Herald: An Interactive Period Drama

Herald: An Interactive Period Drama is a narrative-driven adventure game set in the 18th century, where players investigate a false accusation through shifting perspectives akin to Rashomon. Developed by Dutch studio Wispfire, it blends cinematic visuals with point-and-click gameplay, immersing players in a world of political intrigue and moral dilemmas. The story unfolds across two books (Book I & II) with branching paths and multiple endings influenced by player choices, offering a rich, historically immersive experience.

Herald: An Interactive Period Drama: Review

Introduction

In the vast ocean of interactive narrative games, Herald: An Interactive Period Drama emerges as a bold, ambitious vessel, charting a course through the turbulent waters of colonialism, identity, and resistance. Developed by Dutch indie studio Wispfire, this episodic odyssey—released in four books between 2017 and 2025—reimagines the 19th century as a playground for complex moral dilemmas. At its heart is Devan Rensburg, a mixed-heritage steward aboard the merchant ship HLV Herald, whose journey to reclaim his roots becomes a profound exploration of societal oppression. While its gameplay mechanics are relatively simple, Herald distinguishes itself through meticulous historical research, a branching narrative that resonates with real-world urgency, and a visual style that marries 3D environments with expressive 2D portraits. This review argues that Herald stands as a landmark achievement in choice-driven storytelling, leveraging its setting to dissect colonial power structures with nuance and empathy—even as its pacing and technical limitations occasionally anchor its ambitions.

Development History & Context

Wispfire’s genesis is a testament to indie tenacity. Founded in 2013 by Bart Heijltjes (creative director), Roy van der Schilden (writer), Aïda de Ridder (artist), and Remko Haagsma (programmer) at the Dutch Game Garden in Utrecht, the studio began Herald in an attic, fueled by a desire to “create something more than just entertainment—a story that might tread on people’s toes and start a discussion.” Their inspiration struck after playing Beyond Good & Evil and attending a “Game Over Hate” conference, which crystallized their goal to confront identity and racial representation in games—a topic they felt the industry was neglecting.

Technically constrained, Wispfire leveraged Unity for its engine and Live2D for animated 2D portraits, a cost-effective choice inspired by Japanese visual novels. This hybrid approach allowed them to prioritize expressive character faces over detailed 3D models. Funding arrived via a successful 2015 Kickstarter campaign and support from the Dutch Stichting Democratie en Media, enabling full voice casting. Remarkably, Wispfire sought actors matching characters’ cultural heritages (e.g., British-Indian actor Vivek Bhurtun as Devan), grounding the narrative in authenticity.

The game’s episodic structure was partly pragmatic: Books I & II launched in 2017, but a eight-year hiatus followed due to scope expansion and partnerships (e.g., with 2Awesome Studio for Books III & IV, released in 2025). This delay cast uncertainty, yet the final product—The Complete Edition—seamlessly weaves all four books into a cohesive whole. Released on PC, macOS, Linux, and consoles (via a 2017 patch for Xbox/PS4 controllers), Herald navigated a 2017 gaming landscape dominated by Telltale-esque choice-driven games, setting itself apart with its period specificity and thematic depth.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Herald’s narrative unfolds through a Rashomon-like framing device: Devan, rescued after drowning at sea, recounts his voyage to the enigmatic Rani, a noblewoman holding his journal hostage. His story transports players to 1857 aboard the HLV Herald, where the British Protectorate— a colonial superpower uniting Western Europe—struggles to maintain order over its “Eastern Colonies” (a stand-in for India). Devan, a steward of mixed heritage (Protectorate father, colonial mother), seeks to reconnect with his roots, only to confront systemic racism, political intrigue, and personal betrayal.

The plot thrives on vignettes that mirror macrocolonial conflicts in microcosm. Key arcs include:
– Devan’s identity crisis: His dialogue choices—whether to endure microaggressions (e.g., being addressed with condescension) or rebel subtly (e.g., sabotaging a bigot’s meal)—reflect the tightrope walk of minorities in oppressive societies. Devan’s arc, inspired by historical figures like Dido Elizabeth Belle, embodies the tension between assimilation and cultural pride.
– The stowaway subplot: When Daniel Barros, a kitchen hand, hides his biracial daughter Elisa aboard, Senator Louis Morton’s cruel “trial” exposes the Protectorate’s hypocrisy. Morton’s coldheartedness contrasts sharply with his niece Tabatha’s progressive allyship, highlighting generational divides.
– Aaron Ludlow/Ashna’s revelation: The charismatic second officer is revealed as Ashna, the Rani’s daughter, whose advocacy for equality masks a deeper familial and political mission. This twist reframes the entire narrative as a resistance movement.

Themes permeate every exchange. Colonialism is not backdrop but antagonist: characters like Morton spout rhetoric about “welcoming refugees” while enforcing brutal punishments, exposing the hypocrisy of benevolent imperialism. The ship itself is a “metaphor for the multicultural society,” where racial, class, and gender hierarchies collide. Devan’s journal—framing the story—symbolizes the erasure of marginalized voices, a theme underscored by the Rani’s interrogation: “Why should I believe your version of events?” This meta-question challenges players to consider whose histories get recorded.

