The Ventureweaver

There’s something sacred about creation. Every world, every room, every whisper in The Labyrinth of Time’s Edge has been built, line by line, by my own hands. From the first flicker of a lantern in the dark to the distant toll of a bell lost to time, I’ve watched this game grow into something more than just a collection of words, it has become a living story.

Creation, to me, is more than art. It’s a connection. It’s the bridge between imagination and heart, a way to share something that exists only in dreams with those who choose to walk beside it. Every time you step into this labyrinth, you’re not just playing; you’re joining me in the act of keeping creation alive. When I began this journey, I didn’t know how far it would go. But every late night, every line of code, every room I built brought me closer to something deeper, a story that, I hope, brings you joy, peace, and maybe even a moment of wonder. Because life is short, and moments like these, where imagination meets gratitude, are what make it all worthwhile.

As the house fills with the scent of roasted turkey and all the fixings, I can’t help but pause for a moment and take it all in. There’s something deeply grounding about Thanksgiving, not just the meal, but the reminder that creation extends beyond pixels, text, and code. It’s in the people who stand beside us, the laughter that fills the room, and the stories we share when the world slows down long enough to listen.

Building The Labyrinth of Time’s Edge has been a journey of countless late nights, endless cups of coffee, and quiet moments of reflection. But the real magic isn’t just in the thousands of rooms or the lore woven between them, it’s in the people who’ve joined me along the way. My family, who fills my life with warmth and patience; my community, who reminds me that what I create matters; and everyone of you who’s ever stepped into this strange world I’ve built and found a spark of wonder there.

From my home in Edmonton, Alberta, where the snow whispers outside and the home smells of Thanksgiving dinner, I just want to say thank you. For being here. For believing. For exploring this adventure with me.

Here’s to good food, good stories, and good people.

Happy Thanksgiving, adventurers.

— The Ventureweaver