Ratings and Reviews by Rovarsson

Immediately upon pressing any button to start, Marika the Offering throws the player into the suspense. A meticulously described room, an ever so slight hint at a backstory, and a pressing sense of urgency.

>"The air is musty and offends my nostrils. My remaining life can be measured in heartbeats. I must act!"

As is evident from the quote above, the game is written in the first person. Readers/players may differ in their interpretation of this. For me, whereas the second person invites a feeling of complicity or of teamwork, the first person elicits a dramatic distance from the character. More like an unseen co-author or even puppetmaster than an agent within the story. In IF, this makes me experience the text more like an engaged reader than an active player. In this story, I found this worked very well, as it focused my attention on the emotions and the internal struggle of the character Marika.

On the opening screen, the player is told she can access the backstory to the game at any point by typing STORY. After a few exploratory moves, I decided to do so. I was treated to several pages worth of exxposition. Those opposed to reading long chunks of text in their games might want to skip this. I'm not, and I enjoyed it. A rather standard horror/fairytale setup which doesn't do anything too original, but it's engagingly written, it sheds some light on the protagonist's background, her relations with other people from her village, and it offers some insight into why Marika came to be in her present situation.

The game itself consists of a clever inversion of the standard escape-room genre. Other reviews will provide more information for those who want it.

I want to draw more attention to the incredibly high standard of craftsmanship involved in the making of Marika the Offering. The gameplay is so smooth that it might not be immediately apparent how finely tuned some of the design decisions actually are.

--There is no TAKE. Justified, since this is a one-room game. After careful examination of the surroundings, all necessary objects are visible and available for manipulation. Likewise, INVENTORY is unnecessary. The response to this command stays nicely within the flow of the story by pointing out that you want to keep your hands free for any unexpected events.
--The entire game revolves around changing the state of this one room you're in. The opening screen immediately gives the player a rather lengthy and detailed description of the space. What is remarkable, at least once one pays attention to it, is how seamlessly alterations to the game-state are incorporated into this description. All the changes still result in a spontaneous text, without stutterings or hesitations when reading. Again, this is done so smoothly that is is hardly noticeable, until one compares the quality of Marika's evolving room-description with some less-successful examples.

A good horror story, not original in content but nigh-on perfect in execution.

In a bid to outperform the silliness of the classic SciFi B-movies from the era of "The Attack of the 50ft Whatever From Outer Space", The Underoos that Ate New York brings you, yes, an assortment of clothing, mildly to lethally disgruntled (depending on the piece of clothing) by passing too close to a meteorite the day before. Slobby bachelor that you are, you probably wouldn't even mind hanging around naked in your flat, were it not for your date with Cindy.

Time to hunt down your clothes!

TUTANY brings us: "My Crappy Apartment"... FROM SPACE! And it relies completely on the over-the-top zaniness its premise provides. A miniscule map (5 rooms), 5 items of clothing to subdue and put on, simple but rewarding puzzles. All of it driven forward by a breathless sense of urgency.

The locations are sparse but adequately implemented, there is a bunch of gratuitous silliness, and before the chuckle dries up in your throat the joke's over, you're dressed and ready to go out with Cindy.

Quick fun!

A good while ago, while sipping frothy ale in a local tavern, I got into a conversation with a large and manly man of the barbarian persuasion. From what little of his loudly bellowed and deeply soul-felt exhortations, I deduced his name to be Edgar the Hoity, although I cannot pledge to this. I felt sympathetic to his plight and offered to join him on his quest, for it was obvious that while he was certainly well-equipped in the brawn department, some assistance in the more, erm..., intellectually challenging portions of his pursuit might be warranted.

Indeed, in the words of the narrator of our quest (of whom I shall speak more later): "You consider the doxy's words, and furrow your brow in mild discomfort, for there are many syllables."

Having recently escaped from the undergound pits of the Slaver King, Edgar the Hoity (or some other fittingly barbaric name) had vowed to release the other slaves from their shackles, and to vanquish the evil Slaver King himself.

