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      UPDATED - Studio Note & Rhymes with Play Streams Temporarily Canceled.   03/06/2020

      UPDATE (3/19/20): Just a quick note regarding the team at Klei Entertainment. As noted previously, everybody at Klei Entertainment is working from home due to the Covid-19 outbreak. Many of us have been working especially hard to help maintain operations as we all move out of the office and into our homes and with everything being done online, extra time must be spent in organizing conversations and trying to maintain communication. As some of you may know, we have a very open office and we are almost always in contact with each other as we go about our days. Some of us work across multiple teams and that work has become a bit more challenging for everybody.   That being said, at this time the transition has not caused any major disruption in our operations, but it would be overly optimistic to expect that we won't have any delays at all. We're going to have to be especially mindful about this in the coming weeks and make sure we don't take on too much work so we can keep things running smoothly.  We will let you know as we see how these changes affect our timelines.  Thanks UPDATE (3/10/20):
      The test yesterday went well. We got the whole office (mostly) to work from home without significant issue. As a result, Klei Staff that can work from home have been asked to do so until further notice.  This means that we will have to cancel the Rhymes with Play stream until we are all back in the office. This shouldn't affect anything else at least in the short term, but if things change I will update you all here.  Original Post: Hey everybody,  This Tuesday March 10th, 2020 the entire staff at Klei will be working remotely for 1 day in an effort to prepare the studio to work remotely for a little while if the need arises.  Klei is already set up pretty well to allow for working remotely, however we are going to have a one day "dry run" with the whole studio so that we can identify and avoid any issues or downtime that may arise should choose to implement a work from home policy due to COVID-19 outbreak concerns. Unfortunately this does mean that we will be canceling the “Rhymes with Play” Art stream this coming Tuesday, however unless the situation changes we expect everything at the studio to be back to normal Wednesday and we’ll continue our regular stream schedule Thursday March 12th. If the situation changes at all, we'll let you know. Thanks for your understanding.
       

SnowShepherd

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About SnowShepherd

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Don't Starve
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  1. To quote Guybrush Threepwood - "I always assumed there would be mushrooms in Hell."
  2. Bug Submission Please choose a category [Performance] Platform [*]Steam Version Number 72968 Issue title Magical Mandragora Messin' Mah Mind! Steps to reproduce Have full inventory, carrying something as well, try to pick the Mandrake and it will bug out and make your character dance in spasmodic episode! Describe your issue Have full inventory, carrying something as well, try to pick the Mandrake and it will bug out and make your character dance in spasmodic episode!
  3. Bug Submission Please choose a category [Crash] Platform [*]Steam Version Number - Issue title Plethora of fixes Steps to reproduce Standing in the dark as Willow. Describe your issue Chopping down a withered tree no longer shows the bramble, but, it is there and can be harvested with the shovel for a log. Game allows continuation at world 5-1 but if you fail a second time, all game data is erased. Pigs still call girls "MAN". Consider a new dimension to the array...gender. Grammar needs fixing: I wish it WERE still burning. It appears to be some FORM of lagomorph... (ipsis) with horns. The Mime DOES speak errantly. When a bag is full and on the ground, "It's full." Also, when rapidly swapping between hatchet and shovel while chopping a tree to uproot the stump, "I can't do that." Spiders can still HIT the player when the player is not in front of them. A strike to the right while the player is to the left, will still result in a hit. Why is Willow now afraid of the dark? She has power over shadow. Mundane activities should drive her mad, and setting fire to stuff should restore HER sanity. She's a special girl! The Potato Head should laugh throughout the animation with a crescendo for effect. Binaural beats in a white noise pollen should accompany the insanity. Better, darker droning sounds...I could make for you...FREE...would add to the descent into nightmare. Random screams in graveyards. More headstone humor? Draw on the great headstone humor of the past games. Monkey Island, Day of the Tentacle, etc... Willow should lose sanity faster while doing the mundane activities that bore her to Hell. She should regain sanity by burning things and dancing in the flames and ashes. I want to reprogram Abigail. She will appear EVERY night, take 20 health of blood from Wendy to do so, which can be restore magically with Beefalo Blood potion. Abigail will only harm non-friendly targets, immune to all traps, immune to creep, has more health and does less damage.
