The production of the Wayward Realms faced turmoil from its outset, alas. Despite valiant efforts to avert such tribulations, the journey was arduous in the extreme. Without financial backing and relying solely on voluntary contributions, the task of creation approached near impossibility. Astonishingly, neither Ted nor Julian boasted substantial connections or an extensive network of associates and investors. This, despite a market thirsting for such games and the potential they hold. With the exception of Bethesda's Skyrim, the market lacks endeavors of comparable scope. Even a modest infusion of funds could have propelled the project's initiation.
Under the volunteer framework, many contributions were directed towards world-building, lore, stories, and quests. Abundant creative content emerged from skilled writers, who convened for weekly meetings. This aspect of production yielded immense satisfaction, as the world's intricate tapestry unfolded, promising players an engaging experience.
Notably, the expansive world map surpasses even Daggerfall's dimensions, although this information may already be familiar to you.
The initial article penned by Ian, who departed the project around a year after its inception, garnered a mixed reaction from the production team. His departure led to frustration and disparagement within the group. Nonetheless, Ian's pivotal role in assembling the team and the project's foundations was notable, even though neither Ted nor Julian showed significant initial interest or invested financially.
Ian's candid account accurately depicted the unfolding reality. Within a year, the project encountered significant internal challenges. Julian's scarce presence and Ted's infrequent involvement hampered progress, as key decisions hinged upon their input. The project teetered on the brink when Ian experienced a mental breakdown and withdrew. A critical intervention orchestrated by a swift-acting individual salvaged the situation, compelling Ted to reassess his commitment.
The project's core team remained fluid, with members entering and exiting over the years. While this is a familiar tale, the recent developments are of more pressing interest. A complex interplay of positive and negative factors ensued, manifesting in nuanced shades rather than absolutes. This account will focus on the adversities, acknowledging the intricate balance between both aspects.
Entering the core of the narrative, a notable drawback emerged as the project saw a subtle takeover by inexperienced junior individuals. During their tenure, apart from Ted and Julian, there existed one professional with industry experience, accompanied by a skilled artist of notable talent. The majority, however, were largely amateurs, enthusiasts from online forums, and interns. The endeavor began to adopt a forum-like mentality, verging on a cultish atmosphere. This transformation was fueled by the absence of sound work management, actual production ethics, and the dearth of seasoned professionals guiding the actual production within a genuine professional environment.
Effectively, the project, aside from Ted who served more as a symbolic figure than a CEO, found itself under the leadership of an inexperienced, almost unprofessional collective. This cohort, though lacking proficiency and real-life experience, asserted their dominance. Unfortunately, this dynamic resulted in them disregarding advice from the seasoned contributors on the team.
A young individual, let's call him Tod, joined the team, assuming the position of manager. Initially, he appeared promising and took charge of creating the project's inaugural trailer. While the trailer's success wasn't solely attributed to him, Tod managed to instill a measure of focus within the team. The purpose of the trailer was to boost team morale and offer something to the community, a goal it successfully achieved. Under Tod's gaze, the trailer was produced, with his influence extending to its artistic domain. The trailer's creation was a formidable task, reflecting the challenges posed by a dearth of seasoned professionals.
Following this, the team began to place trust in this individual, eventually designating him as one of the leads. The decision was made to pursue the Epic Grant as a starting point, with further strategies also being contemplated. An initiative to construct a procedural dungeon concept was launched, tailored for the Epic Grant application. The rationale was to secure a modest sum that could facilitate gradual and controlled expenditures, aiding the creation of a vertical slice to attract potential investors.
Upon the completion of the dungeon concept, the application to Epic was submitted. The team continued their endeavors with the development of the vertical slice. Although several investors and publishers displayed keen interest in the project, their demand for tangible progress was justifiable. However, lacking professional expertise, the endeavor of creating this monumental task proved almost insurmountable.
