Metroid Prime Remastered – Game Diary

Session 1 – Friday 9th August

I’d been thinking about starting Metroid Prime Remastered all day, but didn’t get around to it until returning home from a meal at the Admiral Hood pub in Mosterton. I was extremely full. The burger wasn’t especially large but the cheese in it was overwhelming to the point that I could feel it slithering through my veins and coagulating around my heart more and more after every bite. I added garlic mushrooms, too. They really add something special to a burger, you know?

Anyway, Metroid Prime Remastered was started on the evening of Friday 9th August. Things kicked off on a space station platform with a simple tutorial section, and then I directed Samus inside. I was really digging the atmosphere once we got to poking around the damaged hallways and science rooms. There’s nothing quite like seeing insectoid aliens in specimen tanks and dead critters scattered about the place before you get a chance to interact with the live ones.

It took most of this bout of space station exploration to get to grips with the scanning and firing mechanics, as I kept pressing the wrong trigger and trying to scan space pirates (which does give a bit of information) or blasting switches and info panels (which doesn’t achieve anything). Eventually, Samus and I faced off against a parasite queen and finished her off by blasting her through the gaps in a rotating light shield. The parasite queen fell down into some kind of reactor, which caused an explosion that started off a tense escape sequence, during which we were almost overwhelmed by the swarms of bugs in the tubes, and Samus lost all of her upgraded suit powers. We made it outside though, after freeing a pterodactyl-like creature that I know (just from general video game culture absorption) to be called Ridley, and Samus got to her super-cool ship and made planetfall.

I enjoyed exploring the opening areas of the planet (whose name I didn’t catch) and eventually made my way to the Chozo Ruins. Now, I know a bit about these Chozo fellows thanks to finishing Metroid Dread, the only other Metroid game I’ve played, but I must admit I wasn’t digging the atmosphere here as much as during the opening. For those not in the know; this area has a “desert ruins” vibe.

I found the missile and the ball upgrades, and then had a fight with an armoured bug, during which I could’ve sworn I saw a spooky face appear for a split second on the screen. After further investigation, it seems that Samus’ face reflects on the visor if an explosion goes off close enough to her helmet. A cool touch that initially made me think my TV was haunted.

Anyway, I found lots of places that I didn’t have the equipment to interact with yet, like a super-heated room and some half-pipe-looking things that seem to require a ball boost. Not long after fending off a horde of War Wasps summoned by a big, beaky, three-faced Chozo machine, I found a save room and called it a night.

Session 2 – Saturday 10th August

Session two was a handheld session because the family were playing loud music in the living room, but the earbud experience might have actually boosted the immersion a bit. If my eyesight wasn’t so shot handheld would possibly be my chosen way to play.

Samus and I continued our traversal through the Chozo Ruins, and I realised that the map screen is very interesting, again probably thanks to playing in handheld. It feels really sci-fi scrolling and rotating the 3D map. Oh, and the planet is called Tallon IV. Some ancient Chozo scriptures reminded me.

Anyway, the music is pretty cool in this area. I found the Charge Beam near a room filled with toxic fluid. I thought I’d accidentally let Samus die in the danger water but it turns out she had an extra health bar. I didn’t realise this until I found another health boost later on and saw that it adds 100 health. That is a not insubstantial health boost. There’s no chance I’ll ever let Samus die to anything now. That was foreshadowing.

Oh, and the constant low health alarm coupled with Samus’ laboured breathing is a bit much. I was desperately looking for bugs to shoot so that I could get a health pick-up and some peace and quiet.

We fought a wasp hive with a flamethrower drone underneath it. This drone was spewing fire at Samus and at the hive, agitating the wasps so that they came after Samus. Doesn’t seem fair. Beating that thing gave us bombs to use when Samus is rolled up into a ball, which also lets her hop around in ball form, opening up lots of new areas. We used these newfound traversal abilities to get some more missile capacity upgrades.

Eventually we made it to a big, flowery bug boss, and it was going pretty well early on, but then I couldn’t figure out how to get underneath the boss after I’d shot all the light-reflecting mirror things, and Samus was killed. Oh well, so much for all that health. The explosion and subsequent mini cut-scene with Samus’ shattered helmet was a bit intense.

I was too hot and sweaty to continue, so I decided to come back to it another time.

Session 3 – Saturday 10th August (evening)

I enjoyed this Metroid Prime Remastered session while also enjoying Co-Op smooth and creamy toffees. Encouraged by the sticky, sugary goodness, Samus and I killed the big flower thing. Third time lucky. I figured out what to do the second time around (turns out the boss was knocking the mirrors back into place and I didn’t notice), but had lost some health by falling into the toxic fluid in the previous room. Nailed it third time, and earned an armour upgrade in the shape of some meatier shoulder pads. They call it the Varia Suit, here on Talon IV. Beating this creature also made all the water turn nice, so I let Samus splash around a bit before moving on to the next distinct area.

This next area was called Magmoor Caverns, according to the elevator down to it. Magmoor sounds like magma, and I just got the heat resistant suit. It’s all adding up. I’m not usually a fan of lava areas in games, but we’ll see how it goes. The ominous chanting in the soundtrack as Samus started exploring the red-tinted caves gave a decent idea as to what’s to come.

Early on in the Magmoor Caverns I got Samus to scan a creature called a Grizby, and the game told me I’d filled 25% of my log book. Nice.

Anyway, sure enough, there was lots of lava deeper in. I did actually let Samus die again as we fell off an intricate ball-rolling area and couldn’t get out of the red stuff in time. I almost gave up for the night as the save point was miles away, but stuck with it. I got through that area on the second try and found an elevator to a different part of the overworld, before happening upon Samus’ ship again. It’s a save point, so I used it, and that was enough for this session.

Session 4 – Sunday 11th August

I found a snowy area. Something Drifts. Where’s the lava boss? I was expecting a lava boss, but I guess I got swerved. Anyway, the snow underfoot doesn’t show Samus’ footprints. Always disappointing.

I kinda like this area, but the little fellas with ice armour and ice breath are pricks. I sure hope there’s not a massive version of them that I have to fight later. That was foreshadowing.

Anyway, I finally got the boost ball.

Samus and me got a bit lost after this, and while we were wandering the computerised voice that gives us map hints sent us to the overworld, where Samus used a half-pipe to get a double jump upgrade! We did some more exploring and found an Impact Crater (I guess this is where the poison meteorite spoken of in the Chozo texts hit). This was a pretty cool area, and I liked the enclosed glass walkways. The area with all the artefact statues reminded me of an area in Halo 2. Also, from what I read in the Chozo texts, I’m not sure we should be collecting these artefacts. Won’t it unleash the poison? Gotta do what the game tells me, I guess.

Anyway, Samus and I did lots more exploring with the new ball boosters and double jump, and ended up back in the icy locale. We found an area with a power-up that was spirited away before Samus could pick it up, and we had to fight a small swarm of the aforementioned ice armour critters. Then we had to fight a massive one, but it got the better of us. Samus death number five. I hadn’t saved for ages. That one stung. Time to call it a day.

Session 5 – Friday 16th August

Time to fully discover how much my save point carelessness set me back last session. I had to rediscover the Impact Crater, re-find the artefact in the Magmoor Caverns, and re-get to the icy bit with the massive creature. Luckily, this time I remembered to visit the save point in the large, external icy area. The house-sized monster (a sheegoth) was still a prick to fight, though. I actually paused when Samus’ health got low to have a quick Google search and make sure I was going about the fight in the right way. I don’t feel guilty about this, because I don’t think the game was very good at indicating that I was doing damage. The sheegoth just went kind of purple for a moment and moved its head a bit. It turns out I was on the right track, though, and finally Samus and I squashed the big, icy bastard with around ten health left. An annoying fight.

Anyway, this gave Samus the Wave Beam, which lets her open purple doors and opens up new combat options, and enables her to kill those energy orbs that we had to run around previously. Not long after this, Samus and I found the Super Missile, but I couldn’t remember the controls to activate it so never actually used it.

After exploring some laboratories and finally encountering a titular metroid, I found another area that annoyed me. A visible missile upgrade lay at the end of a suspended length of metal grating that Samus had to roll over in ball form, and the camera angle kept changing, which changed the directional inputs along with it. I fell off a few too many times.

Not long later, Samus located the Thermal Visor (and I earned a pop-up stating I’d found 25% of items) and this was followed by a legitimately intense and elongated lights out section, where the visor was very much required. I also wasn’t sure if I was going the right way because there was a door Samus couldn’t open and I was aware of the possibility that it might have required the Super Missile thing, but there were new enemies and encounters on the way back, so we kept going. Eventually, Samus and I made it outside, and made our way all the way back to the overworld. I was keeping an eye on the map, looking for purple doors that we could open, but called it a day when we reached Samus’ ship again.

Still, progress was made, and that’s important.

Session 6 – Sunday 18th August

The search for purple doors!

Well, not really – we found a couple of missile upgrades (one of which we’d found already before the whole dying-to-the-sheegoth-without-saving incident) and then the map app bleeped and told us to go to the chilly area. You know, So-and-So Drifts.

At this point, I was forced to learn how to shoot Super Missiles to get through a certain door. I guess it had to happen eventually. We ended up in a big arena and fought an enormous rock monster. It was a bit of a pain in the arse because we ran out of missiles, but Samus got the big stony bastard first try. Her reward was the Spider Ball, which I was correct to assume was for the magnetic tracks.

