The Magician’s Workshop
By Kate Heartfield
☆☆☆☆☆ (5/10)
Oh, Kate Heartfield. How I wanted to love The Magician’s Workshop—and not because we have the same first name! I loved her last work, The Road to Canterbury, and though there were a couple glaring flaws, I could excuse those. First project issues, and besides, the writing was lyrical enough to cover up any holes. However, The Magician’s Workshop has the same issues as Heartfield’s first work—and doesn’t include any significant improvement. Her writing, premise, and setting are fantastic as ever, but there are major problems with the ROs, ending, and surprisingly, stat system. As always, thank you to the staff for giving me a free copy.
Pros:
The setting is one of my favorites: Florence ruled by the Medici in the sixteenth century. Doesn’t everyone have one random time period they fixated on in middle school? The Medici family, with all their cunning, wealth, and politicking, were mine. (Caveat: this interest was helped by the Netflix show.) Heartield captures my impression of Florence expertly: she lingers on the feeling on walking down cobbled streets as vendors peddle their wares; the careful process of selecting materials and planning how to paint a fresco; the way clothing signals status and respectability; and how survival and success hinge on who funds you. As a result, Florence itself takes on a cinematic quality—dreamy, sun-warmed, and beautiful, yet always shadowed by the anxiety of patronage and precarity. It’s the Florence of movies, where artistry and desperation exist side by side.
Excellent use of historical figures. I delighted in the cast, specifically Giovanni de Medici, Lucrezia de Medici, Alfonsina Orsini, Henrique of Kongo, Judah Leon Abravanel, Girolamo Savonarola, and of course, our dear uncle figure Niccolò Machiavelli. Ironically, these figures are more alive than the actual ROs (more on that later). These are real people, but they’re rendered with a sharpness and clarity that stands out. Giovanni is charming, politically agile, and acutely aware of how power moves through art, religion, and money. Machiavelli is just what you imagine him to be—a practical, observant mind fond of the Socratic method. However, Heartfield gentles him by portraying him as a close family friend, one who will smuggle you out of trouble. Lucrezia and Alfonsina are literal #girlbosses, women who act as political actors, who understand the limits placed on them and the leverage still available within those constraints.
Fun and clear magic system. Usually, magic systems are hand-waved off as plot devices. I hate when this happens. Gimmie rules and systems to center the narrative. Thankfully, Heartfield goes into much detail. Soothsaying, alchemy, and animation are not treated as flashy powers, but as disciplines rooted in Renaissance beliefs about the natural world. Soothsaying feels less like predicting the future and more like interpreting signs—patterns, omens, probabilities. It’s cautious and indirect, avoiding the deus ex machina. Alchemy is similarly grounded, as it ironically follows the Law of Conservation of Matter. It isn’t about conjuring something from nothing, but about transformation and finding proper materials. Animation, when it appears, is framed as delicate and limited—an extension of intent rather than brute force. Objects respond imperfectly. Control is never absolute.
Cons:
Too many stats. I never have this problem, but in The Magician’s Workshop, I was actively checking the stats screen every page. First, you have three main magic stats, six skills, six traits, a whopping thirteen relationships, and four Reputation/Respect bars. Second, you have a resource management subplot. You’ll have to manage health, workshop morale, workshop resources, and money. Third, each choice requires a specific combination of stats. Instead of giving you more freedom, you feel constrained because you’re haven’t chosen the exact stats the author wanted. For a small, easy example, there are three choices to convince your stubborn donkey to keep walking. Let’s say the choices are (1) an Animation/Stubbornness check, (2) a Charming/Confidence check, and (3) a Dexterity/Strength check. Well, I failed all of these! I focused on Soothsaying, Caution, Reasoning, and Artistry. My problem isn’t with failing—but that I didn’t even have the chance to succeed. This issue comes up many times, and it made me feel like I built the “wrong” character or that the game couldn’t be bothered to take into account my build and choices.
Too many plotlines to juggle. This is the big one. The game asks you to manage five major projects plus a fresco plus some mysterious machine. You can only choose three projects, along with the fresco. You also are forced to choose how you manage your time. In addition, there’s a political subplot (support democracy or the Medici), another political subplot (if you want to be the next Master), family drama subplot, a criminal subplot, and a mysterious stranger subplot (that went nowhere, in my game). Heartsfield had a grand idea for how these intricate plot threads would coalesce but doesn’t give you the space to engage with any of it meaningfully. You’re constantly switching focus, checking stats, and wondering which of the ten competing pressures is actually going to matter in the next choice. You end up feeling constrained and spread too thin as the narrative rushes ahead without focusing on each topic.
Flat ROs. I kid you not, the third choice involving your co-magicians are “how do you feel about them?” Ah, drat, that blasted choice. I could excuse this once, but it happened again. Your first interaction with an RO that is your childhood friend again asks, “What is your backstory with them? How do you feel?” AND THEN, when you approach a daring thief RO, you are once again—you guessed it—how you feel about them. The ROs, in general, are paper thin. There are no dating scenes at all. There’s one or two flirt options, but that’s about it. There are five ROs but not enough time to actually talk to any of them; I managed maybe three meaningful exchanges with two of the five. At the end of the game, you get to ask someone to accompany you if you decide to leave the city. I focused on one (1) RO and still got turned down. At this point, I did not care what happened to me.