  4. Here's a fan art I did of the great BEAST!http://www.aleciashepherd.com/video/3g/3G_google_bird.jpgAnd a video I made of the most epic conflict every recorded on Don't Starve!!!Seriously, this is one for the books, recorded live from my twitch stream! ENJOY!!!!
  5. Bug Submission Please choose a category [Gameplay] Platform SteamVersion Number - Issue title Warrior Spider attack range Steps to reproduce Watch video for steps...GRRRR!!!!!! Describe your issue I know you use bounding boxes, but goddammit, do they need to be so HUGE?!?!?!? http://www.twitch.tv/sn0wshepherd/c/1828671 Watch this video, Total F'N' Ripoff highlight, 3 minutes long, to see a warrior spider strike my character from 15m away across a gap in the ground!! Watch the entire video to see me maneuver through MASSIVE amounts of spider queens and overcoming constant insane odds against spiders and queens and the warriors, tree guardians, countless dog attacks, etc...the most brutal run EVER of this game to day 113 only!!! http://www.twitch.tv/sn0wshepherd/c/1828671 Please find some better way of tracking damage range than the 15 cubic meter bounding box from hell...please?! And for the love of GOD, fix Wendy's text saying the darkness will Soon be hear (should be HERE)...PLEASE!!!
  6. Bug Submission Please choose a category [Gameplay] Platform SteamVersion Number - Issue title Invincible Krampus and exploding Bee Boxes. Steps to reproduce Put Bee Boxes inside a chest, drop a tooth trap near the box, when a turkey hits the trap, the bees inside explode in an endless loop and slaughters us all. Describe your issue Krampus occasionally becomes invincible.
  7. Bug Submission Please choose a category [Gameplay] Platform [*]Steam Version Number 70828 Issue title Bugs, glitches and suggestions with exploit Steps to reproduce several reports Describe your issue N0Sh0 Pig Skin Backpacks Leather-reinforced log suit Extra backback sockets for Wolfgang EVERY pig has a skin...every pig should be skinnable Wear amulet above jacked at armor Turkey Traps Fix the word useage of night will soo be hear to "Soon be HERE" Monsters can hit your bounding box even when you are standing above and behind them by an entire cell [player] <== [monster] Still able to hit with an attack Variety to flowers with alchemy properties for potions to resist damage types Wendy has NO advantages...Abigail harms Wendy more than she harms anything else Aging Pigs to have non-violent way to get Pig Skins Bird Cages SHOULD produce bird feathers Wendy's knowledge of the demonic should give minimal damage reduction from the Night Monster at least Beatles reference to Maxwell's Silver Hammer? When carrying live butterflies, Abigail will kill them all when she spawns at dusk, no matter how many you have collected. When the butterflies die in your inventory, each stack converts to ONE butterfly wing. Space Bar with bug net equipped should default target bugs, especially butterflies, not flowers If the game crashes without being able to sync with the Steam Cloud, the game save on the Steam Cloud will continue to play on for at least long enough for the character to starve to death. Twigleaf - Add a smoke kit to harvest bee hives peacefully Also, rapidly giving items to a pig to eat can load into the pig's inventory before it tries to eat...and let you load a full stack into it where it will eat and poop like a lunatic! 40 flower petals == 40 manure piles if you are fast enough within about 20 seconds.