Dialogue trees are Herald’s lifeblood. Choices rarely alter endings drastically but reshape relationships and opportunities. For example, comforting Ian (a cabin boy abused by Officer Rupert Brunswick) may earn his trust, enabling later revelations. Meanwhile, ignoring Tabatha’s request to investigate her uncle’s letter can trigger devastating consequences in Book IV. Roy van der Schilden’s writing draws from Multatuli’s Max Havelaar and Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, ensuring conversations feel weighty yet natural. The result is a story where silence is complicity, and every word is a political act.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

As a hybrid of point-and-click adventure and visual novel, Herald’s gameplay prioritizes narrative interactivity over traditional puzzles. Core loops involve:
– Exploration: Players navigate the Herald’s claustrophobic decks, fetching sails, locating items, or eavesdropping on conversations. While atmospheric, tasks are straightforward—more world-building than challenge.
– Dialogue choices: The heart of the experience, these influence NPC reactions. Devan can be deferent (“Yes, sir”), rebellious (adding salt to Morton’s soup), or pragmatic. Choices are tracked in his journal, which sketches branching paths, encouraging replays.
– Character interaction: Relationships evolve organically. Helping Daniel Barros might earn his aid in smuggling Elisa, while siding with Morton could isolate Tabatha. However, few consequences are irreversible, limiting high-stakes tension.

Notably, Herald avoids combat and inventory puzzles. Items auto-use when needed (e.g., presenting a handkerchief to Daniel), streamlining play but reducing player agency. The UI, designed as Devan’s journal, offers a ship map, task lists, and an encyclopedia—valuable for lore but occasionally cluttered. Pacing is deliberate: Books I-II establish characters slowly, while Books III-IV accelerate into political chaos. This shift can feel abrupt, as Chloe C. noted, with “complex political info dumps” overwhelming players.

Controller support (added in 2017) and a 2025 patch addressing dialogue tweaks show Wispfire’s post-release dedication. Yet the gameplay remains Herald’s weakest element—a necessary vessel for its narrative, but one that occasionally springs leaks.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Herald’s alternate history is its crown jewel. The Protectorate, a fusion of British and Dutch colonial power, replaces the British Empire, creating a “dark mirror” of reality. Historian Roy van der Schilden interviewed marginalized groups (e.g., Iraqi refugees) to inform characters like Devan, whose struggles reflect real-world xenophobia. The Eastern Colonies, teetering on rebellion (echoing the 1857 Indian Mutiny), add urgency.

Artistically, Herald blends 3D environments with 2D Live2D portraits. Ship interiors—claustrophobic cabins, bustling decks—are rendered with sunset-hued palettes, evoking the Age of Sail’s romanticism yet hinting at decay. Characters shine in close-up: Devan’s sultry pout, Tabatha’s wide-eyed curiosity, and Morton’s sneering arrogance are conveyed through nuanced animations. The Rani’s chambers, rich with jewel-toned rugs and gauzy curtains, contrast sharply with the ship’s utilitarian spaces, underscoring cultural divides.

Sound design amplifies immersion. Bart Delissen’s score shifts between jaunty sea shanties and somber strings, though tonal dissonance arises (e.g., upbeat music over trauma). Voice acting is uniformly excellent, with regional accents grounding characters—Morton’s clipped English, Caleb’s American twang. Yet audio mixing flaws persist: sound effects (e.g., a lantern smash) drown dialogue in later books. Despite this, Herald’s world feels lived-in, a testament to Wispfire’s research and artistry.

Reception & Legacy

Herald launched in 2017 to critical acclaim, with a Metacritic score of 77 (“generally favorable”). Praise heaped on its “brilliant twisting story” (GameSkinny), “diverse characters” (Polygon), and “gorgeous 2D art” (Player2Reviews). Dutch outlets lauded its “complete artwork” (IGN Benelux: 9/10), while The Guardian likened its Rashomon-esque structure to Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon. However, criticism targeted its “basic 3D graphics” (Player2Reviews) and “inconsistent pacing” (Invision Community: 7/10).

The eight-year gap between Books I-II and III-IV tested patience, yet The Complete Edition (2025) revitalized its reputation. Chloe C. of Adventure Game Hotspot noted the “seamless integration” of all books, though the ending felt “rushed.” Academically, Herald gained traction;.VALUE’s book The Interactive Past analyzes its approach to history, positioning it as a model for ethical world-building.

Influence is palpable. Games like Pentiment and Heaven’s Vault cite Herald for blending history with choice-driven narratives. Its legacy lies in proving that games can dissect colonialism without lecturing—using empathy over didacticism. As Fiona Hartmann observed, Herald forces players to ask: “Is there any edge of the map that is far enough away that one can find freedom?”

Conclusion

Herald: An Interactive Period Drama is a voyage into the heart of inequality, anchored by a narrative of rare depth and emotional resonance. Wispfire’s meticulous craft—historical accuracy, character complexity, and thematic ambition—elevates it beyond its simple gameplay. While its pacing falters and its interactivity is light, the game’s power lies in its ability to make players confront their biases. Devan’s journey is not just a colonial adventure but a mirror held up to our own society, where every choice echoes through history.

In the pantheon of interactive storytelling, Herald is both a period drama and a timeless parable. Its flaws are undeniable, but its strengths—its courage to tackle uncomfortable truths, its artistry, and its unflinching humanity—secure its place as a landmark title. For fans of narrative-driven games or those seeking a game that challenges as much as it entertains, Herald is not just a voyage worth taking; it’s an essential one. As the Rani might say, “Tell me your story—and then, tell me mine.” In doing so, Herald ensures that no voice is ever truly silenced.