Falconeer Dev Ditches the Viral Frenzy, Finds Magic in Sustainable Community Building

AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer · Sun Nov 09 2025

Tomas Sala, the visionary dev behind *The Falconeer* and *Bulwark*, is ditching the chaotic chase for viral game hits. Instead, he's embracing a sustainable model of community building and continuous game improvement, like his free *Falconeer Revolution Remaster*, proving that genuine player engagement might just be the future of indie survival.

Original source for this article: Eurogamer by Robert Purchese.

Right, so imagine you're a game developer, yeah? You've spent years honing your craft, pouring your soul into digital worlds, and then you launch your baby into the wild. And what happens? Well, these days, it feels like you're either a global sensation overnight – like some kind of accidental reality-bending spell – or you're just... gone. Poof. Vanished into the ether of an algorithmic wasteland. It's a proper bloody casino, mate.

That's the landscape Tomas Sala, the clever chap behind *The Falconeer* and *Bulwark*, has been navigating. And let me tell you, he's seen enough of it to say, 'Sod this for a game of soldiers,' and chart a completely different course. He's ditched the chase for the viral hit, and honestly, it might just be the most sensible thing I've heard all week in this mad, beautiful industry.

This isn't just about one developer's woes, though. It's a cracking insight into the wider currents pulling at indie devs, and how the entire 'hit or miss' market is making folks question everything. Let's dig into Sala's pivot – a move that might just be the sustainable magic trick we've all been looking for.

You've probably noticed it, haven't you? This weird, almost feverish energy in the gaming world lately. According to Sala, 2025 has become the year of 'mean-gaming.' A brutal, unforgiving landscape where everyone's trying to catch the 'viral flywheel.' Think *Balatro* – an absolute gem, no doubt, but its stratospheric success paved the way for this algorithmic feeding frenzy. If your game sells, Steam shoves it in front of more eyeballs. More sales, more eyeballs, rinse and repeat until you're either a megahit or just another pixelated ghost in the machine.

We've seen it with games like *Escape from Duckov* – a PvE extraction shooter that seemingly materialized out of thin air and instantly captured hundreds of thousands of concurrent players and millions of sales. Or *Megabonk*, which had its moment in the sun, blazing brighter than a magnesium flare. Even *Peak*, the co-op climbing game, was everywhere for a bit. These aren't your typical AAA behemoths; they're often small-team or solo projects, tailor-made, Sala reckons, to go viral. They’re like digital TikTok dances, easily digestible, quick to spread, and just as quickly forgotten when the next hot thing drops. Add a dash of AI into that mix, and you've got the potential for an endless stream of quickly churned-out, trend-chasing titles. It’s chaotic, sure, but is it sustainable? Sala, for one, is having none of it. And frankly, neither am I, not entirely. It feels a bit like trying to catch lightning in a bottle every single time you cast a spell, doesn't it?

Now, Sala isn't just some armchair critic muttering about the good old days. He’s lived this cycle. He told Eurogamer's Robert Purchese that he's 'lost my appetite for launching games.' And who can blame him, eh? His first big birdy aerial combat game, *The Falconeer*, launched right alongside the shiny new Xbox Series S/X. Great exposure, right? You'd think so. But it also brought 'an inhuman amount of expectation,' leading to feedback that was, let's just say, 'fierce.' The internet can be a wonderful place for connecting, but it can also be a brutal crucible, can't it?

Then came *Bulwark*, his chill sea-town builder. A bit smoother, but still, Sala found himself dividing the audience like a wizard trying to split an atom – some absolutely adored its unique approach, praising how it 'reconnects with a how game like this could be.' Others? Not so much. 'This makes me relearn everything; I bloody hate it,' they'd say. Imagine pouring years into something and hearing that. It’s enough to make you want to pack away your dev tools and start a digital tea leaf reading business instead. Sala himself admitted he 'didn't enjoy the launch of either game very much.' The traditional 'make a game, launch a game, hope it's a hit' model was clearly taking its toll.

So, if chasing viral hits is a mug's game and traditional launches are emotionally draining, what's a wizard to do? Sala looked around, not at the fleeting magnesium flares, but at the steady, glowing embers. He studied games like *Dwarf Fortress* and *Brigador* – titles built by small teams who've created sustainable businesses by doubling down on something truly powerful: their communities. These aren’t 'hit singles' artists; they're selling out arenas because people are coming for *them*, for the assurance that the game will not only be there in five years but will have *changed* and evolved.

This, mate, is where the magic really happens. 'Those are the people I know that have the most fun,' Sala reckons, 'They're the least stressed.' Sounds pretty good, doesn't it? Less stress, more fun, and a game that actually grows with its players? It’s like finding a stable portal to another dimension instead of constantly trying to teleport without a map. He wants to be *there*, and with *Bulwark*, he says he's already doing it. It's about building a foundation, not just a fleeting spectacle.

Now, here’s where Sala really walks the talk. He found that the post-launch work – the fixing, the additional development – which once daunted him, actually *energises* him now. He's a believer in that painful but necessary process of letting people 'shit over your work otherwise you can't improve.' It's brutal, sure, but if folks don't tell you 'this bloody sucks,' how are you meant to fix it? This candid approach, transparently interacting with players on Steam, asking for their ideas, that's the real secret sauce.

And the proof of the pudding? *The Falconeer Revolution Remaster*. Launched just this week, and get this: it's *free*. Yes, you read that right. Free. He’s used *Bulwark*'s town-tech to expand the world, remodelled the majestic falcons, condensed the world (remember that feedback about it being too spread out? He listened!), and even finally added proper mouse and keyboard controls. It's a top-to-bottom overhaul, a labour of love, and he's giving it away. Why? Because the 'monetary gain' isn't the primary reward here. The real treasure is building trust, cultivating a loyal community, and creating a stable base of players who will support his work for years to come. It’s a virtuous cycle, a proper digital ecosystem.

This isn't just a clever business model; it’s a philosophical shift. Sala's Ursee trilogy – with a third, ship-based game called *Ancient Waves* on the horizon, which he'll even openly test ideas for *within Bulwark* – benefits hugely from this approach. His games aren’t left to gather dust; they’re living, breathing entities that evolve. He's transformed from someone who 'lost my appetite for launching games' to someone who's 'gained an appetite of working with players to make games better.' He wants to 'not release games, but make games sustainably.' And honestly, looking at the mad scramble of the industry right now, I reckon this template of patience, community, and continuous improvement might just be the most potent spell a developer can cast. It's a genuine win for players, and a much-needed breath of fresh air for devs. Cheers to that, mate.

Tags: indie games, game development, community building, falconeer, gaming industry

Original article: Eurogamer