Samus and I zipped around and found some areas where the Spider Ball was useful, and eventually came to a pillar-smashing set piece in the Chozo Ruins that needed 60 missiles to complete, and it spawned enemies that you could only kill with missiles and also had other enemies that deflected your missiles patrolling around the areas you had to hit with the missiles. We had to keep going back to a nearby corridor to farm missile ammo drops off of the little Metapod-looking things.

Anyway, we managed to solve it and the Wavebuster weapon was our reward.

Later, we found a room where a Chozo Ghost attacked us, and I found this fight to be very long and tough, because I misread the word “invulnerable” as “vulnerable” in the scan data and continuously attacked it with something it was immune to. Once I realised my mistake, Samus took it out pretty quickly.

Next was a half-pipe room with toad enemies in it, which led to the Ice Beam, which opened up lots more areas for us to explore. One such area was the inside of the big, crashed research ship on the overworld, which is mostly waterlogged. Samus and I were exploring this lovely, submerged area with its atmospheric, beautiful music and its Subnautica vibe, when I realised how late it was. Luckily, there was a save point deep inside, and I called it a night.

Samus will be alright standing around underwater until next time, right?

Session 7 – Wednesday 21st August

So, we had to turn back pretty much straight away. The very next room in the waterlogged vessel had a section that required a suit upgrade to progress. At least we found a nice Health Booster in there. This would be important later. Anyway, it looks like Samus and I have to go to What’s-its-Name Drifts next. Which elevator was that?

We found our way to a watery area in the Drifts, and I did not like being forced to go into an underwater tentacle nest with next to zero visibility. Samus took it like a pro, though, and we soon found her swimsuit! It’s more respectably known as the Gravity Suit, which would allow Samus to move unimpeded through water, and gives a visibility boost underwater too. It also gave Samus’ armour and visor a fetching blue tint.

We headed back to the submerged parts of the research vessel and made some progress, getting through lots of rooms with fiddly, tentacle-impeded platforming and using the heat vision visor to find power conduits for locked doors. At the end of all this was an elevator to the Phazon Mines. The “intense radiation” warning was ominous.

I quite like the Phazon Mines. The rock walls and metal walkways remind me of the queue areas in Disney World. Maybe it’s Nintendo’s trademark colourful take on gritty sci-fi. Anyway, unlike the Disney queue areas, it turns out you can shoot the pipes to get through blocked off areas.

We partially solved a Krypton Factor-style puzzle with different coloured ball tracks and reached an elevator to another area of the mines. Samus was doing fine, but I was flagging at this point, and was looking for a save point. Instead of a save point we found a gigantic elite pirate. We put him down and had lots of other fights across various complex rooms with variously-equipped pirates and no save point in sight. Eventually, we had to fight a very nasty invisible thing that Samus couldn’t scan or even lock onto. I was determined not to lose all of our progress, but things got pretty close. We beat it with 35 health left (told you that Health Booster would be important), but even that wasn’t the end. We had to do an electrified ball maze to get the bomb upgrade, and Samus’ health bar took a few more zaps before the end.

Luckily, the next room had a save point, and it was both literally and figuratively a light at the end of a tunnel. Session over.

Session 8 – Thursday 22nd August

Another handheld session today, and Samus and I went straight to exploding some rubble in the way of doors with the newly-acquired Power Bombs. We quickly learned that they have limited ammunition. How unnecessary! Anyway, we backtracked and found the map room, but every route forward seemed to take us through pure, sparkly blue, health-draining Phazon, so it was a bit of a no go.

I was finding the mines difficult to navigate in handheld mode. The map hint system was sending us back to the surface but then shortly after gave me a hint for a different room in the mine. It would later become apparent that this was the Krypton Factor room, but I couldn’t remember that room at the time and I was getting somewhat perplexed. There were lots of enemies too, including another gigantic Elite Pirate, and a bunch of different pirate types that forced constant beam changes.

Anyway, Samus and I were finally able to complete the Krypton Factor room thanks to the Power Bombs, and this led us to the Grapple Beam. Finally! That should open a few new routes. After fiddling about in the first large Phazon Mines room with the crane and getting nowhere, we headed back to the overworld for some grappling.

Almost immediately, the X-Ray Visor was located, and then we took a jaunt to the Chozo Ruins to find an artefact in the arena-looking area. We quickly made our way back to Samus’ ship after that, and I chose to call it a night. Playing Metroid Prime Remastered in handheld is not good for my demeanour.

Session 9 – Saturday 24th August

We kicked off today’s session by heading back to the Magmoor Caverns. I’ve realised the music here kind of feels like it could be in a Zelda game. Maybe in some kind of Goron settlement or something. The music just doesn’t feel all that sci-fi to me – it feels better-suited to a volcano dungeon or maybe a gigantic Dwarven forge town.

Anyway, Samus and I found the Plasma Beam after a particularly painful section in which Samus had to roll around on the walls with lots of lava below. It took us a while and a few tries to get to the top of this room, but I got a sense of accomplishment and the Plasma Beam is super powerful and fun to shoot things with, so it was totally worth it.

Except, we had to do the whole thing again because Samus fell into the Phazon after being attacked by a shitload of pirate troopers with different beam immunities while at fairly low health thanks to the repeated dips into the lava due to the aforementioned wall-based ball-rolling. Samus death number six.

After doing it all again and surviving the tricky room that claimed us last time, Samus and I explored the Phazon Mines a bit more, looking for places to swing with the Grapple Beam and red doors to bust with the Plasma Beam, but we ended up making our way to the Magmoor Caverns again and found a Power Bomb ammo upgrade, with the game informing me that Samus had found 50% of items.

I had to stop at this point to dispose of a giant spider that I spotted on the wall near the TV. I used a mug and a coaster. This harrowing experience will definitely negatively affect how I view Metroid Prime Remastered. Shame on you, Nintendo.

Back to the game, and back to the overworld, because I remembered seeing a red door on the map there. Samus jumped across some invisible platforms and found a missile ammo upgrade. Still no actual game progress, then. Luckily, the map hint system piped up once more and directed us back to the Phazon Mines. Looks like we missed something.

Sure enough, it was invisible platforms again. So the game let me find the invisible platforms in the overworld that are highlighted by rain falling on them before requiring me to find the ones in the Phazon Mines that have no visual clue that they’re there unless you use the X-Ray Visor. Is that good game design? Or are invisible platforms just bullshit? I’ll let the cosmos decide.

Anyway, not long after this invisible platform room I got Samus killed again after being careless in a rolling section with lots of Phazon spread around. I’d saved not long ago, so we decided to call it a night. Seven deaths in nine sessions. That sounds like a positive to me.

Session 10 – Tuesday 27th August

Back to the mines. I directed Samus through some very aggravating platforming from glowing mushroom to glowing mushroom over radioactive goop while trying to grapple onto a stupid flying creature of some kind. Luckily, we found a save point in one such room. Or at least, I thought we did. Turned out it was just a missile recharge machine. What the heck? There isn’t even anything nearby that needs a lot of missiles! What a dupe.

Unless the missiles were for the boss, maybe, but that was quite a few rooms away.

Anyway, I saw an artefact in a hole and tried to tank the Phazon damage to get it and Samus died again. That’s eight deaths. Definitely need Phazon immunity to get that particular shiny.

Next stop, the Omega Pirate. This thing was tough, but at least it was kind of clear what to do. Knowing what I had to shoot at didn’t stop me from getting Samus killed again, though. Twice. Yep, that’s ten untimely demises. Is this a decent average or am I absolutely pants at Metroid Prime Remastered? Maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that. We got the big jerk the third time anyway, and Samus was looking super cool in her sleek, black Phazon Suit that dropped from its radioactive corpse. With Phazon damage a thing of the past, we went back to get the artefact, but then got assailed by metroids painted all the hues of the rainbow.

These things were really annoying. They tended to get right up in your face no matter what, and switching between weapons and then getting head-slurped by the one you’re not equipped to deal with and having to morph and drop a bomb and then repeat multiple times was a pain in the ass. I did not like the rainbow metroids, and wanted to leave the Phazon Mines behind for good at this point.

Samus and I eventually managed to get the heck out, leaving a couple of mysteries unsolved that I was aware of (namely the unpowered crane in the first large room, and a red door behind a forcefield in the corridors with the destructible pipes across them). We then headed back to the overworld, as the map hint told us to get our asses back to the Impact Crater.

What will we find? Well, I’ll find out next time. Time for bed, and all that.

Session 11 – Thursday 29th August

To the place where the artefacts are!

Upon arriving at the artefact place, Samus and I found that the other clues were available, so we went on a little artefact hunt. Also, I noticed that you can really see Samus’ face better through the visor of the Phazon Suit. Am I imagining that? I just feel like her eyes are more visible. Anyway, we headed to the Chozo Ruins first, and picked up an artefact in the room once occupied by the flower boss.

On to Magmoor Caverns. Samus and I found an artefact in the lava lake, and then headed back to the Chozo Ruins and got the artefact gizmo below the Chozo statue in the Hall of Elders, then it was time to go to What-the-Heck Drifts again. We found an extremely cheekily hidden artefact doodah at the top of the tall cave in the drifts, and then found another artefact doohickey under an icy Chozo statue. Then we came to a bit of a grinding halt.

I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to get the other Drifts artefact. The clue mentions a tower to collapse, but there are two areas named “tower” on the map, situated very close together, and I couldn’t find any way to collapse either of them, and couldn’t find anything of note in the room that connects them. It also didn’t feel like there was anything hidden there. A bit of gamer’s intuition, you know? Still, there must be something somewhere.

