To honor the one decade since the founding of our studio, we’ve prepared an amazing Sale at the Stoic.store for you for three days only (January 14 – 16, 2022)!

• 80% Site-Wide SALE on Banner Saga items!
• NEW: Discounted 3-Poster Bundles (also 80% off for 3 days only).
• *FREE* Bellower and Stonesinger miniature collectable with any non-poster, -book or -vinyl purchase (while supplies last)!

Click here to head to the Stoic.store and check out all the Banner Saga goods, now!

As well, all Banner Saga games are 80% off on Steam!

Click here to head to the Banner Saga Steam Sale!

If you’re reading this, chances are you’ve played one or more of the Banner Saga trilogy of games, and we want to thank you.

Thank you to everyone who backed the first game, 10 years ago on Kickstarter and helped begin the incredible journey for Stoic. We could not have done it without your trust and faith in us!

Thank you to everyone who bought the game when it launched and gave the small but mighty indie game a shot. You helped make us a success in a space where fewer than 9% of indie games ever make a profit!

Thank you to everyone who stayed with the series through Banner Saga 2,and played Banner Saga 3. You proved that a compelling story and a promise to complete the saga had value for gamers.

And thank you to all the community members who continue to support new players and the ever-expanding Stoic Team. While we can’t tell you what we’re currently developing, we know you’re going to love it and we’re grateful you’re here for the ride!

Have an incredible, safe and happy 2022.

Come reminisce about The Banner Saga: Factions at http://Twitch.tv/stoicstudio with:

John Watson, Technical Director and Founder

Arnie Jorgensen, Chief Creative Officer and Founder

Alex Thomas, Principal World Designer

Zeb West, Creative Director

Matt Rhoades, Design Director

We hope to see you there!

Those of you who have been with us for the entire journey know how important and formative Factions has been to the development of combat gameplay in the Banner Saga.  We look forward to returning to such times in the future, with new games, and new experiences to share with you.

One of the backend services we rely on for Factions is being retired and we currently do not have the time or resources to update the game. Factions had a good run and we truly appreciate all the bannerfolk who spent time there! 

We want to give special thanks to our Conclave members and two in particular, stoicmom and spicykorean for maintaining and encouraging the Factions community during the past few years! 

To all who played – thank you for keeping the banner waving all this time.

Please make sure you follow @BannerSaga on our social media channels for upcoming news and events. 

To chat about this news or any other Banner Saga news, we encourage you to join our discord channel, here: https://discord.gg/bannersaga

Skál!

Buy selected physical items and receive a Stonesinger miniature as a free bonus with your order. While supplies last, of course. This offer will be available from July 1, 2020 to August 31, 2020.

Stonesinger will ship with any of the following items:

– Apparel

– Glassware

– The Cloth Map

– Warbands Miniature – Bellower

The appearance of a Stonesinger upon the battlefield is a cause for great terror and alarm. These foes wield powerful magic, channeling the dark energy with their spear-like weapons which seem to function almost like tuning forks. Stonesinger strikes are known to spread a deadly disease to humans and varl, and they have exhibited the ability to explode the armor of other dredge units, sacrificing them and causing massive shrapnel damage to nearby enemies.

The Stonesinger miniature stands 2 3/4″ tall and may be painted.

John: 6 years ago, Banner Saga was released on Steam. It launched on the tail end of more than 2 years of the hardest work we had ever done.

Arnie: Of the two tough years the second and final year was the toughest. It was basically a ‘crunch mode’ for an entire year. I went through long stretches of waking up at 5:00am, working a few hours, then going in to work with the other guys until 12:00pm. Weekends meant I could get more done because I didn’t have to commute in and back from the office and I worked later into the night.

Alex: It was an intense time. We were doing everything ourselves, from gameplay development, to running a kickstarter, community management and operating a business. On top of that, we were trying to make a game that felt like a big Bioware-level production with story, multiple systems, dozens of characters and classes – with only three full-time developers.

John: We had largely finished it before the Solstice holiday, and upon return to our development shack spend the next 2 weeks preparing for launch: setting up promotional materials, Steam configurations, final rounds of testing and a few more little bugfixes.  We were relieved to see that players received it well and it sold strongly.

Arnie: Haha… we did all our own customer service. I remember listening to John say “Yes. Yes thanks for the feedback. Nope, I’m John Watson, I’m working on it right now actually. Yes – really.” We did our damn best to handle all the bugs, feedback and login snafu’s that players were having.

