NEWS: Pantheon for 1.8 is now released! The map has been hugely overhauled to make sure it plays nice in the 1.8.x updates, so download it and give it a try! Full changelog can be viewed below.
A team of CTMers comes, after several years, to painstakingly present to you...
Welcome to ProjectCTM, a collaboration project between many CTM mapmakers that's striving to make collaboration CTM maps better known through trial, error and lack of consistent deadlines. ProjectCTM is mostly a service where we come to you for our main maps, and won't make it public any time soon. Maybe. Soon.
Enjoy the silence, while you can.
Standard CTM Rules:
Chances are, if you really need to read the rules again, you're not ready for maps this level of difficulty. But, here you go anyway.
1) Find and complete the Monument to the Gods
2) Find wool in chests (Fleecy Boxes) scattered around the map, do NOT use dyes or spider string for wools!
3) You may craft the Iron, Gold, and Diamond blocks.
4) Use at least Easy difficulty, and never Peaceful.
5) Do not leave the boundaries of the map and go into normally generated Minecraft terrain.
6) Survive in any way you can think of. (Yes, you can mine, craft, and place blocks.)
7) You may use spider string wool and sheep wool to craft beds and other items, but not for the Victory Monument.
8) You may not pick up, craft, or move Ender Chests.
9) We hate you. You will never finish this map.
On Mods: You may use mods that do not directly affect gameplay without restriction, or specifically permitted ones.
These include: OptiFine, Enderman Don't Pickup Blocks, non-xray texture packs, and we'll let Dynamic Lighting slide.
If you use mods that make gameplay more difficult (e.g. Ultra Hardcore), that's your choice and it's not our fault if you can never complete the map.
If you use mods that make gameplay easier (asides from the ones mentioned above), go ahead, but you won't officially "beat" the map.
ProjectCTM combines ancient Greek mythos with a unique lore and storyline that will span across three maps. We try to tie everything together in one nice bundle of engaging CTM gameplay that doesn't rely on being completely different from the rest and brilliant viewscapes of interesting terrain and structures. At least, that's what we think we do. We apologise if an area isn't completely up to scratch, because nobody knows how to make a single area in a reasonable time apparently.
The Pantheon Series:
Map 01: Pantheon
Current version: Pantheon Epsilon v1.0 for Minecraft 1.8.x
Pantheon is a typical 19 block monument map, tinkered with by over 20 mapmakers over a year, to get the product you see before your eyes right now. 18 challenging areas await you in this map, each with some unique, some old-style reminiscing and then some that are mind-bending. You will find minimal safe points in the map, even the Monument has an entire sprawling dungeon set to kill you! With difficulty that surpasses the hardest full maps out there, it is most certainly an end-game for all CTMers, and is prepared to haunt your dreams with challenging and exciting environments, challenges, and visuals.
The noises of the angry machines roared around the two men, huddled over a small, dimly lit glass screen. Strange numbers and letters on a thin green font slipped across the screen at an incredibly rapid pace, and the men, one thin and wirey, the other more muscular. The thin man was perched upon a black rolling chair, while the other was peering heavily over his shoulder, hovering almost like a wasp. As the two men peered, the room began to feel almost... darker... as the myriad of screens spread throughout the room slowly began to click off. Neither man took their eyes from the screen; neither man made a single hint of a sound. Their eyes flew as one across the screen, absorbing in the characters, and immediately discarding what they did not need.
Then the thin man's hand whipped forward and japped his index finger, joints cracking slightly, into the screen. It froze, letters and numbers splayed across the screen. The muscular man slowly spoke, breath bated, and his voice cracked mid sentence. "Enlarge the central cores."
The screen leapt to respond, the central characters flying forward, it's green glare bathing the men's faces in a sickening glow. The two men slowly turned their heads towards the other, and spoke as if one. "The Beast has awoken."
No sooner had the words left their mouth, than that final screen flickered to black, and the noises of the hungry machines settled into a deafening silence. The room descended into darkness. A slight click filled the room, and a small flame appeared in the hands of the muscled man, holding a small flint and tinder and a torch aloft. As the noise of the click faded into nothingness, a new clicking began to approach.The door to the center slid open, and a man stepped in.