A single individual contributed around 70% of the vertical slice's content, supported by several interns who collectively contributed about 10%, and one additional contributor who contributed approximately 20%. Coders faced considerable challenges in ensuring the project's functionality. Within the coding team, a lead coder concentrated on housing procedural generation, while others grappled with the main character, dialogue system, item system, and subpar NPCs. Remarkably, certain individuals in the YouTube community demonstrate the capability to accomplish similar feats in Unreal Engine 5 within the span of a month.
The intended timeline for completing the vertical slice encompassed three months, with the prospect of minor extensions for tweaks and polish—perhaps an additional 2 to 4 weeks. It was crucial to finalize this phase, given that publishers had been awaiting progress for nearly a year. Enter TOD, whose inexperience prompted him, along with the lead coder, to advocate for rigorous and relentless polishing of the vertical slice until deemed "done." However, the precise definition of "done" remained elusive.
This approach carried detrimental implications. Vertical slices and demos for publishers are inherently raw, meant to convey the project's vision, atmosphere, scale, and the team's capability to create a game. Publishers and investors, as professionals, grasp the essence of what's shown and are impervious to superficial polish. Regrettably, TOD's amateur status led him to reject this notion. His misguided belief was that excessive polish would enhance publishers' enthusiasm, albeit at the cost of team exhaustion. Even Ted recognized the perils of this approach, voicing concerns that fell on deaf ears.
Initial talks with a publisher led to a request for the vertical slice. Instead of providing it within a month, the decision was made to continue polishing for an additional three months—an action bordering on insanity or deliberate design. Such circumstances evoke suspicion, prompting considerations of industrial espionage. It's as though every effort has been directed towards thwarting production funding. This notion might verge on paranoia, but it's a perspective that has emerged.
Recalling the earlier mention of applying for the Epic Grant, it transpired that the application seemingly never reached Epic. Ted's inquiries to his friend revealed its absence. The suggestion of a server error surfaced, though notably, no reports emerged of similar issues affecting other projects.
Another crucial point emerged when the team presented the vertical slice to the patiently-awaiting publishers. As seasoned professionals, the publishers recognized the project's potential despite its rough, customary state for such presentations. Impressed by what they observed, they proceeded to request copies of the Game Design Document (GDD), pitch deck, and risk register—industry-standard requirements for negotiations. These requests were reasonable and customary. However, the process became marred by delay. Instead of promptly focusing the entire team on preparing these materials and expediting the process, they allowed it to stagnate. Surprisingly, no timeline for the next meeting was set. The corporate team opted to prioritize not only the polishing of the vertical slice but also the meticulous preparation of the requested documents.
Moving forward, two publishers eagerly awaited action from the team—not merely content to witness progress but anticipating an appointment for an initial talk meeting. This indicated a level of amateurism that was pronounced. In his capacity as CEO, it should have been Ted's responsibility to assert authority and initiate decisive actions. Regrettably, he remained passive, allowing unseasoned individuals to take the lead, despite their lack of productivity. Julian, not assuming the role of CEO and displaying limited investment in the project, lacked the firmness that characterized his days at Bethesda.
The lead coder, while possessing expertise, exhibited a tinge of narcissism that approached fervor. Dissent rarely found purchase against his convictions. While acknowledging his skillset, one questions the time invested in his tasks. For instance, a housing procedural generation sample intended for the vertical slice consumed two months in its initial iteration, a period excluding proprietary roof model elements. The inclusion of these elements, planned for the subsequent month, accentuates an inefficiency that is remarkable. In contrast, other creators within the Blender realm complete intricate building procedural tasks with remarkable speed.
Another significant issue for the project, beyond the lack of experienced industry professionals, centered on a form of feature creep ingrained within the overarching project planning. While the initial vision for WR embraced a realistic yet non-photorealistic aesthetic, the advent of UE5 introduced an inflation of expectations to unrealistic proportions. The implementation of resource-intensive techniques such as nanite and fluidflux held potential for depth but carried immense costs across all dimensions. If not meticulously controlled, UE5 and its intricate methods had the potential to spiral out of control. Such an approach, if executed as conceived, would necessitate the resources of AAA studios with seasoned teams, substantial funding, and years of commitment. Moreover, it would likely confine its accessibility to high-end hardware, with installation demands exceeding 500GB.