John: Within a few days we had broken even on the previous 2 years’ investment, which was good because all 3 of us were deep in financial holes (I had $50k of credit card debt), had spent our life savings, and we owed 2 of our contractors quite a bit of money for work done in good faith during the Banner Saga: Factions days.

Arnie: There is something oddly freeing about betting your entire life savings and then some. It’s kinda like burning a bridge and there’s only one way to go, forward. I found it energizing in its focus.

John: Right about that time, a legal challenge from King over the trademark of ‘Banner Saga‘ came to a head.  For over 6 months, we had been blocked from trademarking the name of the game.  King made the offer to own the trademark, but ‘let us use it’. Uh, no. It ended up working out well, King treated us properly, and no hard feelings resulted.

Arnie: I think the King debacle actually helped with sales. In Europe people knew us more for that than Banner Saga.

Alex: Launching that first game was an absolute test of willpower. Health-wise I was spent. I had to take a much longer break than Arnie and John, and by then they had moved onto the second game in the trilogy.

John: We were totally exhausted, and all took much needed breaks.  I went to Europe for a few weeks and did some other traveling.  But before long we were back at it, localizing the game and porting to mobile, and then console.

Alex: I filled the time with a side-project, then heard that the third game was having trouble early in development. They needed a writer. There were so many concepts and plot threads to try and pull into a final, satisfying package, it was a tremendous challenge. That said, I was incredibly thankful to be able to come back and finish the third game and the story that I had set out to write back when it was just a gleam in our eyes to make our own game.

John: Over 4 more years of work, and we had finished the whole trilogy and released the final DLCs that we had sketched out in our original Kickstarter – 7 years in all from inception to completion.

Alex: Seven years after we first set out in metaphorical longships to create our own game dev studio, we’ve seen other developers come and go. We’ve seen the coming of the “indie apocalypse” and felt how hard it is to make a living doing your own games. And we’re still here and going strong! Stoic’s continuing to grow bigger than it’s ever been before, and we’re wading heavily into a new project with new ambitions and aspirations. We can’t wait to be able to talk more about it soon and we hope you’ll come along with us to a new world, with new stories to tell in a new game.

Why did you choose to work in game development?

I probably heard someone say, “Do what you love” and it was this or design and build drones for the military, since I use to love putting bottle rockets on R/C planes and fire them remotely. Considering how drones have been/are being used I’m very happy with my choice.

What part of your role do you enjoy the most?

When others play with a feature I’ve built and I get to see how much they enjoy it. It’s the best feeling.

What inspires you?

Naps and breaks. I’m completely serious. There’s nothing that motivates me more than being away from a troubling and complicated task. The longer I have to spend away from a problem, the stronger my desire to return to it and solve it.

What is your favorite videogame genre?

I don’t have any favorites that are still my go to today, as my tastes and preferences change over time. I tend to obsess over a few games for a few years and then move onto something else. My most recent obsessions are Factorio and Overwatch.

What would you be doing if you couldn’t make video games for a living?

I took a step out of the game industry for a few years and did UX design (specifically interaction design), I might go back to that or I might do something else like woodworking or prop making.

If you could give some advice to someone who wants to work in this industry / do what you do, what would it be?

The entire computer industry is going to try and get you to work as many hours as they can. It’s hard, but you’re going to need to figure out how to resist that and take time away from work and do other things. The best people I know in this industry spend a serious amount of time away from work doing things not related to their day job. You need time away from work to allow inspiration to happen.

If you had a superpower, what would it be and how would you use it?

When I was a child I wanted to fly and rescue people from buildings and now I want to stop the world from being on fire or maybe end gerrymandering and increase voter participation.

Why did you choose to work in game development?

The chain events started with my mom taking me to a comic book shop and my dad taking me to the movies all the time.

What part of your role do you enjoy the most?

Being lead on character design and fleshing out the world.

What inspires you?

A love of storytelling.

What is your favorite videogame genre?

I don’t have a specific genre, but Age of Empires II, Pokemon Gold, Marvel vs Capcom, NBA Street V2, Metal Gear Solid, Soulcalibur, Journey, Fez, Halo, BOTW, Fire Emblem. They’ve all got a good combination of visual design and storytelling/world building element that I reference.

What moment or memory from a game do you have that has had the greatest impact on you?

Journey, sand surfing during the sunset with Austin Wintory’s music.

