Almost 4 years ago now I blogged about my decision to use Unity for our new game development adventures, and in that time we’ve shipped one game (Washed Up!), stealth-shipped one polished prototype (only to our bestest fans 😏), participated in 4 game jams, and noodled with another 2 prototypes that never saw the light of day. All of those have used Unity, and generally speaking we’ve been quite happy with it.
Recently I needed to do something pretty common in many top-down games: render a whole bunch of health bars for enemies on the screen. Something like this: Obviously, I want to do this as efficiently as possible, preferably all in a single draw call. As I always do before I start something, I did a quick search online of what other people are doing, and the results were…mixed.
The case for self-hosting One of my favourite things about Git is how easy it is to turn any old server into a remote for collaboration & backup. Sure there are fully-fledged Git web services that manage projects, user access, pull requests etc, and these are a must for larger teams. But if you have a super-simple team like I do now (2 people, both co-located), there is beauty in simplicity.
Let’s stop labelling people. We label ourselves, in order to gain acceptance from others, to feel like part of a larger whole, or to claim some kind of “identity”. A neat, easily-parsed silhouette which can be presented as shorthand, like some kind of personality hash. It’s not accurate, but it’s simpler, faster and often more palatable than the hazy, shifting reality. Worse is when we apply labels perjoratively to others; usually it’s to build straw men, their primary purpose to faciliate bad-faith arguments, most commonly on social media.
I’ve had a few friends ask me why we chose the name Old Doorways for our new game development venture. I’ve repeated the explanation enough times now that I figured it was worth blogging about, in case anyone else was wondering. The struggle is real As anyone who has had to name anything - a company, a product, a small human - will know, names are hard. I mean really hard.
This is the fourth instalment of a blog series I’m writing about Nakama, which I’ve used for leaderboards in our first game Washed Up!. Part 1 covers what Nakama is, and why I chose it over other options Part 2 ran you through setting up a basic service you can use for development & testing Part 3 showed you how to run Cockroach in secure mode This part deals with how to set up SSL on the Nakama server.
This is the third instalment of a blog series I’m writing about Nakama, which I’ve been using for leaderboards in our first game Washed Up!. Part 1 covers what Nakama is, and why I chose it over other options Part 2 ran you through setting up a basic service you can use for development & testing The configuration at the end of Part 2 is not ideal; it works, but the database is running in ‘insecure mode’ and there’s no SSL between clients and the server, which could leave it vulnerable to interception attacks.
Part 1 of this blog series talked about what Nakama is, and why I chose it over other options for running leaderboards in our very first game, Washed Up!. Now, let’s get down to the nitty gritty of actually setting it up. A caveat The service you’ll have at the end of following this post is only really suitable for testing. There are some additional steps required to make the service more secure & resilient, that you’ll absolutely want to do before going to production.
I recently needed to set up a leaderboard service for our first game, Washed Up! (coming soon, join our mailing list to stay informed). I ended up deploying the open source server Nakama on Google Compute Engine, and I learned a bunch of things along the way, which I figured could well be helpful for others. This is going to be a short series of posts since there’s quite a lot to cover.
If you asked me my opinion of Dark Souls two weeks ago, I would have said, diplomatically, that it was a much loved game which was just not for me. In truth though, I hated Dark Souls. My experience with it had been universally bad. I originally tried to play it back on the Xbox 360, a few months after it came out. I lasted about 3 hours, spread over a few days - a series of mini-rage quits terminated each individual session after about an hour, leading to a final catastrophic rage quit when I was killed by an invader just as I had struggled to a point I hadn’t been able to get to before.