Larian Studiosは、ゲームの革新のための著作権を採用するよう開発者に促します
Biowareでの最近のレイオフ、 Dragon Age：The Veilguard の背後にあるスタジオは、ゲーム業界の状態についてより広い会話を引き起こしました。 Larian Studiosの出版ディレクターであるMichael Dausは、再びソーシャルメディアについてコメントしました。今回は業界のレイオフの問題に取り組んでいます。彼は、従業員を評価し、リーダーシップを責任を負わせることを主張しています。
プロジェクトの間または後のレイオフを避けることは達成可能です。チーム内の制度的知識を維持することは、将来の成功に不可欠です。
「脂肪のトリミング」は、これらのカットの理由としてしばしば引用されますが、ダウスは財政難の圧力を認めていますが、彼は攻撃的な企業効率の必要性に疑問を呈しています。このアプローチは、連続した一連のヒットで正当化できるかもしれませんが、レイオフは最終的には劇的であり、最終的には貧弱なコスト削減策です。
Dausは、コアの問題は上級管理職が下した戦略的決定にあるが、その結果は常に低レベルの従業員によって負担されると指摘している。彼は海賊船の類推を使用しています。そこでは、キャプテンが危機の時に船外に投げ出された最初の人になります。彼は、ビデオゲーム会社が、より責任があり、容赦なく効率的な管理スタイルを採用する必要があることを示唆しています。
最新記事
Two Embers – Part 1
By [Your Name]
The wind howled across the shattered plains of Eldryth, carrying with it the scent of ash and forgotten prayers. Once, this land had bloomed beneath twin suns—golden and silver—cradled in the arms of the sky. Now, only two embers remained: one buried deep in the heart of the Obsidian Spire, the other flickering faintly in the chest of a girl who did not know her name.
She awoke beneath a sky split in two.
One half burned crimson, the other wept silver mist. The earth cracked like old parchment, and from the fissures rose whispers—voices not of men, nor beasts, but of memory itself. Her fingers curled around a shard of obsidian, warm to the touch, humming with a rhythm that matched her pulse.
She didn’t remember how she got here. She remembered nothing—not her mother’s lullaby, not the sound of her first breath, not even the shape of her face in the still pools of long-dead lakes.
Only the ember.
And the dream.
“When the twins fall, the world will wake,” the dream whispered. “But not as it was. Not as it should be.”
She sat up. The shard pulsed. Her reflection shimmered within it—not a face, but a storm: a woman with hair like flame and eyes like dying stars.
“You’re not real,” she said, voice cracked from disuse.
But the reflection smiled.
And spoke.
“I am you. I am what was lost. I am what was never meant to be found.”
She stumbled to her feet, wind tearing at her tattered cloak—the color of dust and midnight. Around her, ruins of a cathedral rose from the earth, its spires fused with bone and blackened iron. The name carved into its fallen arch read: Aetherion.
Her hand trembled as she touched the stone. A vision tore through her:
A war not of swords, but of light.
Two beings—twin stars forged in fire—clashing in the sky. One wore the face of a god, the other… a child.
She gasped.
And the ember screamed.
From the east, a sound like a thousand bells made of glass. A procession of shadows moved across the horizon—hooded figures with eyes of ash, marching in silence. Their chants were not in any tongue, but in absence. In silence.
She turned to flee—then stopped.
Because behind her, in the west, a new light rose.
Not silver. Not gold.
Blue.
And from it stepped a man—tall, scarred, wearing armor of woven wind and memory. In his hand, a sword without a blade. Its hilt bore the same mark as the shard in her palm.
“Eira,” he said, voice like wind over graves. “You’ve come at last.”
She stepped back. “Who are you?”
He looked at her, and for the first time, his face cracked—just slightly.
“I was your father,” he said. “And I thought I’d buried you with the world.”
The ground trembled. The sky split again.
And from the ember in her hand, a voice rose—not hers, not his.
“The first ember dies. The second awakens. The war begins.”
To Be Continued in Part 2: "The Blood of the Twin Suns"
読む
](https://ima.hhn6.com/uploads/18/17380116246797f3e8a8a39.jpg)