What would you be doing if you couldn’t make video games for a living?

Professional Basketball player most likely.

If you could give some advice to someone who wants to work in this industry / do what you do, what would it be?

Keep in mind what is in your control. Work hard and stay away from people and things that make you feel bad, you’ll have your ups and downs on your own, no need to let outside factors make it worse. Formulate your personal tastes so you know who to study.

If you had a superpower, what would it be and how would you use it?

Silver Surfer’s powers, explore the universe.

Any favorite YouTube channels you want to recommend?

Every Frame a Painting

By James Fadeley

“—ou kendrless cur! Sooner cut your own horn off to blow for your tiny friends than side with your own kind!”

“I wouldn’t be talking about friends right now, Nefr. Seeing as you don’t have any,” Hund replied, shoving the unruly varl into the largest gaol cell. The iron door handle was chilling to touch, even for the giant, yet the satisfying slam and thunk of the lock bar warmed the cockles of Hund’s heart. “If you be quiet, I’ll have the gaoler get you some water. Else you can dry out on your own.”

“Faen you, watch dog!”

Hund sighed at the prisoner’s needless obstinance and walked towards the exit, passing a few beams of morning light peeking from apertures carved into the stone walls. He moved slowly, studying the passage and reflecting on his contributions to the architecture. How the height was just enough that a varl didn’t have to bow his horned head, how there was even a couple of rooms large enough for his kind.

I could do so much better now, he thought. I’ve learned and practiced so much since then. He couldn’t help but feel some shame for his inexperienced handiwork all those decades ago. Or was it more than a century now? Hund frowned, struggling to remember. The long lives of varl turned memories into labyrinths of time.

Nefr began to ramble and howl at him, his words so slurred that only their hostility could be felt, not their meaning. Hund didn’t spare him a second look, stepping out of the prisoners’ hallway and shutting the door. The litany of drunken curses was lost behind a barrier of wood, leather and wool designed to muffle the gaol’s most vocal occupants. Hund marveled at the ingenuity of the design. That must be made by a man. Gods be good, why didn’t I think of that…

“You’re up early,” someone said.

Hund spun around, then nodded to the speaker. The human was getting on in age, his hair and long mustache a mix of grey and brown. In the embers of the nearby fire, his wizened eyes sparkled with wisdom and intellect. “Sorry if I woke you, Sigketill.”

“Nah. I was up ages ago. Don’t sleep much anyway.” He hunched down to place a log into the fire pit built into the wall between two rooms, and stirred it back to life. Hund stared at the flames, remembering long ago when he was on his back, carefully chiseling the rock inside the wall. The hole that rose up formed a stack chimney through the hill, providing ventilation which allowed smoke to escape. It was a technique that Hund had learned long ago in Grofheim, as the giants much preferred stone homes that would live as long as their occupants.

“So, who is our customer today?” Sigketill asked.

“Nefr. Again. Drunken argument at The Caroling Giant that turned into a fist fight. The hall owner banned him this time.” Hund unslung the sheathed greatsword over his back. “Glad he didn’t use this or I’d never have gotten him out alive.”

“No offense Hund, but you bring me the lousiest Yuletide gifts.”

Hund threw his head back and laughed, his mirth echoing in the cavernous gaol.

Sigketill’s thick mustache hid his amused grin, and he turned towards another door. “Follow me.”

Hund dipped his horns to fit through the entrance of Sigketill’s quarters, warmed by the opposite side of the firepit. Some seasonal fruits dried on a board next to the heat, while finished batches hung from garlands nailed to the wall. Across the room, a shutter was open, letting in a beam of sunlight that struck an opaque stone on a table, illuminating the chamber with a candle-like glow. Hund marveled at the sunstone. Such “diffusing” types were exceedingly rare. The varl knelt down to examine the carved, glowing rock, realizing that the utter smoothness of the surface was perfect. Not something that could be wrought by the hands of men nor varl…

“Where did you get this?” Hund asked.

“Gift from the Governor a couple of years back, but I don’t know where he got it. I think… it may have come from our other ‘friends’ in the north.”

Hund smiled faintly. The gaoler was no fool, and that was undoubtedly why the varl liked him.

From a carved shelf in the wall, Sigketill withdrew a small book and carefully set it on the table nearby. In the sunstone’s light, he slowly flipped pages until he found what he sought. “Let’s see… yes. Nefr was a guest in our humble lodgings almost a month ago. Charges included a fight with another varl and smashing a merchant’s stall. He was drunk then, too.”