Without a word, the man's presence was terrifying. His eyes seemed to blaze in the darkness, picking up on every scrap of light and letting in burn within his retina. "Who has released the beast?" His words rung through the room, filling each and every corner and crevice before settling into nothingness again. Neither of the two men spoke. The imposing man took another step forward. "I said, who has released the beast into the facility?"
The thin man inhaled, closed his eyes, and replied. "The beast has awoken itself. It has invaded the machine. It has invaded the Nexus, my lord."
The imposing man's eyes closed briefly, before he spoke. "Come with me quickly. This section is not safe."
The two researchers scurried to attention, and followed their lord out into the claustrophobic halls. As they moved, the machines seemed to roar once more, but it sounded more natural, more primal. The beast was on the prowl, and there was naught their lord could do. They exited the maze of dark metal halls, and entered a wide, dimly lit dome. It branched into several different paths, and the thin man traced the names with his eyes as he passed. One caught his eye, per usual, as he passed, reflecting upon his face. 'Necrology'.
"Lord Tha-", he began to say, but a scream, loud, high pitched, and absolutely blood-curdling filled the halls, echoing from the depths of Necrology.
The Lord turned to the thin man. "Garfield, take Shenrin to the Mines and flee. It is no longer safe here."
Garfield gazed back at his Lord, eyes beginning to twinkle with the slightest of tears. "But what will you do?"
"I shall stand and call the others.We will need them more than ever."
"When, sir?" Shenrin growled from a position slightly behind Garfield.
"As soon as you are gone. I do not wish to harm you. Now go, and escape this place. I shall protect what is mine, and the others shall find the beast once and for all."
Garfield nodded, and motions to Shenrin. Both strode quickly to a rack, and selected a metalic sword. They strode into the darkness of one of the passages.
The man waited until his associates had faded into the darkness, and then began to speak words that twisted through the aether as if they were not words, but living beings. As he spoke, symbols began to shape in the air before him, each a color of their own. Blues and Greens and darkness and light.
"My brothers," the man spoke, as slowly the figures of fifteen other men formed in a circle around him. "The time has come. We must defend. Prepare yourselves." Then, the man in the middle smiled as his color began to form around his hand.
"For we are the Pantheon, and know not limits. Defend what is ours. Defend the wool..." Behind him, the screams began anew, and a slow half-smile twisted across the man's face.
"For our time is now."
- full 1.8 conversion! Now works in any 1.8.x version of the game
- rebalanced all areas
- added new items to most areas
- removed unnecessary teleporters in most area connectors
- shortened a few overly large areas
- swapped the locations of Dormant Mines and Flickering Isle
- removed some erroneous random loot
- added explosions
- added lots of explosions
- added loads of explosions
- tweaked lots of miscellaneous stuff to ensure the map works, including fixes of broken teleporters and chunk errors
- Hi mom!
- tweaked the starting spawners a small bit
- nerfed Virulent Grove - spawners have been modified to make moving about the area easier
- nerfed Corrupt Gatria - spawners have been modified as to not be as overpowered
- buffed Citadel of Sapphire - should be considerably more dangerous when it matters
- buffed The Flickering Isle - much much harder now, pathing changed, spawners added, danger a-plenty!
- modified Belly of the Beast - more lore, a fully fixed area now, works as it should! Also buffed in the latter half
- added new lore to Intersection 04
- removed references to the Gamma testing
- added new lore to Intersection 05 and the areas within
- added a very small 'epilogue' which we hope to expand on later
- attempted to fix some bugs with Dormant Mines
- fixed a few I1 and I2 bugs
- adjusted loot given throughout I1 and I3 to better match the difficulty
Titan's Revolt is the next entry into the ProjectCTM series. We have learnt our lessons from Pantheon and this project is way better managed and will hopefully meet expectations. You may not know some of the mapmakers, but we can assure you that all of them know what they're doing and will hopefully create the best areas for you. Still not convinced?
The lore is the best part! Or it was, until we stopped updating it because we're lazy.
