Star-Crossed Amanti

Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Sicily, where we lay our scene. Yet though Isabella was a Torrisi born, fair Enzo was naught but a corusu working in the mines for the Spadaro family syndicate. Mafia: The Old Country is a game that has you in the shoes of a young man struggling to make his mark on the world. Sold into slavery, all Enzo has known is the mines until one day, when his friend is killed, he stands up against the oppressive Il Merlo before escaping.

Releasing in August 2025, Mafia: The Old Country is a game from developer Hanger 13 and works as a prequel to the Mafia franchise, which were predominantly set in the ficional city of Empire Bay. Mafia: The Old Country scales it all back by placing the players in the Sicilian countryside. And while the scenery is pretty, I found the game lacking – especially by the way it tried to force a lacklustre open-world.

In fact, I would have preferred it if the game had not sought to tack on an open-world aspect to the game and kept it as linear as possible. While a free update brought in ‘Free Ride’ option to the game, the Valle Dorata never truly came alive due to the lack of any meaningful sidequests or activities. Rather, the open-world portion of the game felt like a huge empty collectathon for pictures, newspapers and saint cards that added little to the overall experience beyond fulfilling the requirements for a trophy. Hardly riveting gameplay though it was enough to sustain my interest as long as I had a video essay going on in the background.

Much like Star Wars Outlaws before it, Mafia: The Old Country is a third-person action game where Enzo hides behind waist-high cover and occasionally pops out to shoot at his enemies with a variety of weapons he can cycle through. The only reason why I might have used a few different guns instead of sticking to my favourites? To unlock a few trophies along the way. Otherwise, most times, I was usually creeping around a map and choking out enemies to ensure I managed to stealthily reach the unskippable cutscene and pop whichever hidden trophy I’d scoped out beforehand.

The only thing Mafia: The Old Country added were intense knife fights. Yet each time these events came about, I was surprised why Enzo or one of his enemies didn’t just reach for a handgun they should have been armed with earlier and just shooting.

Were they a fun dance? Most assuredly. Did it make sense in the grand scheme of the plot? Only about half the time.

My other gripes with the game came from the floaty vehicles Enzo drove around. I found, during my playthrough, that I much preferred riding a horse around the rural countryside rather than deal with the finicky cars I was given. The thought of having to stop and refuel also rubbed me the wrong way given the opportunities of earning extra dinari felt limited to replaying chapters and looting them off corpses.

Admittedly, the Free Ride add-on did provide multiple challenges across the map wherein Enzo might earn his keep as a soldato of the Torrisi family, none actually felt fun or contributed much to the narrative being told.

Gameplay woes aside, I did enjoy the story presented in Mafia: The Old Country. From the very start, Enzo engaged me far more than Kay Vess. While the story does lean on particular stereotypes, I did not mind seeing our poor suffering protagonist go from working in a sulfur mine to slowly becoming embroiled in the world of the mafioso. His easy banter with a young Leone Galante, the budding friendship with Cesare Massaro and his romance with Isabella Torissi kept me going.

Then, of course, there was Enzo’s relationship with Gianluca Trapani. Underboss of the Torrisi Crime Family, Luca served as a firm but fair mentor to Enzo. It was he who took Enzo under his wing and vouching for him when Enzo finally joins the family. It is his death near the end of the game, after the Torrisi family are ambushed by Don Spadaro and Baron Fontanella at the Galante tuna factory that sets Enzo on his path to break away from the violent world of feuding families.

Unfortunately for our protagonist, there is no happy ending. When Tino, and then Don Torrisi, hears of the affair between Enzo and Isabella, he is apoplectic with rage. In spite of the loyalty Enzo had displayed (as well as the danger he put himself in), he would forever remain a mine boy and unworthy of Isabella’s hand. Don Torrisi even rails at the fact he gave Enzo everything. The ‘everything’ in question being the very same sulfur mine Enzo had escaped from – but not his daughter.

While a part of me felt like this could have been resolved if Enzo had come clean earlier (he had, after all, told Isabella that once he had gained the Don’s trust, he would ask for his blessing), the final confrontation between the two also proved that no matter what heights Enzo might have aspired to, he would forever be tarnished by his origins. This was also evident in Enzo’s final confrontation with Cesare, who, after being overlooked for a higher position in the family, seemed jealous of Enzo’s success (it was, in my opinion, giving Nishiki and Kiryu vibes).

