The hype was soaring, second only to the now-infamous Sky of Love. After countless players clicked into the Skyrim Black Widow MOD, they couldn't help but let out startled yelps of disbelief.
The gameplay of Skyrim Black Widow was nothing like Sky of Love. According to the modding team's description, this was a simulation-driven experience with a heavy focus on daily life. Players would step into the role of an ordinary Dragonborn and build their wealth to become a top merchant in Skyrim.
One of the game's standout mechanics was its inheritance system. Players could choose to run businesses alone or get close to in-game characters, only to kill them and claim their inheritance.
"Damn, who comes up with this stuff? From grand magical epics to this? How did the tone flip so hard?"
"I seized the Dragonstone, slew my first dragon at the Western Watchtower to unlock my first shout. I scaled the Throat of the World to train under the Greybeards, learned to bend time itself, and with the Elder Scroll, I entered Sovngarde and crushed Alduin, the World-Eater. But now I urgently need nutritional supplements, I can't take this anymore!"
"Is this why you, as the Dragonborn, slaughtered a chicken in Westwood Town?"
The forums exploded. Just reading the introductions of these two mods had players riled up with anticipation.
It was just like the small butter crowdfunding scene, players powered through obstacles, undeterred by differences in regional payment platforms. Even if the crowdfunding failed in the end, they still rallied behind it.
In contrast, John was left completely speechless. What... even is this?
His original goal was to encourage fans of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim to create fun, engaging mods, new mechanics, fresh stories, community creativity. Not... this. Now, with both Sky of Love and Skyrim Black Widow turning heads for the wrong reasons, even he couldn't take it anymore.
Despite the buzz, top-tier and second-tier gaming media avoided the topic due to the sensitive content. Even with massive community interest, they refrained from reporting on it to avoid controversy. Only some niche outlets and self-publishing creators dared to dive in, but their limited reach made little impact.
Even so, to attract attention, the Skyrim section of Social Tap kept both mods listed, Sky of Love and Skyrim Black Widow, but set their threads to "reply-to-view" to limit exposure without deleting them outright.
In another corner of the gaming industry, a different storm was brewing. Steven, a veteran developer, was keeping a close eye on the latest Skyrim news. But unlike most, he had no interest in the mod drama. His eyes were on Dawn Guard, the new DLC from PixelPioneers Games, and how Bethesda was embracing or reacting to community-made content.
"Non-linearity... it's one of the most impactful principles in game design," Steven mused while watching Skyrim in Moondustries' development office. Even after multiple playthroughs, the game still amazed him.
"Is it really that good?" Asked Jonny, a bald, burly man sitting nearby.
Jonny, the second-in-command at Moondustries, had no gaming knowledge. But he was Steven's first and most loyal investor. From their very first game to the founding of Moondustries, Jonny had backed Steven every step of the way, often blindly, but always faithfully. Even when Steven scrapped two-thirds of a nearly-finished game to start over, Jonny never wavered.
"Absolutely," Steven replied. "The way they structured the quests, side content, pacing, and map design, everything serves a purpose. They're not telling your story, they're telling Skyrim's story. The Dragonborn is just a lens."
"Right…" Jonny nodded solemnly, clearly not understanding, but pretending he did.
Steven smirked but didn't call him out. After working together for over a decade, he knew Jonny well enough to ignore the act and keep going.
"Every RPG struggles between two competing forces: character development and worldbuilding. It's nearly impossible to perfect both. You either end up with shallow characters in a rich world, or deep characters in a world that feels thin."
"This was the same issue we faced with Epic Continent," Steven admitted. "Originally, I wanted to do both. But I realized it wasn't feasible with our resources, so I dropped the deep worldbuilding and focused on a tightly written character-driven story. That's what I want players to feel."
"But Skyrim... Skyrim lets you experience an era. The Dragonborn might choose the Stormcloaks or the Empire. It feels like their story, but it's really the story of the war itself. Even Alduin isn't just a boss, he's a symbol of ancient prophecy and the end times. You're a part of that story, but not the center. And they reinforce that by giving you no defined backstory, not even a name. You're just the Dragonborn."
"The moment you escape Helgen and name your character, that's when the real story begins. Yours."
Steven spoke with admiration, and it was clear he meant every word.
Meanwhile, John couldn't help but admit to himself, he had never considered it so deeply.
Some aspects of Skyrim's brilliance came to him naturally during development, influenced by dreams, flashes of inspiration, or responses from players. Sometimes it was just intuition, altering something because it felt better than what he remembered from those "dream memories."
For deeper structural lessons, John learned by reflecting on past games and observing their successes in real time. He knew one truth well: only by reaching true AAA production levels could a team begin to grasp the depth of storytelling design in games like Skyrim.
As Skyrim's modding community surged forward and Epic Continent gained traction, John was already knee-deep in planning his next move.