  8. The voice pierced Wendy's mind again, like the stabbing of an ice pick prying at an ancient glacier formation. It echoed, reverberated and berated. The stench of whatever the lanky Maxwell was smoking filled her olfactory senses, and the cajole of his basSoon-like monotone did their timeless best to drive her eyelids apart. There would be no rest for the wicked. Consciousness, her enemy, lifted her, dusted her off, and reminded her of the one carnal desire that would drive her, again, to whatever goals or lack thereof. Good or bad, constructive or destructive, merciful or merciless, in Hell, only two things were certain rewards; eternity and hunger. The hunger could only be persuaded by constant feeding of its gnawing demands for attention. The eternity could not be avoided. Over time, Wendy had acquired knowledge of all that could be learned from the limits of Hell's lack of ingenuity. She knew that there was a truth to which all things hinted. Whether that truth were real was still beyond her experience. Was the existence of any absolute truth merely another lie? Her goals had long been to find her way to this truth, but her efforts always ended in the same field of mockery into which she was yet again reawakening. Maxwell scoffed and vanished into a puff of sulfur and smoke and Wendy sighed in retrospect of the duties which lay before her; again. She lifted a piece of flint from the ground, tore off some dry brambles and grass, pulled up a few carrots and plucked berries from a nearby bush. She plopped herself down harshly. How long had she been doing this? Did that matter? Was time irrelevant? Was past, future and present all one jumbled mess? Was there an eternal now or an eternal hunger that no great mind could sustain the sanity necessary to feed? Like a brilliant mind incarcerated by deep poisonous hatred by isolation and loneliness, Wendy chewed the same flavorless berries, the same bland and dirty carrot, and cut herself intentionally with the flint to add some flavor to her food. She wished for something with which to wash that goop down, but there was nothing. She knew that others were starting the exact same journey elsewhere in this world. Some world, really. One truth about Hell she had come to know was this; that Hell only seemed huge and intimidating because of the threats against her life, but, was in fact, actually very small and very limited. There was no sunlight, no sun, just a peculiar concept of day. There was no drinkable water, no mist, no wind, no dust, no stars in the sky, and only the idea of a moon somewhere in the inky bleak above. There was, however, perfect darkness which itself was a predator hungry only for the meat of sentient being and only those who were wide awake at night. The others, she had occasionally encountered. There were other humans, and others who were not quite human at all. There were feral races that were only semi-intelligent that could be easily convinced to help or hinder with enough baubles, junk, garbage or most delectably, meat. Wendy had befriended these races, and destroyed them, enlisted their help in exploring the world, and in gathering resources, and had used them for manure, as bait for predators, as distractions against the Others. She had allied with Others at times, and deceived them at a whim in another time. She had killed them, killed herself, killed nothing, killed it all and eaten it, and still her stomach controlled her every action. She had fallen so many times, always forced to get back up, but had never found the secret of rest. She had gone entirely mad several times, some occasions about which she had no recollection any longer, just from the prospect that her plight might just be hopeless and eternal. Wendy dreaded the winter. She dreaded the sickness of eating the poisonous monster meats before cooking them properly and fully. She dreaded the late fall and the early spring, and their demands on her fervor. She would go hungry to assure some was saved for times when no food could be found. Fishing was impossible in the winter for the ponds froze all the way down. Without laboring for adequate shelter, the rain from the murky thought of the sky above her would sicken her even unto death. Colds, flu, electrocution, burning...she had died in so many horrible ways, yet without fail to awaken from death again and again, alone, in Maxwell's field, and the threat of nightfall. Wendy recalled a terrifying film she had once watched, called Groundhog Day. When it was only a whimsical tale of an impossible loophole cured by true love, it was fun and romantic. Now, surviving somehow, for some unknown reason in her own timeless place, the thought of the novel the film had been based upon gave her shivers of wrenching madness and terror. For in the novel, love had no place, and the protagonist never escaped his endless day. A few more brambles, some more flint, tufts of grass, the simplest resources fashioning the simplest tools...she chopped away at a tree whose wood was always too soft and too easily spent in the fire. The tree fell, a squishy noise from inside betraying its inaccessible core of meat or dung. A fire was made, and the night and its insatiable monster descended upon her as always. She pondered by the flickering plumes of dry, odorless, smokeless flame, what she would do this time. Would she make allies or enemies? Would she enslave the feral races or avoid them? Would her loneliness and isolation drive her mad? Would she find the Truth mentioned in the broken ruin of the solitary altar at the geographical center of her bizarre prison world of tiny but deadly sandboxes? Would she die of sickness, poison, disease, starvation; would she be murdered this time, betrayed by the Others, or even trampled to death by the brainless Beefalo? Only one thing mattered aside from the quelling of blood-thirst and meat-hunger; hold fast to the hope that the Truth was a reality and push far from consciousness the fear of its existence being a lie. If there was no Truth ultimately to be discovered somehow, what hope could there ever be of escaping the madness of that knowing? And what of the Truth itself? Would it bring hope or the same madness of knowing that the Truth is merely a seed of hopelessness? There was just as much to fear of the finding of the Truth as there was to fear of the lack of a Truth. Tireless and hungry, Wendy ate and waited to eat again.