Perhaps, given time, Enzo’s supposed betrayal might have stung less. But, come on, the guy was barely surviving everything the plot was trying to do to keep him down. And then you bring him in for a hug and stab him?

Cesare, I thought better of you! Especially when he let you live when he could have so easily killed you earlier!

Which, I suppose, was the point. Mafia: The Old Country is a tragedy much like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

That said, I’m surprised no one ever wondered why Enzo chose never to sleep with the courtesans. While I think it might have been funny if some of them might have thought Enzo was gay, the fact none of Enzo’s friends cottoned on to him and Isabella just goes to show just how blind the rest of the Torrisi family were when it came to corusu from the Spadaro mines.

At least Isabella got to avenge Enzo by killing Tino. Which, in my humble opinion, was well-deserved. Even if the game resolutely tries to show just how weak and powerless a woman in early 1900s Sicily was. Tino was an old man! Why was Isabella struggling to even bring a knife down on him?

After nine years, Mafia: The Old Country released with little fanfare and proved to be a divisive entry to the franchise. While I enjoyed the tragic tale, with its glimmer of hope at the end, I struggled with the general gameplay and the tacked on open-world which had little to no exciting features except an endless list of collectibles. Worst of all, it failed to include quality-of-life aspects – such as the ability to drop a waypoint or highlight the location of a collectible. Then, of course, there was no way to unlock the locations FOR each and every collectible except to either comb the map from one end to the other OR look up an online guide.

Should there ever be a follow-up to Mafia: The Old Country – whether we see what the future entails for Isabella Torrisi and her unborn child or if the developers decide to go in a completely different direction – I’d like to see them address the core issues tied to their limited gameplay. Especially when the open-world aspect for Mafia: The Old Country felt half-baked at best and completely unnecessary at worst.

On the plus side, I think I’ve learned several choice Italian/ Sicilian swear words that I might try to employ. ‘Figgh’i buttana’ anyone?

Nobody Gets Left Behind or Forgotten

When it comes to the Star Wars universe, most stories revolve around the conflict between the Jedi and the Sith. Occasionally, tehy will you instead into the boots of an Imperial stormtrooper or an agent of the Rebel Alliance. It is rare indeed when the protagonist of a Star Wars IP is one of the countless milliions just looking to survive, instead of being an active member in the galactic fight between good and evil. Star Wars Outlaws is an attempt to buck this trend by casting you, the player, in the role of a down-on-her-luck would-be thief.

The controversies of Ubisoft aside, Star Wars Outlaws is a strong foray into something a little different. While many online warriors decried the game as ‘woke’ for having an ‘unattractive female protagonist,’ I found there was much to love: from the relationship between Kay Vess and ND-5 (Nix too) to how story beats melded into gameplay. My one major nitpick of it all? Kay Vess’s initial motivation for her journey out into the wider galaxy beyond Canto Bight and the lack of a juicy narrative hook to get me invested into the story.

In musical theatre, there is usually a song at the start that lays out the goals of the protagonist and sets up the general theme for the ensuing two hours and a half. In the case of Kay Vess, the only thing she wants is survival. Unfortunately, when it comes to the typical Hero’s Journey, this isn’t what many would deem a worthy objective. In fact, the first few hours into Star Wars Outlaws would have been more narratively satisfying if Kay Vess had actually sworn off doing anything criminal. She is, after all, just looking to keep a roof over her head. Why not go legitimate (it makes more sense her starting point be anywhere else but a two-bit thief especially given her strained relationship with her mother) before being brought back into the world of underworld syndicates? In my humble opinion, it would have made more sense from a character standpoint AND explain why she was seemingly so naive about machinations of the criminal underbelly.

Or, perhaps, the writers should have gone the route of Final Fantasy XII – the most Star Wars-esque of the Final Fantasy games. True, Vaan is often derided as the main protagonist but hey, at least he knew what he wanted: a sky pirate. Perhaps if Kay Vess had said that she wanted to leave Canto Bight because of a grand dream, it would have made more narrative sense why she was risking life and limb for dangerous but rewarding jobs. Elsewise, I believe Star Wars Outlaws would have been better served setting up Kay as a veteran scoundrel whose carefully planned out heist of Sliro’s mansion goes horribly wrong (look no further to the Jet Kordo recordings of how it might have played out), where Kay painstakingly picks up the pieces and assembles a new crew.