Aside from that one, the last artefact is hidden in the Phazon Mines and seems like it’ll require another fight against another big boy pirate. I couldn’t be done with that tonight either, so Samus and I decided to save the game and call it a night.

Session 12 – Friday 30th August

This one was likely to be a shorter session, because I had plans coming up. I thought I’d see if I could find at least one more artefact, though.

Samus and I travelled back through the Phazon Mines and got said artefact from another oversized, elite jerk. This just left the artefact in the Drifts of Whatever, the one that refers to the “tower”, and I thought I’d have a go because we got the first artefact so quickly. We trotted back to the Drifts and made our way back to the towers area (and I now saw that three areas in the map are named “tower”, because of the Control Tower between the East and West Towers), but I still couldn’t work out what to do. I felt like I’d hit a bit of a dead end. No fake walls. No mysterious things I could scan. Nothing.

So, is it still cheating if your wife looks up the solution on her phone instead of you? At first I just asked her to check if I was in the right place, because I at least wanted to know that, but this progressed to her basically telling me the solution. I was supposed to look out of the window in the East Tower (the window area doesn’t even seem to be a proper place, it just kind of feels like it’s out of bounds) and melt some ice and then explode some fuel tanks attached to another tower in the background with a missile. Apparently, I’d already melted the ice in my past searches through these accursed towers, because I only needed to fire the missile. Tower toppled. Final artefact claimed.

Look, I’m a grown adult with plans and responsibilities. I can’t be pissing about chasing some vague clue about towers. Additionally, in my defence, that was quite an obscure solution that doesn’t really fit with any of the other methods I’d used to find hidden areas in other parts of the game, and the tower you have to topple isn’t on the map and just seems like some background dressing. I think I’d gotten to the point where it was look it up or play something else.

So we went back to the artefact place (saving at Samus’ ship on the way, of course) and Samus got killed by Meta Ridley when he had but a smidgen of health left. My eyes are tired. My plans were looming. I’ll pick it up from that ship save next time.

Session 13 – Friday 30th August

Plans done (we had some some people round for a board game evening), and I settled in for session 13! Samus and I swatted Ridley pretty easily this second time around, and the bird-like Chozo statues surrounding the arena finished him off with red lasers. Kill-stealers. A pillar of light appeared after that fight which I thought might give Samus another power-up, but it zapped us into the Impact Crater instead.

Two rooms later, and we’d found the most annoying room in the game. An elongated, drawn-out platforming section during which Samus is constantly being harried by endlessly respawning Rainbow Metroids. Really, Nintendo? That room can get directly into the space bin. To add insult to injury, it was located between the last save point and the final boss!

Speaking of which; here comes Metroid Prime! I like the title drop. The first stage of the boss was a giant, armoured spider-looking thing. It was quite cinematic, the way it kept retreating deeper underground. It was fiddly but doable, and then the second stage – a floating, squid-like thing with a vaguely human face and a sparkly, translucent body that put me in the mind of Subnautica’s Ghost Leviathans – got pretty overwhelming pretty quickly. Samus was killed. Death number twelve, and we have to negotiate the platformer room with the walls that look like teeth and the endlessly respawning multicoloured bastards again. I’m going to spoil it now, though; this was the last time Samus would fall in battle.

We went in for attempt number two with cool heads and steady trigger fingers, and beat the first stage with health to spare. We took our time in the second stage, harvested the summoned adds for health pick-ups, and used the power bombs when Metroid Prime – Ghost Edition started summoning those horrible multicoloured metroids. After a fraught final few moments, Samus came out on top, and the final boss exploded.

I was expecting a third boss stage, but there was none. I was then expecting a playable escape sequence, but there was none. Just some end credits and a lot of relief. Metroid Prime Remastered: complete.

I didn’t find all the items (I think my final completion percentage was 68), but I’m happy, and can now file this in my completed Switch games pile along with Metroid Dread. Incidentally, I think that was the better game. The bosses in that game were harder, and it took me more tries to get past most of them, but I enjoyed the process of learning the patterns more, whereas in Metroid Prime Remastered I wasn’t always clear with what I was doing, and often found myself just blasting away and tanking damage.

Metroid Prime Remastered certainly had some pain in the ass moments, and wasn’t exactly a stress-free gaming experience, but I definitely enjoyed it, and vibed with the atmosphere for the most part. I’m definitely not finished with this series, and will be looking forward to the next instalment. I’m glad I staved off that cheeseburger-induced heart attack for long enough to see it through. That’s a call back to session one, by the way.

Oh, and completing the game unlocked Hard Mode. I’m alright, thanks. Trying to avoid a heart attack, remember?

Terra Nil

The Power Is Yours

Visually resplendent eco-strategy Terra Nil kicks things off with a dry and infertile patch of land and a limited selection of high-tech equipment, and tasks players with creating thriving and varied ecosystems through both natural and artificial means. Wind turbines power soil scrubbers, and specialist buildings distribute grasslands, fynbos (which is a new word I learned that seems to refer to a biome found specifically in South Africa), and forests across the healing land.

The multiple rivers criss-crossing those woods are the result of me trying to attract beavers.

Matters are complicated by certain factors like soil fertility and humidity levels, and would-be terraformers are tasked with figuring out how to achieve specific conditions in order for specific biome types to flourish. For example, temperate forests need ashy soil, which requires the use of a special building to start and manage a fire. Once the inferno has done its job, lush pine forests can spring up from the ashes, and once those are established, you might be lucky enough to spot a bear or two beneath the canopy.

The ultimate goal of Terra Nil is to achieve full, natural reformation over four distinct environments, cause animals to return, and achieve various environmental goals that will cause beneficial effects such as rains returning or ferns growing along the sides of rivers. The reward for all this is the ability to watch adorable, cel-shaded critters explore your picturesque islands and valleys as you sit back and celebrate a job well done.

The island maps give you the chance to create beaches, reefs and rainforests. If you’re lucky you might even see some jellyfish.

Terra Nil’s visuals do a decent job of portraying nature at its most vibrant, while still maintaining a simple, grid-based style. As you progress through the building tiers your small patch of land will become rich with meandering rivers, lush wetlands, and flowering meadows. Later environments offer island rain forests, rocky, lichen-covered tundra and even reclaimed cities as rewards, and each environment type has a second map where you’ll have to figure out how to achieve the same eco-miracles using a different set of buildings and equipment.

The game’s goals and blocky visual style actually remind me of an extremely obscure, Japanese environment-’em-up that I picked up, tried, and traded in many years ago, named Birthdays The Beginning. That particular effort failed to grab me thanks to some obtuse gameplay and strict campaign rules. Terra Nil undoubtedly does a better job of easing you in and then making you feel comfortable for your stay, but currently falls down a bit in one of the areas where Birthdays actually excelled – its wealth of content.

Sometimes you have to make things worse before you make them better.

As mentioned, Terra Nil offers four environment types with two maps each. Each environment has a handful of challenges based on humidity and temperature that unlock various effects, and six animal species that can be introduced, and that’s it. Once you’ve ticked all these boxes your only reason for continued play is to redo the various map types and see if you can achieve your goals in different ways.

I’d love a huge map that I can just take my time with, terraforming as I see fit and finding ways to overcome challenges offered by the terrain. I’d also like more animals to introduce, with some requiring extremely specific conditions that require a lot of work, making them all the more rewarding. I want these things because Terra Nil is really, really good, but a little too short. It’s a great game to pass some time with, and even with its after-the-end setting and global climate crisis message, it has a peaceful and uplifting vibe. It gives you time to think, and rewards your strategic building placement with instant swathes of colourful flora.

There’s nothing like some ideal lichen to warm you up on a cold day.

The highlight of the game, though, is the way each scenario ends. Once every building is placed and the desired utopia is achieved, the final step is to remove and recycle every trace of technology. Strategic use of terrain is required to place recycling buildings around the map, and then a recycling drone or hovercraft will start the hugely satisfying process of gradually removing any sign that you were ever there at all. Once the last building has been removed, your quadcopter will pack up and fly away, and only a burgeoning, natural landscape will remain.

It’s a beautiful moment that delivers the game’s message in a tremendously uplifting way. It’s artfully done, and considering the developer’s other works include Broforce and Genital Jousting, it’s quite a departure in tone. You’ve got to respect the versatility. 

Into the Breach

Live, Blast Kaiju, Repeat

As someone who’s eyes light up at the sight of a grid-based battlefield populated with adorable 2D combatants, I was predisposed to give Into the Breach a chance. If you’re not like me, and don’t instantly fall in love with anything that bears even a passing resemblance to Shining Force III or Final Fantasy Tactics, you might glance at the relatively small battlefields and limited number of units on show and decide to give this one a miss. I’m here to politely request that you reconsider that decision, as you’re missing out on a gem! A bastard-hard and thoroughly depressing gem, but a gem nonetheless.

Despite this guy’s confidence, you won’t be able to save everyone.

This indie-developed, mech-on-kaiju strategy game has been around since 2018, but I recently picked up the physical copy on Switch, and have found myself thoroughly absorbed into its time-bending, apocalyptic world. Your job in Into the Breach is to command a small squad of mechs as they attempt to defend the world’s population and infrastructure from an onslaught of giant bugs known as the Vek. Already on its last legs due to various natural catastrophes, civilisation has been brought to the brink of destruction by the marauding kaiju, and humanity’s last hope comes in the form of a group of time-hopping mech pilots.

