Welcome to Metal Neko Games

Also entitled, “Wait, who made me the captain of this ship and why did they think it was a good idea?”
Oh. Right.
I did.

Hello and welcome to the official Metal Neko Games™ blog! My name is Eevi, I am the Owner and Creative Lead for MNG and the STARFALL™ universe. We are a small team based out of St. Louis, MO with a long history of game design and production.

We’ve partnered with our friends at Metal Oak Casting Studios to produce a series of games based on a universe I have been developing–more on that later. They will also be hosting our products for sale on their shop when the time comes. Check them out at: http://www.metaloakcastingstudios.com

We have a long road ahead of us before STARFALL: Age of Mercenaries is fully published. Come back every week for updates, short stories, character biographies, art, sculpts and everything else! The Image Gallery tab is a bit spartan at the moment; but we’ll be updating it frequently.

Next week, we’ll be diving into the design of STARFALL™ with an overview of the high concepts and some world-building elements. Until then, please enjoy the first officially published short story from the universe and a glimpse into the inner-monologue of an important figure in the developing history of our alternate-Earth.

Enjoy~ ❤



Written by: Eevi

    Armistice Day, November 11th, 1930–eleven years after the armadas arrived in Earth’s orbit, forcing an end to the Great War. The moment when the Neo-European Empire stilled its cannons for the first time in half a decade as the invading “Peace Forces” entered the skies above the capital still burns vividly in the Father-Knight’s memory. He remembers turning his eyes upward towards the burning sunset, watching in silence as his dreams of conquest dispersed before him like so much engine-wake. 

Today, the beloved alien warlord, Remulanus Domitius, Commander of the First Legion, Breaker of Stars, savior of all Terrans–whether they believe it or not–sits on his modest throne, playing the ever-gracious host to the armistice celebrants whom he welcomes with open arms–and, of course, with such glorious speeches as befitting this wonderful occasion. 

    Today, amongst the assembled world leaders, the official representatives of no less than three extraterrestrial powers, including a handful of legates from his own former home-world, and the throngs of scientists and military leaders from across this planet, he holds the singular honor–nay, the privilege–to open these peace proceedings by introducing the first graduates of the Mercenary Initiative. 

Nine teams of three, each sponsored by their governments to undergo the rigorous training deemed necessary before they would be allowed to represent the assembled peoples of this planet. They enter the grand hall together, wearing their newly established mercenary companies’ full regalia: the latest in Alchemical Combat Suits, redesigned for extreme environments–gleaming, brightly colored, and proud. More companies and more graduates will follow, but these newly christened mercenaries truly represent the best that the Earth has to offer–with some guidance form our new friends and allies.

Yes, yes, the Hegemony in particular has been quite helpful in developing this program in hopes of fostering future alliances. Without their timely interference, after all, who could say how different the world would be today? 

Truth be told, the Extraterrestrial-to-Terran ratio amongst the initial teams had been a matter of great discussion; though, he would admit that to none. The stipulation requiring at least twenty years of active involvement in Terran life had assuaged most of the outcry in his own nation. Regardless, the Father-Knight had successfully secured a fully Terran company for Neo-Europe’s first representatives–what more did he care?

Today, we, as Terrans, take this step forward towards rebuilding our home-world. We celebrate together, as friends and family, eager for this new era of peace and exploration. May today be remembered as the day we stood united behind our chosen few, and may these sons and daughters of the world make us proud as we take our place amongst the galactic powers. 

    Today, the Father-Knight stands, head held high to the faceless masses before him. He ignores the subtle jeers, the hateful stares of the so-called world powers that crumbled against his armies years before, the disingenuous slow-claps of the alien delegations self-corralled in the far corners of the room; today, he refuses to give them the satisfaction. 

But who could say what tomorrow would bring? 

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