Instead, Kay is just your solo operator, struggling to make ends meet in the Worker’s District of Canto Bight. Rather than finding gainful employment, she is adamant about somehow striking onto the next big score so she and Nix can potentially live in comfort for the rest of their lives (and away from the brewing conflict between the Empire and the Rebels). Foreplanning and luck, however, are not her strong suits and she is chased down by the Sixth Kin members who rough up her benefactor: Bram Shano. Knowing she needs to find a way offworld, a reluctant Bram offers Kay the job he had not wanted to give her at first.

The job, of course, goes horrendously wrong but Kay is able to escape on the Trailblazer and winds up crashing on Toshara. There, she enlists the aid of the first scavenger to chance upon her ship: a Rodian named Waka. Her first order of business? Finding the credits and/ or parts needed to repair the Trailblazer.

It is this first act which serves as a introduction for the wider Star Wars Outlaws. On Toshara, Kay learns the ropes of managing her reputation between rival syndicates as well as how to take on contracts to pad out her somewhat thin resume. She is alos able to find experts to assist her along the way, including a speeder mechanic (who she exchanges a few flirtatious looks with) and a veteran slicer (who comments how similar Kay is to her absent mother).

Of course, just as Kay manages to find the parts she needs to repair the ship, Waka betrays her (as is scoundrel fashion). However, before the bounty hunter Vail can claim the Death Mark placed on her, Kay is saved by ND-5, a droid in the employ of one Jaylen Vrax. This act of kindess, though, is not without its price. Jaylen, a fellow outlaw like Kay, is looking to set up a thieving crew to break into Sliro’s Vault.

So begins the much meatier second act of the game where Kay journeys to multiple systems in the Outer Rim to fit out the crew she needs to pull off the heist. Before too long, Kay is joined by Ank and Gedeek. And while Kay does try to recruit Hoss, he is killed in Jabba’s palace and the fledling crew pivot. Enter the rebel Asara and Kay’s missing mother Riko.

Despite selling itself as a heist story, Star Wars Outlaws is truly a story about family. Those you might be related to by blood, but also the family you find. This is exemplified by the bonds Kay makes with her fellow crew members even though she was taught at an early age not to expect assistance from anyone (including her own mother). Her insistence on rescuing Nix, and then ND-5, in spite of the danger it puts herself in, shows what she truly values in life. And while it is also true Kay does not care for causes, she is still a woman of principles that will drop everything for the people she loves.

The one important thing about playing Star Wars Outlaws is realising Kay is no Jedi. She does not have access to any Force powers. Nor does she wield a lightsaber. Instead, she relies heavily on her shooting prowess. Think every single over-the-shoulder third-person shooter with waist-high cover and red explosive barrels every five feet or so.

While the gameplay isn’t exactly inspired, it is serviceable – with a few changes to the tried-and-true formula as Kay mixes up the modules to her blaster as needed. While most enemies will fall to her usual blaster fare, Kay also has access to an ion module, as well as a power one (which sends out an explosive bolt that can even damage walls). Her other core talent is knocking people out with a good ol’ punch to the head. And though one might think it would simply knock your enemies out, the default dialogue would indicate Kay is so powerful she is able to kill nearly everyone with a single blow. Who knew she was secretly One Punch Woman?

The other gameplay elements of the game fit around this core system – including scavenging parts in remote chests across four vast open-world maps, speeder chases and dogfights in space. That said, I did feel like the speeder was a little too floaty and janky for my tastes (despite the fact I palyed the game a year and a half after its release) and the Trailblazer felt almost cumbersome in comparison as it engaged in dogfights in space.

Would the game have been better served as a linear experience a la the Uncharted series? Most likely, but I suppose there is something to be said about the the gameplay cycle of accepting contracts and playing each criminal syndicate against each other to scrape every single possible credit one might need for gear and ship upgrades.

The one saving grace in what could be best described as fairly mediocre gameplay? Playing Kessel Sabaac. It’s like playing two-card poker that gives you three rounds to make the best combination you can to beat the other players. Mixing it up, too, are a number of cheats (which I found I didn’t really need) and a number of tokens to ensure a game might end in your favour (Cook the Books, anyone?).

