the fun dumb review.
day 1. 1 hour.
day 2. 0 hours.
day 3. went to bed at 4 am.
day 4. 20 hours.
day 5. 30 hours.
later that week. 45 hours.
in short, get the game. get some mods, forget to look at your clock and lose all sense of time.
the much less fun review. (V2)
ing great mod support
ing great mods
did i say the mods are great yet? we have mods for everything
bears on drugs, mods that mod the mod loader
pirates coming in via the roof
recruit your foes or cut their organs out and ditch them in a ditch
good cover system, no getting shot in the foot with chest high walls
heat stroke and hypothermia
forests lit ablaze and auto turrets
you like gunships? we got atleast 1 mod with air support
small things can turn the tide in battle
do whatever it takes, scorched earth tactics in your own base
we can rebuild him, we have the technology
mountain bases and man hunting rats
IEDs and the Rimsenal mod series
when a mod your save wont boot without get pulled from the workshop by some for basicly no reason
We had survived in the cold tundra for a year, hydroponics and animal breeding the only thing that kept us from starving. Unlike my previous colonies, we had not succumbed to the barbaric nature of cannibalism out of self preservation. The gates that led out into the frozen wastes stayed sealed, and noone was allowed to leave. The moment you stepped outside, your flesh would freeze and turn black, and no one would be able to save you from the long dark. So we stayed inside, isolated from the rest of the world. Many came in pursuit of our resources. They would charge those gates with reckless abandon, blood lust driving them against the bitter cold. It was a good source of entertainment, I must admit, to hear the would-be raiders banging on the gates with clubs and spears, to listen to them claw at the stone with desperation as mother nature chilled them to the core.
The raids never lasted long. Little by little, the screams and the banging would stop altogether, but we didn’t dare to open the door to strip the dead of their belongings. We had better sense than that. The gate stayed close, and a mountain of bodies accompanied it. The three little colonists never had cause for concern. They ate rich meals by day and snuggled up to warm beds and smokeleaf joints by night. Life was good.
The best thing about this game is that everything bad that happens to your people is your fault, no matter what.
Your Colonist downed by a rabid deer?
You should have made him stay inside, where he’s safe.
Your best builder’s arm chopped off?
Your fault for letting a raider get that close in the first place.
All your prisoners staging a riot and killing your favorite pawn’s 7-year old daughter?
What were you doing letting a 7-year old deliver food to your prisoners?
A Pawn going berserk and destroying your last stack of food?
you probably shouldn’t have cooked and ate his dog after his daughter just died.
Starving to death?
You should have seen that cold snap coming, and you should have installed fire suppression systems in your crop fields, and you should have spent your money buying food from that last trader rather than saving it for ‘when you really need it’, and you shouldn’t have kept so many prisoners.
Have a pawn wandering around outside in a psychotic daze in radioactive nuclear winter in -50C weather literally freezing all his fingers off?
That’s what happens when you’re forced to butcher and eat your prisoners for food.
10/10 would feel guilty for not taking care of my colonists again.