CLY Project

[O. Ryner]

I’m sharing the opening of this thread to introduce and bring together all the content related to CLYcuerva, a project we are developing slowly, with dedication and a great deal of affection for the game with clicks.

For those who are not familiar with it, CLY is a creative initiative born directly from the spirit of La Línia, our large-scale historical development game. In La Línia we build civilizations with Playmobil, but also stories, mythologies, accessories, videos, board games, and an entire universe of content that spills beyond the tabletop. CLY is precisely the space where all that material takes shape and becomes something that can be shared.

The goal is to begin publishing videos and curated content from February 2026 onward.
Until then, I’ll be sharing small previews in this thread: progress updates, context, screenshots, script fragments, and details about what we’re preparing.

If you’re interested in worldbuilding with Playmobil, long-form games, narrative, handcrafted creation, and play understood as a deep and creative experience… I hope this project proves as stimulating for you as it is for us.

Thanks for stopping by. I think it’s an interesting project, and I’m excited to share it with this community.

[O. Ryner]

Format of the Carthage Game Series

One of the greatest challenges when turning a La Línia game into an audiovisual series is, paradoxically, its very nature: the games are long and dense, and most of the images we have were taken without any thought of future editing. For this reason, in the Carthage Game series we have chosen a mixed format that combines real photographs from the game with aesthetic recreations of the main events.

These recreations are not intended to “beautify” the story, but to give it a visual voice more faithful to its true scale, allowing us to represent scenes that at the time could not be recorded with the quality they deserved, or were not recorded at all. We will build sets, scenes, and figures to recreate key moments: the founding of Carthage, the journey of the first settlers, the birth of the Carthaginian calendar, or the arrival of the Mortarius on the central continent.

The goal is not to reconstruct the past with documentary accuracy, but to recover its emotional truth: what the players lived, imagined, and felt during the game.



On the Use of AI in the Series

The CLYcuerva project is built upon a fundamental idea: the game overflows. From that overflow are born myths, songs, chronicles, banners, genealogies… and also images.

In the series, we will use AI in a limited and very specific way, solely to create artistic representations of the internal myths and narratives of the game. Not to replace the real game, but to give visual form to that which, by its very nature, could never be photographed:
how the Carthaginians imagined Cartar transformed into a tiger;
how the Iliotes envisioned the creation of the world;
how the Costanovese remembered the voyage of their ancestors across the sea.

These images will be treated as ancient paintings, as cultural interpretations. They are not “photos of the world,” but traces of the imaginary of the civilizations that were born within the game.



The Role of Myth in La Línia

In La Línia, myth is never an ornament. It is the first form of historical thought to emerge in every civilization.
Each people tries to explain its origin, justify its present, and often correct its past.
Myth is memory before memory, and it is also politics: a tool through which players and their Clicks give meaning to what they experience turn by turn.

In the Carthage Game, this was especially evident. Before writing, before the first enduring building, before the city even received its name, there were already stories passed around campfires, exaggerated with each generation, traced in the sand and erased at dawn.
History was born when the Carthaginians sought to fix what, until then, had existed only in their voices.

In the series, myth will have its own space: not as literal truth, but as the way a people understands itself.

An example of this can be found in this fragment from the first episode of the Carthage Game series:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUFPCYIyVYw

[Macruran]

SO COOL

[O. Ryner]

SO COOL

Thanks! 😊

[O. Ryner]

These images were not taken to be shared.
They were taken to remember.

In La Línia, the game space is not a set.
It is a territory that changes, accumulates, erodes.

The same place, seen hundreds of turns apart, tells a story without words:
what was empty becomes cultivated, what was provisional becomes permanent, what was alive disappears.



Civilizations do not grow on a clean table.
They grow on top of their own past.

The floor is ordinary.
The light is imperfect.
But the world is real — because it was lived.

What CLY is preparing will be visually more careful, more deliberate, more composed.
But this is where it all comes from:
from a space in constant transformation, from time made visible.

[O. Ryner]

The nights of the Sea of Akah never fail to amaze its sailors.

[Macruran]

  "I swear the water looks just like paper! It is a miracle of Horus!"

[O. Ryner]

"I swear the water looks just like paper! It is a miracle of Horus!"

😂 A true miracle indeed… though not of Horus.
Despite the Egyptian-looking gear, these clicks aren’t Egyptians at all — they’re Carthaginians from the Cartago game, members of the Lupus family: wealthy merchants, lenders, and devoted supporters of the Demerian faction within the Republic. Horus never existed in that world; if anything, they’d be praying to Cartar, or begging Zigum not to let them perish in the mysterious waters of the Akah.

[O. Ryner]

Why the Playmobil figure?

First, by chance: it was what we had at hand and what we had been playing with for years. But that chance was a necessary condition for a game like ours. The Playmobil “click” not only comes with all kinds of accessories, a world of possibilities within reach, but also possesses an essential element: hands with which it can operate in that world.

The click, like humans, takes hold of the world, blends with it, and connects in a way that other figures—or animals, in the case of humans—cannot. That seemingly innocent element, which can easily go unnoticed, is what allows a click to go from holding a hoe to work the fields, to a sword to wage war, or a harp to play music in the palace of a king. It is that hand which, despite the fact that the click may outwardly be dressed as anything, actively defines its relationship with the world.

In the photo, the click who invented the first axe of the game is ready to cut a branch with which he will build a spear to hunt. The same click will be a woodcutter in one turn and a hunter in the next, simply by changing what he holds in his hands.