  9. An ALTERNATE idea for STORY Mode

    I considered that too, the Groundhog Day reference...I put it in there as an asynchronous allegory. In eternity, all forms of time exist on top of one another.
  10. An ALTERNATE idea for STORY Mode

    Mobius187: My suggestions are laid out with great care and consideration to real environmental challenges. I can expand any of the ideas herein but had hoped the spark of suggestion would be enough to ignite fires of impetus for the developers; at least to a degree at which they might contact me directly for inclusion in the game development process (hence my offer to volunteer without recognition). The premise I am suggestion would be best described in story form, from an omniscient perspective. The voice pierced Wendy's mind again, like the stabbing of an ice pick prying at an ancient glacier formation. It echoed, reverberated and berated. The stench of whatever the lanky Maxwell was smoking filled her olfactory senses, and the cajole of his basSoon-like monotone did their timeless best to drive her eyelids apart. There would be no rest for the wicked. Consciousness, her enemy, lifted her, dusted her off, and reminded her of the one carnal desire that would drive her, again, to whatever goals or lack thereof. Good or bad, constructive or destructive, merciful or merciless, in Hell, only two things were certain rewards; eternity and hunger. The hunger could only be persuaded by constant feeding of its gnawing demands for attention. The eternity could not be avoided. Over time, Wendy had acquired knowledge of all that could be learned from the limits of Hell's lack of ingenuity. She knew that there was a truth to which all things hinted. Whether that truth were real was still beyond her experience. Was the existence of any absolute truth merely another lie? Her goals had long been to find her way to this truth, but her efforts always ended in the same field of mockery into which she was yet again reawakening. Maxwell scoffed and vanished into a puff of sulfur and smoke and Wendy sighed in retrospect of the duties which lay before her; again. She lifted a piece of flint from the ground, tore off some dry brambles and grass, pulled up a few carrots and plucked berries from a nearby bush. She plopped herself down harshly. How long had she been doing this? Did that matter? Was time irrelevant? Was past, future and present all one jumbled mess? Was there an eternal now or an eternal hunger that no great mind could sustain the sanity necessary to feed? Like a brilliant mind incarcerated by deep poisonous hatred by isolation and loneliness, Wendy chewed the same flavorless berries, the same bland and dirty carrot, and cut herself intentionally with the flint to add some flavor to her food. She wished for something with which to wash that goop down, but there was nothing. She knew that others were starting the exact same journey elsewhere in this world. Some world, really. One truth about Hell she had come to know was this; that Hell only seemed huge and intimidating because of the threats against her life, but, was in fact, actually very small and very limited. There was no sunlight, no sun, just a peculiar concept of day. There was no drinkable water, no mist, no wind, no dust, no stars in the sky, and only the idea of a moon somewhere in the inky bleak above. There was, however, perfect darkness which itself was a predator hungry only for the meat of sentient being and only those who were wide awake at night. The others, she had occasionally encountered. There were other humans, and others who were not quite human at all. There were feral races that were only semi-intelligent that could be easily convinced to help or hinder with enough baubles, junk, garbage or most delectably, meat. Wendy had befriended these races, and destroyed them, enlisted their help in exploring the world, and in gathering resources, and had used them for manure, as bait for predators, as distractions against the Others. She had allied with Others at times, and deceived them at a whim in another time. She had killed them, killed herself, killed nothing, killed it all and eaten it, and still her stomach controlled her every action. She had fallen so many times, always forced to get back up, but had never found the secret of rest. She had gone entirely mad several times, some occasions about which she had no recollection any longer, just from the prospect that her plight might just be hopeless and eternal. Wendy dreaded the winter. She dreaded the sickness of eating the poisonous monster meats before cooking them properly and fully. She dreaded the late fall and the early spring, and their demands on her fervor. She would go hungry to assure some was saved for times when no food could be found. Fishing was impossible in the winter for the ponds froze all the way down. Without laboring for adequate shelter, the rain from the murky thought of the sky above her would sicken her even unto death. Colds, flu, electrocution, burning...she had died in so many horrible ways, yet without fail