During our travels, it became apparent that it was well that I had volunteered to offer my aid to this fearsome warrior. Fortunately we encountered not many obstacles requiring deep thought or logical analysis, the most difficult being figuring out giving which of the many objects we found to whom, or at which time to revisit certain locations.
Rather, the most puzzling aspect of the quest for my barbarian friend was to choose the order in which to confront the many enemies that stood between him and the Slaver King himself. You see, as is to be expected with those proud and manly members of the barbarian tribes, Edgar the Hoity (or some other fittingly barbaric name) routinely overestimated his own physical prowess and battle-readiness, lunging forward barefistedly at the throat of any foe that stood in his way.
My greatest contribution therefore was observing the weaknesses of my barbarian friend's adversaries, suggesting to perhaps wear some armour and equip a weapon stronger than his fists, working out the order of the enemies from weakest to strongest. After this preparation, it was mostly a matter of pointing him in the right direction and releasing him.

It took some pains and patience to find the correct way in which to adress Edgar the Hoity (or some other fittingly barbaric name), for he only responded to sufficiently dramatic and action-laden verbs. For example, a simple suggestion to TAKE THE SWORD would be met with condescending grumbling. I had to propose that he SEIZE it instead. In the end though, once I had grown more accustomed to the heroic mindset, this narrow set of verbs greatly simplified our exchanges, eliminitating as it did the need for nuanced and detailed wording.

Among the many dangers we encountered on our quest, we were fortunate to also meet various helpful people, willing to trade information or equipment for simple services or needed objects. Indeed, my cheeks still blush at the recollection of "trading" with the very helpful town doxy, especially when we, thinking she might be hungry, tried to offer her an ear of corn which had lain abandoned on a farmer's field...

There is a surprising advantage to travelling with a questing barbarian. All our exploits were recounted aloud by an unseen narrator-voice as we were in the middle of the action. Rather than a dry account of events, this narrator had a flair for the dramatic, sweeping me along with the high-stakes heroic importance of our adventures, emphasising the historical impact of the battles and the far-reaching influence our actions would have on this realm.

It was with pride in my heart and tears on my cheeks that I saw my barbarian friend, Edgar the Hoity (or some other fittingly barbaric name) ride away on the Royal Road in search of new adventures and slaves to free.

This game is a very traditional fantasy quest played completely straight. Lots of classic tropes in there, none of them subverted or turned on their heads. I really like this sort of adventure, eschewing the irony or satire that is often added. It plays on my nostalgic tendencies.
(Mind you, I love reading more complex greyshaded fantasy too. And classic fantasy can be filled with some problematic tropes that are not sweetly nostalgic at all. But that’s another discussion. This game does none of that. Well, almost none, depending on your view on (Spoiler - click to show)dragon-slaughter)

The Fantasy Dimension is beautifully written. The locations get long paragraphs bringing the surroundings to the player’s mind’s eye. Fantasy has its solid collection of go-to settings, and this story does not try to get away from them. Indeed, it embraces those settings and draws them with a loving pen.

I particularly liked the descriptions of movement between locations, giving you a sense of real travel instead of zipping instantly from forest to castle.

I hesitate to call this a game. Rather, it is a near-puzzleless journey through the setting to fulfill the objective of your quest. Almost a walking simulator. As such, it is sorely lacking in depth. To hold the player’s attention and engagement, the world in such a work must be meticulously detailed. It is, in The Fantasy Dimension, but only in the initial descriptions. It would need much richer layers of implementation and perhaps some randomised scenes to bring more life and depth to the woods and the ruins.

I enjoyed this a lot, but a lot could be added to make it so much better.

A masterly example of sparse efficient writing. free bird relies on adjectives and nouns alone to paint the setting and the elements of note within it.

Without elaborate (or even short) sentences and turns of phrase, it highlights only those words that are crucial to the game. However, the game world feels rich and open because of the very clever choice of words and particularly of adjectives. An adjective-noun description of a sickly iguana reviving when its warm light is turned on triggers an entire story and a sequence of rich images in the mind in a lot less words than this paragraph I just wrote about it.

The puzzles are clever, it took me some time-outs to get the solution worked out in full. Because free bird is a click-based game, it would probably be possible to mechanically brute-force the solution a bit easier than it would be in a parser. But then, why would anyone play just to take the fun out of it…

Very clever use of language, nifty puzzles with limited resources.

A great protagonist accompanied by an interesting cast of supporting characters too. Again, despite (or thanks to, depending how you interpret it) the self-imposed language limits, their personalities are clear, with a few poignant details shining through to mark their most important traits.

I liked this very much.

What could be more comforting than sitting in front of a crackling fire, reading a book, sipping from a cup of steaming hot cocoa…

But it feels like something is behind the metaphorical curtains…

Very effective juxtaposition of atmospheres. Both the writing and the visual presentation draw the player into the intended moods, preserving a lingering taste of what the surroundings felt like before while submerging her into the present situation.