“I remember. The varl turned out to be the merchant’s guard, so only Nefr was taken in.”

Sigketill flipped through further pages until arriving at a list of names, dates and crimes that didn’t reach the bottom. He reached for a quill on the table’s corner, dabbing it in its vial a few times before adding Nefr’s fresh charges to the paper. “Well. That’s the second foul up for our good friend.”

Hund shook his head sadly. Had Nefr committed anything more serious then he would have been banished immediately. As it was, Strand’s patience was at an end. One more arrest meant kicking Nefr out of the city and seizing his property. It wouldn’t be a duty Hund relished.

“I don’t suppose he had any coins for his fine?”

“The barkeep insisted on collecting what little he had to pay for the damages,” Hund replied.

Sigketill sighed, the ends of his mustache streaming like a banner in the wind. “Well… I guess we’ll feed him out of kindness and seasonal cheer.”

“Maybe have him work for it?” Hund offered. “Haul somethings around perhaps. He’s as strong as a yox though twice as stubborn.”

“Hmmm. Maybe. Or maybe we could sell that.” Sigketill gestured to the weapon the varl held.

“That won’t go over well.” Hund placed the greatsword against the wall. “He’ll turn into a lunatic if you do. He loves that sword.”

“Alright, but if we have to arrest him again, we will take it for good.” Sigketill let the book sit for a while, the ink drying. “Since you’re here, got time for another game?”

“I think I could manage it.” A smile spread across Hund’s face as he saw his chance. With no seats his size, he sat on the floor beside the table. “Ready to lose again?”

Sigketill chuckled as he drew a bag and a panel of wood from the shelf. The board bore a beautifully engraving of ships on the edges, and a carefully aligned grid. Hund had once asked Sigketill who had carved it, but the gaoler did not know. From the bag came several black pieces shaped as men, and larger white pieces with shields carved in the bodies. Varl.

“Such a sad looking king,” Hund commented, as the final piece was set. Placed in the center, the king was cracked along the top, the crown gone. With a grin, Hund reached into his pouch and withdrew something, gingerly planting it before Sigketill. “Merry Yuletide.”

The gaoler laughed and gently lifted the newly carved king piece. It was made of whale bone, regal and stern faced with a mighty set of horns instead of a crown. “When did you have time to make this?”

Hund shrugged. “Here and there. Took patience.”

“I never understood why you bothered to join the City Watch when you could be rich as an artisan. This is truly something beautiful.”

Hund smiled sadly. He was the only of his kind officially in the watch, a fact that earned him much disrespect. “I could do so, making beautiful things that would outlive my kind. But you know, too many varl dwell on a bleak future or a glorious past. Not enough focus on the problems at hand. I want them to wake up, pay attention. Be mindful. And sometimes that means pulling a few horned heads out of their arses…”

“Now that is an image I did not need.”

The two friends burst into a guffaw that lasted a long minute. Despite his loneliness, Hund did feel better. When they settled, Sigketill reached beneath the table, pulling out a large clay pot he set before Hund.

“What’s this?” The varl removed the lid, his brows rising in surprise at the golden liquid inside. “Good gods! How many skeps did you destroy to get this much?

There was a mischievous twinkle in Sigketill’s gaze as he smiled. “None.”

Hund’s brow rose. Often, cultivating honey meant drowning or smoking out the bees from the skep basket, killing the colony. “How?”

“Let’s just say I have my ways and leave it at that. Maybe I’ll write them down and share it with you when I’m dead. But since you clearly made the better gift, why don’t you choose who goes first?”

“Ha. I’ll be the varl then.”

They set up the board. The white varl pieces stood in the center around the king, and after a moment of deliberation, Sigketill decided to align the black human pieces along the edges rather than the corners. Then they began.

With the king totally surrounded by his guards, Hund’s first turn was to move a varl out of the lord’s way. He carefully turned the piece’s shield towards the nearest group of humans. If two black pieces surrounded a varl on the unshielded sides, it would be taken. The possibility of that was quite real as Sigketill had a larger, more mobile force in every direction. The gaoler moved two human pieces towards the king, one of which stopped at the recently-moved varl’s flank. Hund moved another varl diagonally, taking the flanking human and creating a shield wall; a vital defensive maneuver.

But it was not about defeating the enemy force. Indeed, fighting was a losing strategy, as tafl was about escaping to fight another day.

