Septerra Core Legacy of the Game Part 04: Life Support

Septerra Core: Legacy of the Creator marked its 20th anniversary since publication late in 2019. What follows is a deep dive retrospective on the making of this cult classic RPG!

(BTW – In case you missed them, here’s Part 01, Part 02, and Part 03)


So you’re working on your dream project, an epic role playing game set in a unique fantasy world, and a talented group of artist and programmers have enthusiastically flocked to the project. It’s all going swell, though for some reason the company won’t commit to a full greenlight, even though they fund pre-production for nearly a year. What could go wrong?

The company closes its doors and everyone loses their jobs, that’s what.

Like a Virgin

In the early 90’s Viacom was a multimedia empire looking to get into what was then termed “new media”—video games, CD-ROMs, and the Web. They formed Viacom Interactive Media and bought a small Chicago game developer named ICOM Simulations, rebranding it into Viacom New Media (VNM). VNM put out games based on Viacom brands, such as Beavis and Butt-head, Rocko’s Modern Life, and Star Trek.

But sometime in 1996, the Viacom parent company also found itself the new owner of Virgin Interactive Entertainment (VIE). Here’s the problem: Virgin already had a track record as a hit maker, with games such as Command & Conquer, Earthworm Jim, Disney’s Aladdin (SNES), and The 7th Guest, and their internal developer was the venerated Westwood Studios. So Viacom now had two internal game studios, VNM and VIE / Westwood. But here’s the thing, why would they keep us around when they now had the more vaunted Virgin to make games based on their properties?

You guessed it: the axe was looming for us fine folks in Chicago. The head of our office even gathered us in the Septerra Suite one day to tell us it was all over: Viacom was doubling down on Virgin, so the plan was to close VNM.

And then he just went to lunch or something while we all sat there shell shocked.

But, other leadership came in and fought for us. Instead of disbanding VNM, its name was re branded to “Rabid Entertainment,” and we found ourselves put under the control of Virgin Interactive. We could still keep our projects alive, but we would need to scramble to justify our games to brand new bosses.

The logo from the short-lived Rabid Entertainment.


In December of 1996, the Chicago Tribune ran a lengthy profile on the newly-christened Rabid Entertainment.

Part of that piece included this shot of some of our team hard at work on Septerra Core.

Gameplay Feature?

I found myself on a conference call with one of Virgin’s star developers, a well-respected designer at Westwood Studios. He too was working on an RPG, and was tasked with evaluating my project. He had one question for me: from a game design perspective, what was the one thing about Septerra Core that really set it apart?

Now, from a game mechanics point of view I felt like we were building on the strong foundations of an established genre (JRPGs). But to me, our innovations were more about tweaking the systems inherent in those games by adding to them and making them better—not revolutionizing any one system.

So I struggled to answer.

In response, he said that the defining, innovative game design feature of his current project was definitely the graphics—amazing graphical fidelity that was next level.

I was not amused. Graphics? WTF, that’s not game design, dude, that’s just pretty eye candy. So I guess I could have talked about our strikingly original and deep world, our layered story with hundreds of characters to interact with, our organic isometric environments, our unique and edgy visuals combining fantasy and science fiction—but I didn’t consider those things “game design,” they were graphics and story, not game play .

Of course, fearing for the future of my project with the new bosses, I didn’t have the cajones to say any of this out loud.

With the call over, I was angry; everything we had worked for was about to die, killed by some faceless dudes at VIE and Westwood. I was told by our management in Chicago that instead of getting angry, I needed to prove that Septerra Core was worth keeping alive. These people didn’t know me or my track record, and they probably didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of our people or projects. So I needed to wow them and, more importantly, prove that not only could I get it done, it would be worth their investment.

California Here I Come

We had a few weeks to put together a presentation, and we had to do it while most people at the office were still panicking about the future of the company. Blood was in the air, even if management was telling us that everything would be fine.

I found myself part of a group flying out to VIE in California with presentations for our games in hand. I remember sitting there in the conference room, sweating this monumental meeting. This was make it or break it time, and my pessimistic little brain was already focused on doom and gloom and letting down the entire team back home. One of the high-level Rabid managers had given me what sounded like sound advice: have confidence in my team’s work and explain to the the Virgin suits that Septerra Core was the game I always wanted to make, my dream project.

I could do that!

