OMFG: The Fate of Mortals is a PvE extraction action game where elixirs make you strong. Each elixir lends you its martial art — for a while. Gather herbs and loot across a primal Wuxia world. Get home alive and you brew the next elixir, then head back out.
OMFG: The Fate of Mortals 在线人数与 Steam 图表
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开发者铁卯帮发行商铁卯帮类型动作冒险独立
—成就—DLC
关于这款游戏
玩家数更新于 — · 商店数据更新于 9月23日 02:32 UTC · 来源:SteamWebAPI
Oriental Martial Fantasy Game: The Fate of Mortals traces the life of one ordinary physician.
In the raw wilderness of high antiquity, among the beasts that crawl out of it, you have to stay alive.
You don't learn martial arts here. You eat them. Dig up the herbs. Brew the elixir. Eat it. That elixir decides the martial art you'll fight with next.
The gourd spirit at your side helps you do it.
One Pill, One Martial Art
Swallow a sword elixir and sword qi runs out of you — you fight as a swordsman. A staff elixir, staff qi. Drink liquor and out come drunken fists.
Nothing accumulates in you. The art is held in the pill, and you borrow it only while the dose lasts. What you packed before you left is how you fight today.
Into the Unknown, Back Alive
The battlefield is generated fresh every time you enter it. The terrain, what's lying around, what's waiting for you — different every run.
Weight and volume are both capped. You decide on the spot what gets left behind. Die and you lose everything you were carrying — what you left at the village stays yours.
Regroup at the Village
Raise workbenches with what you hauled back. Widen your storage. Wrap bandages, simmer remedies, brew and age the elixirs you'll need next.
Tension out there, repair back here, turn and turn about. What you built at the village is your odds of walking back into it.
The Spirit in the Gourd
The gourd spirit woke inside the heirloom your parents left you. Your guide, and your brewing vessel.
The liquid it offers is your first elixir. There is not an endless supply of it.
Before the Martial Arts Had Names
This is high antiquity — no writing, no schools, no established forms. People are only starting to learn how to fight by copying beasts and grasses.
Shennong chewed his way through every grass on earth and wrote down what each one did. You pick up where he left off. This is the story of the man later called the first immortal, back when he was nobody.
Nothing lasts. Not what you carried, not the art you swallowed, not the village you built.
So don't be afraid to lose it. Brew again. Go back out.