I am fairly familiar with Flatland, but only had a brief glance at Fallen London prior to this game. Flattened London is a truly delightful mash-up of the two. Featuring a consistent, weird, and lovingly created world that shines of respect for its inspirational material, it offers some of the most intriguing exploration. In this world, most everything is strange, but naturally so. It also remains mostly unexplained, but also naturally so.
Both the writing and the puzzles are impeccable, and fit right in, both in the narrative and in the world. Descriptions are just as detailed as they should be, and almost everything has been implemented thoughtfully. Although puzzles are slightly on the easy side, they are fun, and there are enough of them to delight and amuse; most of them can be worked on in parallel. It also seemed pretty clear that there are several ways to solve several of the puzzles, and there are several possible endings. In the end, I managed to reach a particularly enjoyable one in just over two hours. All through this I only stumbled on a few minor issues with the implementation, which is greatly impressive for a game of this size.
In Captivity, you start off as the fair maiden locked in the tower, but in contrast to most fairy tales, the boys trying to rescue you are completely useless. You need to make your own escape. To do so takes you (or at least me) around two hours, most of which are spent searching up and down the castle for various hidden objects. Some of these objects are only there after performing another action first, which means you may need to search everywhere twice or thrice. The problem with such puzzles is that they are not gratifying; what you get from them is merely the relief that you finally can proceed. To be fair, these are not the only puzzles in the game, though the rest are fairly obvious.
As far as fairy tales go, Captivity carefully balances traditional storytelling with a modern perspective, and does this pretty well. There are only sporadic touches of humour here, which makes it all the more effective, though there are not really any astoundingly funny moments either. Its strongest aspect is probably the various colourful characters you can talk to, who are all decently implemented.
The castle is relatively big, so it is no surprise that a lot of rooms are lacking relevant scenery, such as windows, or that things described are not implemented as objects. This, along with a few bugs here and there, do unfortunately hinder the immersion that I find is necessary to enjoy a fairy tale.
BYOD is a very short parser game, with an estimated playthrough of about 10 minutes, but it packs a lot of coolness into that time. Coming complete with an .nfo and an e-zine, this game puts you in the shoes of a humble hacker and lets you save the day. The feelies are fantastic, the hacking is elegant, and the implementation is flawless. Great stuff!
Another piece of puzzleless parser IF, though I’m not sure I understood this one. Then again, perhaps I’m not supposed to. What seems to be wayward in The Wayward Story is the story itself. Alternating between mystical, adventurous places and familiar everyday situations, it certainly lives up to its billing as “surreal / slice of life”. The narrative seems to be the essential thing here, and the writing is pretty good, with a rather unique voice and embroidered descriptions of that which seemingly is deemed important. I’m afraid the story didn’t provide we with much though. However, playing through it took me only 20 minutes, while the estimated playtime is 90 minutes, which means I might just have missed out on large parts of it. On the other hand, I never felt that I left anything significant unexplored. If anyone should tell me that there is much more to it, I may give it another chance, otherwise I’m satisfied, even if not entirely convinced.
Having just finished Ferryman’s Gate, I’m suddenly worried that my use of commas in previous reviews are not entirely up to standards. I will, however, resist the temptation to spend the night going through them, and instead do my best to make sure at least this review is as well punctuated as I can manage.
Several of the elements in this game are fairly stereotypical: an inherited mansion, secret passageways, and a sacred task that only you can take on. Still, as an educational game, Ferryman’s Gate makes good use of them, allowing you to focus on the important things, such as comma rules.
Although somewhat under-implemented, I did enjoy it, and learned something underway, which probably means that its mission is accomplished.
Written entirely in javascript by the author, Happyland is a showcase for a custom parser engine initially inspired by both Infocom games and choose-your-own-adventure books. It has been developed beyond that, however, and sports functionality almost on par with games written in Inform or TADS. Lacking some fairly standard verbs, such as pull and move, your interaction with Happyland is confined to walking, talking, taking and examining, though it also features a neat system for taking and comparing fingerprints.