The board became a complex formation as the other groups of men were moved to surround the king’s varl, cutting them off from the exit point corners. Hund paused and thought carefully over any sacrifices, such exchanges inevitably favoring Sigketill. He was glad they elected not to allow reinforcements, which would have permitted the gaoler to return captured men to the board each time a varl was taken. Oh, how I loathe that rule, Hund thought. As if I need to be reminded of men’s fruitfulness.

“Can I ask you something?” Sigketill asked.

Hund narrowed one eye, suspecting the gaoler of trying to distract him.

“Do varl have any stories about Yuletide? We tell a few to our children, but they never sound too realistic. I’ve always been curious about how it started, but man is notoriously bad at record keeping.”

Hund cracked a smile as he moved another varl forward, capturing a black piece. “Well, there’s one. It’s more historical than a myth for us though. A kind of lesson.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Sigketill made no captures, but moved more humans into position to block escape. “Were you there during it?”

“Me? Nah. I met a few varl who were though, old timers. Veterans of the First Great War, during the final days, not long before it ended.”

Sigketill leaned back in his seat, the leather shuffling. They were both content to pause the game, to reflect on their forthcoming decisions. Sigketill’s forces almost blocked Hund, who would have to fight his way through. A single mistake would unravel the shield wall and doom his king. A break from the tension was welcome.

“It started with a winter storm. A bad one, one where the clouds hid the sun for days while the snow fell almost unceasingly. Sometimes it fell hard, sometimes softly, and any breaks felt like the clouds were only drawing a breath before continuing. It was during this wretched time that a varl leader named Jolnir led his warband south. Jolnir and his varl were tired and hungry. Tired of the war, tired of the endless raiding. The chill of the wind was bad enough that even the biggest kiln-kin felt the ice in their very bones. Some even wondered if the world was ending. If the gods had turned their back on them. If the sun had died forever and left them to be buried in tombs of snow and ice. But more than anything, Jolnir missed the laughter. The mirth he enjoyed with his fellow varl, over warm meals and good drinks. He cherished those simple joys that eased the burden of living, having forgotten or lost his reasons for warring long ago.

“During their venture, one of Jolnir’s scouts came back with a prisoner. It was a man, a forager who had been scrounging for food or firewood. Jolnir’s warband, also hungering, first thought to have the man lead them back to his village, so that they may raid and plunder what they could. But Jolnir looked at the starving forager and knew they had little, or else he would not have ventured into this storm. The leader bade his warband to wait, and he went with the man to his village.

“When Jolnir returned, he brought with him several huntsmen. The men knew the land, the woods and where to find game. They feared betrayal, but Jolnir had each of his varl give oaths not to attack the men, striking a truce. Together, they journeyed into the snowcapped forests to begin their task. At first, they found little, until Jolnir plucked several holly plants and bundled them together, their berries bright red against the green. Popping one of the berries, the men and varl hid as deer and other game sought the bait. They repeated this trick again and again, relocating to escape the strong smell of blood. And by the end of the joint hunt, they gathered almost more than they could carry.

“But their return was not without perils. Before they left the forest, they were assailed by armed bandits, ravenous for their prized game. Jolnir’s varl formed a shield wall while the huntsmen fought with bows and boar spears. Before long, the bandits were routed, and not a member of Jolnir’s comrades had died.

“Still, troubles dogged them as they left the forest. For they came upon another small raiding party of varl. ‘Kiln-brother,’ said their leader to Jolnir. ‘My varl starve, and you depart the forest with meat enough to sate even the Winter Bird. Let us take the human’s share and leave them to their fate.’

“Yet Jolnir refused. ‘I shall not turn my back on these huntsmen, for they have shared in the hunt and in battle. I will share our spoils with you as fellow children of Hadrborg. But theirs is their own, as my varl and I have pledged that they would live to see the sun reborn, for peace begins with a kept oath.’

“The raiders were enraged. They called Jolnir and his varl traitors as they attacked, shields and horns slamming together. Once again, Jolnir’s band stuck together and fought as one. Soon, the hunters were victorious as the enemy varl retreated, weapons slick with the blood of giants and men alike. Jolnir’s beautiful white fur coat was crimson with their grim but honest deeds. And the party returned to the village as welcome heroes, the storm miraculously ending with their arrival.