Set between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, I did also appreciate the number of cameos Star Wars Outlaws managed to cram in. That said, I did feel the presence of Darth Vader cheapened the experience a little given its focus on the outlaws of the wider Star Wars galaxy. Which is why, of course, I appreciated the appearance of one Lando Calrissian and Han Solo (still trapped in carbonite).

Overall, I would say the pros outweighed the cons when it came to Star Wars Outlaws. While I am certain a sequel would have better served the characters, I also know it has been cancelled in lieu of restructures and a preference for other IPs at Ubisoft. Still, Star Wars Outlaws was unafraid to test something new. Was it life-changing? No. But it didn’t need to be. I just wish I got to see more banter between Kay and Vail after the two reached an understanding. I’m sure if Star Wars wasn’t a Disney property, we might have seen more sapphic representation. And honestly, that’s the only thing I really care about in this day and age.

Humanity’s Legacy

If humans were to be wiped from the Earth tomorrow, what would be its legacy? Would we be judged for the senseless violence mete out against foreign nations due to the perceived need for land and resources? Or will our virtuous charitable deeds paint the story of a heroic race of do-gooders willing to set aside self-interest for the greater good? Looking across history, it’s hard for me to believe the latter is how we will be remembered. Yet Stellar Blade seems to argue that humanity is still worth saving in spite of this.

As a self-described misanthrope, I have always struggled to see what much of our media calls ‘humanity’ in the actions of others. Where is the kindness and benevolence that we ascribe as the quintessential element of humans in what is currently happening in the world?

No. We are fast approaching a dystopian nightmare where authoritarian regimes reign supreme. And it is for this very reason I could not continue with Papers, Please – a bureacratic roguelike that highlights the bleak nature of living in such a world.

But back to Stellar Blade.

Releasing in April 2024, Stellar Blade was the first console game for Korean game devloper: Shift Up. Published by Sony Interactive, the game garnered much attention. Especially among the action-adventure audience who liked their games with a tinge of Soulslike combat with a focus on parrying attacks and ruthlessly respawning enemies as soon as you hit a rest area. There was, as well, the EVE factor with the main protagonist looking VERY conventionally attractive with some very impressive assets (and the option to change her outfit to flaunt off her enviable physique).

Then, of course, there was the ‘controversy.’ Something which I avoided because it felt like it was making a mountain out of a mole hill. Besides, I had too many video games to get to. And even now I’m still desperately playing catch-up (although I believe the developers are now embroiled in some new hot water relating to AI).

After all, for every Stellar Blade there is a Star Wars Outlaws. And I also need to make my way through Dragon Age: Veilguard. Don’t even get me STARTED on Metaphor Re: Fantazio! Despite all these titles still in my backlog, at time of writing, I’m still wondering if Legends of Heroes: Trails Beyond the Horizon will ever grace the Nintendo or PlayStation store in Australia. So, you know, priorities.

The only thing that truly drew my ire when it came to the game? How Stellar Blade fumbled its narrative in the end. But we’ll get to that in time.

The narrative casts you in the strapping high heels of EVE – a member of the 7th Airborne Squad, which is an elite unit hoping to liberate the Earth from the grip of the alien-like Naytibas. Unlike most video game protagonists, she does not sport an American accent. Rather, EVE is deliciously British. And while she does not have the natural charisma of Bayonetta, I do feel like the Umbra Witch very much influenced EVE’s design.

Following their disastrous initial assault, where all her squad members are killed, including Tachy, her commanding officer (and who, in my headcanon was in a relationship with our slightly less than competent and naive protagonist). Before she can succumb to her own wounds, EVE is rescued by Adam – a human scavenger left behind on Earth after the ‘Final War.’ The two decide to work together, with EVE assisting Adam retrieve a Hyper Cell from the ruins of Eidos 7.

After retrieving the pwer source, and uncovering another fellow Airborne member in the form of Lily (would it have been more on the nose if she had been named Lilith instead?), Adam takes the two to Xion (which I kept pronouncing the Kingdom Hearts way. But which the game would have me believe is pronounced ‘Zion’ like the last human city in the Matrix trilogy), a bastion for the surviving humans on Earth.