And I swear to god, as the meeting started the head Virgin honcho was finishing up a conversation with one of his underlings, saying: (and I paraphrase) “God damn, if one more person tells me that I need to greenlight their project because it’s the game they’ve always wanted to make, I’m going to kill them. That’s not a valid reason to throw hundreds of thousands of dollars at something.”

There went my advice and with it my confidence.

The head Westwood people joined us by video conference (remember, this is the stone age of 1996, when that required dedicated hardware with a TV to be wheeled in) and we started going through projects. When Septerra Core came on the block, the Virgin suits asked me to define its genre. Now, I had been told to downplay the RPG aspects, and play up the adventure game aspects. Why? Well, Westwood already had RPGs in the works, so Virgin wasn’t looking for another one. Meanwhile, I had an established track record with adventure games (Beavis and Butt-head in Virtual Stupidity was a great success, both critically and financially), but no experience in the market with RPGs. I had basically been told to skirt around the subject. 

So, there I am, fighting to keep my RPG alive, being told to disguise it as an adventure game. The suits raised concerns: an adventure game with turn-based combat? Was I sure this wasn’t an RPG?

That’s when the rep from Westwood chimed in from his Max Headroom-ish teleconference screen: He had heard there was footage. Let’s just take a look!

So we rolled the tape (yeah, tape. It was the 90’s).


This is the video we took to the presentation, recreated from aging VHS gameplay footage and original cinematic renders from 1996. Note that the characters use their original, brighter colors, and Runner is actually walking around on all fours, rather than bi-pedal!


Images of the world sprang up, 3D modeled versions of the characters, flying battleships, rampaging robots, and a mock combat in a lush city scape, all underscored by a hammering soundtrack and sound effects.

But I wasn’t watching the clip. I was watching Max Headroom’s face on the teleconference. It lit up. This was (I believe) the same dude that had championed amazing graphics just a few weeks earlier. Now he was obviously surprised and delighted with our approach, the uniqueness of the visual designs, and the JRPG direction that made it very different from his own RPG project.

He was suddenly on board, and since he and Westwood seemed to be Virgin’s golden boys, that interest was enough to keep Septerra Core alive.

Cutting the Game Scope

We had avoided the axe and happily dived back into development.

But we still had to distance the game from the RPG genre that Westwood already had covered, aiming for more of an adventure game, what we called a “fast paced, real-time adventure.” Plus, several changes were made to address the game’s epic scope.


This cover letter from ’96 summarized the changes for the brass in the New York office. At this point, we had jumped through all the hoops that both New York and Virgin had requested.

  • Color palettes of several characters were changed. VIE thought they looked too “console” and not “PC gaming” enough. Select an image to enlarge and learn more.

  • The day and night cycle was removed. We originally planned to swap the palettes of the environments to change the time of day from day to night, although this would not have happened in real time.
  • The game originally had “Fleet Battles.” Maya would gather a fleet of three battleships (Lobo’s ship plus two others) and use them to fight battles. Ships could be equipped with weapon and armor upgrades just like player characters and the battles would have used the same combat system—but these fleet actions would take place between ship sprites on the world maps.
A quick sketch of the fleet management screen. The player could select each ship and equip them with weapons, armor, and a Core engine, (the living battleship’s bio mechanical “heart”). This is as far as this feature was ever visualized.
  • To avoid RPG stats, player levels and Experience (XP) were removed. Instead, characters would get more powerful by finding better equipment. As Core power (magic) was only affected by player level in the original design, a new type of equipment was devised—Talismans—that would have directly affected the character’s spell power, much the same way a sword added to melee power.
  • All subscreens and player stats were removed from the interface. Even Hit Points (HP) would turn into a simple percentage. VIE was afraid that scary RPG stats would overwhelm adventure game players.
  • The story was slightly reduced in scope. This included cutting several characters and bosses, including several of Doskias’ generals—including his lover, Kasandra. Select any image to enlarge and learn more about some of the content that hit the cutting room floor.
  • A Fate Card mini-game was removed. In the original design the Fate Cards would have been used for more than just casting spells: the player would also be able to use them to play a Magic: the Gathering style mini-card game. Opponents would have been found in towns and inns, and the player might win new equipment, money, or even better cards. Yes, we tried to make The Witcher 3’s Gwent 25 years earlier…
  • World maps were simplified to work more like an adventure game—the player would merely click the location they wanted to visit, rather than walk their party across the map.