Conscriptor Tepthys' Log - Entry 526
I found them. The ones before the Gods. Dylan and I have long theorized their existance, but here at last - definitive proof. On Epsilon's visit to Devorantem today we uncovered a layer of earth below the temple on the west of the desert. The twisting pathways lead us down to a damp environment covered with ice, ringed by magma, holding a cage of mysterious properties. We scouted the area for godly presences, but we found something larger, a clay colossus of impressive proportions. They looked like the gods in our literature, but something was off.
I went into the cage of obsidian, and discovered a disc sitting inside the chest upon the pedestal. I reached in and felt a ***** on my finger. Instantly, the world dissolved into nothing - into a dreamstate which remains in my mind even now.
A booming voice echoed through the room as the grand colossus spoke.
"I remember you mortals, defending us in centuries past. The Gods...the Gods...they have taken you, haven't they? What is your purpose to be in the danger of the Gods' realm, away from your safety in Greece?"
I looked around, searching for the source of the voice. A responce sprung forth in my mind, and suddenly, I found those thoughts voiced aloud. "We are Scribes aided by the gods to discover the lands that mortals cannot. We give them information at the risk of our lives, to benefit our human kind."
"Then tell, who are you?"
Communication of the Titan
These mortals have told me much about their lives. Their documenting, their scouting of dangerous lands. They have lived here for years and have not known a better, safer place. Who are we, the Titans, the protectors of Man, to leave them in this horrid realm they call 'home'? My friends, Titans in Tartarus labouring away in your unwoken minds, tortured by the chains of the Gods; you need to awake into this world once more. Listen to me, as the scribes can help us break free of our chains of death.
I was told about the four stages of scribes by the Conscriptor Tepthys. He explained them as so:
The Acolytes - The Acolytes are a trainee scribe, tought from birth to their adolescence in one of many Scribe citadels. They spend most of their days with a Conscriptor or a high ranking Scribe, learning about the world as they know it; the Gods' realm and what it contains. They are trained in combat, namely swordplay and archery. Alchemy is an art that only Conscriptors can learn, however some rogue Acolytes have been able to take control of the enchanting arts and have become corrupt and fallen into the Underworld as withering bones of what they once were. The Conscriptors keep eyes on the Acolytes at all times to make sure they do not become overwhelmed by these darkened arts.
These Acolytes, when they come of age, undertake expeditions with Scribes and Conscriptors in their divine number of nine; Two Acolytes, Six Scribes and One Conscriptor. These expeditions would be assisted by the God that could aid them most in the elements of the realm. The development of Acolytes are mostly on the field, as you would see them master the combat arts in practice against the undead, while advancing to such horrors as their Fallen brothers and the deadly Wraithshadows that had risen from the Underworld through the Devorantem's mouth. The Acolytes would soon advance to a Scribe, by either uncovering a new piece of historical significance, or assisting in a critical mission.
Some Acolytes have an unusual trait about them, being able to read complex runes from the Gods' books from early ages and passing on information that even Conscriptors did not know about. The Conscriptors think that these Acolytes are descendants of people called 'Curators' or blessed by the Gods themselves. There is so much about the world that the mortals do not know of.
The Scribes - Scribes are average mortals that regularly document information (after talking to Conscriptors) and take on missions that may take their lives to advance the research of the Scribes. They have set up stations in the Gods' realm that allow them to travel from Crete to the edge of the Spires. Each scribe has a Log that they take with them on journeys, bound by Divine magic to stay untouched in the event of death of the scribe. Books have been taken by corrupt Alchemists that have risen from the Acheron's mouth to advance their Divine research.
Many scribes do conservation work in Crete to prevent corruption of the Acolytes and to protect the books from fading after the Divine magic has worn off. These Scribes are held to a lower regard sometimes; but they live long enough to become Conscriptors.
The Conscriptors - Conscriptors are Scribes that have conserved the Overworld's artefacts and braved the Gods' realm for over 30 years, and subsequently have been nominated by a forum of their peers to undertake significant missions. These dangerous missions require a Scribe to risk their lives in the Fields of Torment, the realm of mysteries and shadows in the underworld, entered through a terrifying zone known as the Nesting Grounds. The Conscriptors can master the arts of alchemy with ease, and begin to control a substance known as Divine Dust that the corrupt monsters contain. The Divine Dust seals the Conscriptor's beaten logs that have lasted decades on end with scribbles and information that even Curators do not know.
