Climbing Higher Than The Pitchforks
# Climbing Higher Than The Pitchforks
I opened this episode by joking that if you bring up AI art on the internet, the pitchforks arrive right on time. Then we dove into a story I love because it feels familiar to anyone who has ever stumbled into building something bigger than a class project. Dylan and Josh, the duo behind Echoes of El Doria, started in a high school Technology Student Association competition. Violence was against the rules, so the dungeon crawler they imagined became a 2D puzzle platformer about climbing, timing, and small wins stacked on each other. The origin already says a lot. Constraints didn’t shut them down. They redirected.
They carried that momentum into college. The team that once had six narrowed to two, and the responsibilities became real. Music? Josh composes it. Art direction? Dylan drives it. Production? Both of them. They launched a Steam page, shipped a demo, and watched a few creators pick it up. The numbers are honest, not flashy, and that honesty fueled the conversation. We compared notes on marketing advice, including the now famous wishlist targets you hear from folks like Chris who lives on every podcast feed. We talked Next Fest timing, why releasing right after a flood of demos can bury you, and how sometimes the smartest move is pushing a date so the game can breathe.
We also poked the hornet’s nest a bit. Dylan asked about using AI in graphic design. I shared my take. I’m not a painter. I’m a builder who often needs pictures to think. For concepting, for iterating, for getting the vibe right before someone sinks days into final art, those tools help. They are not a replacement for a dedicated artist’s eye. In their case Dylan used AI like a fast duplicator for platform tiles after he first established the exact style. The vision still came from him. The polish still came from him. The tool saved time so they could keep momentum.
## What stood out / lessons learned
The first thing that hit me is how much a game can become a personal collage. Josh started piano at six and now composes the soundtrack. He learned video editing in middle school and now frames scenes with a cinematographer’s brain. Dylan’s vector graphics chops turned into UI instincts and a consistent look. When you zoom out, Echoes of El Doria isn’t just a student project. It is their timeline stitched together into one climbable mountain.
I keep coming back to that image of platform tiles. Dylan builds the first one carefully, then uses a tool to repeat the pattern so they can spend their time on the next surprise. That is good game design and good entrepreneurship. Build the first tile with taste. Systematize what repeats. Spend the saved energy on the new idea that earns a player’s second look. The more you do that, the less the marketplace feels like a wall and the more it feels like the sort of climb you actually chose.
So here is my nudge to anyone listening who is somewhere between a school project and a real release. Start telling the story sooner. Let people watch you learn. Borrow tools without borrowing your identity. If a comment stings, mine it for the one sentence that helps you ship better. Keep a doc, keep a date, and keep the small wins coming when the big tasks feel heavy. That is how Echoes of El Doria is being built. That is how most indie games that matter are built.
If you want to share your own climb, join the Discord. I want more voices and more messy middle stories on the show. Dylan and Josh will keep posting, keep iterating, and keep surprising their own game into being. I will be watching their page, and yes, wishlisting. If you are an indie dev in that same stage, I am rooting for your next tile.
## What we talked about
We covered their TSA origin story, the shift to a two person team in college, composing original music, hands on art direction, Steam demo feedback, Next Fest timing, wishlist realities, and a pragmatic approach to AI for art replication after the style is set.
Episode Info
The second thing is the shift from competition judging to the real market. A rubric forgives rough edges. A storefront does not. When they compare their demo to polished indie hits on Steam, imposter syndrome sneaks in. That feeling is common and useful. It keeps the bar moving. The trick is not letting it freeze your hands. Their solution is simple and smart. Keep a living doc of fixes. Ship another background. Rework a level that teaches without a wall of text. Prioritize, then let yourself do one low stakes polish task when your brain is fried. Progress compounds when you alternate heavy lifts with quick wins.
Next, marketing is not a last mile task. It is product design in public. Dylan and Josh came to that realization the hard way, like most of us. They started watching the right videos a little late, then noticed how timing, thumbnails, and a two minute creator video can move more wishlists than a month of quiet work. We traded stories about release windows, how the New and Trending refresh behaves, and the simple truth that one viral clip can compress six months of growth into a weekend. None of that is guaranteed. What is guaranteed is that nobody can discover something you never show. Build in public earlier. Treat TikTok and YouTube shorts like level design for attention. The first ten seconds must teach the viewer how to play the rest of the clip.
Another thing that stood out is how they use AI without losing authorship. The heat around AI often comes from a fear that the tool replaces intention. Here the intention is intact. Dylan sets the style, locks the silhouette, then uses the tool to replicate repetitive elements so he can move back to the parts only he can do. That mirrors how engineers lean on engines, how musicians lean on digital instruments, and how small teams survive at all. If you have a clear vision, tools amplify it. If you do not, tools amplify the confusion. The responsibility is the same as always. Own the taste, not just the buttons.
Lastly, they live the calendar reality of student founders. Some weeks you sprint until five in the morning. Some weeks you touch code for five minutes. I respect that they said it out loud. Momentum for small teams is a scheduling problem disguised as motivation. They are solving it with proximity, quick check ins, and a shared doc. A spreadsheet will join the party soon, which is a sign they are treating the final stretch like a shipping run, not a vibe.
## My closing thoughts
I left the conversation feeling the same way I felt finishing their demo. This thing climbs. It does not coast. It does not apologize. It teaches you one mechanic, then asks for a clean decision, then raises the angle a little. That is how indie development feels when you are doing it right. Decide, execute, learn, then raise the angle.
