I need some help with the lore for the game I’m making
it’s a game where ur stuck in a crypt but I don’t rly have a storyline rn
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I’ll make some, I’m dealing with drama rn.
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What if the crypt is actually just a simulation and your actions are shown to your family.
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@Kormorant
more details please.
until I do I have no ideas
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pretty deep stuff here lol 
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maybe its like saw, where u were taken to a trial to help u appreciate life, but maybe more pg
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I could do that.
I’m just waiting for them to post
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puzzlemaster
person who trapped you in there, similar to how saw is
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alright I’ll start now
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would puzzle master have an assistant like jigsaw did?
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yes! the assistant would try to help you more with hints and when u get owie (idk if I can stay hvrt) healers and stuff
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@Kormorant Hope this is satisfactory, feel free to check it for the use of AI seeing as you were so quick to accuse me of it previously.
The Grave of Dreams
“I haven’t exactly had the best life, but at least I’m alive while the rest lay in rubble, right?” you think to yourself as you stagger away from the broken edifice of the building that only moments before had been posted to host the greatest artists of the region, yourself included. Your entire life’s work had led to this moment, all the ridicule at the hands of your school “peers”, the fierce, some might say damaging, competitive atmosphere of your art school, and the uphill battle to achieve this position all gone in an instant, all because some fool who wasn’t good enough for the art school decided to blow up the place with himself as a vessel out of spite. You’d been relying on the patrons here for the Gimbucks for your rent, and lo and behold, that crummy landlord Carver having posted an eviction notice on your door, your sculptures in a shattered heap in front of the door. Letting out a cry of fury, you storm out into the streets as night falls, hoping to find shelter for the night as dark clouds gather in the skies above.
Darting within the darkened alleyways of Gimenna, you find yourself soaked with rain, shivering in the autumnal cold as you trek through the dormant cityscape. Seeing a fire lit at the end of a nearby opening, you approach, hoping whoever lit it is hospitable. Unfortunately, you find yourself in the company of a scraggly band of delinquents that homelessness is typically associated with, who quickly encircle you hoping to grab a quick buck, clearly inebriated by some sort of drink. Knowing physical confrontation has never been your strong suit, you dart off into the alleys as they give chase, hurling sharp stones with unnerving accuracy towards your fleeing figure.
Turning a corner, you slip on a deep puddle and go flying facedown into it, immediately scrabbling to your feet to resume your flight only to find decrepit stone walls surrounding you, overgrown with moss fed by faint rays of moonlight trickling in from cracks in the ceiling, a deluge of water flowing through them. On the wall in front of you lies an engraving, tinged red by what seems to have originated from the scabbed stub of the arm of a nearby corpse, the stench of decay flooding your senses. It reads:
“Fellow traveler, you have not much time. This place… it consumes those who are most desperate and isolated, leeching their sanity as they stumble through its twisted chambers. I would advise you to escape, but there is none I know of, at least in a physical form. You could save your mind and soul now though, the agony of this vines quills is nothing compared to what lies deeper in. Spare yourself from this Grave of Dreams.”
Horrified by the implications, you stumble away from the moss that had seemed so enchanting only a moment before. Gathering yourself, you take a glove from the body of your predecessor and use it to pick up one of the sharper vines, a Prickler. Surely its effects on you will be shown on other living creatures, and it seems you may encounter some if the message is anything to go off of.
Warily, you tread out of the chamber and into the crumbling halls of the crypt, avoiding the moss and dodging more conventional, if stereotypical, traps such as pitfalls and axes triggered by floor tiles. Having reached the next room you turn slightly at the sound of groaning from where you had just came. The silhouette of the body looms highlighted in the moonlight as it staggers towards you, host to the vines which now seek your flesh for sustenance. While that vessel falls pray to the traps you just evaded, you see several more forming in your room, regenerating their forms shortly after you subdue them to continue their relentless quest for your nutrients.
Recognizing it is a losing battle, you flee into a side chamber, temporarily sealing it by firing at the supports to cause a collapse. Already you hear them scratching at the displaced rocks, searching for entry. Adrenaline pumping through your veins, you perceive a series of strange murals adorning the rooms walls, tiles laying scattered in the center to be placed in the wall next to the door leading deeper into the crypt. As you frantically begin to match the tiles to their sockets, you begin to notice the murals are portraying the worst moments of your life, showing your inadequacy in empathy, your arrogant isolation from your classmates, all those little instances which served to leave you alone in your most desperate hour. Fighting back the wave of guilt that had slowed your progress, you finish the twisted exhibit, the door sliding inward just as the first vines begin to creep through the rubble left in your wake.
