Hello, I'm Tobias, the sole developer behind Alora Fane. I feel that the human story behind indie games is sometimes as interesting as the games themselves, so I want to share mine with you. I started developing games as a teenage hobby, using self-taught skills. I made pixel games in Flash, inspired by my love of retro JRPGs and platformers. When I self-published some online, under the (bizarre) name Fig Hunter, I was surprised by how popular they were! A series of RPGs, MARDEK, were played by millions, and I still hear from people over a decade later that they have a special place in their hearts. Like many creative types, I was a nerdy weirdo back in my school days, who made my own worlds because I didn't fit into this one. I'd always been shy and anxious, and the thought of making games alone instead of getting a 'real job' appealed to me because it meant I'd have freedom about what I made and when, and - importantly - I wouldn't have to leave my house to do it. It took me many years to understand this, but I have a mental condition called Avoidant Personality Disorder. You might be familiar with social anxiety; this is the Charizard to that Charmeleon (Charmander is shyness in this analogy). You might also have a few memories of embarrassing yourself in front of others, which come up spontaneously sometimes and make you cringe hard. For me, every interaction creates several of these painful memories, and they sting me many times every day. I was afraid to venture out into the world because I didn't want to accumulate more of these 'mental scars'. This is also why I work alone. Unfortunately, nothing much came of my Flash developer days. It was difficult to make meaningful money because I couldn't sell Flash games directly. I was also quite delusional about what I was capable of. I intended the MARDEK series to have eight chapters, for example, but the third took so long to make (three years), drained me so much mentally, and made so little money that it just wasn't practical to stick with it. I never really planned what I was doing back then either; I'd jump between projects and dive in without doing concept art or story drafts or anything, following my whims. The social isolation was getting to me, too. I rarely left my house because there was nowhere to go, and I had no opportunities to meet people. I ran a community site around my Fig Hunter games, but had to deal with a lot of drama and trolls and it all took its toll on me. My mental health deteriorated severely. In an attempt to change course but not completely, I spent a lot of time honing my existing creative skills, and reimagined myself as Alora Fane. I tried to make games that focused on overcoming mental issues, and understanding others rather than defeating them with violence. I hoped they might help me, and others. 'Alora Fane' was the name of a novel world focused around spiritual development and finding meaning, which I intended to use as a consistent setting for several games. Poor mental health prevented me from finishing anything, though, so I never published (or finished) most of what I made under this name. To escape my isolation and establish a proper career path, I attended an art-focused Games Development university course when I was 25. The tutors were very impressed by the art I produced, but I didn't make any friends, and felt out of place. Despite getting great grades, I dropped out after a year, feeling that while I could technically do the games development thing, I didn't feel fulfilled, or like I was where I should be. For another year, I mostly drifted. I got into mindfulness-based secular spirituality as a way to tame my mind, and had a deeply fascinating 'spiritual awakening' that felt as if I'd taken off a pair of dark glasses and seen the world as it truly was for the first time. I felt I'd found the answers to it all. It was wonderful, though sadly it didn't last. It inspired a thoroughly-planned remake of MARDEK set in the Alora Fane world (Taming Dreams), which I quietly published on Android, but my mental health issues and general shelteredness prevented me from distributing it more widely or sticking with it. I'd always had a passion for psychology, particularly personality; I was more interested in talking about how people's minds work than about games, honestly. I dreaded the thought of parties or multiplayer games, but felt in my element when listening to someone talk about their deepest issues, because I spent so much time trying to understand my own. I went to university again at the ripe old age of 27 to study Psychology (with Neuroscience), which was a huge change from the sheltered life I'd led until then. I made a couple of close friends for the first time in years, and again - despite the drastic shift in domain - I did very well academically; lots of As and A+s and such. How impressive. How versatile. Wow. I learned a lot of valuable things about people while I was there, not just from the work, but from the social interactions I'd had. I learned a few things about myself, though. One was that my mental health issues were worse than I thought. While I did make a couple of friends in the first week, beyond that I struggled. I couldn't go to parties or clubs or anything due to anxiety and avoidance; I could barely leave my dorm room to feed myself. I wasn't well. I also learned my brain wasn't just mentally disordered. As part of the course, I had to take part in experiments, one of which involved a brain scan in an fMRI machine. I was told that sometimes they find abnormalities in the brain from these scans, but it's so vanishingly rare that I needn't worry about it. Ha. Finding out that I had literal brain cancer, on top of the severe mental health issues and loneliness, felt like too much to bear. Even if treated, there was a significant chance I could lose everything about my mind I liked and relied on. I went through a very dark period. Life was difficult. I was difficult to be around, and drove away people who cared about me, isolated myself. I thought constantly about suicide. My tumour (papillary tumour of the pineal region) is apparently excitingly rare: only a few cases are available in the literature, and when I asked what the progression might be like, the brain surgeon literally shrugged. It was discovered during my first year of university, and I opted to delay major surgery to remove the tumour until I graduated, as I didn't want to lose the friends and academic progress I'd made. They were too valuable, after so many years spent alone, getting nowhere. Thankfully the tumour didn't seem to be growing very quickly, so the surgeon reluctantly let me delay. After graduating, I had the surgery I'd been putting off. I knew from studying the brain what damage in this region might entail. Memory impairment was a potential side effect. Thankfully the (extremely long) operation went well; I'm amazed at the surgeon's skill, and I'm really humbled to think I've had the honour of talking with such a human! Thanks to him, I didn't lose any critical cognitive capabilities, as far as I can tell. I've been cripplingly tired though, and was told that I'd need 12 months to recover from this and the month of radiotherapy that I had a few months later. 12 months, during which I was unable to go out into the world and get a 'real job', even if mental issues didn't make that feel impossible. I wasn't content to just lie around watching cats farting on YouTube for months though (at least not all the time). I thought about what I could do with my down time, something valuable that might even earn me some money. So I decided to return to games development, as I could do that at my own pace while recuperating without leaving the house or talking to anyone. I've started this new era in my creative life by making Memody: Sindrel Song, which is quite different to my previous work. I'd learned while studying psychology that neurological damage could be slowed or even prevented by exercising the brain; someone who spends their days mindlessly watching television is going to mentally decay faster than someone who plays chess every day. I built this game's mechanics around memory partly to prevent deterioration of my own, but it seemed doubly fitting as a theme because memory is at the heart of my mental illness. I thought it'd be interesting to explore that, as well as other things that defined my life experience - and apparently the lives of many others, from all I've seen - like feeling lost in life, seeking a purpose, and having a critical demon in my mind that holds me back with its negativity. My hope is that people who have direct experience with mental health issues might find something in this that resonates with them, and that those who don't know what it's like might be able to use this to better empathise with those who struggle. More than that though, I just hope it's fun! I love music, and while developing this I've enjoyed playing along with the songs quite a lot. Unlike rhythm games, where you mostly react to visual stimuli as they occur, this is like learning and playing an instrument; tricky to pick up at first, but so satisfying to play when you get the hang of it! No musical experience is necessary; it might even be particularly fulfilling if you don't play an instrument, as you'll get a feel for what it's like. (I can only ineptly fumble around a piano myself!) I've mostly made peace with my mind and my situation, and a lot of what tormented me during my twenties doesn't so much anymore. I used to fear ending up alone, more than anything; now I think it's for the best. My biggest concern is making enough money to continue doing this. Any purchases of my games will help me out a whole lot! My life has been full of darkness, but if I can use creativity to convert some of that darkness into something that'll bring light to the lives of others, well... I can't think of anything more valuable I could do with my time in this world.