to awaken from death again and again, alone, in Maxwell's field, and the threat of nightfall. Wendy recalled a terrifying film she had once watched, called Groundhog Day. When it was only a whimsical tale of an impossible loophole cured by true love, it was fun and romantic. Now, surviving somehow, for some unknown reason in her own timeless place, the thought of the novel the film had been based upon gave her shivers of wrenching madness and terror. For in the novel, love had no place, and the protagonist never escaped his endless day. A few more brambles, some more flint, tufts of grass, the simplest resources fashioning the simplest tools...she chopped away at a tree whose wood was always too soft and too easily spent in the fire. The tree fell, a squishy noise from inside betraying its inaccessible core of meat or dung. A fire was made, and the night and its insatiable monster descended upon her as always. She pondered by the flickering plumes of dry, odorless, smokeless flame, what she would do this time. Would she make allies or enemies? Would she enslave the feral races or avoid them? Would her loneliness and isolation drive her mad? Would she find the Truth mentioned in the broken ruin of the solitary altar at the geographical center of her bizarre prison world of tiny but deadly sandboxes? Would she die of sickness, poison, disease, starvation; would she be murdered this time, betrayed by the Others, or even trampled to death by the brainless Beefalo? Only one thing mattered aside from the quelling of blood-thirst and meat-hunger; hold fast to the hope that the Truth was a reality and push far from consciousness the fear of its existence being a lie. If there was no Truth ultimately to be discovered somehow, what hope could there ever be of escaping the madness of that knowing? And what of the Truth itself? Would it bring hope or the same madness of knowing that the Truth is merely a seed of hopelessness? There was just as much to fear of the finding of the Truth as there was to fear of the lack of a Truth. Tireless and hungry, Wendy ate and waited to eat again.
  11. PLEASE rethink your approach!!! After playing the game for 100 hours and chatting with 100's of people about this GREAT game idea...I have created a HUGE demographic from live stream viewers on my stream on TWITCH.tv. If you want field-research data...here's what people are CHOOSING to watch and what they want to see in the future! IDEAS: Escalating predators over time is BAD. Predators are reduced in an environment over time. Building portals to multiple world-forms is BAD. Survivors build a sense of ownership over their accomplishments, and such an approach would kill the idea of survival. It would become an adventure-exploration game with a survival element. Deliver what you promised: A PURE survival game! The game industry is founded on making everything conform to a psychological hegemonic because that's what makes money. I understand the investment and the risk of game development, but, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I would like to encourage you to work out some of the ideas that I present here as they are formed from the culmination of many hours of conversation with gamers who love survival genre about the future of your game. Adding seasons is a GREAT idea. But there are crops that COULD be grown in winter. Allow survivors to claim ownership over their world!!! A Rogue-Like gauntlet mode could incorporate the idea of world-hopping. The core STORY Mode could also incorporate the idea that there IS a TRUTH out there to be discovered. Make it an OPTION to pursue this TRUTH...but with knowledge that a 1-way portal can be made from the locations of the TRUTH back to your home of choice. One world type along the journey may suit a player more than another. They could choose their home world/portal-tie. Here's the proposal for the devs from my brain-storming sessions about what I HOPE will become the most unique and well-received survival game made since ROGUE!!! Multiple races can exist in the distant Biomes. These races are trying to also survive. They send out explorers. NOTE: Extensive exploration is not conducive to survival! You develop alliances with nearby races; The Pig Men and their King, for instance. Enough faction with them allows you to hire explorers who can map areas for you. You can send research teams or establish resource gathering teams (in the vein of Kingdom for Kefflings, but with not so much reliability of the workers or constant supplies...PAYING them gets the results). Pay them in meat or other morbid currency. They or you may encounter along the way other race members who are in the process of surviving. These representatives can become allies or enemies. They will assess you with simple questions. What is your purpose? Who are you? What can you give to me? So your resource Biomes will come to competition. Allies might share resources or exchange them. Enemies will steal, destroy, even kill for those resources. Based on your actions over time, you can lose faction. An NPC