“The humans welcomed them back by preparing a feast. Word spread of Jolnir’s honesty, and every home in the village offered him a drink out of respect. And the more he drank, the more jovial he and his varl became, reminded of the value of life. Finally, Jolnir offered the village a toast and pledged he and his varl would never again attack the holdings of men.

“Then one of the wives of the huntsmen came forward. ‘But how will varl and men get along?’ To prove her point, she gestured to a young calf, a kendr of one of Jolnir’s varl, who was roughhousing with one of the village’s boys. Jolnir scratched his beard thoughtfully, then smiled. He took the bones from the feast, cleaned them and carved toys and game pieces. From these came the first tafl sets, for men and giant meet on the board as equals, the mind being as important as any other muscle.

“The night before Jolnir’s band left however, it was said he had a dream. He saw a beautiful woman beside a grand loom. When he approached, she smiled at him, the radiance of her joy blinding. And while his eyes were shut, he was stunned as he somehow felt a warm, gentle kiss upon his forehead, as though she were taller than he! When Jolnir woke, his fur coat was changed. The blood was gone, replaced with a crimson hue and a trim of pure white, while well-stitched gloves and boots awaited him, perfectly suited for his size. And when Jolnir went out to thank the villagers for their wondrous gift, they were confused… for none of them came forward to claim they had sewn it. Before he left, Jolnir took the crown of holly he made for the hunt and put it upon his head. Then, wishing the village peace, he and his varl began their journey back north… the clouds parting at last, and the warm sun shining upon their path.”

Silence fell, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Sigketill stared at Hund, his mustache twitching in deep thought before finally speaking. “What became of him?”

“I don’t know, and I doubt anyone who claims they do. I heard a rumor once that Jolnir’s real name was Karl. Others are adamant that Karl was Jolnir’s kendr, and that the rest of his warband were among the first to advocate the end of the war.”

“He certainly sounds familiar, this Jolnir. Sometimes, we tell our kids of the Yule Father.”

Hund tilted his head. “Go on.”

“Hmm? Well, there’s not much to tell really.” Sigketill grinned bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “It is usually a story some of us tell our kids to keep them on their best behavior, with promises of gifts if they do.”

Hund stared at him a long moment before finally snickering. “Let me guess. This ‘Yule Father’… big fellow, red fur coat, gives lots of toys and games. Uses a walking stick that might have once been a spear…”

Sigketill seemed reluctant to speak. “Possibly.”

“Sounds to me like your lot might have kept the parts you liked best. Tell me, does your ‘Yule Father’ have holly-clad horns?”

“I don’t recollect such a detail,” Sigketill admitted, chuckling.

The varl laughed. “What is with men that you always want to see varl as your big, helpful friends or benevolent folk? You are enamored with the idea, staring at us with the awe your children reserve for you. Like we’ll go out on a tree limb to save you anytime you find yourselves in trouble.”

“What? You don’t like being the heroes of your own sagas?”

“Faen no. Jolnir wasn’t some skipping human lover who rewarded them for ‘good’ behavior. He was a warrior who lost his taste for raiding, used his ingenuity to feed his varl as well as a village, and get kids and calves to play with each other. But every deed done was so he could remember what life was like outside of war. Hunting, eating and drinking, games… he needed to remember what joy was.”

The friends were quiet a long, faintly tense moment. And a little voice in Hund spoke, reminding him. Just like you. You joined the City Watch for yourself, because enforcing the law was the only way you could respect yourself and your kind. Because you hated to see them squander their gift.

The truth stung. Hund had been there the day the bridge of Einartoft was finished. How the varl had celebrated, but little else. Never once during the festivities did they ask what they would build next. Never did they look at their calloused palms and dare to dream beyond that moment, content in their complacency. Only the Pathlayer, the bridge’s architect, shared in Hund’s disappointment, a sympathetic hand on the younger varl’s shoulder. “Such is our immortal lament, Hundr. How we waste our true blessing… time.”

At least I met one varl who understood my sorrow, Hund thought as he remembered the Pathlayer. Here were the varl, longer lived than perhaps even the gods… wasting away in drink and pursuing money, debasing themselves, fighting, grumbling and staring at the snow. And perhaps Hund had hoped that enforcing the law might wake some up to the idea of doing more with themselves, of carving their name into something worthy of history’s marvel, just as Jolnir had. How simple an idea. Simple, and futile.

Hund shook his head, shaking off his morose thoughts before finally indicating the board. “And I need to remember what joy truly is… seeing you weep when I beat you again.”