The budgeting process defied conventional logic. Despite repeated counsel, the project's scope, enlarged by various additions, indicated that only a mid-tier budget, likely in the range of around 50 million dollars, and spanning many years of labor involving a sizable crew, might yield completion. A stark contrast emerged as the budget presented to publishers reflected a mere fraction of this reality. Their rationale—to not "scare off" investors and publishers—found merit, yet it begged for alignment with project aspirations.
Furthermore, the project's emphasis shifted, resulting in its transformation into a cozy space for socializing and fostering friendships, which eventually overshadowed its fundamental purpose. This transition from being driven by the dynamics of the project to fostering a more amicable atmosphere exerted a discernible influence, significantly hampering the project's momentum. This reshaped focus ultimately led the project to take a total back seat in favor of social interactions, where team members began prioritizing mutual protection over the advancement of the project itself. This was evident in their inclination toward being the center of attention as a team, rather than focusing solely on the project's original purpose for their involvement.
Good & Bad things of the project:
Good
- Work that was actually done for the project
- Lore
- World building
- Writing stories/books
- Writing quests
- Concepts and Illustrations (it is just a scratch of what is needed for the overall project)
- Playable races flashing out.
- Idea development
- Gameplay mechanics idea development
- Work that was half done and/or never meant to be finished
- Dungeon procgen show of
- Vertical slice playable show of
Bad
- Actual game.
- There is no actual game, nor was ever such a plan in this volunteer stage of the project.
- No Alpha of any kind, in regards to the real game. (the pre-alpha they are refereeing to is just a vertical slice)
- Some videos just show snippets of Dungeon procgen demo and somewhat of procgen housing generation.
- Most of the later screenshots are from the vertical slice, from the early stage.
- Almost no pro 3D work for the actual game. All you see are just fooling around, showing off for the community and something that could not be used in the actual game.
The project gradually adopted a corporate-like mindset, largely guided by TOD. This framework functioned akin to a board of directors, dictating decisions for a project that didn't yet exist. Such decisions even imposed their will on Ted, the company's founder, despite the fact that his reputation and legalities were at stake. It's important to note, however, that this isn't a defense of Ted, as his ignorance and attitudes have also demonstrated some malevolence, although this aspect won't be delved into here.
A glaringly nonsensical move within the project was the plan to retain all leadership roles from the volunteer phase once funding was secured. Instead of strategically bringing in industry professionals to assume critical leading roles—a pivotal aspect for any project—existing volunteers clung to their lead positions. This decision had the potential to lead to a sharp nosedive for the project. Their motivation appeared to be a pursuit of substantial financial gain, reflecting their aspirations for significant wealth, involving multi-million-dollar sums.
Had the project maintained a more restrained scope, operating on a smaller engine, and entrusted professionals with the lead roles, it might have stood a better chance. The recently shared snippets on Youtube derive from the vertical slice demo created for potential publishers. A couple of observations regarding this: it seems that the original housing assets developed around a year ago weren't utilized, and the team leaned more towards using readily available Marketplace assets. Additionally, while the showcased area appears polished, the endeavor to achieve this level of refinement took nearly a year to reach about 40% above initial setup. This suggests a lack of substantial progress in talks with publishers, or perhaps such discussions were limited in nature. Consider that the polishing effort, spanning an entire year, was directed solely at an area measuring approximately 3x3km. Contemplate the monumental undertaking of achieving similar refinement across a region spanning 600x600km, complete with all its content.
The contingency plan entailed resorting to crowdfunding if negotiations with publishers and investors failed to secure financial backing for the project. The board of directors proposed employing the vertical slice as a marketing tool, leveraging it for a video trailer or a restricted gameplay demonstration.
If crowdfunding became the chosen route and funding objectives were met, the unfortunate destiny that awaits this project, given the presence of inexperienced individuals determined to retain their roles, would mirror the outcomes seen in games like Shroud of the Avatar, Camelot Unchained, and others.
