
Read this hilarious fake book from the writer of The Stanley Parable
www.polygon.com
Be honest: How often do you read a book inside of a role-playing game? Today, I bring you a fictional video game book so clever and fun that you can (and should) read it outside of its game. Ive included my favorite excerpt below.But first, let me just say, to folks who toss their books into the inventory never to be opened again, that I get it. Reading a few pages of backstory or exposition is a big ask of any hero on a world saving quest. One minute, youre slaying hordes of undead, your feet tapping uncontrollably because one more hit means doom. A few minutes later, youve sifted through all the corpses for treasures, and you try to read a sentence of dense lore from a dusty dungeon tome your heart rate at the tempo of a jungle track.Wanderstop, made by the indie developer super team at Ivy Road, is a roleplaying game in which the role youre playing is a burned-out perfectionist who needs to chill the hell out. Swap swinging swords, killing baddies, and saving the world with sitting on a bench, sipping tea, and reading.Books arent a contradiction of or a distraction from the adventure; theyre of a piece. What better way to force the player to stop pursuing goals than to hand them a serialized novella that has nothing to do with our heros journey?The tightly wound adventurer in the game and the quest-obsessed player outside the game will only bother to read a book if its entertaining or informative. Mercifully, Ivy Roads Davey Whedon manages to spin yarns that accomplish both. Youre probably familiar with Whedons work on both The Stanley Parable and The Beginners Guide. Hes adept at layering funny prose to conceal sharp criticism of the video game industry, the messiness of the life of an artist, and the complex relationships between creators and their audience.I asked Whedon if I could share one of my favorite stories from the game, the first installment in the works of fictional mystery writer D.B. Steele. Ive also included Whedons thoughts on handing readers dozens of fictional comedy-noir to read in a game about brewing tea. You can read both below.Davey Whedon on the inclusion of books like the tales of Dirk Warhard in Wanderstop:We already had the idea in mind of there being books that you can find and flip through if you want. This was a part of the games general direction of providing the player with intrinsically-motivated gameplay that lets you take things at the pace you want and waste time on idle tasks at your leisure. When it came to deciding what to actually write for these books, early on I knew that if we wanted our players to actually read these books, our best bet would be comedy. I think a lot of players have come to expect books in video games to contain lengthy (sometimes quite dry) exposition dumps of lore or backstory, so it felt like a fun surprise to give the player books that were totally optional and extremely lighthearted.I remember we had a team meeting one day about what kinds of books would be fun to include (initially the idea was to include a bunch of different styles of books), and someone mentioned how overly serious the Tom Clancy books are. For some reason it lodged something in my brain and I immediately sat down and wrote the first couple paragraphs of the first Dirk Warhard novel. It got an immediate response on the team, and I just found it very fun to write. So we ditched the other possible styles and just doubled down on Dirk Warhard. So much of our game is either dark or achingly sincere in tone, and that kind of writing is really demanding to produce, let alone to experience. It was important both for me AND the player to have something to balance the equation. I need to get some chances to write something purely stupid, and the player needs an opportunity to unwind and let their brains melt for a few minutes before going back into the serious stuff. I think Wanderstop is ultimately trying to find a balance between its many modes, and its this equilibrium that I hope makes it feel like a nuanced and fully-realized world. But also these books were just a lot of fun to write.Edge of a Bullet: A Dirk Warhard NovelBy D. B. SteeleIt was just another typical day for Dirk Warhard.Dirk Warhard had been undercover for thirteen weeks. In that time, he hadnt showered, shaved, or eaten a single time. This was the Dirk Warhard Undercover Method. The Dirk Warhard Undercover Method was a living hell for the initial four weeks. But on week five, without fail, his body would begin to buzz with a feverish euphoria, and a rigorous alertness that gave him the edge he needed to succeed.Because of the adrenaline it produced, he also hadnt slept in a month. His skull vibrated with a cocktail blend of indiscriminate rage and an unquenchable passion for justice. Time to get to work.Dirk Warhards undercover persona was that of Bobby Briggleston, billionaire playboy heir to the Briggleston family media empire. In fact, Dirk Warhard was himself a billionaire playboy much wealthier than his undercover persona. But hed play any role if it meant getting the job done.A wealthy local socialite was hosting a charity gala in her mansion home, which Dirk Warhard had been instructed to infiltrate. His limousine pulled into the mansion driveway around midday.As he stepped out of the limo, the sun shone brightly into his eyes. Dirk Warhard hated the sun more than he hated anything in the world. He had been told many times to stop looking directly into the sun, but to turn his back on an enemy was cowardice he could never forgive. Pulsing with rage from the Dirk Warhard Undercover Method, Dirk Warhard pulled a pistol from his tuxedo jacket and fired ten rounds directly into the heart of the sun. Case closed.He holstered the pistol and stepped into the party.Shortly after entering he was met by the host, Samantha Keylight. She was his target, a known perpetrator of underground organized crime, and the person from whom he was to extract sensitive