Yurf

The rise of choice-based games to co-equal status alongside their parser cousins has had a lot of positive effects, in my view, among which is an understanding of the fact that under the hood parser games also operate on choice-based logic: the unlimited freedom of text input hides the fact that a game will only accept a limited, pre-programmed set of actions, which can then be likewise applied to a limited, pre-programmed set of objects. This isn’t to say that there aren’t real differences, as anyone who’s ever cursed at a guess-the-verb challenge in a parser game will attest, but it’s an interesting viewpoint that interrogates the conventional wisdom.

None of that applies when you’ve got a game based on riddles, though – sure, there are only a finite number of words in the English language, but if an author doesn’t implement all of them, that doesn’t undermine the illusion of mimesis: that just means there’s one right answer and a whole whole lot of wrong answers, and suddenly the parser really can offer a whole world of possibility. Of course, building your game around riddles is a risky move exactly because of this. While a wonky puzzle in the medium-dry-goods tradition might see a player shoving all sorts of odd objects at NPCs to see if they’ll accept a swap, or one focused on complex Myst-style machinery might lead to pushing and pulling of levers at random, there’s no way to attack a riddle via trial and error or make slow progress by solving other puzzles and clearing out your inventory first. A bad riddle will leave the player frustrated and running to the hints, grunting out “I never would have guessed that” as I seethe.

Yurf is a one-word parser fantasia that dares to run that risk, and I think mostly succeeds despite it boasting its share of bumpy patches. You’re a nameless faceless etc. adventurer journeying around an Alice-in-Wonderland-inspired kingdom in search of four card-suit-themed jewels, in order to – well, despite having played through the game twice (since completing it a first time unlocks a “boss mode” that remixes some of the puzzles), I confess I couldn’t quite tell you, though it seems to have something to do with unlocking a vault and reuniting the king of the day with his estranged spouse, the queen of the night? To say that the plot isn’t the point isn’t to undersell the enjoyable whimsy with which the world is sketched, though: although the broad outlines are familiar, down to specific quotations of Lewis Carroll, the various characters and environments are drawn with verve, from the mathemagical neighborhood where number is all, to the slyly grumpy tree, to the pirates plying the space-lanes between the earth and the moon. The sad-sack king is a particular highlight: you first meet him crying his eyes out while being force-fed pies, because, as he says, “having banished the Queen, I’m getting just desserts.” The parser puts a cherry on top of the gag, too, in how it expands your command CONVERSE to CONVERSE WITH THE WET WEEPING MOUND THAT IS APPARENTLY THE KING.

Speaking of that parser, as mentioned it only takes one word – all actions, no objects. That means that there’s only ever one thing you can examine, or one character you can converse with, at any location. Aside from compass navigation, those commands are in fact most of what’s available to you, save for a few special commands reflecting expanded abilities from obtaining some inventory objects. It works cleanly enough, but it’s not really enough to hang a puzzle around, which is where the riddles come in. Except for a few straightforward places where using the aforementioned items allows you to progress, most of the obstacles you encounter require you to answer some kind of riddle – helping an artist-cum-engineer decide what kind of bridge to build, say, or editing a bit of doggerel to become a compelling love poem. Some of these are quite good – I especially liked the first of the math-based puzzles, which puts a numeric twist on the hoary old “one guard lies, one tells the truth” gag – though others, predictably, were too out-of-the-box for me to figure out without a hint (I still don’t really understand how the solution to the Air to the Throne’s riddle is meant to work). But the good ones predominate over the wonky ones, enough so that I continued on to play through that second quest – it disables hints, though if anything I found the riddles a bit better clued the second time round, with the exception of that %$#@ Air guy.

Beyond the occasional wonky riddle, I did find a few bugs – most notably, I was able to sequence break since the game allows you to burn stuff before you find the tinder box that notionally unlocks the ability. I was still able to complete my playthrough, though, and I actually found that contributed to the enjoyably topsy-turvy vibe of the game. That lovely atmosphere, combined with Yurf’s ability to pull off those moments of inspiration where you come up with the answer to a riddle out of thin air and marvel that it works, makes for a pleasant sojourn in Wonderland indeed.

This game uses a similar engine to the author’s last game, Steal 10 Treasures to Win This Game, with some differences. Both only allow a set collection of inputs; nothing else can even be entered. So, error messages are replaced by just not allowing you to type things. However, the older game only uses single letters for inputs. This game lets you type longer words, and does have little responses explaining why you can’t do some things.

The game is set in the fictional land of Yurf, where a royal conflict has divided the world and four gems have been lost. You need to explore the world, which has a surreal Alice in Wonderland/Phantom Tollbooth feel.

The parser is one-word only. This makes the game simpler but also harder. I appreciated the reduced number of actions I had to try. On the other hand, I was frustrated by simple things like trying to look at one person in a group of three, checking my inventory or interacting with individual background items.

The one-word parser has been stretched to its limits here, and that means one thing: riddles. Around half or more of the games puzzles are intuition-based or ‘aha’ type riddles, where instead of manipulating physical objects or learning a system you have to sit and puzzle it out. I ended up having to use hints twice. While I typically enjoy riddles less than other styles of gameplay, they made sense both storywise and given the input constraints.

Overall, a polished and good-looking game, well-written and mostly bug-free (I passed on a typo and a sequence-breaking bug to the author).