Our Brilliant Ruin explores the sickly crust of aristocracy left clinging to the edge of the world
On a planet that is not our own, in a timeline very different from ours, the last heirs of aristocracy cling to the shadows of a secluded mountain valley known as the Dramark. It’s only deep within the valley that a tiny, proud crust of civilization can be kept hidden from the Ruin (that’s what people call the light of the dying star that has been changing the countryside and its people for generations, turning them into monsters). Meanwhile, long-dead mechanical constructs called syllokinetics, automatons that were to be the people’s saviors, sit and wither on the horizon. Elsewhere, the Dramark’s lavish estates and their downstairs staff carry on as best they can.
This is the Edwardian-inspired setting for Our Brilliant Ruin, a grim yet gilded new world dreamed up by the small, talented team at Studio Hermitage. Starting Tuesday their vision begins to come to life, first as a tabletop role-playing game and, if its founders are lucky, hopefully as something more — like a comic book or even a video game. At its core is a desperate class struggle, one that could set this world apart from a vast sea of fantasy and science fiction competitors.
Studio Hermitage is a transmedia company founded just a few years ago by Paxton Galvanek, Justin Achilli, and Andy Foltz, all with backgrounds in making video games for companies like Funcom, Ubisoft, and Red Storm. But it’s Achilli’s name that will likely perk up the ears of tabletop fans, since he’s had a hand in the World of Darkness, home to games like Vampire: The Masquerade, for nearly 30 years. His enthusiasm for Our Brilliant Ruin is infectious, and the setting — originally pitched as a post-apocalyptic take on Downton Abbey — appears to be worthy of attention. Its inciting event is the arrival of the Ruin, a dead star with light that causes devastation wherever it touches.
“This light interacts very, very strangely with our planet,” Achilli said. “It’s corrosive. It’s poisonous in and of itself. So it’s eating away at
Read more on polygon.com