Some of these changes (Palettes, the day night cycle, fleet battles, the Fate Card mini game) would remain permanent. However, the RPG elements would eventually be put back in once the team left Viacom / Rabid and struck out on our own. But, we had kept the game alive, and we had a plan! We were finally ready for development to get the green light and start in earnest!

But, the celebrations were short lived. Because after all that, something soured between VIE and Rabid, and our Chicago office was set to be closed.

So yeah, we were losing our jobs anyway.

Rabid Entertainment and the Death of VNM

To Viacom’s credit they first tried to spin off Rabid Entertainment, looking to sell the Chicago development house. I was even sent on a mission to Game Developer’s Conference, tagging along with the General Manager and one of the Executive Producers, to tease out buyers (I guess I was there to represent the “talent”).

There were no takers, and Viacom revealed a plan to phase us out—rather than just fire us all in one fell swoop they began laying us off in waves, so that people at least had a head start finding new homes.

A handful of the Septerra Core team gathered to discuss our options: myself, Alisa Kober (who had stepped in to help Kathy with the scheduling of art, becoming a sort of co-Lead Artist on the project), Cathi Court, (the Producer), and Roger, (our tools programmer). We all still believed in the project. Was it really going to be shuttered away in some giant warehouse where game ideas go to die, like the Ark of the Covenant at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark?

Had we worked so hard on this game to just give it up?

We started talking to Viacom corporate about acquiring the rights to the project and assets. Would they even sit down with us? Why waste time on soon-to-be ex-employees who certainly didn’t have the money to pay for the rights?

Still, we had to try.

With waves of employees being let go every few weeks, the offices began to become desolate. At one point, we became privy to the next “cut list.” Some people were finding work, others were looking, but one in particular was in a bit of a bind.

Kye, that young artist who had worked so hard on our concept drawings and early models, was in the next wave of layoffs. The problem? Kye was from South Korea, and he was working in the United States on a work visa. If he lost his job and didn’t have something lined up fast, he and his family might be deported. On the other hand, some of us knew that we could lose work and be fine financially, at least for a little while. I was one of those people, so we convinced management to let me take Kye’s place on the next wave of cuts. That would give him the time he needed to secure his next gig, and therefore his visa.

I was going to be out of a job, and soon.

But, there was promising talk with corporate about securing the rights to Septerra Core. It was still a long shot, but many on the team were rooting for us, promising to come to work on the game if we could secure funding.

Still, we had no idea if any of that was actually going to work out.

Can You Say Lowball?

In the meantime, I needed to look for work.

Chicago didn’t have a ton of game development back then. Notably there was FASA Interactive, Konami, and Sunsoft.

I interviewed at one of the larger places, and it actually went well. They liked me, their project was interesting, and their producer was a nice guy who I had met before. If Septerra Core didn’t take off, maybe I would end up taking this job.

And then, as this “nice guy” walked me out of the building, he made me an offer.

WTF. Less than half my current salary.

His response was classic: “I could be a dick and tell you that in a few weeks you won’t have that salary anymore, but I won’t.”

This person continued to pursue me for weeks. I did not take his calls, but oh, the lovely messages he left. He knew I had some grand dream of starting a company and finishing Septerra Core. But, he would explain, that just doesn’t happen in the real world. And all those people you work with now, the ones who say they’ll come work for you if you do get funding? Yeah, those people are lying, he said, urging me to give up and come work for him.

Needless to say, I did not.

VNM Shuttered…

He was right about one thing—a few weeks later I was definitely out of a job, along with quite a few others. I remember coming to work one day to find two signs just inside the entrance to the studio. Some jokester from the art dept had set it up, with a giant, happy message followed by the real news in tiny lettering:


BARBEQUE OUT BACK!

(Also, you’re all fired…)


What was left of VNM Chicago gathered in the parking lot, ate together for probably the last time, and talked about where everyone was going to wind up next. We tried to make the best of it, but the future was awfully unclear for many of us, especially those still invested in making Septerra Core a reality.

NEXT: Odin sends forth the Valkyries, and the project finds a new (permanent) home.


Bonus Content: More galleries from the cutting room floor. Be sure to scroll down for two more galleries.

Cutting Room Floor: Evil Enemies

Select each to enlarge and learn more.


Cutting Room Floor: Notable NPCs and Baddies

Select each to enlarge and learn more.


Cutting Room Floor: Various Vistas, Sleek Ships, & More Enemies

Select each to enlarge and learn more.


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