Journeying deeper, you find yourself looming over a seemingly bottomless abyss, with only a thin, crumbling ledge on the adjacent wall to cling to in aid of your traverse. Cautiously edging out onto it, you begin to hear whispers echoing from the void below, crying for you to come with them, that it shall ease your pain. For a moment, you contemplate it, the peace of eternal rest, the scratching sounds of roots ceasing their approach as the voices rise in pitch, their demands growing more emphatic with each passing moment. Somehow, you are able to fight their pull long enough to reach the other side, collapsing from the mental exertion of the feat, the voices dulled to a quiet murmur now that you have distanced yourself from the pit. Yet as you rise to leave in search of an exit, they cease, with one solitary phrase ringing in your ears:
“You will become one of us. You were given two chances to do so easily, and now you shall experience a physical agony rivaling only that of your emotional anguish. Know that the fault lies with you, as it does with your peers passing.”
Sprinting off into the tunnel, the torchlight and cackling, ominous cries fading in unison, you grapple with the guilt of the statement. For it’s true, after a fashion. You knew the embittered applicant had planned this, but neglected to inform the police, figuring it would be targeted solely to individuals, and not the venue itself. That folly ultimately cost you the one shot at all you had wanted, taking scores of lives alongside it.
Aching with regret, you emerge into a cavern stretching towards the surface, the water pelting your visage now welcome due to its source from beyond this nightmare. You begin your ascent, the cave floor slowly flooding beneath you as you climb. Feeling a sense of bliss and renewed purpose, you resolve to turn yourself in for your role in the booming, and serve whatever life left after that point in service of others.
This reverie is interrupted by the shattering of the cavern wall, sending debris into the air as a writhing mass of vines pulsing pink with the rage of the tormented hive mind of souls set on absorbing you to their number, one limb at a time for the resistance you have provided. Firing into it, you flee further as it chases you, only just barely managing to reach the surface, your mind once more fading to black.
When you wake, you find yourself lying in the alley, the light of dawn slowly creeping over the rooftops as a cop kneels beside you, explaining he’d had chased off the hobos. A sense of calm fills you as you confess your guilt, and face the consequences, unburdened at last.
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As a gameplay explanation of the above essay, you could have a timed survival or amount of knockouts in a time limit for the first plant fight, a timed event for the mural puzzle that slows you from grief as time progresses, with the plants eventually breaching the chamber. For the pit, the player might have to fire at happy memories within a short time limit to avoid being dragged into the abyss. For the flooding final chase, water is instant oof, the player must fire at specific rocks to clear debris on the trail while firing at least one projectile to slow the hive mind every 10 seconds.
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I can see why he would think that is ai generated but it is not
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Not this essay specifically, he chose to unjustly criticize another one of my prior essays in a different topic without bothering to run a basic AI check to support his accusation. Now, I will always write a good lore essay so long as the one requesting it is competent, but I have a long memory for perceived slights and will make reference to them when they are deemed unresolved. That said, further discussion of this would be considered off topic. As an anecdote to provide some level of contribution, I will also note that Ozis would be perfectly applicable substitutes for Evil Plants should you desire a winter setting for the game.
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LORE:
You wake up, trapped in a crypt, which you learn its not a tomb but a testing ground made by a cold, heartless creature known as “The Warden.” This “Trial of the Chosen” is a series of d3ath/life like puzzles designed to test your character, forcing you to confront past selfishness to “help you appreciate life.” You aren’t completely alone a “Puzzle-Master” a previous subject now owned to the crypt, secretly helps you. They act as your healer after you fail a puzzle and leave you hints, all while hiding their actions from The Warden. Your goal is to navigate these trials, learn the Warden’s “lesson” to earn your freedom, and maybe find a way to free the Attendant also.
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Idk maybe indiana jones style lore
You wake up in a crypt, and you don’t know here you came from originally. You need to escape to find out your past. Guides along the way give you tiny reminders of who you once were. Escape the crypt to unlock your true potential.
sorry I wasnt tryna be rude ive just had never seen someone write like that without AI
also everyone thanks for the lore so far
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ayyy some more stuff for Puzzlemaster XD nice fusion of my info!