I've just joined the JkIII community with the sole purpose of building a mod in mind ^_^.
I'm hoping to gather a small team together to work on a SP TC based around the pre-existing 'David Hunter' universe.
For the uninitiated who aren't familiar with David Hunter, check out http://davidhunter.game-mod.net
for more details about the rest of the series.
In simple terms; David Hunter 2 should promise to be a post apocalyptic demi-sci fi fast paced shoot 'em up with some completely gratuitous and unnecessary swashbuckling melee action interspersed with some serious firepower and inhumane psychic abilities! (hence thoughts to the Jedi Knight, which already has a good basis implemented for all of the above).
The original Quake 2 attempt was amusing to say the least, but I think JkIII has a much better basis for this, and it can make things look much nicer! lol.
We'd ideally be looking at a comprehensive mission set, entirely new models and weapon set, and slightly buggered about physics, as well as the inclusion of a new MP mode.
The Basic Precept
It's pretty much a more standard modern FPS, combining some weaker stealth elements of gameplay with the more regular 'wade through enemies to your objective' style play.
Weapons vary dramatically from the ancient, yet ever popular samurai swords, the Katana and Jin, to ultra-modern .32 machine pistols, to extremely outlandish and brutal energy weapons further into the game.
Enemies mostly consist of your a-typical cliched dumb grunts, and little else that I'll admit to right now outside of staffing!
Well, I've not even declared Dh2 as 'existing' yet, and staffing is at absolute minimal (this is the first request, lol). Staff wise, I'm looking for a single coder, preferably with some previous C++ or QuakeC experience, as well as a small team of modellers / skinners, and a larger team of mappers, who aren't afraid of Radiant! PR and web guys, well, they're none too necessary right now. Experience isn't necessary for the latter positions, just some ability
You can mail me at email@example.com
, but if you want a file to get through to me, better to send it to firstname.lastname@example.org
Is there any information in particular that you would like me to hand over?
The nice fictional style story is as so;
"Long shadows claw desperately away from your dusty combat boots, fuelled by the relentless twin suns of a late Demios afternoon. Shading your eyes against the glare, you squint for the thousandth time at the line of soldiers ahead of you. It stretches on endlessly across the rubble, disappearing at last into the cool shadows of a troop carrier. Soon you'll walk up the ramp into the ship, climb into your one-man cocoon, tear through the interplanetary gateway, and smash down light-years away from the blowing sand and blasted ruins that surround the New Dallas crater field.
"What the hell is taking so long?!" you snarl, slamming the battered barrel of your side arm, the trusty .32 machine pistol, against your scarred palm. "I've waited long enough. Time to kick some clone ass."
Slightly rocking back and forth under the sweltering August sun, you spit out of the side of your mouth, rub your eyes, and think back to the day when the wretched creatures first attacked. Like flaming meteors, their crafts pounded into the UNDHS DavidSlayer II and unbelievably, these bio-mechanical beasts... these hideous creations... swarmed out while their ships still sizzled with re-entry heat. They killed or captured anything that lived.
The line moves. And moves again. Into the cool shadows at last. The assembled armies branch off into new lines divided by corps and unit.
"I can't deal with this **** - what's the friggin' hold-up?"
"Cool your jets, marine," Tokay mutters and smiles over his shoulder.
"We'll all get a few clone heads to take home as souvenirs. I promise you that."
"Yo, soldier, 3585." The med tech’s voice startles you.
"You in or out?"
Competent hands guide you into the coffin-like opening of your Mark 9A drop & retrieval pod: sleek, dark, and invisible to the Clone defence systems. One of the techs begins to drop the reinforced pod door. "Sleep tight, soldier. You'll see sunlight in less than six and a half hours. Not our sun, mind you." <SLAM>
Pitch black except for the mild glow of your video readout system in front of you. You've done this a dozen times in the simulation classes. No sweat. Just a few short hours to sleep, recharge, and then the moment of glory. But this time it's for real.
It's also time to think. You recall your first official day of training, your unit commander discussing how these damn parasites made it back to Earth and other nearby colonies in the first place. By employing our best satellites and long-range scanners, we learned how they travelled light years so quickly - the single surviving clone battallion fled the Earth with a single duplicator, and then later used these black hole-like gateways as their highway to heaven. We still don't know if they created these rips in the fabric of space and time, or if they simply discovered them by accident. Either way... it's just like opening the door to an all-you-can-eat restaurant for these bastards. In about two hours, we'll be entering the same interstellar portals, to hit 'em where it hurts... on their own turf.
You close your eyes and relish this thought. Eventually, you nod off to the low hypnotic hum of the troop carrier.
*Crackle* ... *fzzzz* ... "Greetings to the people of the Coalition. This is Flag Admiral Crockett, speaking to you from the bridge deck of Phobos. We are entering the outer orbits of CloneWorld, the David Clone's home system. As we had postulated, CloneWorlds atmosphere is harsh but breathable. We expect to make planet fall soon. Now is the time to switch on your debriefing panel if ya need it."
"Boomer?" the voice crackles through every soldier's headset. "Drop X-ray squad in 30 on my mark. You copy?"
"Roger that!" In another pod, your sergeant snaps back. "OK boys and girls,
You see the clock on your heads-up. Two demerits for anyone who up-chucks
during bounce and roll!"
*Shthunk!!* Your drop pod is shot from the side of the carrier and hurtles downward. *Wheee-oooooo!* Incendiary atmosphere howls past the pod's rapidly heating shell. *Ka-WHUMP! * The pod wall suddenly buckles to your right, but stays intact. Another pod must have clipped yours on its way in. ECM didn't indicate enemy fire. ****. Thrusters and stabilizing gyros are fading. Based on the pings, the other pods are pulling away. Below you, the large dilapidated city roars into focus on the screen. But where are the other pods? They were there a minute ago.
Suddenly, distorted radio chatter lights up, "Mayday! Mayday! Lost all power... shielding failed... missed dz... some kind of EMP is... kzzzt... us out. We're dropping like fli... zzzzkkkzzzt". Silence.damn! If the clones have electromagnetic pulse defences and we failed to detect them... all of us are in the ****ter. That HUGE blip has to be the target objective - the Big Gun. You do a slow dogleg left as your Netcom finds a place to land when all of a sudden retros kick in and propel you south.
"What the...?" Before you know it you skip across the lip of a crater and slam into a structure, a good distance away from your target. Dazed and bleeding from a head cut you toggle open the labelled arsenal bins and reach for where your gear ought to be stowed. Damn. Nothing but your sidearm.
You leap out the crushed pod door, alone, with .32 in hand, and tear off into the jungle with the bittersweet stench of vengeance coursing through your veins... "