Sigketill barked a laugh. “It’s on now!”

“After you.”

What happened next was a series of rapid maneuvers as the varl pieces crashed through the human line. Other black pieces were brought up to surround and capture the aggressive white ones. The situation was going Sigketill’s way until Hund moved the king up, slaying another human and clearing a path.

The gaoler studied the board intensely, and Hund smiled. Even moving a single human two spaces, the king was still a varl, and would capture any lone black piece. They both knew Sigketill could not shore up his forces fast enough, and at last he folded. “Looks like you got away again.”

“It was a good game. Let me give you a hint though. Even if you brought up that group there more, I’d simply have gone the other way. You need to be patient and stall me more.”

“I’ll catch you next time then,” Sigketill said, giving him a stern eye.

Hund returned the glare, his brows slanted with his own earnestness. The two stared each other down until the varl’s sight stung horribly, and he finally blinked hard. “Bah!”

“Hah!”

“Ah faen you,” Hund said as he stood, grinning as he scooped up the jar. “Have fun with Nefr, I’ve got fish to fry and honey to enjoy.”

“Not together, I hope. Merry Yuletide, Hund.”

“Likewise, Sig.”

Stepping out of Sigketill’s quarters, Hund pushed through another door, finding his way to the windy outside. The rising path before him was dusted white, and the varl followed it around the hill until he stood beside the Great Hall.

He walked slowly, trying to work off the numbing sensation in his hip, but also enjoying the view. In the distance, beyond the Right Foot of Denglr’s Bay stood impressive mountains. Hund frowned, trying to remember if they were ever given a name. To the west, across the bay and upon a peak of the Long Reach Mountains stood the tower of Ridgehorn. The tower’s impressive shadow turned the snow beneath it blue.

And below stood Strand, with its many stone watchtowers and landings, the many neighborhoods of huts. The more affluent stood atop the rising ridge to the west, while the “earthlier” farmers and loggers occupied the groupings of huts both below the ridge and even the slopes across the water. White was everywhere, upon every roof, every landing. Yellow flags fluttered against the eastern winds, as a scattering of flurries heralded more snow to come.

Rounding the hill, the Great Hall itself was a sight to behold. Sprigs of mistletoe wrapped with red berries hung from beams. Wreaths of holly adorned the gates, sticks pointing outward from the center as if the decorations were each a small, leafy sun. A young watchman with dark features ran down the stairs from the gate, wrapping himself in his robes to stay warm. “Eirik! Tell them to wait! I’m almost there!”

“Hurry up, Valgard!” another young man replied.

Hund returned his attention to the magnificent view of the city. Over the faint whistle of the wind, the varl could hear a woman screaming for help from the market quarters below.

He sighed. The pain caught up to him, and he leaned his paunch forward, pressing his hands into the small of his back. That floor had done something fierce to Hund’s spine, and if he were going to keep playing with the gaoler, he’d need a chair his own size.

The woman’s pleas gave way to the howl of watchmen’s horns. The chase was on. The chase was always on in Strand. Always some plot, some mischief, some victim in some trouble. But it did not matter, not at that moment. Finally, his back gave a loud pop. Hund groaned as he felt sweet relief wash over him, exhaling ecstatically.

He snorted, whispering to himself. “Another Yuletide in bloody Strand…”

From everyone at Stoic, wishing you all Happy Holiday and a Merry Yuletide this season!

Why did you choose to work in game development?

Well, I’ve always like drawing since I was kid, and once I got addicted to video games and learning 3d software the path was kinda set. Though my 1st job in the industry was in QA and is still the hardest job i ever had.

What part of your role do you enjoy the most?

Anytime I get to use Zbrush, sculpting is so damn relaxing. Also any time I get an asset in the game that works feels pretty good.

What inspires you?

Being inspired is one of the greatest feels for me in the world, but you can’t sit around waiting for it, just get on with it. We have work to do!

What is your favorite videogame genre?

FPS for sure and Tribes would be my favorite of all time. Tribes I love because of the movement. There hasn’t been a game since, that’s got anywhere near the thrill of that game’s movement system.

What moment or memory from a game do you have that has had the greatest impact on you?

Not sure I have any one moment, its more like the feeling of shooting some in the face in a PVP game is very gratifying!

What would you be doing if you couldn’t make video games for a living?

That is a scary question because I have no idea! I used to be a good Line cook!

