Legacy Origins

Ever run around the yard, pretending to fight aliens? We did, too.

Growing up, my brother, two cousins, and I spent a lot of time together. We were told to stay outside until lunch or dinner. Left with naught but our finger guns, we pretended to fight off aliens.

As we grew, our games grew with us. The fights grew more intense, so I gravitated into the role of describing more intense monsters. We started to incorporate ability effects and other characters. Then, we weren't just fighting one alien, but new monsters, small hordes, and giant ones.

My family still remembers with (fearful) nostalgia: When I held up 2 fingers like a person running, they knew I was about to demonstrate some crazy sense of scale!

And as we "matured," so did the games we played. I started listing gear sets, forms of progression, specific levels, and rewards. Genres expanded to including creature training, tough hunts, and the like. As a kid, these ideas were admittedly inspired by media, sometimes heavily, but we were just having fun.

Alas, high school loomed. The summer before, I came to accept that games were behind me. If I were to grow up, I must put behind me such childish pursuits.
But, I had a few months. Would it be enough time? Yes, one last game, I told myself. It would incorporate the best elements of every game I ever made, an appropriate send-off to the end of an era...

It was so good, I had to make another.

"The New Game" we called it. It was so diverse, and plot-driven, and unlike anything we had played prior. Not used to this level of roleplay, sometimes we would play out a scene in too much detail, or get too physical when acting it out. Though hard to put a finger on it, the game clearly had a compelling magic to it.

I remember lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling of a room I shared with my brother, him against the frame, brainstorming names. Eventually, my brother mused, "What about 'Legacy'?"

And off we went.

For the better part of a decade, we would journey through hell and high water, bad times and worse in the growing Legacy universe. Around this time, visits with the cousins grew less frequent. So, instead of trying different popcorn missions, they grew the same characters for years. For my part, game content grew to include new maps, intricate gear systems, abilities, and at one point over 70 species.

But, more does not equal better. How could I consolidate this superficial quantity into a depth of quality? To present it so others understood? To take our experience to the next level would require dedicated study, long nights, and sacrifices difficult to fathom at the time. For Legacy to become the entertainment phenomenon of my dreams, to share it with the world, it would have to hit harder, get better, go faster, and grow stronger.

Life has a way of pulling people apart. Due to moving away or joining the military, our brother-cousin time grew more rare, and more precious. Our visiting time centered around what game time we could muster, but then not everyone could make every holiday.

But where game time diminished, our stories—our legacies—stayed with us. We are forever united in spirit, forged by years of battles of the mind, of hearts sundered and reborn.

So, to the next generation of grandeur, I salute you. For us, we will always treasure our late nights up in the FROG, epic, orchestral music stirring our souls to throw down against overwhelming odds.

Now, it's your turn.
And you define your Legacy.