Within the Conscriptor congregation, some were suspicious of the God's motives and their origins. Artefacts uncovered, left over from our reign on earth, had been discovered. Now they know - it seems the Gods had tried to erase our very existance from the earth.
The Conscriptors are at war with the Underworld Alchemists of Wynaria and the Sky Order, as they will not tell their knowledge to each other. Alchemists are rogue Scribes and Conscriptors that are addicted to Divine Dust, and have turned to the Underworld as sources of magic and Divine powers. Attempts at peace have resulted in chaos across the Acheron, and we now maintain minimal contact with Alchemists. Corrupt Conscriptors have turned to the Alchemists in their later years, and taken in the knowledge of the Underworld to their death. Only one entry of a Conscriptor's Log taken into the Alchemists' territory has been recovered, telling of an insane nation that talked about leading uprisings into the Gods' realm and to mass genocide the Scribe population.
The Curators - Conscriptors that have mastered Divine Dust and the reading of ancient runes undergo quests to extreme parts of the Gods' realm to ancient artifacts from before the Gods. Their energy contained within is sometimes overbearing, transforming the Conscriptor into a near-immortal being that gains a wealth of knowledge through the Divine powers of the artifacts. These Conscriptors become Curators, a master of Godly scripts, Divine powers and dark alchemy. Curators roam the lands looking for Godly presence, making minimal contact with the Cretan Scribes. Curators are able to call upon Gods to perform offers in exchange for their Divine power, depending on the offer. Curators can become weakened by asking for too many offers, leaving them vulnerable to be usurped by a Conscriptor.
However, Conscriptors can also call upon Curators in dire circumstances to work together in critical missions. This has not happened for hundreds of years though, but from what Tepthys had told me, the cost is immense.
Curators band together to create a Forum to choose Conscriptors at the start of every year. The Curators also document new information that interests them and search for more artifacts related to these events. Some Curators do not show up to these Forums; it is assumed that they are dealing with the Guardian of the Underworld to gain information about the Underworld and its secrets. One Curator has transcended into an honourary God, as the Patriarch has deemed his contributions acceptable enough for Divinity. We do not know these reasons, however, we know he has taken refuge in the Fields of Torment, waiting for a Conscriptor to meet him.
It seems that the next Forum will be about us, brothers, as the Scribes are ready to talk about us and our conflict against the Gods. The Conscriptor Tepthys will make sure that we will stay as safe as we can, however, the Conscriptor cannot save us from the few rogue Curators. The Curators are interested in artifacts related to us, and how Tepthys describes them makes me think they live a life of greed. He has described some Curators as selfless beings that advanced Scribes many years; we can only assume that these people will be our defenders when the day comes that we awake.
Conscriptor Tepthys' Log - Entry 527
When I awoke from the Dreamstate, the walls were shaking. From the flames, dark shapes were forming in the smoke. Shadowraiths were awakening - guardians of the depths of the Underworld. I remembered little of the battle in which my Scribes and I battled them, but suddenly all was calm.
A silence fell over the massive room, and two eyes seemed to tear through the air before us.
A Scribe spoke. "Conscriptor, the Devorantem has awoken." I closed my eyes and we ran.
The Conscriptor's Log, Entry 205
The sun was low when we exited the Acheron's mouth into the expanse of the Cretan valley. We walked along a path of quartz, delicately placed there by the Gods before us, and as the stones exuded warmth into our feet, we felt at home. This new land was no danger to us, the Gods had left it new, and we were prospering. The Scribes I led enjoyed soft summer breezes, and the bright sun above, warming our pale skin.
I had seen a light in the distance; other beings, civilization? We wandered across the lake to the crumbling foundations of Crete, a lonely tunnel downwards preceded by fallen pillars of quartz. We thought to ourselves that we would rebuild, and make this a safe haven from the war between the Gods and the remnants of the Titans. We worked for years, travelling ever so farther north to the homelands of the Gods and to the Doors of the Dead. In mere years, Crete was a bustling world of Acolytes, Scribes and Conscriptors alike, working together to solve the mysteries of the Titans that balanced the world before the Gods and chronicling the God's actions.