If you could give some advice to someone who wants to work in this industry / do what you do, what would it be?

Back in the day I learned most of my 3d/concept art skills from forums. Today all the tools and knowledge of how to use them are freely available to everyone. My advice is to just make a game/mod, there are many free game engines / 3d programs you can play with. Making a game/mod is thousands of steps, each one will teach you something, you will fail a lot and get frustrated and that’s how you know it’s working!

If you had a superpower, what would it be and how would you use it?

Mines pretty lame, flight would be my superpower and I wouldn’t do anything with it just fly around!

Any favorite YouTube channels you want to recommend?

MSamson Boat Co. This Guy is restoring a 1900s wooden boat. I personally have no interest in wood working or boat building but the problem solving that goes on is so f’n fascinating.
For relaxing I’d recommend Rambalac, he walks around Japan with a gyro stabilized camera with no voice over or music. Just hour long walks though interesting places in Japan.

Why did you choose to work in game development?

I grew up playing video games – 4 kids in the family, 4 controller ports – it was perfect. Wanted to get into the game industry and went from Art, to Player Support, to QA, and finally made it to my end goal of Producer!

What part of your role do you enjoy the most?

Being able to be a part of EVERYTHING! I wasn’t satisfied sticking to 1 role as an artist, and I wanted to be part of the tech and design sides, too. A Producer often picks up work where needed, and I absolutely love organizing people as well, so it was the perfect role for me!

What inspires you?

Success stories, particularly when they’re about following your dreams. I aspired to follow mine, and I made it! I’m also a nerd about my job and really love listening to others’ postmortems and learnings, so I can improve myself and my team. I even take a lot of these lessons to improve my personal life!

What is your favorite videogame genre?

Does “competitive” count as a genre? I’d love to say “Fighting Games” here, but I love competitive co-op too!
I love the challenge of being able to coordinate a team, a la League of Legends, while also holding my own personal skills and strengths (like in lane). I enjoy using “mind games” to outsmart my opponent in a fighting game scenario. It’s also extremely rewarding to see the results of practice of tech played out in a live match! There’s just so much to analyze and understand, and no match is ever the same.

What moment or memory from a game do you have that has had the greatest impact on you?

The one that comes to mind immediately is the time I got SO SALTY from playing Super Smash Bros. 4, for the Wii U. Now, I don’t consider myself a huge rager in games – I’m pretty mild-mannered and just enjoy the competition. However, I played Princess Peach in that game, and was in a tournament match vs. a Cloud. I landed a CLEAN Forward Air on him (which is Peach’s killing move), and he survived. Once again, I landed a sweet spot Up-smash, and I thought the game was over – but he survived!
Then he came back, did an Ftilt (forward and tilt with the joy stick), and I died.
I remember FUMING after that. All of that patience, practice, the complicated tech and landing hits that really should have closed out the game… just to be beaten by a character whose stats were better.
… Player experience is so important. I keep these kind of things in mind when I feedback on the games we make.

What would you be doing if you couldn’t make video games for a living?

I honestly wonder sometimes if I should have been a surgeon. Grew up in a medical family, so I don’t get queasy very easily. I’ve also got that sharp concentration and steady hands, think of all the ways “things could go wrong” which makes me cautious and careful, but I make decisions quickly – so I think I’d be a great one.
I don’t know if I would be as happy or satisfied, though. But props to all the surgeons out there doing the things they do!

If you could give some advice to someone who wants to work in this industry / do what you do, what would it be?

Just, “DO!” Do what you love, keep making what you want to make. Don’t stress over not being there NOW, keep your eyes on the goal. It’s very common in this industry for people to make weird paths towards their true goal. I only know a few select rare people who immediately became an artist/designer/programmer/whatever they wanted to be. Everyone else has had a swerving, shambling path – and that’s totally normal.

If you had a superpower, what would it be and how would you use it?

Teleportation, hands down. I’d love to teleport to places – cut the commute, go on vacation, get to where I want to go without the travel.
That’s not to say I can’t enjoy the journey from time to time… but teleportation would make things so easy!

Any favorite YouTube channels you want to recommend?

The KNKL Show is my favorite channel for learning digital art. I also love Mother’s Basement because I’m a big anime fan and I love his snark.
Lastly, Lindsey Ellis is totally looked over! I recommend her!
My YouTube is full of analysis/review vids and background work music. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ That’s all I’ve got for now!