Some links could be elaborated upon a bit more. ((Spoiler - click to show)The effects of the drinks or the books for example.) On the other hand, having the choices not have much causative power does fit the premise.

It would be ruinous to divulge more. This is one to experience, eyes and ears and imagination wide open.

This game is based on an idea of mine that had been lingering in the back of my mind for a long time. SeedComp seemed like a perfect opportunity to put it out there and see what might come of it.
B.J. Best took the intro/starting room I wrote and ran with it, expanding my vague outline to a full-fledged puzzle game that far exceeded my expectations.


I loved it. I was teetering on that fine edge between challenge and frustration the whole time, without (and this is the brilliant bit) ever slipping into desperation. A feeling similar to playing MarioTM and falling from an unstable platform into a spiked hole for the sixteenth time, but still being convinced you’ll get it next time.

The puzzles require very careful observation and very thorough experimentation, but they follow a reliable cause-effect chain and are perfectly fair.

There are a bunch of independent timers and turn-based puzzles to tackle, lots of buttons and a myriad of levers and wheels. The more I discovered during playtesting, the more I stood in awe of the complex technical mechanisms under the hood.

I felt like I could completely put my trust in the game, and that any blockades I encountered were logically solvable. The pleasant frustration I had during play came from the feeling that I could almost touch the solution with my fingertips, almost grasp the mechanics underneath, but not quite yet.

----One more test, one more variable to check...
What happens if I pull this lever first?----

That's odd... The miniature globe you got from your great-aunt for your tenth birthday is stuck. It doesn't spin anymore. You lean in closer for a better look, and before you know it you're tumbling and twisting through dimensions...
When you come to, you're standing on the small world that is your toy-globe, your head high in the upper atmosphere, mountains and oceans mere details at your feet far below.

I like this "just because" leap of imagination. No magical powers or SF-ish technobabble to rationalise or justify the weird stuff. Just dive right in and roll with it.

There's a series of Calvin & Hobbes strips where Mr Watterson went for absurdity for absurdity's sake. For several days, the strip showed nothing but Calvin just growing bigger and bigger, until by the end of the week he was balancing on the curve of the earth with his head above the clouds. That image provided the visuals in my head while I was playing Small World.

The seemingly simple gimmick of sheer size completely changes the perspective on the game world. Movement on a non-rotating globe means you travel to different times of day, depending on where the sun is located. (For example, Noon is one step east of Morning.) Since all natural and man-made objects are tiny compared to you, you have no access to any everyday objects to help solve the puzzles. Better look around and find some stuff more fitting for your size...

Many of the locations have some evidence of human civilisation, for some reason wildly varying in historical time. A medieval witch-burning is happening in one location while your toes get bombarded with atomic bombs in another. Still, a pivotal bible-scene in one location and the appearance of the Devil himself as NPC help to loosely tie the story together thematically. "Loosely" being not strong enough a word to accurately describe it, but well...

The implementation and polish of Small World are impressive. Your examination and exploration of the world goes several layers deep, especially once you find the handy lens in your backpack. However small the lands at your feet may be, there's a lot of evidence of life and natural processes. Your little globe is not a static artefact at all.
The pesky Devil-NPC is not a deeply realised character, nor does he need to be. His continued presence and insistence you sign his contract make him as annoying as a mosquito zipping around your ears.

As for the puzzles, let's say a lot of them make about as much sense as the premise of the story. I had fun the whole time trying stuff and tinkering with the parts of the surroundings that I could influence, but I did need some help actually solving a lot of them.
Some are nice obstacles where you need to think outside the box a bit and repurpose certain objects. Most however require unfathomable leaps of the imagination and a large dose of moon-logic to stumble upon the solution. (Thank you @David_Welbourn for the great walkthrough. I would not have gotten the planetary ring without you.)

A little solar system of fun.

It's been ages since you went to visit your grandparents on their old farm. Old, as in barren and empty. Old age and debts forced them to sell the cows and leave the fields unplanted.
Your tired mom drops you off rather hurriedly, right when your grandmother angrily slams the porch door on her husband. Hmm... A bit of tension there?

Although you were anxious in the car about spending so much time on a farm without electricity (which means no TV), you're warmly welcomed and quickly default to kid-on-a-farm mode: explore and have fun.