The main aim of the game is to protect buildings and facilities from monster attacks, as these locations provide power to your power grid, and if your power grid fails, the timeline you’re in is fucked and it’s time to bail out. If this happens, your pilots will use their timey-wimey powers to zap themselves to a different timeline and try again. Each pilot is scattered across different timelines, too, so you can only keep one of them, and if you mess up and one of your mechs gets destroyed, the pilot is (usually) gone for good. Just don’t get too attached to these guys, okay?

While Into the Breach has a lot of the gameplay and strategy you’d expect from comparable modern retro tactical games like Triangle Strategy and Wargroove, there are a few mechanics that handily set it apart. One is the previously-mentioned timeline shenanigans, which lends itself to roguelike-style progression where repeated failures result in you being slightly better-equipped to take on the next timeline. Another mechanic that sets Into the Breach apart is the fact that it will clearly tell you exactly what the monstrous Vek are planning to do in the next turn, and will allow you to plan and manipulate them appropriately.

Chemical pools and conveyor belts are just a couple of the environmental hazards you’ll be dealing with. Oh, and see that knobbly squid thing in the bottom row? Take that out first.

It may sound like being able to accurately predict the AI’s every move would make a game like this pretty easy, but this is not the case. In fact, it’s this mechanic that takes Into the Breach further into board game or puzzle game territory. This removal of random chance or behind-the-scenes calculations makes Into the Breach pure strategy, akin to Chess, and will lead to difficult decisions aplenty. Expect to find yourself staring at the screen for minutes on end, sighing and rubbing your chin as you attempt to run through sequences of moves in your head to get out of a seemingly impossible situation you’ve found yourself in. You’ll often find yourself played into a corner where you’re forced to sacrifice something, and making the difficult choice between the mission objective or one of your experienced pilots is sure to produce lots of curse words and require a cup of tea or two. You’ll need a strong stomach, thick skin, and a really, really big brain to master this one.

The final goal of the game is to defeat the Vek at their hive, which is an area that opens up after liberating two of the four available islands. The difficulty scales as you progress through the islands, so taking the Vek hive out after island number two is your easiest option, but successfully completing a four-island run is a much more difficult goal. It’s a tough ask, and only letting you take one pilot with you to the next timeline feels harsh to the point of being insurmountable. Perseverance, experimentation, and the ability to stay calm and look for options under pressure are your best weapons to get there.

It’s often better to let your mech take a hit, rather than lose some of your power grid. Even if a pilot is killed, the mech’s AI will bring it back for the next mission. You’ll probably feel bad, though.

Once you’re up and running, understanding and upgrading your mech’s abilities, manipulating the Vek into harming each other, and successfully shielding civilians from kaiju attack becomes extremely satisfying. You’ll feel like a legendary commander when you pull it off, and you’ll become more confident as you start to understand the game’s way of thinking. However, Into the Breach is always capable of surprising you, and a power grid failure that results in hordes of titanic bugs burrowing out of the Earth’s crust to overwhelm the planet’s last defenders is always only a mistake away.

As alluded to earlier, Into the Breach can initially seem limited. The maps are small, you’re usually in charge of only three units at a time, and there are only five different environment types to do battle in. However, its difficulty, ingenious mechanics, variety of environmental effects and open-ended nature make for an incredibly deep experience that will keep throwing up new problems for as long as you’re willing to solve them.

The game does its best to make you remember that there are lives at stake. Try to focus on the mission, okay?

Tough, tense, and hugely atmospheric, Into the Breach is a strategy game for big time players. Great pixel art and some fantastically appropriate musical pieces all add to a high quality strategy experience, with unlockable mech squads and pilots, and additional, advanced options allowing experienced players to tweak gameplay to their heart’s content.

Climb into your mech, steel yourself for the horrors you’re about to witness, and give this strategy gem the chance it deserves. After all, you can always abandon this timeline and jump to the next if things don’t work out.

Video Game Covers

Wanna Talk Box Art? I’ve Got You Covered

One of the many reasons I fear the day when digital distribution replaces the physical game entirely, is that we’ll lose the establishment that is video game box art. I’ve been thinking a lot about video game cover art lately, and have indeed been looking at a lot of video game cover art, too. I’m looking at the cover of Fantasy World Dizzy right now, in fact. This timeless piece of artwork shows an egg in boxing gloves, wearing a safari hat and holding a telescope, while dragons and dinosaurs loom threateningly in the background. It’s a completely normal cover for a completely normal game, and it’s just the tip of the box art iceberg. From Wipeout to Alan Wake to Gravity Rush to Double Dragon, there’s a huge variety of great cover art out there, and I’m going to put on my world-renowned art critic shoes and talk about some now.

I’m also going to highlight a few that I really dislike. Then I’ll probably get called out on it and feel bad about it, but that’s just the kind of thing that us world-renowned art critics have to deal with every day. Let’s just look at some covers, shall we?   

GOOD – Deus Ex

The box art of Deus Ex pleases me. There are a few aspects that come together to give an unmistakable dystopian, cyberpunk feel, but it’s that ambiguous beam of light that really peaks my interest. Has JC Denton been picked out by a spotlight? Or is he ascending into some higher state of cybernetically-enhanced existence? The grid and stream of numbers overlaying the sky could be a representation of the all-encompassing grasp of technology, or could hint that this whole world is a simulation. Either way, with its black helicopter, bleak cityscape, shades-at-night-time vibe, this box art has all the ingredients needed to get you into the conspiracy mindset. Corporate subterfuge, government cover-ups and dehumanising body modification are surely just around the corner.

GOOD – Sonic & Knuckles

Before Sonic’s video game world was filled with superfluous bats, cats, bees, and miscellaneous additional residuary hedgehogs, a new character was a big deal that people looked forward to. Tails’ introduction in Sonic the Hedgehog 2 was a serious event, as was Sonic the Hedgehog 3’s unveiling of the mysterious, antagonistic echidna, Knuckles. When Sonic & Knuckles hit the shelves, and people knew that they were finally going to be able to play as the prickly, pink anti-hero, this minimal box art did all it needed to do. An elegant logo on a black background, depicting Sonic and his new frenemy. It’s simple, it’s pretty, and it works. This is graphic design, people. I’m surprised I never see it on hoodies.

BAD – Days Gone

Days Gone has a stupid box art. This thing was designed by a committee, or some kind of cover-designing computer program. The “cover-o-matic”, if you will. Someone typed “zombie horde, brooding protagonist, 42% Sons of Anarchy, 58% The Walking Dead” into the algorithm and this is what came out. No one noticed that the computer didn’t understand that the lead wouldn’t be sitting and brooding handsomely next to his bike while a horde of infected looms only a few metres away. It’s a dumb and meaningless cover that just ticks all the triple-A, cinematic, gritty Netflix series-inspired boxes of its era. Don’t blame the cover-o-matic, though. It just does what it’s told. 

BAD – Eternal Ring

Look, I don’t want to knock a developing artist, but I also think that a certain level of refinement should be required when producing the cover art for an officially-released video game. Eternal Ring is FromSoftware’s original ring-based action RPG that a lot of people don’t know about, and honestly, I don’t think I’d know anything about it either if its cover art hadn’t stuck with me for all the wrong reasons. There’s nothing wrong with the image choice of a guy contemplating a ring for a game that presumably features a ring that’s worth contemplating, but why the hell wasn’t I producing covers for worldwide video game releases in the year 2000? I possessed a similar level of anatomical drawing understanding, and I’m pretty sure I was better at hands. 

GOOD – The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (NA Cover)

Historically, the Zelda franchise has gone for a prominent logo on a plain or minimal background for its box art, and I’ve seen folks online identifying these as both the best and worst things ever. I like them, but I like this one more. The logo is right there, looking lovely as ever, but it’s backed up by an image that embodies impending adventure. Link, wearing a brand new, blue tunic, stands on a rocky outcrop like someone’s expertly-painted Warhammer miniature, and a world of opportunity awaits before him. This cover represents an exciting new era for one of the world’s premier video game franchises, and invites you along for the ride.

BAD – Planescape: Torment

I love Planescape: Torment. I do. It’s got the greatest story ever told in gaming and I’ll die on that hill all day. Not many people experienced said yarn, however, and while its status as a cult classic PC RPG that sits in the shadow of the likes of Baldur’s Gate and Fallout 2 definitely had something to do with this, this super-weird front cover surely contributed to its obscurity. I mean, what were players supposed to expect when they laid eyes on it? It looks like an alien from a voodoo magic-inspired episode of some obscure, ’90s sci-fi, which I guess would have its charm if that’s the kind of vibe Planescape: Torment was going for, but it really isn’t. The ’90s sci-fi makeup job, the blue scaling, the picked-out gold on the dreadlock beads, it’s all so weird and off-putting. Great game, though. Honestly. 

GOOD – The NewZealand Story

My pick of the bunch when it comes to cutesy platformer box art is the adorable and mysterious The NewZealand Story. Let’s have a look at some of the characters arrayed on this cover, shall we? You’ve got Tiki the kiwi himself, looking adorably heroic in his trainers, then there’s a whole host of critters standing in opposition. There’s a thing in a floating UFO tank, there’s a kind of sinister-looking, fire-breathing tortoise, there’s a cat-like creature with bat wings, and there’s an absolutely beautiful little bat-mouse thing in the bottom corner, standing there looking like some kind of proto-Gengar. It’s a cuddly yet action-packed composition, and thankfully, that creepy, pink whale boss is nowhere to be seen. 

