This probably won't sound sad when I write it, but I created a map for Timberborn where the residences would be built up the sides of a mini-mountain. Now playing the map, I had plotted out where I wanted everything built and then went off to do something else.
Some time later I went back to the residential section and saw that a child had been trapped by the construction and was starving/dying of thirst. The children run around and play in various places, and he was in the wrong spot when the last house was built. In real life, there is nothing I love more than children, and I couldn't help but to think of my own children when I saw him there. I really, really wanted to save this child.
I plotted his exit and all it would take would be for one set of stairs to be built. I plopped the plans down and set the stairs to the highest priority for builders. Then I went ahead and created a path for him to follow. That's when I noticed a drought was about to hit.
To build stairs, you need planks. We were fresh out due to all the construction, and you can't make planks during a drought because you need power supplied by water mills. I sighed and sped up time to try to get past the drought, and then I just watched him rock back and forth as the drought ravaged everything. When midnight hit, the boy turned 8-years-old. It was his birthday.
He didn't make it to morning, and suddenly my bright and happy game about beavers wasn't so bright and happy anymore.
Some time later I went back to the residential section and saw that a child had been trapped by the construction and was starving/dying of thirst. The children run around and play in various places, and he was in the wrong spot when the last house was built. In real life, there is nothing I love more than children, and I couldn't help but to think of my own children when I saw him there. I really, really wanted to save this child.
I plotted his exit and all it would take would be for one set of stairs to be built. I plopped the plans down and set the stairs to the highest priority for builders. Then I went ahead and created a path for him to follow. That's when I noticed a drought was about to hit.
To build stairs, you need planks. We were fresh out due to all the construction, and you can't make planks during a drought because you need power supplied by water mills. I sighed and sped up time to try to get past the drought, and then I just watched him rock back and forth as the drought ravaged everything. When midnight hit, the boy turned 8-years-old. It was his birthday.
He didn't make it to morning, and suddenly my bright and happy game about beavers wasn't so bright and happy anymore.