The Incident at Galley House is a much more approachable game than Type Help. You probably won't get too stuck right at the start of Incident, as many players got stuck in Type Help, unable to figure out how to get started. Many players of Type Help didn't realize that they needed to take careful notes and essentially build out a spreadsheet. In Incident, you don't have to do that, because the game automatically tracks everything in its own spreadsheet. And Incident is graphical, most of its presentation in a visual-novel format. Nobody will be put off from Incident by virtue of the game being all text. You can play Incident with a standard game controller, using a "machine" (a UI toy). Type Help is best played with a keyboard and mouse.
That's all well and good, I suppose. (I found the "machine" more annoying to operate than Type Help, even/especially when I did have a mouse; the time-code dial is too finicky for my taste.)
But I mostly want to talk about the frame story, the story around the story of the game.
The main core story of Incident is word-for-word exactly the same as Type Help. Talking about what's changed, especially in the frame story, requires giant spoilers, for both Type Help AND Incident.
Before I begin that discussion, I want to mention a mild spoiler about Type Help, something you may not have entirely uncovered even if you "won" Type Help, involving @, who provides commentary throughout the game.
Read this first: (Spoiler - click to show)If you've won Type Help, you unlocked 00-final-note, but there's there's another secret 00 file to unlock, with another hidden secret in it. You can use my hint guide to find it, if you haven't already.
And now, major spoilers for Type Help.
(Spoiler - click to show)The core twist of Type Help and Incident is the thunderclap.
When someone dies by thunderclap, almost everyone completely forgets that the dead person ever existed. Everyone's minds fill in the gaps with plausible details (as plausible as possible), and they tend to avoid thinking too hard about the gaps that are really inexplicable.
But, inevitably, someone will remember the person who most recently died, and then their memories all come flooding back (including remembering that they didn't remember the person briefly, which is usually pretty upsetting in its own right). Whoever remembers the previously dead person will die by thunderclap a few minutes later, making a "chain" of people.
(It's never revealed in the story why the thunderclaps happen, or how they work; the characters call it a "curse." It certainly seems supernatural.)
The curse makes it difficult for characters inside the story to reason out what's happening, and, in the structure of the game, it makes it more difficult for the player to logic out what happened. The player naturally assumes that if John knows something at 06, he will continue to know it at time 07; if he says that he doesn't know something, the player assumes that John must be lying to cover up a secret.
In Type Help, this ties back to the frame story of @, the previous owner of the laptop that you're exploring. @ is lonely. @ has no friends, no family, nobody who cares about him, and in 00-final-note, @ has come to realize what has happened to him and why. Someone (a commanding officer, perhaps) must have assigned @ the job precisely because @ has no one in the world who cares about him.
@'s loneliness manifests in @ behaving in all sorts of weird and creepy ways. He puts all sorts of weird personal emotional stuff in his commentary, because he has no one to talk to, no one to tell it to except these notes.
The most glaringly creepy is the hangman game with no "correct" letters, inevitably ending in an ASCII drawing of a hanged man, with the message, "You did your job. The world is safer now."
But surely the creepiest of all is the hidden file 00-dream, which you can only find by guessing the file based on his mentioning "the dead bodies strewn about like in that terrifying dream I mentioned" in 21-CH-3.
00-dream does not describe dead bodies strewn about; it simply includes the lyrics of Because of You by Lee Sims, and its player piano code "43092". You can use that to find the YouTube version of the player-piano playing the song, a cheerful, upbeat tune.
Self-playing "player pianos" are inherently creepy in their own right. The keys are moving as if the piano is being played by a ghost. They're often not tuned perfectly, creating an eerie dissonance in their performance. Secret player pianos figure regularly in parlor-room murder mysteries, where the characters wrongly assume that if the piano was playing, someone must have been playing it, when, in fact, the piano was playing itself.
And there's something kinda sad and lonely about player pianos. You're listening to a machine mechanically perform a piano piece, instead of making a real connection to the performer and their performance.