It is here they meet Orcal, the city’s leader and supposed prophet. Unlike most of the other humans in Xion, he is more machine than human. In exchange of the Hyper Cell, Orcal informs EVE that in order for her to complete her mission to kill the Elder Naytiba, she must collect four cores from Alpha Naytibas. This would create a key granting her entry to the Naytiba nest where the Elder Naytiba resides.

Cue the structured narrative where EVE is forced to go on numerous fetch quests to complete her task.

While the main narrative was primarily focused on collecting Hyper Cells and Alpha Cores, the side quests were where the citizens of Xion were humanised even though it became increasingly obvious they weren’t exactly organic. From the masks worn by the guards to Enya’s admittedly robotic frame and body. Then, there was EVE’s discussion with Digg2r where he opines on what it means to have a soul and the nature of sentience when it comes to artificial beings.

Themes which, of course, were tackled earlier in works of NieR: Automata. Admittedly, I have not played the title but I’ve seen enough video breakdowns and read enough internet dissertations to understand Stellar Blade doesn’t quite reach the same heights in terms of its world-building and atmosphere of a post-apocalyptic world.

This was especially prevalent during EVE’s confrontation with Raven and Adam’s ‘villain’ monologue at the end. Let’s start with Raven, shall we?

Throughout EVE’s quest to collect Alpha Cores, she stumbles upon Legacies left behind by the 2nd Airborne Squad. In it, Raven reveals the truth of the humans: they are androids who sought to replace the existing humans. In order to ensure their survival, humans dabbled with methods to enhance speed up their evolution and find a means to fight back, resulting in the creation of Naytibas.

Raven, having been driven insane by this knowledge, defects to the Elder Naytiba’s side. Unfortunately, he does not see her as a worthy specimen to join up with and instead intends to fuse witih EVE to create a new human race (how this actually works isn’t exactly explained well. Nor does the game really make Adam truly empathetic during this moment as he talks about past regrets but doesn’t provide enough context or time for EVE, or the player character to make their decision). Her final fight reads like a jealousy-filled rage. If Bechdel tests could be applied to actual characters, Raven would have failed miserably.

Honestly, if they had made the penultimate boss a fight with a corrupted Tachy (especially with her personal connections to EVE), it would have felt more bittersweet. While they DO bring Tachy back for the second Alpha Naytiba fight, it would have been better from a narrative plotbeat if her and EVE fought over ideological differences. Plus, you know, my own personal headcanon where they might have been romantically entangled.

Then, of course, there was Adam, revealed as the Elder Naytiba in disguise. And though allusions are made to his actual identity, it would have been better in the final confrontation if Adam had provided more of a exposition lore dump and admitted he was actually Raphael Marks (rather than it be explained through his database entry).

Then his whole plan was to fuse with EVE because the Andro-Eidos and Naytibas could not coexist? What does that even actually achieve? Where did Adam even go? Is he a disembodied voice in EVE’s head? Can Andro-Eidos even procreate? If not, how does it even further the human race?

Honestly, the decision to refuse his offer and return to the Colony made more sense from a narrative and character standpoint as it showed EVE was sceptical of the ‘truth’ she had been fed and was searching for answers. A sequel could have seen EVE fight against Mother Sphere or finding a means to preserve humanity’s legacy.

That said, one can clearly see Mother Sphere was DEFINITELY created by a man. For, if the Andro-Eidos can’t procreate and Mother Sphere just creates all the ‘humans,’ there is absolutely no need to design any of the Airborne Squads in the way they look in the game. But also, Mother Sphere’s preferred form is a lolita-esque girl? Please. Raphael Marks, your terrible tastes are showing.

Gameplay-wise, Stellar Blade is flashy and polished. But though some of its mechanics could be described as Soulslike, the game also included numerous difficulty options and had accessibility options that made certain activities funner. What threw me, though, was the fact EVE’s ponytail could only be changed in the Options menu rather than be a choice when she gets it styled at the hair salon in Xion.

While the combat did have its moments, I found the introductions of ultimate attacks by the last few bosses the most egregious to avoid (mostly because I always seemed to be low on ammo for the drone-gun and the fact auto-aim usually kept it aimed at the main body of the boss rather than on the orbs I needed to shoot at to interrupt their attack within the time limit). Still, the provision of Water Pumps to instantly revive was a life-saver to keep EVE pushing through until the end.

