The world Batwell is parked over isn't very friendly-looking. I empty the ship's repository of starter equipment - Matter Manipulator, seeds, torches, torchlight - and head off to planet proper. That's an auspicious name, right? The game launches. Her looks are randomly generated so as to minimize any sort of emotional attachment the poor girl might be dead in a few hours. ![]() I start with a human female because homo sapiens are first in the racial line-up. Batwell the Randomly Generated Human Female She came, she saw, she died. If a character survives until the dawn of her third day, she will be treated as a success story and a point in Starbound's favour. The rules I've set for myself are simple: six races, six opportunities to eke out sustainable living on some hostile planet somewhere. Chucklefish's procedurally generated, sidescrolling sci-fi sandbox is a cruel, treacherous place where death is a nasty, rent-hiking landlord.Īnd to prove it, I'm going to attempt permadeath playthroughs. ![]() I've seen lizards with two mouths and no eyes and faceless birds piled high with eyeballs and I've fought squat, smiling squads of tooth-like critters in the heart of a frozen planet. ![]() It took forty hours to come to this epiphany but Starbound is a candy-coated nightmare realm straight from the pit of Cthulhu's dreams.
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