GOOD – Streets of Rage

I love a side-scrolling beat-’em-up, and the genre has provided some epic cover art over the years, from the various ports of 1986’s Renegade, right up to the recent Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge. The original Streets of Rage has to be the pinnacle, though. A perfect example of ’90s action movie-style, illustrated box art, this expertly-composed picture has it all. It’s not entirely representational of the game, though. I don’t know why Blaze and Axel have changed their outfits, and no bad guys carry Uzis, wear hockey masks, snipe from windows or emerge from beneath sewer covers (not until the second game, anyway), but who cares when the image is so awesome? I own a cushion with this artwork on it. No word of a lie. I’m leaning on it now, in fact.

BAD – The Last of Us Part II

Sony’s big exclusives really do run the gamut of cover quality. Horizon Zero Dawn is great, God of War is alright, Days Gone can get in the bin, and then you have this. “Close up of grumpy face”. I don’t know what else to say, really, it’s just another meaningless cover that ticks market research boxes but in an even less interesting way. I totally get it, The Last of Us Part II cover designer, your game is gritty and violent and harsh. It’s basically misery porn and I understand that some people like that, but I really don’t want “close up of grumpy face” on my gaming shelf. Take your blood-soaked, angry teenagers and ludonarrative dissonance elsewhere, please. Can I look at something else now? 

GOOD – Cisco Heat

Now, this is more like it! I used to pick up Commodore 64 magazines when I was younger, and I always loved seeing the cover art and advertisements for Cisco Heat in said periodicals. It embodies my childhood idea of what America was like; sun and skyscrapers and cool police chases. When I look at this image, I think of summer, I think of rolling my Micro Machines around my bedroom floor, I think of watching Police Academy on video. Look at that subtitle – “All American Police Car Race”. That’s the stuff that my young, Beverly Hills Cop-inspired dreams were made of. And yes, I do also like the photo of the cop leaning on the cop car arcade machine. Who wouldn’t like that? Criminals, that’s who. 

GOOD – Halo 3

You could say, if you were so inclined, that the Halo 3 cover represents everything that’s wrong with big budget game covers from its era and beyond. It’s just the main character kind of standing there with a gun, it’s got that whole orange and teal, generic movie poster thing going on, but none of that matters, this is a masterpiece. Every subtle nuance combines to form a piece of box art that’s so inspiring it should be made into a 100 foot stained glass window and installed into a magnificent cathedral so that the morning sun can shine through it, reminding us of the trials and sacrifices of our saviour, Master Chief. The light, the shadows, the perfectly-poised, pre-action pose. This cover isn’t just epic, it’s transcendent. It depicts the precise moment that the ultimate hero of mankind steps into the light, ready to save us all.

GOOD – Secret of Mana

Hiro Isono was an incredible artist. His illustrations of otherworldly groves and mystical glades capture the complexity and detail of nature as well as its mysterious, sweeping majesty. When the lads at SquareSoft hit him up for a bit of cover art back in the early ’90s, it was an inspired move. After all, the driving force behind the lore of Secret of Mana is a giant, magical tree, and Isono is giant, magical trees. The result is a beautiful, somehow eerie, contemplative piece of art that details an event later in the game in a way that doesn’t spoil the story. It has the three leads, it has the roots of an enormous tree, it has some cool birds, and it’s so much more affecting than a picture of the protagonist posing with a sword (or an extreme close up of their grumpy face). The PS4 remake has more room on the cover to feature more of the illustration, so I should probably have displayed that one, but the SNES box presses all my nostalgia buttons. It’s my favourite box art, and I can’t see it being uprooted any time soon.

Donald in Maui Mallard – Retro Review

A Duck Pretending to be a Duck Pretending to be Another Duck

This is the second and last review I wrote for Sega Mania Issue 8, and as such is written from a 90’s perspective. This one had a couple of boxouts as well, which I’ve presented as best I can with any knowledge as to how to do layout properly.

Donald’s back, put possibly not quite how you remember him. Eschewing his usual, fashionably questionable sailor outfit, he’s arrived for his next action-packed platformer in a much more agreeable Hawaiian shirt and cap ensemble. That’s right, this is Maui Mallard, Donald Duck’s medium-boiled, crime-fighting alter-ego. The identity swapping doesn’t stop there, either. Maui Mallard has an alter-ego of his own. Cold Shadow is a black-clad ninja, a master of bo staff combat, and a proponent of nimbly leaping up narrow shafts. This explains the confusing situation of the game’s alternative title, Maui Mallard in Cold Shadow. Really, if we’re being accurate here, the game should be called Donald Duck in Maui Mallard in Cold Shadow, but I guess they would have run out of space on the spine. Whichever way you look at it, you’re going three-deep in Donald Duck personalities during the ninja sections, which is an experience in itself regardless of how good the game actually is.

Luckily, the game is really good. Donald in Maui Mallard is a platformer in the same vein as the cantankerous mallard’s previous Mega Drive escapades. However, Donald seems to have been doing some cross-fit training since the QuackShot days, as he has a much sleeker sprite, moves much faster, and controls a little bit looser. Where QuackShot (and indeed the Illusion series of Disney platformers) had a very considered pace with tight controls and forgiving platforming. Donald in Maui Mallard has a much more frantic feel, with enemies coming from all angles, more haphazard jumping controls, and platforms whose edges aren’t always clearly identifiable.

This screams Aladdin to me. You know, apart from with a ninja duck. There were no ninja ducks in Aladdin. Just an angry parrot.

In this way, it feels like it inhabits the lane between the “traditional” Disney platformers like the Illusion series, and the more modern Disney platformers based on the big, box office movies such as Aladdin and Lion King. This crossover can be seen in the art-style and the gameplay, as well as the mild jump in difficulty, and it could well be exactly what many Mega Drive owners are looking for.

Leaving his plunger gun at home, Donald as Maui is armed with a bug-launcher that fires insects that can be collected throughout the stages. The basic ammo has a fairly short range and takes a few shots to defeat most enemies, but upgraded invertebrates can be collected and even combined to form powerful, boss-bothering bullets or handy homing projectiles. The enemy designs are imaginative and in-fitting with the tropical, voodoo vibe, ranging from juicy-looking spiders to wild natives to zombie ducks. Maui has plenty of health to survive numerous enemy encounters, and there is a generous sprinkling of health-restoring power-ups to be found throughout the stages, but this generosity is offset by some devious level design and a fair few tricky platforming sections suspended over instant-death drops.

From the second stage onwards, Donald as Maui can take on the form of Cold Shadow. This feathered ninja warrior can take out most enemies with one thwack of his stick, and is a lot more manoeuvrable with a plethora of staff-based options to traverse the expansive levels in interesting ways. He can attach himself to various outcroppings and swing to higher platforms, and can wedge his stick in narrow shafts to gain the leverage he needs to leap higher. For the most part, you’ll want to play as Cold Shadow as much as you can, but there are times when Maui Mallard’s ranged attacks and bungee jumping abilities are preferable (or even necessary). In order to stay in his Cold Shadow form, Donald must collect symbols to stop a meter from ticking down. Luckily, these collectibles tend to respawn near tricky jumps that require Cold Shadow’s specific skills to negotiate, so you’ll never find yourself in a situation where you’re unable to progress, even if it can occasionally feel that way.

Both the Maui and Cold Shadow sprites are smooth and full of character, and have plenty of amusing idle animations to entertain you while you’re having a breather. The environment graphics are top notch, too, with sinister voodoo mansions, clandestine ninja hideouts and savage, moonlit savannahs all looking suitably atmospheric. The game has a dark and mysterious ambience, with later levels even taking on a bit of a Lovecraftian vibe, consisting of maddening death-worlds with bizarre architecture and gigantic, floating eyeballs. It’s not the kind of location you’d expect to be exploring in a Disney title, but I guess kids have to face up to the concept of hell dimensions at some point.

That’s right children, it’s always watching.

The music befits the tropical and occasionally occult vibe, usually taking the form of ambient accompaniment in lieu of catchy tunes that you’ll be whistling while you take the dog for a walk. Most of the tracks feature a pleasing and thematic beat to match the game’s quick and occasionally frantic pace, and you’ll probably find that your toes are tapping throughout. You’ll also hear plenty of sampled martial arts cries and grunts, artfully representing Donald’s new-found ninja skills.

As a platforming experience, Donald in Maui Mallard gets the basics right, and then takes you on a weird and wild journey of new ideas and unusual themes. Donald’s two distinct personalities offer different gameplay styles, and the levels that allow you to jump between the ninja and detective personas give you the freedom to take on enemies and obstacles however you please. The boss fights provide another layer of variety. Whether you’re unloading special bug ammo into the metallic spider boss of the first stage, or battering a floating lava-duck head around with your bo staff in the volcano level, the bosses are wacky, unique and appropriately challenging.

Remember Darkwing Duck? What about Count Duckula? Hey, remember that penguin from Wallace and Gromit?

The game isn’t without its frustrations. Platforming sections can occasionally be fiddly and unsatisfying, and there are moments when the way forward is unclear, but on the whole the challenge is well balanced between being accessible to kids and newbies and giving platforming pros and gaming veterans something to think about for a week or so. Donald in Maui Mallard feels like a modern Disney game. Whereas QuackShot was like playing an episode of Duck Tales and The Lucky Dime Caper was reminiscent of classic Donald cartoons or comic strips, the animation style and dark undertones on offer here exude that new and edgy ’90s style. It’s not quite as comfortable as the previous Disney mascot titles, but it’s not trying to be. This one is trying to get your heart pounding and act as your gateway to the concepts of dark magic, the risen dead and tribal sacrificial practices, rather than take you on a wistfully whimsical journey through wistful whimsy.