I also enjoyed the fishing, once I’d set up the accessibility options to make it easier, and found it relaxing. My main gripe with the gameplay was how floaty the platforming could be as even though EVE was at a height where she could grab the lip of a platform, she would not do so until I found the double-jump. This, obviously, meant I had to return to maps to ensure I managed to grab all the collectibles (in the end, though, I still missed ONE camp – presumably in the Desert), which was somewhat irritating.

Despite the terrible endings to Stellar Blade, I still enjoyed my time with the game. I suppose what made the ending to Stellar Blade worse was that I could see where they were going but they didn’t quite nail the execution. In fact, I would have preferred if there was a little more game where EVE could have come to her own decision instead of having Adam present her an ultimatum because the developers ran out of time to have it reach a more natural conclusion.

On a side note, I would have also liked it if Raven and Lily had changed names as the game was clearly trying to stress its biblical creation metaphor.

While I’m not sure the direction a sequel might go, the developers might have suffered a blow to its reputation by trying to push generative AI usage. But we shall see! At the very least, I hope they’re able to provide a more satisfying conclusion to whatever future game they develop.

Stepping into the Spotlight

Everyone knows the main protagnoist of the Legend of Zelda franchise is the hero Link. Wearing his iconic green outfit and wielding the Master Sword, he often embarks on a quest to rescue the titular Priness Zelda from the clutches of Ganon (or whichever rendition he might be depending on the game in question). Occasionally, Zelda will fight alongside Link, providing him assistance with light magic. Yet while this premise still plays out during the initial opening moments of The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom, Nintendo dares to flip the scrip for the first time in a long while. After freeing Zelda, it is Link who falls into the Still World and it is up to our favourite princess to save both him and the world from falling into disrepair.

There is a lot to love in Echoes of Wisdom, from the distinct visual style to the changes in combat. More importantly, by placing the emphasis on Princess Zelda as the main character, the game is able to put a unique spin on the tried and true formula that comes with Legend of Zelda titles.

Narratively, Echoes of Wisdom maintains a traditional three-arc story structure. Despite Ganon being banished by Link, rifts continue to spread around Hyrule. After returning to the castle where her father, the King, waits, a rift swallows both the monarch and his two loyal advisors before spitting out evil doppelgangers. Princess Zelda is then imprisoned in her own castle, awaiting execution. Powerless, it is not until a fairy by the name of Tri arrives, that Zelda is able to escape, now armed with the Tri Rod to summon up echoes of objects and monsters.

With these new powers at her command, Zelda embarks on a journey to close the rifts and rescue those trapped in the Still World – such as her father and Link. This involves travelling to the Gerudo Desert and Jabul Waters (where we see both River and Sea Zora) to assist them with their recent troubles. Along the way, Zelda faces off against dastardly foes as well as a fake impostor Link that does battle with one of his iconic weapons: sword, bow and bombs.

It is not until she returns to Hyrule Castle where she manages to rescue her father and defeat an echo of Ganon that the true antagonist reveals their identity as Null. Despite peace being restored to her home, the rest of the world is still in danger. Stepping into her role as Priestess, Zelda then journeys to Elden Mountain, the Faron Wetlands and Hebra Mountain to repair the rifts at the shrines dedicated to the Goddesses: Din, Nayru and Farore.

With their blessing, Zelda then ventures to the Eternal Forest where the Prime Energy dwells (shorthand, I suppose, for the Triforce). Unfortunately, Null is one step ahead. Having created an echo of Zelda herself, Null descends into the depths of the world and obtains the Triforce of Power. Though strengthened by a portion of the Prime Energy, Null realises they need all three to return the world into the void from which it originated from. Null targets Link first. Armed, however, with Courage and Wisdom, Link and Zelda fight back – ultimately destroying Null and granting the various Tris the ability to restore the world.

Thematically, Echoes of Wisdom does not stray too far from its tales of good versus evil; of selflessness in the face of danger. While we did get to see an interesting character arc from the leader of the Gorons: Darston as he wrestles with taking on the mantle of chief and indecision, the rest of the conflicts in Hyrule felt watered down and simplistic (now, if only Dradd and Kushara would just kiss, I’m sure all the troubles between their two tribes would be mended).

