Conjury Revell

Conjury Revell is a first-person shooter developed by SMU Guildhall students, set in a gothic steampunk world of a dystopian city floating in the clouds. Players embody a rebellious dissident, wielding a diverse arsenal of ice, fire, lightning spells, and gravity powers to engage in wave-based arena combat against faceless oppressors, dashing, jumping, and manipulating the environment to dismantle a regime of magical control and pave the way for a freer future.

Conjury Revell: Review

Introduction

In a gaming landscape dominated by sprawling open-world epics and hyper-realistic blockbusters, Conjury Revell emerges as a refreshing reminder of raw, unfiltered creativity—a bolt of lightning from a student workshop that electrifies the arena shooter genre. Developed as a capstone project by a team of aspiring game makers at Southern Methodist University’s Guildhall program, this free-to-play first-person shooter catapults players into a gothic steampunk rebellion, where spells crackle like forbidden thunder against waves of mechanical tyranny. Released in February 2023, Conjury Revell may lack the polish of industry giants, but its legacy as a testament to educational innovation shines through, proving that even in tight timelines, bold ideas can forge unforgettable moments. My thesis: While ambitious scope creep and narrative cuts temper its potential, Conjury Revell excels as a visceral showcase of magical combat in a hauntingly atmospheric world, marking it as a hidden gem for fans of fast-paced shooters and a vital stepping stone in the careers of its young creators.

Development History & Context

The story of Conjury Revell begins not in a high-stakes corporate studio, but in the collaborative halls of SMU Guildhall, a pioneering game development program founded in 2003 that has graduated over 1,100 alumni working at more than 350 studios worldwide. This 27-person team from Cohort 31’s “Team Orange”—comprising level designers like lead Yixun Guo, artists, programmers, a game designer, and a producer—tackled the project over a grueling six-month capstone known as the Team Game Project (TGP). Drawing from the verb “rebel,” the core vision crystallized around a magic-wielding dissident uprising in a steampunk dystopia, blending elemental sorcery with environmental manipulation to topple an oppressive regime. As Guo’s postmortem reveals, pre-production brainstorming yielded ambitious ideas: four spell types (Fire, Crystal/Ice, Lightning, Gravity) with short/long casts for combinations, player skills like ziplines and jump pads, and environmental interactions (e.g., wind shattering oil lamps to spawn fire tornadoes). Influences from DOOM‘s relentless pacing and Control‘s fluid spell-switching shaped the blueprint, aiming for a linear yet arena-driven flow across three levels.

Technological constraints were ever-present in this academic sprint. Built on Unreal Engine 4 with PhysX for physics, the team navigated a modest scope: 20-30 minutes of playtime, single-player focus, and three enemy types against waves of “faceless oppressors” (robotic enforcers). Hardware demands were entry-level—minimum specs like an Intel i5-6600K and GTX 770—reflecting the Unreal engine’s accessibility for students without AAA budgets. However, the era’s gaming landscape in early 2023 amplified these hurdles. Post-pandemic, indie and student projects competed with juggernauts like Elden Ring and God of War Ragnarök, where wave-based shooters like Splitgate or The Finals emphasized multiplayer polish. Free-to-play models on Steam and Epic Games Store were booming, but discovery was fierce; Conjury Revell‘s zero-price tag was a smart hook, yet its student origins risked being overlooked amid viral hits. Internal challenges compounded this: scope overestimation led to cuts (e.g., gun-spell hybrid combat, ziplines, combined spells), a “snowball effect” of morale dips from repeated iterations, and cross-discipline friction (e.g., realism vs. gameplay priorities). As programmer Tianze “Tim” Wu noted in his reflections, repetitive redesigns and delayed cuts wasted time, but early tech prototyping (e.g., jump pads via blueprints) allowed iteration. The soundtrack, a three-month collaboration with SMU’s Meadows School of the Arts, added orchestral depth, featured in their Emerging Sounds concert—a rare interdisciplinary flourish. Ultimately, Conjury Revell embodies Guildhall’s ethos: hands-on learning in a volatile industry, where 4-5 months of prototypes, alphas, and betas forged a shippable product despite the odds.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Conjury Revell‘s narrative is a skeletal framework wrapped in thematic rebellion, more implied than overt due to time constraints that axed much of the scripted content. Players embody an unnamed dissident in a fog-shrouded, cloud-perched steampunk metropolis under “magical oppression”—a regime wielding arcane tech to subjugate the masses. The plot unfolds across three levels: starting in gritty city streets, escalating to airship skirmishes, and culminating in a high-altitude assault symbolizing the forge of a “better future.” Absent explicit cutscenes or dialogue (as level designer Aubrie Starks detailed in her postmortem, initial drafts pivoted from a hopeful youth to a jaded rebel but were scrapped), the story relies on environmental storytelling: towering clock towers as authoritarian landmarks, crumbling infrastructure hinting at systemic decay, and enemy drops from patrolling airships evoking surveillance dread.

