Off The Record | The Bartender's Philosophy

Amy Taylor
Jan 15
2 min read

"There is no rock bottom. You can always dig deeper."

Off The Record | The Bartender's Philosophy

Welcome to Off The Record, our monthly peek behind the scenes of Hopetown. A look into the strange, shifting narrative RPG we’re building with far too many red strings pinned to our walls.

You can bury a lot underground. Doesn’t mean it stays put. In Hopetown, the truths that people whisper after midnight are often more revealing than anything they print. This transcript was found scrawled on the back of an old bar menu from The Lowest Point — the kind of place where rumours, regrets, and spilled drinks all share the same sticky surface.

Before you dive into this developer interview, don’t forget to wishlist Hopetown on Steam to follow development and help us reach more players.

Filed Under: Recovered Testimonies, Personal Accounts, Unverified Sources.

Author: Unknown — transcription verified via artefact ID #LP-731.

Status: Undistributed.

They say the trick to tending bar is knowing when to listen and when to pretend you didn’t hear a damn thing. I think that’s most of life really, just selective hearing dressed up as wisdom.

You’d be surprised what people confess once they’ve had a few. The miners talk of things that don’t hold true in the light of day. Those of a more bureaucratic disposition talk about dividends and divine right, which might be the same thing. They all end up here, in The Point, where the ceiling drips and the clock’s been wrong for ten years.

I used to think this place was the bottom — until I realised there is no bottom, only deeper. Every story has another layer if you’ve got the nerve to keep digging, and the patience to stop before you hit something alive.

What I’ve learned, pouring drinks for the damned, is that everyone’s got a truth they want to sell and a lie they drink to forget. Me? I trade in both. Cheap. I keep the glasses clean, the rumours cleaner, and when someone asks what I believe in, I tell them:

I believe in equilibrium.

Not justice, not mercy. Just the quiet balance between the pour and the spill. Because in this town, balance is all we get before the floor gives way again.

Closing Note

Sometimes the smallest voices in Hopetown tell you the most about the world — a miner, a bartender, a clerk with a short memory and a long night ahead. Their stories don’t make the headlines, but they’re what the world is built on.

What you’ve just read is part of a growing archive of recovered fragments — personal accounts, corrupted transmissions, and unverified testimonies — slowly pieced together to form the story of Hopetown.