Donald in Maui Mallard is a glimpse into Disney’s darker side, but more importantly, it’s a very competent platformer with loads of personality. It won’t replace the likes of QuackShot and World of Illusion in my heart, but it will definitely sit proudly alongside them on my shelf. I suggest you find a place for it on yours.

Donald, P.I.

I mentioned in the main part of the review that Donald in Maui Mallard is a very modern-feeling Disney title, but there’s a hefty dose of the 1980s mixed in that makes that claim come across as a little tenuous. Maui Mallard, self-described “medium boiled” detective, is this game’s take on Tom Selleck’s Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV, the lead character in ’80s detective thriller series Magnum, P.I.

The similarities are plain to see – both are pistol-toting, Hawaiian-shirted heroes with action star qualities and effortless cool. Donald doesn’t have a well-groomed, bristly decoration on his upper lip, though, and I haven’t seen much evidence of him being a Vietnam vet either. Still, at least he can turn into a ninja at a moment’s notice and start cracking skulls with his bo staff. I don’t believe Mr. Selleck ever donned a headband and started performing ninjutsu techniques throughout the tropical beaches and bamboo forests of Hawaii. At least, I don’t think he did, but maybe I missed a few episodes.

Tick, Tick, Shabuhm

“So what’s Donald got himself involved with this time?” I hear you ask. Well, there’s a witchdoctor, you see, and he’s stolen the idol of Shabuhm Shabuhm from a tropical island. This idol is considered to be the island’s guardian spirit, and Donald as Maui as (occasionally) Cold Shadow needs to get it back. Our hero must track the nefarious shaman through the various locales of the island while winning over the natives and even taking a trip to the underworld, before coming face to face with the masked meddler and engaging in a climactic showdown.

The thing is, when you do finally meet the witchdoctor and find out what’s going on under that creepy tribal mask, it’s only going to cause more questions. I won’t completely spoil it, but let’s just say that this guy epitomises the term “air-headed”. That’s some bad mojo right there.

I hope you enjoyed this little look into what might have been if Sega Mania Magazine had kept going. I did actually start writing one more review, but I never finished it. It was on a Sega Saturn game called Robotica Cybernation Revolt, but I only wrote a snazzy, cyberpunk-style intro and never got into the review proper, mainly because I hadn’t played the game yet! Maybe I will one day…

 

RimWorld – Impressions

The Harrowing Trials and Tribulations of the Potato People

I held off on playing RimWorld for years after it first started showing up in my Steam discovery queue and my suggested YouTube videos. In terms of gameplay and premise, it was right up my street, but the visuals always turned me off. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some shallow ingrate concerned only with aesthetics, but a large part of the appeal of sim games for me is the visual interest of watching your settlement, theme park, zoo or other grow, and viewing the interactions of the denizens within. I can while away hours watching a junction in Cities: Skylines, for example, just observing as the traffic builds up, then filters through, then builds up, then filters through. Edit a junction or change a stretch of road, watch how it changes the flow. Watch the traffic build up, then filter through. I have a full and productive life.

Anyway, it was the hilariously and informatively presented videos of a YouTuber called ambiguousamphibian that finally caused me to take the plunge. 30 hours of gameplay later, here are my initial thoughts.

I really don’t like the visuals. Nothing has legs or arms, and everyone looks like a little potato person. Sometimes a colonist will have interesting hair, giving them some visual character, but then they’ll immediately put a hat on so that they look like a little potato man again. When they get shot or stabbed or scratched by cougars, cuts and slashes appear on them, giving the disturbing impression that they’re potatoes that bleed. I understand that the graphics are representative, and that rendering arms and legs would be quite an undertaking considering your colonists can and will lose limbs and then replace them with bionic implants, but I find it difficult to get attached to the little potato people, probably more so than if they were represented by icons or text.

If you can’t make out the text there, it’s saying that Cauchois’ brain is a mangled scar thanks to a shot from a revolver. This has … slowed her down somewhat. She used to be my finest builder.

The environment textures are very lacking as well. I immediately downloaded a mod that sharpens up the textures but you’re still going to be looking at basic, bare minimum visuals for the entirety. It’s fine, it is what it is, I wish there was a more appealing visual solution for a million-selling game, but I signed up for the addictive progression-based gameplay, the situations that can arise, and the stories that can play out.

RimWorld nails all of that stuff, especially if you’re brave and play on the harder difficulties. It’s the sort of game that generates water cooler talk. If you’re lucky enough to have a pal who also plays the game, you’ll be regaling each other with tales of tribal raids, cold snaps, giant insect infestations and killer guinea pig attacks for months to come.

A few years back, my wife and I used to play The Sims 3 a lot. We had completely different play-styles. She would create the perfect Sim, take total control of their lives, get them to work every morning, and try to make them as happy and fulfilled as possible (that’s if she ever got past meticulously creating said Sim’s perfect abode with the infinite money cheat). I would create a household of three or four, give them a mixture of good and bad traits, give the AI the maximum amount of control and just let events unfold, only intervening if I absolutely needed to.

There was another guy in this colony called Hella, but he died when a cougar bit off his arm. Said cougar ended up as lunch for the other colonists. It’s a harsh world sometimes.

RimWorld really rewards players who are somewhere in between the two. You’ll have to be in control to ensure your colonists survive the raids, harsh winters and other such dangerous occurrences the computer will throw at you, but rolling with the game’s mischievous tendencies to throw seemingly insurmountable odds at you is essential to really experiencing what RimWorld has to offer. It’s a story creator, and sometimes said stories may be tragic or hopeless, but they’re always fascinating. If you’re the type of player who would quit and reload if your favourite colonist got his arm ripped off by a passing warg, then this game isn’t for you. You’ve got to accept the rough as well as the smooth to get the ultimate RimWorld experience, and you’ll probably need lots of time to spare, too.

At only thirty hours and three colonies deep, I don’t really feel qualified to review RimWorld. I’ve not come anywhere near the endgame, and have barely scratched the surface of what this indie gem has to offer. However, I can say some things for certain already; this game is meticulously crafted, addictive, near-limitless in breadth, often melancholic in tone, and chock full of little potato people. It’s definitely got a-peel.

Aero the Acro-Bat – Retro Review

Bother in the Big Top

This review was written for Issue 8 of the sadly now defunct Sega Mania Magazine, as such it is written from a ’90s perspective.

Does anyone actually like the circus? I mean, I’m sure they were great in the olden times, when the only other forms of entertainment were gathering around the wireless or playing with a hoop and a stick, but do we really need them here in the futuristic ’90s? We have television, spectator sports and video games, bars and nightclubs, Pogs and Slinkies. I for one think that it’s time for circuses to go. The animals don’t want to be there, I question the motives and mental capacity of anyone who chooses to be a clown, and acrobats can use their impressive suppleness and contortionist abilities elsewhere. Maybe they can perform elaborate robberies or something.

Aero the Acro-bat for the Mega Drive has an unavoidable big top vibe, with the titular Aero being the game’s protagonist and the star of the in-game show. A villainous industrialist named Edgar Ektor has sabotaged the World of Amusement Circus and Funpark, and has kidnapped all of its performers, replacing them with nefarious, evil clowns and other such appropriately-themed bad guys. It’s fallen upon Aero to use his high-flying skills and acrobatic feats to save the day, rescue his girlfriend Aeriel, and put a stop to Ektor’s machinations. This includes taking care of Ektor’s lead henchman, a certain Zero the Kamikaze Squirrel.

Aero is contemplating the tiny, one-hit-kill spikes that infest every stage. Can you see it?

If you’ve seen Aero the Acro-bat before, you’ll know that he represents yet another developer having a dip into the “critters with ‘tude” well. This time it’s Sunsoft who have their straws out, attempting to slurp up some of Sonic’s lucrative success water. Have they backed a winner with this Chiropteran tumbler? I’m not so sure. The designers doubled down on the mean and cool attitude and forgot to add any charm or charisma. Also, he’s a circus performer, which means I immediately question his moral and social ideals.

Initial impressions paint Aero the Acro-bat as a fairly standard platformer, and it feels a little dated compared to some of the platformers that have appeared in recent years. Aero himself is somewhat stiff to control, and he commits that platformer hero sin of not being able to stop quickly, which can result in some aggravating slides into certain doom. The stages, while colourful, seem fairly lifeless, with levels that don’t evolve as you progress and forgettable enemy designs. There is some stage variety later on, with a few cool gimmicks that are mostly based on fairground rides, but nothing really stands out or sticks with you. Visually, this is closer to James Pond or Krusty’s Super Fun House than it is to Ristar or our iconic hedgehog pal.

A bat in a barrel, rolling past featureless trees and hills.

Mechanically, the level design philosophy seems frustratingly centred on catching the player out with traps that they could not have foreseen. The admittedly-large levels are littered with spikes, and said spikes are small and inconspicuous, and are often found in the most annoying of places. For example, some of the levels ask you to jump on certain platforms, which causes them to disintegrate, and you can be darned sure there are going to be spike pits underneath all of them. There’s a particular spiked pit during act two that you get dumped into immediately after a unicycle tightrope ride, the likes of which have thus far given you no reason to think they’re going to end in certain, spiky doom. This would all be fine if the spikes just made you lose some health, but these barbed bad boys are insta-death, baby.