randomly rolled to have chaotic evil inclinations COULD violate your trade agreements and incur your wrath by having lost faction with you. Enemy races will be single characters with groups of lackeys; just as you start off in the game. Say for instance, Wendy has an army of 10 Pig Men to protect her. Dirmu the Werewolf person has an army of 10 Fox-Men. Lackeys are semi-sentient feral people, of course. Leaders fighting for survival; each with their own goals, some for domination, others for seeking this alleged truth hinted towards by ancient text in a single ruined temple of sorts. Increases in shared technology could create safe supply lines. Harsher Biomes could yield more powerful predators. Predators may retaliate when encroached upon or threatened by survivor races. Add weather to the idea of seasons. Add alchemy research to find cures for sicknesses. Weather could make you sick. Incorporate shelter with lock mechanisms. In winter, how do you stay warm? In summer, how do you stay cool? Irrigation into a sea-water sand-based filtration system to add cooling, fire-fighting, etc. Everyone hates the idea of unrealistic challenges that increase over time. Increased random predator attacks could be replaced by more uncommon predator attacks from much stronger predators...where the beasts are strengthened through survival as well; or, acting our of desperation. Not enough time is really passing in the game for monster breeding or for much strength increases. Perhaps if the TRUTH of Don't Starve is that you are inside a tiny grain of sand in Hell...then diabolical forces would explain every inconsistency the way the Mass Effect does. Summary: Seasons with weather that causes disease. Eating bad food causes sickness. Disease and sickness will hinder mobility, thinking, etc. ISOLATION creates insanity. You should not FORCE your players to be good little Hellions; let them choose friend or foe...as was seen in Castaway, insanity can create anxiety about the future, which in turn becomes the impetus for creation and ingenuity. This should be the player's choice as to HOW to survive. Add the ability to create shelters. Add ability to dig holes for Google-Bird traps. Add the ability to shave Berry Bush cut-roots to prevent their extinction if you intend to add blight, famine, weather issues that destroy them, or environmental catastrophes. Add other NPC AI-based survivors and other lackey races for them to use and create encounters which the player may use to choose allies or enemies. NPC survivors may encounter one another and make the same choices with or without player knowledge or involvement. Example of allies and enemies...a berry-farmer may be in world one, biome one, when, after 200 days of relative peace, a Werewolf named Durin approaches them cautiously, asking who they are and how they got there. Don't design the game NPCs to presume aggro. If a player is evil, they may ally with evil NPCs for resource exchange or choose to explore together into much harsher biomes with sturdier predators. Please do something about Abigail's orgasmic moaning!! Insanity level MAX out as Soon as she spawns because of hate of that ultra-LOUD noise, not out of fear of free-floating Pac-Man apparitions. I consider Wendy as playing in Hard-Mode because of Abigail...she damages me constantly, and enemies, nearly never. That's all for now. I would love to have direct conversations about this. I expect NO compensation or money or anything regardless of whatever contributions I might make to your game's developmental progress. I want to help see this game become something exceptional...something akin to true, pure survival with realistic goals and with no demands...Minecraft gained a large portion of its success from the no-demands aspect. Just survive. I will gladly volunteer my talents towards helping with adding elements to the game. I am quite an artist/writer/musician...very creative...so...please respond from the dev table about my initial suggestions and let me know if there's anything I can volunteer to assist in polishing one of my new game favorites.
  12. This game needs a co-op

    The game already IS excellent. NO CO-OP! That burned out idea is too over-played! NO CO-OP! To HELL with CO-OP! I want to beat a fuggin game with MY OWN skill, wit, intellect, ingenuity. The constant DEMAND for CO_OP is a serious indication of the slack-jaw mindless gamers out there who can't think critically or creatively for themselves to overcome a DAMNED THING!!!!!!!!!! NOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  13. Bug Submission Please choose a category [Crash] Platform Steam Version Number - Issue title X-Split broadcast crash Steps to reproduce Play Don't Starve while streaming through X-Split. Close X-Split. Don't Starve becomes inaccessible instantly. Assume it is crashing when changing Windows 7 color themes from classic to custom. Describe your issue Also note some biomes when first arriving will glare with ridiculously brilliant concentric rays of light. This does not purge over time, nor at night.