We toll for thee
I should be further in than this.
My supposed rebellion has thus far eked out a territory that could be described as “where?”.
My personal reputation is great only among people who love mushrooms and hate deer.
And I’m not one of them.
You might be very interested in one or two elements but hate the others.
Or I may make it sound like it’s spreading itself too thin.
What I didn’t appreciate is that it’s about management above all.
I don’t mean “you’ll be in menus a lot”.
It’s about why management exists: not for its own sake, but to serve an end.
That end could be selling goods, or maintaining and distributing student records to where they’re needed.
Or liberating the land by killing all the baddies, sure.
In Bellwright, see, your people aren’t a warband who follow you everywhere.
You will get a warband, but that’s just one department.
These vary but commonly involve postal work or sourcing items.
I failed to do enough of this companion thing for a long time, which was my first mistake.
I like exploring and foraging, and having people standing around awkwardly watching me felt weird.
It seemed better to set them to non-violent pursuits.
Each recruit has several combat skills, but also worker skills that are improved through use.
Everyone can work, fight, or switch as needed (same, etc.
It’s the workers that are key, though.
That’s the common fantasy of survival games, right?
Chopping trees is enjoyable here, and there’s some decent hunting too.
All this led me into wandering, hunting, gathering, personally keeping my people fed.
I knew, intellectually.
But I was enjoying myself.
But Bellwright isn’t a survival game, or a building, or combat game.
It’s all of those things integrated into a village management game.
And I was failing my village.
I was frequently fiddling with things on the surface.
I was fighting fires because of my poor planning and organisation.
My people were failing because I wasn’t using them right.
Sure, I’d adjusted their Rimworld-like job priorities system.
I’d seen a logging camp grow from an attractive little hideaway to a kind of bleak stump-ridden no-forest.
But I’d placed things by whim, forgetting that people had to work there.
We all know logistics and economic management win the war, but I’d still failed to heed it.
I was swayed by a world that invited exploration, and my people suffered.
On the plus side, as a manager in Bellwright your people are very pliant.
But still I should have been better.
I would never be great, but I should have learned from the example right before me.
A better manager than me would have set these people up with what they need to begin with.
She’d have been seen emailing prospective contributors with gentle critique of their pitches.
Shed have helped me get the treatment thats kind of saving my life.
I am, I think, still playing Bellwright wrong.
I can’t help it.
It’s a bit wobbly in parts.
Combat is a little under-responsive, and tactical maneouvering limited to rather flailing scrums.
But I like Bellwright a lot.
With an estimated 3 years of early access ahead, this could become an incredibly absorbing game.
You gotta organise some people.
A good warlord or general is a good manager first, and good managers are rare and precious.
We’ve all had bad managers.
My people know all too well the woe that they can bring.