If you’re a glutton for punishment, have oodles of time to spare, and enjoy memorising massive levels using a process of trial and error that involves lots and lots of dead bat, then you might get a lot of enjoyment out of Aero the Acro-bat, as there is satisfying gameplay to be found once you’ve mastered Aero’s initially-awkward dive attacks and formed your mental map of the levels. It’s a heck of a slog to get there though, and with its forgettable mascot, uninspiring visuals, small sprites and irritating, circus-themed music, you might not want to go through the trouble.

The rollercoaster section is just another memory test.

I can’t help but feel that the game doesn’t want you to have fun. Did you know that bats are the only mammal capable of true, full flight, and are even more nimble and agile when airborne than most birds? Not this one. He can hover for a bit, and can only fly temporarily after collecting a certain power-up. He’s also able to fire star projectiles, but they’re extremely limited, he starts with none, and the pick-ups are located in fiddly places to get to. Enemies are positioned specifically to catch you out, which you could say about your average Sonic the Hedgehog level, but Sonic’s zones are mostly focussed on fun, spectacle, exploration and a satisfying challenge, rather than just aggravating schmuck bait.

The Mega Drive is absolutely stuffed with top quality mascot platformers, and Aero, despite all of his impressive acro-bat-ics, struggles to even trouble the top 20. Perhaps he should go back to shooting soundwaves at unsuspecting moths or sucking blood out of horses. You know, all that bat stuff that real bats do.

I hope this was an enjoyable little extra for any Sega Mania fans out there. I wrote one more review for Issue 8 which I will be posting at a later date, and I may also be uploading some of my favourite reviews from throughout the mag’s seven issue run, so stay tuned! 

Xenoblade Chronicles 3

Live to Fight and Fight to Stay Awake

Alright, so that subtitle is a bit misleading. I didn’t find Xenoblade Chronicles 3 boring (rest assured I would not have stuck with it if I did), I just found it very, very comfy. I’ve already touched on this thought in my other writings that can be found in various corners of the internet, but a good JRPG is like a cosy duvet and a fluffy pillow, pyjamas and slippers and warm milk, and gentle rain pattering on the window. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 has a very long run-time, it has a battle system that, if you’re a bit over-levelled, can require very little input from the player, it has expansive, dream-like landscapes and an otherworldly ambient soundtrack. All of these factors and more combine to make it impossible for me to play this game for more than a couple of hours at a time without drifting off, controller in hand, as my chosen character idles in the middle of a battlefield surrounded by monstrous fauna. It’s alright though, because the rest of the party will take care of them, and the victory fanfare will usually wake me up.

Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a very typical JRPG in some ways, but completely does its own thing in others. The story follows a small group of soldiers under the banner of the nation of Keves, who soon get thrust together with a similar group of soldiers from the opposing nation of Agnus. The world is locked in a seemingly-eternal battle in which opposing sides kill to fill their “flame clocks” with the life energy of their fallen enemies. The people of this world seem to have a ten-year life span, appearing as a young teenager and “ascending” in their twenties, if they survive that long. These ten years of life are dedicated to a mysterious queen, and that’s about all you’ll know for quite some time. There are no traditional RPG towns, almost every settlement you come across is a military base inhabited by personal from one of the two major factions, and almost every NPC you’ll meet is a soldier in the never-ending war.

The battles are very flashy, with spells and effects going off everywhere. I found that the offensive classes were the most fun to play as, but others might prefer defence or support.

Noah is the main protagonist, and is an off-seer, a soldier tasked with playing those slain in battle off to the next life with his special flute. His role handily sets up the game’s contemplative tone, but the world is very slow to reveal its secrets. There’s an opening scene that initially seems barely linked to the rest of the story, and it’ll be ages before you even know who you’re fighting against. The story is definitely a slow-burner, but it’s okay because there’s plenty to keep you occupied. Huge areas to explore, extra-tough, bonus monsters to fight, side quests galore, and equipment and class systems that give endless scope for build-tweaking and customisation. If, like me, you’re not into all that min-maxing stuff, there is a handy auto-equip option that will get you through the main game absolutely fine.

The six main characters run the gamut of decent to extremely likeable, with the roguish Lanz and Eunie and the occasionally prudish Taion being my personal favourites. Each of these characters comes with a character class that fits into one of three categories; attack, defence or healing. They don’t have to stick to these classes though, and can be given another character’s class with the press of a button, gaining new weapons and a new move-set. This means that studious healer Taion can become a longsword-wielding damage-dealer, or front-line defender Lanz can be converted to a back-of-field support and healing role, should you so wish. Certain skills from certain classes can be carried over to new classes too, giving even more scope for customisation. There are numerous “hero” characters that you’ll encounter throughout the game, and these guys take up the seventh slot in your active party. They bring whole new classes to the mix which can also be equipped to your main party members, and there are loads of them in the main game and even more in the post-game, resulting in a galaxy of options when it comes to fiddling with character and party builds.

The battle system feels like it was pulled from something like World of Warcraft, with various skills available that slowly recharge after use. Initially, the battles are simple, consisting of standing your chosen character (you can control any of the main six) next to the enemy and letting them auto-attack, then activating special attacks as they become available. As you advance, the combat system becomes more intricate, adding layer upon layer of complexity with attack-types that can be chained into other attack-types, moves that can be cancelled into other moves, special abilities that can be activated by building up a metre, and other special abilities that can be activated by building up other metres. Positioning is very important, as certain attacks are more effective from certain angles, and you’ll charge your chain attacks quicker if you attack from the right direction. The chain attacks, once activated, tee up a kind of interactive, anime-style cut-scene event where everyone gets to do their cool moves in an order that you define. Even this is complex and multi-layered, as you’ll need to balance the build up to the finishing move in such a way that you boost your damage multiplier as much as possible. Also, characters can merge to form a single, extra-powerful being, which will open up even more options and approaches. Remember, if all of this seems too much, just stick to the basics and you’ll be fine. That is totally what I did.

Being able to turn into big, angelic robot things is just one of many wrinkles in a complex battle system.

The world is large and mostly open, with huge, bizarre structures and rock formations looming on the horizon that you might eventually find yourself climbing over later in the game. There are various boss enemies and supply caches hidden about the place, but if you’re not too into the crafting and stat-maximising side of the game, the containers you can find won’t seem like much of a reward. The world can feel lifeless despite the number and variety of monsters roaming about, but this is likely a deliberate attempt to communicate the war-torn nature of things, with the only humanoid denizens belonging to the various military colonies that are hidden in ravines or behind waterfalls. The creature design is very interesting, from buzzing wasp-type enemies to gigantic, thundering colossi that are probably way too high level for you to even contemplate going up against. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is not afraid to sprinkle its low level areas with high level enemies that you’ll be expected to come back and defeat much later in the game. This can occasionally result in you getting one-shotted by a rogue, high level monster that has snuck up on you while you were occupied with something else. Don’t worry, the party will just appear at the nearest safe area with nary a scratch on their pretty, anime faces.

Speaking of which, the characters are interesting and well-designed, with their outfits having an understated quality that eschews the over-the-top fantasy/steampunk clothing you might expect from games in this genre. The voice acting is mostly on point, and Xenoblade Chronicles 3 continues the series tradition of making almost everyone sound like they’re from Dickensian London, although there are definitely some Welsh, Irish, Scottish and Australian twangs in there, too. Again, my favourite character here is Lanz, whose exclamations of locating rare “doodahs” out in the field have become something of a meme in my household.

Even though I really enjoyed Xenoblade Chronicles 3, there are things about it that can make it difficult to recommend, especially to those with less experience in the JRPG scene. The battle system that initially seems barely interactive is the foremost of these stumbling blocks, but if you come in with an open mind, or you’re an RPG veteran, you’ll soon realise that there is a wealth of depth and strategy on offer. Despite these options and details, the battles rarely felt especially epic, even with the majestic visuals and stellar musical accompaniment. If a battle is too difficult for you, it doesn’t feel like there’s much you can do about it other than grind a few levels. This isn’t true of course; you can change your party composition by adding healers or defensive classes, or tweak your moves and equipment, but it’s all preparation and no skill, all science and no art. I also found that I became over-levelled after a chapter or so, and started to breeze through the story missions and most side-quests. I didn’t really need to pay attention during the battles, and that’s when the sleepiness set in.

The grand vistas offer clues as to where this is set in the Xenoblade Chronicles timeline. They also look all majestic and stuff.

I knew what I was getting into with Xenoblade Chronicles 3, but it still had its surprises. The story, though winding and very introspective, is interesting and has some surprising moments, the main characters are endearing, and there are some highlights among the secondary hero characters, too. The villains are less memorable, but they do the job. There are some awesome cut-scenes and some great vehicle and robot designs, and some gorgeous exploration music joins one or two memorable and epic battle themes on the soundtrack.

I enjoyed Xenoblade Chronicles 3 a lot. I enjoyed it, and then I got used to it, and then I took it for granted, and now I can’t play it without drifting off to dreamland. There is post-game content, but I think I’ll save it until the next time I’m suffering from a bout of insomnia.

Vigilante – Retro Review

Green-Trousered Rogues

As a kid growing up in rural Somerset, I didn’t see much in the way of gang violence (although I’d argue that a group of shifty-looking cows can be just as intimidating as a gang of ruffians with flick-knives), and my only experience of that culture came through films and music videos. Loading up Double Dragon or Target Renegade on the C64 was my chance to live out that Los Locos scene in Short Circuit 2 or pretend I’m one of those cool and mean-looking dancers in Michael Jackson’s “Bad” video.