Eventually, the Scribes left Crete, to explore and brave the world's mysteries. I stayed and taught the remaining Acolytes their skills and gave them their diaries. I sent dozens of scribes away across the bridge of Crete, until there was just one group left. I wrote and wrote, about the Gods, about the Titans, about everything, over the last months of training, until there was no more to write. So I called upon a Curator.
Immediately, I sensed something different when speaking to him. His eyes were what set me off initially. Something wasn't right in this being. Holding the knowledge of the entire world could never be easy. So I begged for freedom for the Scribes. We had explored the vast edges of the Spires in the sky, the depths of the Crystal Mines, and had erected massive structures in the honor of the Gods.
We needed to know more. I knelt to the ground, and begged the Curator to bestow the ability to pursue any knowledge we sought. He thought, and offered me a deal.
All he asked for was a single Acolyte. In exchange, he would grant those of us still on Crete, immunity to harm from the world. We could safely brave the fires in the depths of the Devorantem, we could live through the harsh weather of the Flickering Isle, and fly on the gusts of wind of the Spires with ease. I accepted his deal.
The Curator smiled, and told me he would return in a week to collect his payment, and to... as he said... "Archive" us. I left me unsettled, but I shrugged it off. Curators were to be trusted - they knew all. I spoke to the remaining Acolytes, and finally selected a bright Acolyte. He told me of his plans and his journeys, his hopes, his dreams, his goals. And when a week was up, the Curator returned as he said.
The Curator knelt before the Acolyte, and sighed softly. The boy looked down at the kneeling man, confused at his actions. Then his skin turned red, as blood slowly oozed from every pore on the boy's body. I gasped, and stepped forward to stop this madness, but I found myself unable to move. "This will not last," the Curator said, slowly. "You will not lose this one. I simply need the blood." The Curator raised a single hand, and the blood stopped - and vanished.
"I promised you the freedom to explore the unknown," the Curator said. "To do this, you will be sent to the Underworld. You cannot be harmed in the depths. The other Scribes will not be harmed. They may contact you at this site where Crete once stood. But you can never leave. Do you still accept my deal?"
I took a moment, and inhaled. The freedom to explore the Underworld. To settle the realm of the dead, as a living being. I looked at the Scribes under my tutelage around me. And I nodded. With a violent blink, the sky above changed, my muscles screamed, and the Curator was gone. We stood in the Underworld, and blinked. So much to explore...
And explore we did. From the mountains of Sisyphus, to the memories of the River Lethe, from the screeches of the Hive, to the edges of Tartarus, we saw all.
But we never did hear from the other Scribes...
Revolt of Titans
The shadows in the depths tightened. Constricting suddenly, with the force of a thousand gales, the tiniest of sources light drained from the cavern, and blackness awoke. Chains, made from etherial shade hung from dark iron mounts on the walls - shattered by the Scribes - and within this stygian twilight, the Titans awoke. Within the gloom, seventeen eyes awoke, blinked twice, and vanished.
Blind Aegon screamed. Chained to the Obsidian watch-stone, the immortal Scribe felt the awakening and the whispers from the fallen scribes in the aether around him overwhelmed his psyche. They howled as if their lives were again severed from their bodies, six words: "The Titans awake, the Gods fall". Blind Aegon's throat began to ache, as his voice wore to nothing. The warning had been sounded. The Scribes - bar himself and some faceless acolyte - were dead. Blind Aegon knew it was well deserved - the Gods had become tyrants, and they needed to fall. But he had disagreed with the method - awakening the Titans. Clearly, the Acolyte had succeeded where the others had failed. By offering their own hearts to the Gods, the Titans awoke.
Blind Aegon knew nothing but darkness, but even the Titan's presence had given him solace. Barbaric creatures of the depths of the underworld itself, the Titans were elemental forces that came into existance long before the Gods. Brutal and quick to anger, they would seek the fall of the Gods. But Blind Aegon knew the way to stop them. He did not want the fall of the Gods - nor the fall of the Titans. Blind Aegon wanted the freedom of the world from any divine interference. He would speak to the Acolyte, and show him the truth of the world itself. The secrets of the Underworld - freedom.
The Monument to the Gods shone briefly, as the whispers faded from the Acolyte's mind. The Gods were appeased, and the Titans were awake. The Acolyte had succeeded, where all the other Scribes had failed - the world could perhaps be safe now.