Thematically, the game probes dystopian control and magical revolt, echoing Bioshock Infinite‘s floating-city tyranny but infusing it with elemental mysticism. Themes of faceless oppression manifest in robotic foes—hulking bruisers, agile skirmishers, and ranged suppressors—that embody dehumanized enforcement, their waves a metaphor for overwhelming conformity. The player’s arsenal, switching between Ice (freezing crowds), Fire (area denial), and Lightning (precision chains), plus Gravity powers for flinging debris or foes, symbolizes empowerment through forbidden arts. Dialogue drafts (e.g., Starks’ iterations) reveal a jaded protagonist bantering with an NPC ally, underscoring egotism born of resistance: lines like “They think chains can hold the storm?” highlight hubris against tyranny. Yet, the cuts leave this underdeveloped; without voiced interplay or story beats (envisioned as loading-screen cards), themes feel emergent rather than immersive. Characters are archetypal: the silent rebel protagonist, a nebulous regime, and voiceless machines—no deep arcs, but the environmental cues (e.g., propaganda posters in fog-laden alleys) build a noirish alternate history. In extreme detail, the narrative’s strength lies in subtlety—each level’s progression mirrors escalating defiance: Level 1’s street-level skirmishes evoke grassroots uprising, Level 2’s urban sprawl tests sustained rebellion, and Level 3’s airships demand aerial audacity. Flaws aside, it thematizes student ambition: raw potential curtailed by reality, much like the dissident’s fight.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

At its core, Conjury Revell delivers a taut loop of wave-based arena combat, where survival hinges on spell-slinging agility in confined yet vertical spaces. The 20-30 minute campaign spans three levels—city streets, urban heights, and airship decks—each a linear chain of 2-3 arenas escalating in enemy density and environmental hazards. Combat is frenetic PvE: waves spawn in scripted bursts (using Unreal blueprints for timing and positioning), forcing players to dash, double-jump, and manipulate gravity to reposition amid chaos. Three spells form the arsenal: Ice for crowd control (freezing groups into brittle statues for shattering), Fire for explosive AoE (igniting oil slicks or foes into fireballs), and Lightning for chaining damage across clusters. Gravity powers augment this—low/high pulls fling enemies off ledges or hurl barrels as improvised weapons—encouraging environmental synergy, like toppling statues onto clusters.

Character progression is minimalist: no RPG trees, just mana recharges via pickups and quick-switch mechanics (mouse wheel or keys; laptop users gripe in Steam forums about finicky bindings). UI is clean but basic—HUD shows health, mana, and spell icons—leveraging direct control for intuitive casting (left-click short cast, hold for charged long cast). Innovations shine in mobility: jump pads and monorails (retained from prototypes) enable parkour loops, while airship motion in Level 3 adds disorienting sway, demanding adaptive gravity use. Flaws emerge from cuts: absent spell combos (e.g., Fire+Ice for steam blasts) simplify depth, and early gun integration (removed after balance woes—guns overshadowed spells) leaves combat purely magical, occasionally feeling one-note without hybrid tactics. Enemy AI is competent but predictable—bruisers charge, skirmishers flank—lacking advanced behaviors, leading to repetitive waves. UI niggles include sparse feedback (e.g., no kill cams) and occasional autosave bugs (fixed post-launch via playtesting). Overall, the loop—scout arena, charge spells, evade waves, exploit props—hooks with DOOM-like momentum, but tighter polish could elevate it from solid student work to genre standout.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Conjury Revell‘s world is a brooding gothic steampunk marvel, a “city in the clouds” where brass gears grind against perpetual fog, airships loom like iron specters, and arcane spires pierce the ether. Level 1’s rain-slicked streets pulse with noir dystopia: narrow alleys flanked by gas lamps and shadowed archways, where broken ladders and jump pads guide vertical rebellion. Level 2 expands to sprawling plazas with clock towers as omnipresent landmarks, their chimes underscoring authoritarian rhythm amid statue-lined boulevards. Level 3’s airship armada introduces precarious decks, swaying containers for cover, and abyssal drops that amplify vertigo—environmental storytelling at its finest, with debris fields narrating prior skirmishes.