information. Howdy, he said to her, my name is Bobby Briggleston.But his name was not Bobby Briggleston.That was only his undercover alias.His name was Dirk Warhard.Dirk Warhard thought to himself Im Dirk Warhard and then continued the conversation.Mr. Briggleston, it is the pleasure of pleasures to finally meet you! exclaimed Samantha Keylight, Ive heard so much about you from our mutual friend.The mutual friend she spoke of was Dirk Warhards handler, who briefed him on every mission. Dirk Warhard did not know this mans name, because Dirk Warhard disliked learning names. The only name he knew for certain was Dirk Warhard, and even that one was written on a card in his wallet for emergencies.A man in a servants outfit approached them with a tray of shrimp cocktails. Hors Doeuvres?The sight of food thrilled and angered Dirk Warhard. Hunger raged in his stomach, but he couldnt risk the mission. He stepped very close to the man holding the tray, and subtly pressed his pistol to the mans sternum. Youll remove the food immediately, and youll never show your face in this city again.The man began trembling violently, then nodded and turned for the exit. Dirk Warhard fired a warning gunshot at his feet, just to scare him. A hush fell over the entire party, but Dirk Warhard cooly holstered his pistol and said Saw some asbestos. The partygoers all nodded in appreciation, and a few began applauding.Now then, declared Samantha Keylight, may I show you around my home? A man of your distinction will surely admire my collection of art.Thats right, replied Dirk Warhard, I AM a man.And he was.The two of them stepped into an adjacent room, which was empty but for the paintings hung on every wall. Van Dorsens, mostly, said Samantha Keylight, though some on the far wall are by Ferriet. Do you have a favorite artist, Mr. Briggleston?Because there was only one name that Dirk Warhard truly knew, he replied Dirk Warhard.Several of the paintings looked to Dirk Warhard like food. To suppress the anger it aroused in him, he tore one of the paintings clean in half. Asbestos, he explained.Mr. Briggleston, said Samantha Keylight, I did not invite you here simply to admire my art collection nor to rid my home of asbestos. In fact, there is one particular piece of art I wish to show you that I think you will find very interesting.Dirk Warhard responded well to this statement, because he liked it when people gave him things that interested him.Samantha Keylight pulled a small parcel from a shelf, then turned to Dirk Warhard. But the parcel was not a piece of art. It was a gun. She pointed the gun at him.Thats right. I know exactly who you really are Dirk Warhard!Dirk Warhard quietly retrieved his wallet and checked the card inside. She was correct.You didnt think youd fooled me with this Bobby Briggleston nonsense, did you? Id know your scummy face anywhere. Samantha Keylight fixed the gun on his temples. Tell me who sent you, or the next piece to hang on my wall will be your brains!Time slowed to a crawl. Dirk Warhard played through every possible outcome of the situation in his mind, tactically assessing thousands of different strategic maneuvers. His mind raced with the efficiency of a cheetah nailed to a missile. And after a mere half second which to Dirk Warhard felt like hours the only strategy with even a glimmer of hope was clear to him.Well? snarled Samatha Keylight, Whats it going to be? Are you going to start talking, or do I have to-Samantha Keylight exploded.Blood and innards splattered across every inch of the room, drenching the various works of art and substantially lowering their value at auction. Dirk Warhard wiped a finger from his eyes. Weeks ago, he had secretly planted a bomb inside Samantha Keylight, triggered by a switch inside the ring on his left hand. This was one of Dirk Warhards signature techniques, and it had saved him dozens of times.He stepped over to where he vaguely recalled she had been standing, then adjusted his shirt cuffs and said What you didnt know is Im actually Dirk Warhard!He then pulled out his pistol and said it again while holding the pistol, which he decided was cooler. He repeated it while firing the gun several times, and that felt coolest of all.Dirk Warhard still had no idea what role Samantha Keylight played in the perpetration of organized crime. But it wasnt his job to know things. The less Dirk Warhard knew, the more quickly he completed each mission. And this one had been done in record time. He pressed the mechanical implant on his neck to inform his handler that the mission was a success.Dirk Warhard stepped back into the party, where guests were in a panic over the sound of the explosion and gunshots. They turned and froze as he entered the room, dripping with Samantha Keylight.Dirk Warhard strode confidently toward the nearest servant holding a tray, grabbed a shrimp cocktail, and stuffed it into his mouth with a beastly vigor. Someone in the crowd yelled Oh my god! Its Dirk Warhard!Dirk Warhard attempted to yell What you didnt know is Im actually Dirk Warhard! but his mouth was too full of shrimp. So instead he just fired his gun into the air several times. The partygoers began cheering and making out with each other. Then the president emerged from the crowd. Dirk Warhard, said the president, youve saved us once again! I award you ten thousand dollars cash!The crowd cheered again, and Dirk Warhard still couldnt speak so he kept firing his gun. One of his bullets accidentally hit the president, who gave the thumbs up as he bled out, grateful to have been killed by the famous Dirk Warhard. But the presidents death didnt bother Dirk Warhard, who knew that there would always be another president, but there would never be another Dirk Warhard.He stuffed another shrimp into his mouth, then crowd-surfed his way back to the limo as he yelled his famous catchphrase: Nobody survives Dirk Warhard!Justice as cold as the shrimp. It was just another typical day for Dirk Warhard.
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