Furthermore, @ has hidden a secret in 00-dream: he's italicized some of the letters. If you transcribe them, they spell out iaMricHaRDloNglEY. Once you realize, as the player, what you're doing, you've realized that you've doomed yourself. Now you remember Richard Longley. Now you are the next person to die in the chain, and perhaps countless others will die after you because of it. You could have stopped once you'd spelled out iamrichar, but you just couldn't help yourself, could you? You just had to know, and now look what you've done?!
In Incident, the frame story has completely changed.
(Spoiler - click to show)In Incident, you start at the front door of Galley House; the door is locked. You read the newspaper, and the door is unlocked. Inside, there's a note on the machine, and then there isn't, and then there's a new note. Whenever you look away from the machine (to crank the generator), something has changed.
As it unfolds, you discover that your character, Reya, arrived at Galley House with a bunch of people. The door didn't unlock itself. The other people unlocked it. But then they got thunderclapped, one by one, and so the game plays out from the thunderclapped perspective, notes magically appearing on the machine that were, in fact, directly handed to you by people you can no longer remember.
A nifty premise! But… there's something implausible about it, especially the scan of the "Prototype Machine" in the evidence. When you first look at that scan, there's no one in that photo at all. Then, when you discover scenes involving Sam Moors, he starts appearing in the photo, when he wasn't there before.
Then, later, when you discover Ervin Dolsky, he doesn't just appear in the photo; he also suddenly starts appearing in the machine. Scenes where he didn't appear, suddenly he does appear. This leads you to discover that he's intentionally chaining people together to try to clean up all the loose ends, ending with himself.
This makes no sense; that's not how the curse works. The thunderclap doesn't force people ignore physical evidence of the person's existence. Martha saw photos of her husband, and saw him in those photos. (If it forced people to ignore physical evidence, they'd presumably have to ignore the handed-off notes themselves.)
After discovering (and presumably remembering) Ervin, Reya doesn't then die. Reya sets the house on fire, permanently ending the chain. The Incident at Galley House has a melancholy but hopeful ending. Perhaps now, the entire chain has truly been put to rest.
Ervin Dolsky is sort of a creepy loner, but he's not alone; he's a a murderer who has several friends and colleagues, and he kills them one by one to save the world. He gives a tragic but villainous suicidal monologue in his final scene.
The theme of Richard's true loneliness, of the ineffectual creepiness that his loneliness inspires in him, is completely gone. Ervin accomplishes all of his goals. Richard accomplished nothing, not even saving the world, because we went digging through his laptop.
Playing Type Help feels like being Richard Longley. Playing Incident doesn't feel like being Reya.
Creepy horror stories end with a surprising but inevitable twist that the horror is still out there. Type Help does that; Incident doesn't.
In conclusion, Incident is still very good, but almost everything good about it comes from Type Help.
This is a very large game, with a lot of puzzles. But none of the puzzles felt especially cool. The game felt to me like an affordable all-you-can-eat buffet, where you can eat your fill of decent but unmemorable food.
Most of my feedback here is negative; I think I'd give it four stars if issues like the ones below were fixed.
The game begins with this "note for the player":
This adventure game is very much "old school" in that the gameplay involves having to SEARCH objects and/or LOOK BEHIND, IN or UNDER objects to find objects that you will need during the game. You might also have to EXAMINE WALL to find something on it. The game is also quite long and there is the possibility of sudden death. There is also some mild adult content.
If you do not like this style of adventure gameplay then regrettably this game may not be for you.
I don't think it's right to characterize this approach to SEARCH as "old school." None of the Zork games use the verb SEARCH. A few Infocom games like Ballyhoo support SEARCH as an alternate way to LOOK IN something that's obviously a container, but you never need to SEARCH stuff to find something hidden.
I generally object to SEARCH as a "puzzle" mechanic because it's inherently boring. Most parser games already require you to exhaustively EXAMINE every notable thing in every room. In games that require SEARCH, there's usually no clue/hint about what you need to search, so you just have to SEARCH everything after you've EXAMINEd it. What's the point?
