Ratings and Reviews by Ghalev

So you're this guy. On a campus. And you've decided to burn some books. And that's entirely that. There is no game, no story, no puzzle, no comedy, no action, no adventure, no sudden twist, no gentle arc, no gotcha, no gimmick, no satire, and not much in the way of character. Most verbs (even verbs that would serve the work's intent) are left unimplemented (or quickly rebuffed). Some basic nouns (for example, BOOKS) are left out as well. The environment is sparse. There are some Muslims nearby, and the protagonist, while being challenged by the work to "have the guts" to burn their holy text (among others), can't even get up the nerve to talk to them about it or ask them any questions - commands like ASK MUSLIMS ABOUT THE KORAN (or indeed, any attempt to interact with them) are refused fearfully: the Muslims are too unsettling (according to the provided response) to interact with. Comparably, while you're allowed to burn the books (any and all of them), you're not allowed to read them. You've done enough of that already, the text tells you (gently contradicting the EXAMINE responses, which imply that you've not so much read them as suffered through some slanted lectures on them).

It's details like these, and not the response to the short series of book-burnings, that make the author's position unmistakably clear, and that's where this work succeeds entirely: along with no room for gameplay, no room for comedy, no room for satire and no room for perspective, there is no room for doubt and no room (or allowance, or invitation) for dialogue. The work's one room is packed floor to ceiling with exactly one thing: the author's desire to express one, simple sentiment. And it does that.

And that would be well and good (maybe even admirable), except it comes at the expense - in absolute terms - of any experience meant for anyone other than the author. Even if you agree wholeheartedly with the work's social position, there's still nothing implemented to entertain, puzzle, excite, stimulate or amuse you. It doesn't really fail at anything, because it doesn't even (to use the game's own term) have the guts to try.

I like easy puzzles … the kind where you poke at them a bit, feel confused for about fifteen seconds, remember to examine something obvious, and go aha! – then move along to the next one. Every puzzle in Pirate’s Plunder is exactly like that, and that makes me a happy little buccaneer. If you’re seeking challenging lateral thinking, Loot Island is not your vacation destination this year.

Pirate’s Plunder has character … arguably, a few-dozen ye’s, thars and harr’s too much character. Despite my sincere childish love of things cheesy and piratical (and this glass house I’m standing in, with rock in hand), I admit the game gave me a fight-or-flight response with the first few paragraphs. I decided to stick with it, and was rewarded … after awhile, I absorbed the intense barrage of faux-nautical lingo, and it felt just fine.

There are a few issues that make the game feel unpolished. Descriptions never seem to change, even when I’ve taken specific and game-meaningful action to change the thing described, resulting in some moments of confusion. The game’s determination to help the player along is similarly immune to the passage of time and event, and helpful suggestions to do something you’ve already done are pretty common. I also ran afoul of one colossal (though not actually game-breaking) bug, which led me to worry for a bit that I’d need to start over: (Spoiler - click to show)you must deal with an old nemesis, "summoned" by digging where X marks the spot ... but even once you've gotten rid of him, you can seem to summon him right back again if you repeat the DIG command - and the game won't let you get rid of him again! Eek.

But such niggles feel all niggly, because the bottom line is that Pirate’s Plunder feels a lot like a near-perfect little morsel of IF … just the right number of barriers for a quick (but not trivial) game, all of which feel appropriate to the setting and genre … piratey fun and silliness all over, and a playful willingness to bend heaven and earth to celebrate a ship’s boat full of requisite cliches. This brief game delivers pretty much exactly what it says on the tin, with a hearty “harr” and a joyous refusal to take itself seriously.

Note: This review is of the Gargoyle version, which the ReadMe implies may have some small differences from the main one.