Then the ceiling collapsed. Chunks of golden earth rained down, as dust filled the Acolyte's vision.
Seventeen dark figures descended from the shattering rooftop, landing in a circle around the Acolyte. A darkened dome shimmered into existance around the Acolyte, protecting them from the shattering Monument. The Titans had arrived. Dark voices invaded his head.
"Show us the way to the Gods, Scribe." The Acolyte quaked - the very prescence of these figures, ancient and unknown - he found he could not speak. "SPEAK!", one roared, its face contorting into rage. The Acolyte inhaled deeply, looked up at the Titan, and spoke: "I do not know."
"Then die," the dark creature howled, and seventeen fists descended onto the Acolyte. He braced for the impacted, and accepted death willingly.
"Hello, Scribe," a tired voice said. The Acolyte looked around in confusion. Before him stood two men. One, old and wizened, was chained to a rock as dark as night. The other was tall, wearing blue, and had golden eyes that seemed to stare through the Acolyte. "You may call me Blind Aegon," said the chained man. "This is the Curator." The Acolyte gasped, as he recognized the name.
"You're one of the Gods," he said.
The Curator smiled slightly. "You could say that. I consider myself something else though. I am not God, nor am I a Titan. I am the Curator. Now that you have woken the Titans, a war has started, Scribe. You're going to fight in it."
"Aegon and I have spoken. You will be our conduit in this war. We will be sending you to the Underworld, where the source of the Titan's powers rest. You will gather them, and take them to the birthplace of the gods. Then the war will truly begin." The Curator smiled slightly again, and a chill ran down the Acolyte's spine. "Purge the world..." the Curator whispered.
"What will this do though?" The Acolyte asked. "I was lied to before, why should I believe you now?"
The Curator chuckled softly. "You may just have to trust us, Scribe. Good luck." The God waved his had, and the Acolyte died. The world below grasped as his mind and his soul, shadows surrounding him, and pulling him into the depths itself. The Underworld beckoned.
Blind Aegon and the Curator sat in silence for several moments, before the Curator spoke. "Call the Titans. We will fight with them." Aegon nodded, and the Curator reached out and touched the old man's chains. They shattered, and the pieces slowly were absorbed into the Curator's skin. He fell to the ground briefly, before struggling to his feet. "Thank you, Curator", Aegon said, but the God was already gone.
The Revolt had begun.
Full list of Titans and Scribes alike:
Kaladun - Titan of the Fauna
Mistagrinch - The Boatman
McWeaksauce - Titan of the Scarred
Fangride - Titans of the Aesthergales
Hybran - Titan of Bearing With These Lazy Scrubs For Two Years
TheXhen - Titan of the Depths
Krose - Titan of the Forest
Blade933 - Titan of the Mirage
bRanN - Titan of Ascension
The_Sketch - Titan of the Hailstorm
Ragirk - Titan of the Swamp
TikaroHD - Titan of the Underworld
LULZ180 - Titan of the Ages
Tachneide - The Fallen God
Browneye - Titan of the North Wind
ElRichMC - Titan of the Aesthergale
KillerCreeper33 - Titan of Galemetals
Draco_Rogue - Titan of the West Wind
Drago - Titan of the Shadows
Xethyros - The Chained
Rockenroll4life - Titan of the Sky
Csillagvihar - Titan of the Flames
WallcraftMC - Titan of the Core
Look, we know (or at least hope) you're not stupid. So don't do anything stupid. If you need further instruction, it drills down to this:
- Feel free to create media, e.g. YouTube videos, share them with people, and monetize them with ads. If you make a Let's Play, we might even give you a bonus cookie, because they help us out. - We give you these maps, and nothing else. If you break your monitor or your arm or anything else as a result of playing these maps, it's not on us. - Don't distribute these maps without our permission. If you try to make money off your unauthorized distribution, we'll find you, and we'll drop you. (We don't even make money off of our own distribution.) - These maps are copyrighted, owner ProjectCTM (which represents 30+ people), so don't claim you made it when you didn't.
Just a friendly reminder that we hate you and wish you many a bountiful servings of pain and death. Good luck!