Welcome to Azthengar

Azthengar means far more to me than just a game. It is an adventure, a place that invites you in, unsettles you, and then embraces you all at once. To me, a good game needs a heart. When I began working on this project, I wasn’t just trying to make something playable. I wanted to create something that felt like the games I remember growing up with, the ones that stayed with me long after I turned them off.

If I had the artistic talent, I think I would have loved to create those old choose-your-own-adventure books. There was something magical about them. The sense of control, the branching paths, the imagination they sparked. In a way, Azthengar is my attempt to capture that same feeling, just through a different medium.

I found myself thinking about all of this while at work, trying not to lose my mind staring at the same wall all day. But that’s a story for another time. My thoughts drifted to the games that inspired me, and I realized something simple but important: every great fantasy game has a dragon. A massive, foul creature. A reptile with wings, breathing fire, representing both danger and wonder.

So I went back into the code. After some heavy work in the enemy systems, I added one fiery beast, something that seeks not just to fight the player, but to burn them to ash. It felt right. It felt necessary.

If you look back, even the earliest adventure games and the first graphical fantasy RPGs followed this same pattern. There was always a knight, and there was always a dragon. Even games developed across the world, including those from Japan, held onto this core idea. It’s a simple formula, but it works because it taps into something timeless. There’s always a line drawn between the hero and the monster, and stepping across that line is where the adventure begins.

To me, that formula will never get old. Anything that carries a sense of magic and fantasy is worth exploring. It’s something to enjoy, something to get lost in. Unfortunately, many games today are no longer treated as art. They’re treated as products, machines built to generate profit. The idea of ownership is fading, replaced with convenience and control.

That’s why projects like Azthengar matter, at least to me. They are small, personal, and driven by passion rather than expectation. They are a reminder of what games used to feel like, and what they still can be.

Until next time,
may Azthengar fall so we can live.