An upcoming Gameboy-style RPG! The Secret of Varonis features old-school combat mechanics and visuals faithful to the gaming heyday of 1989. If you're nostalgic for retro games, or just looking for a good, challenging RPG, this game is probably a good fit.
We'll be updating the devlog until our expected release in early 2023.
Customize your party to take on the secret city and the many trials beyond!
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On the first day of shooting at Studio Babelsberg, the “United Pigs” showed up in their butcher aprons. They refused makeup. They used the expensive cameras to film the craft services table for three hours. Yuri ate the prop money. Hanna set fire to the script.
Klaus turned, grease-splattered and serene. “It’s the only truth left. The Berlin Star. You see, the star is a lie — glitter on a carcass. But the pigs? We’re united. We know we’re already dead.”
One December night, a real producer stumbled in, seeking shelter from a blizzard. Her name was Lena, from Netflix Berlin. She was drunk, lost, and horrified. She watched as the “United Pigs” performed a scene where Hanna, dressed in a butcher’s apron, delivered a fifteen-minute monologue about the fall of the Wall while Faysal slowly carved a pig’s head with a paring knife. Berlin Star Film United Pigs
The movie never got made. But the footage — grainy, bloody, and impossible — became a midnight legend. Bootleg copies circulate in underground cinemas. Critics call it a masterpiece of anti-cinema. Everyone else calls it what Klaus always did: Berlin Star Film United Pigs — the story of a city, a shop, and a family of glorious, unwashed, unkillable ham-actors who refused to become anything other than what they were.
Lena should have run. Instead, she saw the raw, ugly magic. The next morning, she offered them a development deal. On the first day of shooting at Studio
Lena screamed. Klaus smiled. He handed her a fresh sausage and whispered, “You see, united pigs don’t make films. We make events . And this event is called: ‘The Producer Who Thought She Could Cage the Swine.’”
In the grimy, rain-slicked back alleys of Berlin, nestled between a defunct punk club and a Turkish supermarket, stood the “Berlin Star Film United Pigs.” It wasn’t a cinema, nor a production house. It was a butcher shop. But not for sausages or schnitzel. Yuri ate the prop money
And the one-eyed cat? It got a credit: “Consultant.” It still waits by the shop door, long after the shutters rusted shut.
Klaus agreed. He cashed the check. Then he bought five times as much pork.