Added to my journal.

It was a pleasant cold winter evening; nothing foretold any trouble. Lord Gabe had only just managed to send out invitations to his mind-blowing fair of unprecedented generosity, where every law-abiding citizen, whether rich or poor, could choose wonderful gifts for themselves. I had seen these strange people before, slowly wandering between the rows of neat stalls run by smiling merchants. Many respected gentlemen at the "Fever" theater were putting on costumed performances that certainly piqued interest; periodically in town, one could stumble upon propaganda posters with wonderful drawings—what's more, anyone wishing to do so could listen to the mesmerizing stories of recruiters keeping watch by their black tent. And now they stand in their place, under a black banner fluttering in the wind with a frightening red emblem. A man smiling with his entire toothless mouth looked at me, inviting me into the darkness of the tent, and I, succumbing to a sudden longing, entered.
And now I already stand before heavy, rotten gates, holding a torch in my hand; fresh blood drips from my faithful sword, and a hoarse cry of "We are the flame!" escapes my mouth... immediately picked up by my battle comrades.

I have identified several general trends in opinions about the game, but I want to examine only one—the one represented by bitter "kittens" who justify their own incompetence with the same game mechanics where battles are tied to random numbers. About eighty percent of negative reviews on Steam criticize the game specifically for this. I bring up this fact in order to argue against an unfounded claim, and also for a laugh, ha-ha-ha, noobs can't handle games; let them go watch movies on ps4, damned untermenschen. Randomness indeed plays some role, extremely rarely even a decisive one, leaving zero chance of success in a quest, and sometimes it just shamelessly trolls you, causing significant "baguettes." But far more often, all troubles happen through the player's fault, because the game is not about battles (in my opinion, at least), although they are a fairly large part of it, but about management. Leadership, administration, reigning—I don't know which word can fully replace the foreign term. Sent timid hikkans into a field filled with crowds of bandits and they lost their minds? Blame yourself. Assembled a group of four idiots whose abilities don't particularly synergize with the environment or each other? You increased your chances of defeat. Were you greedy in some way? Consider it as having flipped a coin, leaving the fate of your wild little head in the hands of that same malicious RNG. I lost about twelve legendary heroes, maybe more; once, valuable artifacts went with them, half of which I never managed to find again by the end of the game. It was, of course, a bit annoying, but after ten minutes I wasn't thinking about how stupid the game is, but about how I should act next.

In general, on a first walkthrough, it is IMPOSSIBLE to lose, as the game sets no boundaries; therefore, you can thoughtlessly trade weeks—the local equivalent of turns—for empty actions, while not forgetting to fill the cemetery with fresh gravestones. A sort of test of will that filters out all the crybabies, whiners, and children. After completion, NG+ becomes available, where monsters are stronger and a limit on deaths and time is introduced; now this is a real fatal adventure where you need to think through your actions, carefully calculating your strength. This is an excellent solution that allows almost anyone to immerse themselves in the enchanting atmosphere. However, one should not think that it will be like a carefree stroll on a sunny summer day.
One of the obstacles on the path to success is precisely the local combat system, where characters will miss at crucial moments or hit for minimum attack value, leaving 1-2 hp for the enemy. My favorite situation is when an enemy has one health point, my heroes' next two attacks miss him, and he, with his last strength, overcoming everything, pushes a vulnerable character's stress bar to a hundred. Upon reaching the stress limit, the brave warriors lose their minds, triggering a roulette of obsessions that break all harmony in the squad (but even more so break the player's nervous system). Heroes fall into a rage, snapping at and cursing party members, refusing to eat, disobeying orders—complete chaos ensues. Just one such "gone" person is capable of ruining the entire expedition, dragging the rest down into the mire of madness. A peculiar model of how in some online games just one person can lead their team to defeat, ha-ha. I am not a fan of randomness; even more so, I hate it, but I can reconcile with its presence if the game offers something else. Since success in completing quests here is mostly a result of clever calculation and preparation, randomness introduces an element of risk, danger, romance, and, of course, drama! As well as a substantial ladleful of keyboards smashed in rage and torn-out hair.

This is that rare case where I like every presented hero; they are all so soulful. At first, I wanted to make my own character tier list where I would describe my thoughts regarding their strength and application, since there are people on the forum who have already completed the game, but I decided not to do it so as not to spoil the experience for those who have read this but haven't played yet. Each of the seventeen heroes possesses unique abilities that work better in different situations; some clearly prevail in usefulness, others are easily replaced by more effective ones. I thought so until I read a couple of alternative opinions where people used different tactics and successfully completed the game just the same. Which path will you take? Come on, be bold, descend into the dark, damp corridors.
Despite the fact that the game charmed me so strongly, I still don't know what interesting things I can write about it. The mechanics are simple and brilliant, easy to learn, not overloaded with unnecessary shit or disposable half-baked ideas. Superb art, striking style, incredible atmosphere. No hundreds of DLCs with skins and maps, no stamped-out babes that currently clutter all of Gabe's bazaar—no SMS or registration required—just a great game. After reflecting, I still haven't come up with any negative traits; in fact, even the randomness seems completely appropriate to me, which says a lot. I don't want to write about it; I want to play it, to dive again into the intertwining dark corridors where your best friends are: a torch, a sword, a prayer, and an unbreakable will.

Having opened the letter of an ancestor who shot himself in the head, I immediately set out on my journey. Overcoming troubles that suddenly arose along the way, I found myself in my newly acquired holdings—a small town plundered by thugs, among half-destroyed houses with boarded-up windows. Gathering volunteers, brave fighters against the undead longing for glory and profit, I set off to explore another part of my enormous inheritance. The further we pushed into the ruins filled with undead, the deeper we descended into the foul sewers that had become home to numerous disgusting creatures—victims of failed experiments—the more I cursed the day that unfortunate letter arrived! As I found blood-soaked notes, I became increasingly horrified by the chilling deeds of my ancestor. At first, I refused to believe it, attributing this whole nightmare to a misunderstanding or a lack of all necessary information. But my eyes... they saw everything! What could have guided the wretched lord who committed this? Madness! Madness!
I realized this only upon feeling his cold black shadow over me. It watches me, suggestively whispering unimaginable horrors; I see its reflections in the glowing embers of the fireplace, in the faces of my sullen warriors, between the lines of cursed papers of a dead lord forever denied peace. My hands are shaking, my bitten pale lips are bleeding, my eyes are laced with thin red cracks—I can no longer bear this nightmare! A slightly scratched but still functional pistol belonging to my ancestor lies with a pleasant weight in my convulsively clutching hand; I have done all that I could.