The Replay Notebook emblem The Replay Notebook Second visits, written down

Every piece here follows a full replay of a game finished at least four years earlier, with notes from both playthroughs side by side.

Replay · lead

Timber Hollow Was Never About The Village, And I Needed Nine Years To Notice

I finished this in a fortnight when it came out and remembered it as a place: a village, a valley, a bell that rang at dusk. Nine years later the village takes eleven minutes to walk across, and the system I ignored completely on the first visit turns out to be the game.

Replay Nine years between visits Forty hours then, thirty-one now Both completed
A fantasy village of timber houses around a stone well with a bell tower and slightly overgrown paths in warm afternoon light
Four enterable buildings, one well, one tower. It felt considerably larger in 2017.

My notes from the first playthrough run to fourteen pages and mention the village on eleven of them. They describe the bell, the light in the late afternoon, the way the paths were slightly overgrown at the edges, and a long passage about how it felt to come back to it after a week away in the mountains.

What they do not mention, at all, in fourteen pages, is the ledger. There is a single line on page nine: ledger screen, fiddly, ignore where possible. That is the entire record of the system that determines every outcome in this game.

What the village actually is

Eleven minutes to cross at a walk. Four buildings you can enter, one of which is a single room. Six named residents, of whom two have more than three lines of dialogue. No shop, no crafting station, no quest board.

I want to be precise about this because the discrepancy is the interesting part. The village is not badly made; it is exactly adequate, and it is doing the job of being somewhere to return to. What it is not is content, and my memory had converted it into the majority of the game because returning is what I remembered feeling.

Memory keeps the feeling and discards the mechanism, and then attributes the feeling to whatever was on screen at the time.

What the ledger is

Every decision in Timber Hollow is entered in a ledger: what was taken from the valley, what was given back, what is owed and to whom. It is presented as an accounting screen, it is genuinely awkward to operate, and it is the only place where the game's rules are visible.

On the first playthrough I avoided it, made decisions intuitively, and completed the game in forty hours with what I recorded as a good ending. On the replay I read it, and discovered that roughly half of what I had understood about the game in 2017 was wrong.

The valley does not recover on a timer, which I had assumed. It recovers in proportion to what the ledger shows as returned, which means the long stretches I spent in the mountains — the stretches my notes describe most fondly — were periods in which the village was quietly deteriorating because nothing was being entered.

What I believed in 2017What the ledger actually does
Valley recovers over timeRecovers in proportion to entries returned
Residents leave randomlyLeave when their entry stays unbalanced
The bell marks the dayThe bell rings when a debt is settled
Mountain trips are freeNothing is entered while you are away

The bell

This is the part I have thought about most. My notes from 2017 mention the bell nine times and describe it as marking the end of the day.

It does not. The bell rings when an entry in the ledger is settled, which happens most often in the late afternoon because that is when the residents finish their work, which is why it appeared to be a clock. Nine years ago I built a whole impression of a place around a sound whose meaning I had inverted.

On the replay, hearing it means something specific and it changes what I do next. It is a better game with the bell understood, and it is a less atmospheric one, and I am not sure the trade favours the second playthrough.

Nine hours shorter

Thirty-one hours this time against forty. Some of that is competence and some of it is that I no longer spend an hour walking around a village that has four rooms in it.

But the largest part is that a game played with its central system understood is much more efficient, and efficiency is not obviously what this game wanted from me. The first playthrough was longer, wronger and considerably more affecting. The second was correct.

MeasureFirst playthroughReplay
DurationForty hoursThirty-one hours
Ledger consultedAlmost neverConstantly
Residents remainingFour of sixSix of six
Notes takenFourteen pagesFive pages

What holds up

The valley does. Not the village but the space around it, which is generous, quiet and almost entirely unmarked, and which no amount of understanding the ledger diminishes. Nine years of open worlds full of icons have made this game's emptiness look like a decision rather than a limitation.

What does not hold up is the presentation of the ledger, which is a genuine design failure. A system this important should not be this easy to avoid for forty hours, and the fact that a player can finish the game with a good ending while misunderstanding its central mechanism is not a compliment to either of us.

Where the replay leaves it

A better game than I thought and a worse memory than I had. The valley is the achievement, the ledger is the game, and the village is a small warm room that nine years of remembering had expanded into a country. I would not trade the first playthrough for the second.