I've said elsewhere that, in my opinion, a good puzzle solution should be surprising but inevitable in hindsight. Ideally, I won't immediately see the solution to the puzzle, but once I figure out the solution, I'll slap my forehead and say "ah, I should have known!" SEARCH puzzles are never like that. Once I know that the solution is to SEARCH every notable object, finding something when I SEARCH is never surprising or delightful.
But this game makes it that much worse, because you don't just have to SEARCH everything. You also have to LOOK UNDER and LOOK IN things, when SEARCH should have accomplished that.
In Longhouse
You are in the village longhouse, where the people of Starhollow gather for socialising. There are lots of tables, chairs and benches for people to sit on. Double doors lead Out to the lane outside and the kitchen is to the West.> x tables
What villagers sit at when eating meals or playing games, etc. On one of the tables you see some food.> search tables
You search the tables but find nothing of interest.> look under tables
You look under one of the tables and find a length of thin rope, which you pick up.
You can't get out of the starting village of Starhollow without finding a bunch of mandatory items this way. It makes interacting with the game feel like a huge slog. Every time you see a thing, you must first EXAMINE it, then SEARCH it, then LOOK IN/LOOK UNDER it, over and over and over. When I got stuck, it usually turned out that there was something I'd remembered to SEARCH but forgotten to also LOOK at using the right preposition.
About 60% of the way through the game, you'll encounter a mermaid, silently beckoning to you as she swims underwater. You can't follow her at first; you have to solve a puzzle to get to her underwater grotto.
When you get to her grotto, she gives you an important quest item. Then, she magically turns her tail into legs, and immediately and automatically has sex with you, in a "fade to black" sex scene with no detail or interactivity.
(Spoiler - click to show)Underground Grotto
You are standing in a grotto deep underground. The mermaid that you saw earlier is sitting on a rock nearby. The walls of the grotto sparkle from thousands of jewels that are embedded in the rock. The water in the grotto glows brightly with a soft white light that reflects off the walls of the grotto.
"Welcome to my grotto," the mermaid greets you in a bubbly kind of voice. "I expect you are wondering why I asked you here?" she says, enigmatically.
"Yes," you reply. "I did wonder why I am here?"
"I know why you are here, Alyas of Starhollow," she tells you. "The thief has taken the Pipe of Rummkub to the sorcerer who lives in the castle aboveground, the evil Xarkzis. If you wish to defeat him and recover the Pipe, you will need this charm, the Amulet of Acara, as protection against magic spells."
She takes an amulet from where it was hanging on a thong around her neck, hands it to you and you hang it around your neck. "Whatever you do, never take it off," she warns you.
Your eyes then go wide as her fish-like tail shimmers mysteriously and transforms into two shapely legs. She gets to her feet, walks over to you and puts her hands around your neck.
"Now, Alyas of Starhollow; I am Thalassa and I am in need of a man," she says, kissing you on the lips and pressing her voluptuous naked body against yours, evoking an instant reaction from yourself. You then retire to Thalassa's chambers and fulfil her needs.
After a couple of hours of love making you both fall asleep.
When you wake up, you find yourself laying on the grass by the round pond next to your clothes. You get to your feet and put them on.
I don't think this level of adult content will please anybody.
I think many players will be turned off by automatically having sex with a mermaid we just met, without even a "(y/n)" question to decide whether to participate.
Players who do find this sexual encounter rewarding will prefer more explicit detail. Adult IF is a thing people enjoy; if you want to write it, then write it. But a "fade to black" sex scene that starts by surprise and ends on a single, non-interactive page is, I claim, nobody's cup of tea.
Even the bit of detail we get about this scene only characterizes the mermaid as an object of sexual desire. Is Alyas sexy? If so, the game has literally nothing to say about that. If you're not into having sex with women, there is nothing for you here.
I think the author intended this scene to be a "reward" to the player for playing this far, but I found it unrewarding. Anyone who wants romance in their AIF, anyone who wants explicit detail in their AIF, anyone who wants interactivity in their AIF, and anyone who's not into sex with women will be unrewarded.
The game has hundreds of rooms; the map is divided into zones. Progressing to the next "zone" is normally the primary objective in each area.