But what stood out to me the most during my playthrough of Echoes of Wisdom was how different Zelda played in contrast to Link. Like the princess she is, Zelda is not one for the front lines (except when she’s able to pick up a rock and yeet it at the nearest monster). Rather, she fights with the echoes of enemies she’s already defeated. Like a general directing her forces. Or a princess, in this case, commanding her subjects. After all, she IS wisdom personified. There’s no need to risk herself in open warfare.

While Zelda does have access to many an echo, I found I would often rely on some tried and true favourites. Like the shark whenever there was a swimming portion, or the lynel during late-game battles. While I liked the Wizzrobes, I also liked using the Albatrawls as they seemed more willing to attack than Kreese echoes and, after powering up Tri, you could summon six of them at a time.

Traversal also saw a few changes when playing as Zelda. This included summoning Platbooms, Flying Tiles and countless beds to get where I needed to go. While I’m certain there were other tried and true methods I could have used, these were my favourite tools to brute force a method to get where I wanted and explore the entirety of the map.

Not to mention the various accessories! Zelda, girl, you’re so stylish! And don’t get me started on the various outfits she can also obtained through the game.

I suppose my only gripe with Echoes of Wisdom was that there was no way for Zelda to dash. And, by the time she unlocked her own steed, it was much easier to fast travel to all the unlockable warp points scattered across the map. Even with the slower loading speed that comes from it being a game relegated to the Nintendo Switch.

Overall, I very much enjoyed my time with The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom. From its art style to the changes in gameplay, there was a lot to love. While the story hewed close to its roots, I still enjoyed my time exploring Hyrule and putting the world to rights. Now, if only it was as easy to do in real life.

By the time this post goes live, it’ll be February 19th and goodness knows what will have happened to the world by then.

In other news, I finished a new horror short story at the end of 2025! And after waiting a day, started on a new one titled: The Box of Dreams that will be told from two perspectives. It’s set in the fictional Australian town of Woollanoogatta and there will be monsters that haunt the darkness. In short, it’s like Diablo but it’s modern day and the creatures are eldritch in nature!

Now there’s a thought. Maybe I’ll add a character named Deckard Cain who will implore the main character to ‘Stay awhile and listen.’

Admitting Defeat

There are a few video games I’ve not finished. Most are those I played in my youth but there are a number of recent titles I’ve not enjoyed and decided to put aside. The most recent one of these was Wo Long: Fallen Dynasty – a game set during the late Han period of Chinese history and which featured many characters from Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

From the start, I was apprehensive at how far I’d be able to take the game. After all, it was a purported Soulslike. A genre I’ve widely tried to avoid as my preference is to not smash my head against a wall and spend hours on one boss. It’s also a reason why I don’t like dabbling in roguelikes (where my entire progress is erased upon death). Yet, I would be remiss to not admit I was drawn in by the premise of running around Ancient China.

So, when the game was on sale, I bit the bullet and bought it. Unfortunately, like many other games, it sat in my backlog until I could find the time to give it a decent run.

When I did finally boot up the game, I was a little wary I might not even get past the first boss: Zhang Liang, General of Man. I’d seen the reviews (and the complaints) of how difficult a fight this was going to be. Mentally, I’d prepared myself to potentially ragequit at this very first boss and call it a day.

To my shock, though, Zhang Liang was not hard at all. In fact, I trounced him quite readily on my first go. His attacks were well-telegraphed and the window to parry his attacks were generous. Before I knew it, he was lying dead at my feet.

Worried, I quickly checked the internet to see if there had been any changes to the game. As I suspected, Zhang Liang had been nerfed in one of the many updates for the game – making it more approachable for beginners to whet their appetite on the title.

Unfortunately, though, his battle would be the only one I felt I managed to pull off with any aplomb. The other bosses were much more hit or miss in terms of skill and it felt like it was more luck that saw me to victory. This seemed particularly true with the likes of Aoye and Zhang Rang (with his army of clones).

Despite my misgivings, I pushed on. Until I encountered Lu Bu. While I thought his attack patterns weren’t too difficult to read, they were still a pain to deal with. In the end, I decided enough was enough and chose to quietly quit after my most recent defeat at Lu Bu’s hands. Throwing myself again and again against such a mighty foe was not my idea of fun. And I knew victory would not bring me the rush of dopamine many fans of the Soulslike genre would receive. Rather, it would only bring me dread and uncertainty for the next boss to come.