Your grandparents are not the hovering caretaker type. They go about their business and trust you to enjoy yourself in the wild outdoors and have adventures.
As NPCs, they're not very talkative, replying to questions with short and to-the-point answers. Nonetheless, they are loving and helpful when you ask them questions, providing some backstory about the farm's history, some glimpses into your mom's childhood, and sparse clues about the obstacles you encounter.

On the Farm is mostly finegrained, almost simulationist in its implementation, with deep and heartfelt descriptions of locations down to a detailed scenery level. Further into the adventure, when the player is presumably more concerned with advancing the plot and finding a direct route to solving the puzzles, the detailed implementation falls through a bit. In later stages of the game, there is more undescribed scenery, a comparative lack of reasonable synonyms and alternate commands. For the player wishing to stay in the role of an inquisitive kid exploring the surroundings, this breaks the illusion somewhat.

The farm environment is mundane, realistic and down-to-earth, don't expect any strange contraptions or magic. (With one exception to be found in a meta-command: (Spoiler - click to show)XYZZY brings up a list of locations, allowing you to transport to any you have already visited.)
This allows for a brilliant multiple use of the everyday objects you find on the farm. They serve to help your grandparents with little tasks and chores, plus most of them will be necessary in unexpected ways to solve the steps toward the solution of the overarching puzzle.

The game-side of the story consists of an engaging chain of not-too-hard puzzles which do require some thoughtful applications of those everyday objects. The end-goal is quite obvious from the get-go: talking to grandma and grandpa will point you in the right direction, and many clues are scattered throughout the house and the outdoors. These clues are directly linked with the story, allowing you to recreate your mom's childhood and your grandparents' life from small bits and incomplete hints.

On the Farm presents two interwoven layers of atmosphere.
There is a melancholy, a still sadness. Here are your grandparents, here are an old woman and an old man, living the remainder of their life on an old, unused and almost empty farm. A feeling of loss and ending.
And here you are, a ten-year-old kid running around and exploring, having an adventure. Bringing young life and joy and action to this place.

These two sides come together in an understated heartwarming endnote.

Jen just got her backside handed to her onstage in a battle-exchange of "Yo Momma"-jokes. This calls for revenge! And nothing shuts up a smug bully like Gus faster than the raw truth. Time to go snooping around the club for some insult-material that will leave your opponent stammering and crying for his mommy...

Actually, this game's setup is very reminiscent of the loosely biographical Eminem vehicle whose title I referenced above. I had a lot more fun with Raising the Flag on Mount Yo Momma than I had watching the film though.

The author manages to believably cram three multi-step puzzles in a tiny 8-location map. All locations have their clearly delineated function in the logical sequence of subpuzzles, sometimes more than once. The general club atmosphere is maintained throughout while the separate locations get an individual vibe.

The practical side of the writing is great. Uncluttered descriptions with the important stuff clearly standing out without becoming a dry list. A step-by-step hint system that masquerades as an in-game THINK ABOUT command. Easy communication through TALK TO, SHOW TO, or INSULT (of course...)

About half the puzzles require finding and using objects, often clever and always firmly in the time-honoured adventure style. The other half is all about NPC manipulation. On my first round of exploration through the club, already a few dozen ideas popped into my head for distracting, coercing, or otherwise using certain NPCs to further my goals. Most of these were too farfetched, but when some of my ideas turned out to work, I couldn't resist a little fist-bump. ("Hah! I told you I'd get you!")

The goal that needs furthering is, as is implied in the title of the game, perfecting your craftsmanship in dragging someone's mom through the mud. That's not cool. But a lot of Yo Momma-jokes are so over-the-top and exaggerated to the point of absurdity, or just plain bewildering non-sequiturs, that they do become funny (or at least groanworthy) again. The fact that the protagonist is a young girl standing her ground in a macho-dominated environment also shaves a lot of the viciousness off the insults.

However, the only time the "jokes" do become cruel is during the final confrontation, when this sympathetic young girl mercilessly uses the secrets she found out about her rival to grind him into the ground. (Jen reminds me of Lil' Ragamuffin from the Guttersnipe-games in a way. You wouldn't want to get on her bad side.)
Somewhat justified perhaps, because the antagonist character really is a bully, and because Yo Momma battles are ugly fights so those who enter should know what's coming.

I for one would like to see Eminem try to stand his ground against Jen.