Is there nothing more frightful than a one-armed behemoth with horns? Fewer fighters and varl meant potentially harsher battles if I couldn't order those unnamed masses to thin out the hordes of armored enemies known as the dredge before leading my heroes to victory. It wasn't so much the loss of life that I regretted, however, but my own failures as a commander. My best intentions led me astray, and those mistakes cost lives. At one point, I ran out of supplies, and watched in sadness as the game informed me of my losses. Furthermore, the resource called renown, which you use to purchase more supplies in the towns you visit, is the same you use to promote your heroes, whom you lead into turn-based battle. Each day spent hiking uses up supplies should you run out, you start losing clansmen, warriors, or giantlike varl to famine. This is an intriguing approach to strategy and storytelling, and it often works. All you can do is follow your instincts, apply some logical reasoning, and hope for the best. Do you argue for him to stay? Do you send him away, thinking that perhaps he might return and grovel for mercy later? You can't presume anything. Do you support the accuser, do you support the accused, or do you dig deeper into the conflict? An obnoxious general questions your leadership and threatens to run off into the wilderness with his own men. A woman has been murdered, and her mother blames another traveler. The automated journey is interrupted frequently with events that require your input. You spend most of your time watching several expeditions of men and giants cross the frigid Scandinavian landscape and rest in the villages and encampments they encounter. Making decisions with unclear consequences is The Banner Saga's main thrust. Sometimes, you feel in control of your destiny, and sometimes you feel like your destiny is at the whim of the elements. In The Banner Saga, you face these kinds of decisions all through the game's 10-hour campaign, making choices, and then clenching your jaw and hoping your trust was properly placed. The caravan encounters a troop of thieves and must reach a decision: invite the thieves to join the roving party in the hopes they might bolster the defenses, or send them away out of fear, assuming they will steal precious supplies. These travelers seem so small, so insignificant, when viewed against the chilled backdrop. Snowflakes waft by and craggy mountains stretch across the horizon. These colorfully clothed warriors cut a striking silhouette against the bleak, frozen landscape. A caravan of men and giants crosses the land.
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