Art direction nails atmospheric cohesion: Unreal Engine 4’s lighting crafts moody contrasts—harsh spotlights piercing mist, warm spell glows clashing with cold steel palettes. Student artists iterated from white-box blockouts to polished assets, emphasizing verticality (e.g., multi-tiered arenas) and conveyance (signs, color-coded paths). Fog and parallax backgrounds (prototyped for dynamism) enhance immersion, though cut elements like looping airships hint at untapped spectacle. Sound design elevates this: a fully orchestrated soundtrack, composed over three months by SMU Meadows collaborators, weaves orchestral swells with industrial clanks—brassy motifs for steampunk flair, ethereal strings for magical tension. Spell audio pops viscerally: Ice’s crystalline cracks, Fire’s roaring whooshes, Lightning’s electric zaps sync with PhysX impacts for tactile feedback. Ambient layers—distant airship hums, rain patter, enemy whirs—build paranoia, while the lack of voiceover (due to cuts) lets soundscapes breathe. Collectively, these elements forge an oppressive yet exhilarating atmosphere, where every blast feels like defying the heavens, making the world a co-conspirator in the rebellion.

Reception & Legacy

Upon its February 7, 2023, launch on Steam and Epic Games Store, Conjury Revell garnered a “Very Positive” Steam verdict—93% approval from 174 reviews—praising its “cool spellcasting” and “fun, engaging combat” despite being a free student demo. Players lauded the magical arsenal’s satisfaction and steampunk vibe, with tags like “Arena Shooter,” “FPS,” and “Atmospheric” dominating user curation. Commercial success was niche: zero revenue as F2P, but 1 collection on MobyGames and steady Steam plays (peaking post-launch) reflect organic discovery. Critically, it’s under-the-radar—no MobyGames scores, sparse press—but outlets like Kotaku and VG Times noted its promise, with forums highlighting minor bugs (e.g., laptop controls, missing achievements) that updates addressed.

Reputation has evolved positively: initial gripes about repetition softened as players appreciated its brevity, evolving from “student project” novelty to a cult F2P darling for spell-slinger fans. Influence ripples through Guildhall’s ecosystem—team members like Guo and Wu parlayed it into portfolios, influencing alumni at studios emphasizing indie shooters. Broader industry impact? Modest but meaningful: it spotlights educational pipelines, akin to DigiPen or USC projects, inspiring wave-based magic hybrids (echoing Immortals of Aveum). As a free beacon, it democratizes access, potentially shaping future student works toward tighter scopes. Legacy-wise, Conjury Revell endures as a snapshot of youthful ingenuity amid crunch, its 93% score a quiet victory in an oversaturated market.

Conclusion

Conjury Revell distills the chaos of rebellion into crackling spells and soaring arenas, a student symphony of steampunk sorcery that punches above its six-month weight. From Guildhall’s collaborative forge—marked by visionary brainstorming, scope battles, and orchestral flair—to its thematic undercurrents of defiance, the game captivates with frenetic combat loops, evocative worlds, and untapped potential marred by cuts. Reception affirms its joys, cementing a legacy as an educational milestone that influences through its creators’ futures. Verdict: Essential for arena shooter enthusiasts and a 8/10 hallmark in video game history’s student chapter—proof that even incomplete revolutions can ignite the genre. Download it free; let the clouds burn.