Upon closer inspection, Vigilante for the Master System seems to have taken its cues from more adult-targeted media like 1979 film The Warriors, what with the antagonist gang being called the Rogues and all. No sign of David Patrick Kelly though. In fact, all the bosses of Vigilante’s Rogues are the “large and in charge” types, rather than diminutive, trouble-making rat-bastards.

The boss of the first level. Is it Bruiser Brody or Brian Blessed?

To me, Vigilante was the herald of the next generation of side-scrolling fighting games. After sampling the likes of Renegade and Bad Dudes Vs. DragonNinja on the C64 and Amstrad CPC, Vigilante was my first taste of streets-based violence on a console, and mighty impressed I was too. Bright colours, neat backgrounds and cool animations greeted my eager, innocent eyes, but what would my contemporary opinion be of this near-forgotten 8-bit beat-’em-up?

Well, it ain’t no Streets of Rage, that’s for sure. Released on the Master System in 1989, Vigilante is a port of a 1988 arcade game by Irem, and is apparently a spiritual successor to the 1984 arcade game Kung-Fu Master. An unnamed city has been overrun by crooks, thugs and ne’er-do-wells, and Maria, the protagonist’s girlfriend, has been unceremoniously chucked into the back of a van. It’s time for the titular vigilante to clean up the streets. The levels consist of a single, linear run towards a boss waiting at the end of the road. Contrary to what you might expect from the genre and the screenshots, there is no vertical movement, with our vigilante friend limited to a single, horizontal plane. Enemies will attack from either side, and you have punches, kicks and jumps at your disposal to fend them off.

As such, Vigilante plays less like a traditional scrolling beat-’em-up and more like some kind of violent rhythm game. This is because much of the game comes down to the timing of your button presses, especially when it comes to one particularly annoying thug-type whose modus operandi is to repeatedly rush in and attempt to grapple you. Seriously, these guys are the worst. Every other enemy will approach from either side of the screen, hold off for a bit as they get close, and then attempt to catch you out with an attack. The aforementioned grapplers, identified by their white vests and green trousers, will rush in at full speed, single-mindedly intent on locking you in an energy-sapping hold. Your only defence is to batter them before they get to you, but they come in so quickly that the timing is extremely precise. It’s difficult enough when just these green-trousered hooligans are rushing you from either side, but pair them up with other crooks and things can get immensely frustrating.

Look at him, coming in from behind while you’re occupied with t-shirt and jeans guy.

If you can survive this glut of grapple-happy nutters you’ll reach the boss at the end of the level. These guys are intimidating, but will soon fall once you figure out which of your attacks they’re particularly vulnerable to. Be careful not to let the boss push you too far back through the level though, as once you’ve defeated the stage’s head honcho you still have to walk to the end, and if you’ve gone too far back you can expect to be set upon by thugs and green-trousered grapple guys again.

I played the Master System version of Double Dragon so that I could compare the two, and there’s so much more to that than there is to Vigilante. The stages are larger, with vertical movement, pits and multiple height levels to traverse, you have more moves at your disposal, and Double Dragon has that all-important two-player mode. Vigilante looks nicer though, its alleyways, scrapyards and city skylines artfully delivering that retro urban vibe. Vigilante’s nameless city is a pretty cool place to be, it’s just a shame that I have to spend my entire time there desperately fending off infuriating bastards in fetching aquamarine slacks.

Played on Master System/Emulator

Dakar Desert Rally

Hooning in the Dunes

There’s something fascinating and visceral about rallying. It’s man and machine versus nature, and the battle takes place on muddy Welsh backroads, deep in snowy, Bavarian pine forests or across the arid outback of Australia. Skilled drivers exhibit courage beyond reason as they fling noisy, high-powered, sponsor-festooned automobiles around trees, through rivers, and along the edge of ravines. It’s the rough, messy antithesis to Formula 1’s high-end, super-rich glitz and glamour, and it’s way more entertaining.

I’ve owned my share of rally games in the past, mainly sticking to the Colin McCrea series of simulations that later evolved into the more Ken Block-influenced DiRT games, through which I learned the meaning of the word “hoon.” Despite all of the outrageous stunts, cool music and bright colours of the more recent titles, I’d take sliding a Peugeot 205 around the Finnish countryside in the pissing rain over screeching around a gymkhana event in a Ford Focus plastered with Monster Energy logos any day of the week.

I tried to capture the lightning strikes in this screenshot. I really tried. You’ll just have to trust me when I say that it looks super-cool.

I’ve been more-or-less aware of the Dakar Rally event, but I’ve never looked into it too deeply. The idea certainly appeals to me though; man and machine versus nature again, this time in a harsh, desert environment, careening over dunes and navigating through blinding sandstorms. When I spotted a few trailers for the new Dakar Desert Rally game (and spotted its very reasonable price point), I thought that it was time to take the plunge. I’ve been burned out a little by lengthy JRPGs after all, so it was time to try something a bit different and scratch that old racing game itch.

Dakar Desert Rally takes place in open environments with courses laid out using waypoints. Your job is to validate all the waypoints and get to the finish line as quickly as possible. There are three main game modes on offer, which range in difficulty and intensity. In Sport mode, the next waypoint is clearly highlighted on screen and you’ll be leaving the starting line with three other racers, making for a more arcade-y experience. In Professional mode, you’ll be racing against the clock without the aid of highlighted waypoints, instead being forced to find your way by using your roadbook notes, keeping an eye on your compass, and listening to your navigator. Lastly, Simulation mode is like Professional mode but with no restarts and higher repair costs at the end of each stage.

I started out in Professional mode, hoping to get that real Dakar Rally experience. It’s certainly intense, with information being fired at you constantly as you try to keep an eye out for errant rocks and trees. Your roadbook will flash up on the right-hand side of the screen, overwhelming you with symbols and arrows and arrows that go through symbols, while your co-pilot constantly feeds you audio information as well. Not only will your passenger warn you of dangers like jumps, fords and extended downhill sections, he’ll also feed you compass points and call out sudden turns. This mode takes some practice, because if you want to do well, you’ll need to keep your eyes and ears on many factors all at the same time, all while still maintaining those breakneck speeds. Relying solely on the vocals of your buddy and ignoring the roadbook and compass won’t cut it, as occasions such as him calling out a “keep right” instruction only for the course to veer off to the left seem to be fairly common. I’m ashamed at how often I found myself circling aimlessly out in the wilderness as the co-pilot fed me compass point numbers in a disappointed tone, desperately trying to get me back on track.

There’s nothing quite like the open dunes. Unless you’re in a vehicle that isn’t too good at jumping and landing, then things will get very flippy, very quickly.

Eventually, I dropped down to Sport mode, and after I’d gotten over the initial pangs of failure and shame, I started to have a lot more fun. While it’s still possible to get lost if the next waypoint is behind a hill and the instructions aren’t completely clear, being more confident about where you need to go allows you to really put your foot down and concentrate on the racing. You’ll also notice that Sport mode still features the staggered starts of Professional mode, only with groups of four starting ahead of you and behind you instead of single racers. This can lead to some awesome moments where you catch up with a different class of vehicle while still fighting for position against the guys who started alongside you. There’s nothing quite like blasting up the side of a dune in a badass 4×4 while bikes, trucks and buggies jostle for position all around you.

Combining these moments with Dakar Desert Rally’s stellar weather effects are when the game really reaches its action-packed crescendo. While the environments look great in clear weather, barrelling through epic thunderstorms, fierce blizzards (yep, in the desert) and intense sandstorms is bare-knuckle racing at its finest. The developers (Portugal-based team Saber Porto) have done a fantastic job with the more extreme weather effects, with dramatic lightning strikes and impressive rainstorms offering up some variety amidst the admittedly-pretty clear skies and desert sunsets.

The experience is far from perfect, though. Odd physics and some glitchy collision detection will occasionally send you flying unfairly, and overly aggressive AI drivers will sometimes ruin your day. More egregious issues include slowdown and some absolutely killer loading times. The game has a too-common habit of chugging when you pass a waypoint, which can cut through your concentration and make you lose that all-important racing line. The load-times are also frustrating, and are an absolute bastard if you’ve wrapped your quad bike around a tree right at the beginning of the race and want to restart. While we’re on the subject of quad bikes, said four-wheeled steeds are a nightmare to control, handling like bars of soap, and turning you in the opposite direction at the slightest opportunity. Seriously, the quad bikes can get directly in the bin. The cars, bikes, trucks and buggies are all fine, though.

The trucks are so big they can block your view a bit. That still doesn’t mean I’m going to use the cockpit view though…

Some racing game fans might lament the lack of variety, but really, if you’ve bought a game called Dakar Desert Rally you should expect lots of deserts and rallying and not much else. It’s different enough to the more traditional rally games to warrant a place alongside them on a driving enthusiast’s gaming shelf, and in Sport mode it’s definitely able to provide some MotorStorm-esque arcade thrills, too. Dakar Desert Rally isn’t the top racing game around, and nor is it the first one you should choose, but if you’ve worn out your tyres on Forza, run out of fuel with Gran Turismo, and ground your gears to dust in Project Cars, there’s definitely plenty of fun to be had here for those that want to try something a bit dirtier.

Go on; go hoon along some dunes.

Played on PS4