Leaving the first zone, the village of Starhollow, the game's narrator intervenes, refusing to let you leave unless you have all of the mandatory items. ("There's something that was in your yort that you haven't got.")
But the game will cheerfully let you forget to bring objects from the very next zone. You can just miss the ball of string, hop on a ferry to the far side of the lake, and you'll be completely stuck, unable to finish the game, and unable to figure out why you can't finish the game.
This is so "cruel" in the Zarfian Cruelty Scale that I think it may have been a bug. If the narrator had said "There's something in the woods that you haven't got" when trying to board the ferry, that would have made the game much better.
We played this game (Release 1, 260628) at the SF Bay IF Meetup; we had to consult the walkthrough to win, due to parser issues.
Except for the parser issues, the puzzles were decent, and the game has its charms.
(Spoiler - click to show)
The puzzles were solid and fair, and I enjoyed the writing.
It's hard to talk about this game without spoilers, so...
(Spoiler - click to show)I loved the unfolding layers of the endings. It's a delightful common trope in heist stories that the heist turns out to be not what you think it is, and pulling it off twice is really fun.
I wish hints had covered all three parts of the game. I guess it's quite common to have hints only for the mandatory parts of a game, and no hints for the optional parts, but that's frustrating, because the optional parts are usually harder (and often less fair), so I'd encourage authors not to do it this way.
Another thought: having freedom of action at the end of the game to talk to the big Boss made me think there was a puzzle / easter egg to find there. I tried to EMPATHIZE with the Boss, but it gave me an inappropriate message, "You detect only vague impressions. The boss said that most of the robbers aren’t in a relationship, so that makes sense." The Boss isn't a robber, so that doesn't make sense.
I searched the strings of the game with glulx-strings and didn't see anything interesting to find there; I suggest not having that last turn, or to have one last easter egg worth finding.
I believe this game hasn't been beta tested. (No beta testers are credited.) That means the game is incomplete.
Room exits are unlabeled. The primary puzzle of the game is inexplicable. Even playing through near the walkthrough, I couldn't make sense of what the game's objective was supposed to be, or how to solve it.
The main puzzle puts you in contact with an item called "Untitled." Inexplicably, you have to (Spoiler - click to show)hit untitled to win the game.
I don't think this game can be solved without reading its walkthrough.
Good puzzles, fun NPCs. I particularly liked the interaction with (Spoiler - click to show)the moon at the end of the game.
It can be a little hard to notice items to pick up in the room descriptions (but I guess that's intentional on the author's part).
At the start of the game, you get assigned three cryptids to capture, with three clues each. Most of the clues are ambiguous, applying to more than one cryptid, and/or hard to interpret. You can (and should) review all of the cryptids and all of the photos before picking three of them to capture.
My first few tries, I got only 2 out of 3; only in the final attempt did I get 3 out of 3. The replying process felt frustrating, especially since the game doesn't tell you which cryptid you got wrong. At no point did I say, "oh, of course, I should have known that the right answer was X instead of Y."
There are plot choices in the ending, which was nice.
It's a ~5,000-word non interactive poem, with just a handful of words per line, across 1,742 lines.
The POV character is depressed, and finds day-to-day life pointless and meaningless. I felt like it made its point in the first 1,000 words.
The puzzles are pure self-contained puzzles, mostly word puzzles, mostly unconnected to the theme/story. The story is cute. We played it in a group and the SF IF Meetup, and we had a good time with it.
Be sure to play the Vorple version on the author's website, which includes fun font stuff and color changes.
This game was developed under time crunch as part of the IronCHIF competition. The prompt was "a scroll that alters the world around it." This game has that! And a ton of puzzles to solve. Puzzles interwoven on top of other puzzles.
My only complaint is the mechanic at the end game.
(Spoiler - click to show)Near the end of the game, you have to solve a bunch of puzzles via a sliding tiles puzzle. The game asks you to line up certain specific tiles all in a row, and it is an enormous pain in the butt to do it. There are tricks to solving it, but it's kinda like the Towers of Hanoi, where you have to count very carefully; if you mess it up, you'll ruin your own hard work.