Considering the importance of asking questions in an investigation like this, character responses are very brief and to the point, which makes for simpler deduction but takes away some of the immersion; you never get much of a deep understanding of the characters. The same goes for descriptions of rooms and objects. As a puzzle, it is quite simple and straightforward; visiting all the locations and talking to all the characters makes it obvious who the murderer is. Nothing is well hidden either, and there are no red herrings to speak of. In the end it took me less than an hour to complete. It was not particularly challenging, but rather enjoyable nonetheless.
A lot of science fiction literature makes use of concepts that cannot be appropriately described in the vocabulary of the present, and demands an inductive approach; just go along with it, and it will become more or less clear as the story progresses. Accelerate is bordering on linguistic overload in this sense. Add to that a horde of strange metaphors and you have an “enormous piece of extravagantly confusing art”, to use a quote embedded in the work itself.
While it was occasionally hard to understand the protagonist or the context in a given situation, the story is actually relatively clear: you become indoctrinated into a cult of religious terrorists and attempt to bring forth some kind of revolution. In this, you have no agency. Perhaps you have no choice.
Regarding it as a gesamtkunstwerk, my feelings are varied. Its strongest point is definitely the writing; Accelerate reads like a modern sci-fi classic, only more poetic, though I would have had an easier time accepting it if I had sensed more coherence between the different contexts. As it is, I often felt I found myself in a new situation, not understanding how I got there, which also compromised the connection between the player and the protagonist. The visual presentation was the most lacking element of Accelerate. With a plain interface and simple animations, it brought thoughts of the 1990’s, rather than of the future. The music, on the other hand, was nice and appropriate; most of it I would describe as cyberpunk muzak, although at times it became uncomfortably brutal.
It’s hard to say much about A Rope of Chalk without revealing any spoilers, but it certainly is a masterful implementation of exemplary interactive storytelling. I would hardly call it a game; rather, it is parser fiction proper – a story that would not have been as good if told through any other medium. Framed as a true story edited together by the author from individual statements, it recounts an event that is rather trivial from the outside but had a drastic effect on the characters involved. Throughout the narrative, the interaction lets you experience this event from the perspective of several of these characters, in various states of consciousness. Although essentially puzzleless, navigation eventually becomes a hassle, though in a particularly interesting way. I would not necessarily say that I loved it, but I am mightily impressed.
A particularly well implemented parser game, Entangled is primarily a social realist sci-fi story. The emphasis is on getting to know and understand a typical small town and how it has changed through the years rather than about actually solving puzzles. Actually, in this case there is only a single puzzle: how to get back to your own time. I got the impression that there may be more than one way to achieve this, but it doesn’t seem to matter much. My solution took me to the end in about half an hour.
Exploration is key to understanding the game, but although I felt that I did it quite thoroughly, my final score was only half of the maximum number of points. This probably means I missed out on quite a few details. Regardless, as a story narrated through a parser interface, I regard Entangled as largely successful. Mainly through talking with other characters, who all have a rich set of responses to all sorts of questions, you get a good glimpse of the hopes, dreams and situations of the town’s inhabitants. There were a few things I did not understand, in particular at the very end, but I still quite enjoyed the story.
In any case, the implementation of this game is certainly minimalist. With extremely sparse descriptions and mostly empty rooms, Elsegar I is part frustration and part charm. The puzzles are very straightforward in themselves, though they are made slightly harder through a strict parser constantly having you guess both verbs and nouns. At one point, you even have to repeat an action before it has an effect; this was for me the most difficult point in the game and made me consult the walkthrough. No estimated play time is mentioned; it took me around 25 minutes to finish, albeit with less than a full score.
The writing has quite a few typos, so even if the minimalist approach is an artistic choice, a lot of polish is still needed. As for the story, who knows? The player starts in a peculiar situation, but no answers are given throughout the game. I guess they will come in Elsegar II.