That’s not to say I don’t like challenge.

After all, I did manage to platinum Astro Bot. But my time with the game didn’t see much needed resources dwindle. It didn’t have me endure a five minute gauntlet of a boss where I would inevitably die and then have to psych myself back up for another go. The reason why Astro Bot worked so well was because death carried with it little consequence and our cute little robot revived quite quickly for another run. More importantly, the challenges were OPTIONAL.

The base game, if I’m being honest, was generous with checkpoints on all of its main stages. At no point did I have to deal with an impervious wall.

Lu Bu, it should also be noted, is not even the end boss. He was early mid-game. Even if I beat him, there were other bosses I would, more than likely, struggle against. Demon Liu Bei. Zhang Liao. Yuan Shao. Yu Ji. And what was the point of it all?

The story, certainly, had not proved quite as gripping as I’d hoped. Much like their take on the Bakamatsu period in Rise of the Ronin, the playable character felt like a bit character surrounded by other big name protagonists who should have taken the lead instead. Without even a name, they’re only regarded highly by the colourful cast because of their prowess on battle. Something which I found disingenous considering I’d only made it so far with the help of reinforcements at my back (there was no way I would go head to head with a Changgui if I didn’t have someone there to soak up the aggro).

More importantly, the overall narrative was not enough to pull me through even the more difficult sections of the game. If there had been something a little more tantalising for me to enjoy, maybe I might have persevered for a bit longer before calling it quits.

Like many of these games, I think my main struggle is how much damage the enemies can deal in quick succession when compared to the dismal healing when one pops a Dragon’s Cure Pot (even with upgrades). Why can’t these games have potions that heal you to full instead of slightly over half? This was an issue I also struggled with when playing through Jedi: Fallen Order and Jedi: Survivor. Thankfully, though, there was a toggable difficulty setting and I was able to change it up when I did encounter something a tad too hard.

My other problem with the game is how the stats for the main character never felt like they translated well to actual battle. True, I was upgrading my wood and fire elements but it hardly seemed to make much of a difference. Then, of course, there were my weapons and armour.

Maybe if I’d retreated to the village to upgrade just before the Lu Bu fight, I’d see some noticeable improvement in the damage I was dealing? Or even see myself absorb a few more blows before the end? But why did it also seem like all the wizardry spells I’d poured my points in do diddlysquat?

Of course, this might have been a problem of speccing my character to fit within the requirements but the game does a poor job of explaining this to the player. But I’d rather not have to deal with changing my gear to take in all these various considerations. I just want to kickass and chew bubblegum (and I’m all out of gum). What I don’t want to deal with is all the messiness of trying to eat crustaceans and not even getting a satisfied meal from it (like crab or lobster. If the meat isn’t easy to get to, I just can’t be bothered. Admittedly, not the best metaphor but it’s the first thing that came to mind).

Still, there is something healthy about realising one’s limits and putting down a game (or anything else) that is no longer giving you joy. I’d, after all, gave it a decent shot and did try a few different methods to see if I might have been able to change things around in my favour. There’s no shame in patting oneself on the back and saying: maybe this isn’t for me and turning my attention to something I’d like to try out more. Say, oh, I don’t know…Bayonetta? Or maybe The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom.

Then, of course, there’s the mountain of games I still have yet to get through, sitting on my shelf mocking me, like Stellar Blade, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 and Metaphor: ReFantazio to name but a few.

And while, admittedly, I did make purchases for Black Myth: Wukong and Wuchang: Fallen Feathers, I’m not sure how far I’ll be able to get through these as well before deciding they’re not for me. Time, of course, will tell.

And hey, if it’s not for me then it’s not for me. I’ll just move on and try something else. After all, there’s so many different games out there and my backlog isn’t getting any smaller.

So, much like Freedom Wars (though I will say I got much further in Freedom Wars), Soul Sacrifice and Code Name: STEAM, Wo Long: Fallen Dynasty joins the list of games I’d tried my hand at but found wanting in almost all aspects. Oh, and how could I forget Monster Hunter Ultimate?

Homo Ludens Dissonance

Over the years, I’ve played all manner of video games. From small indie titles to grand blockbuster triple-A ones. Never, though, had I stopped to try out a video game from the mind of Hideo Kojima. Even though he was, and still is, touted as a savant, the games he had a hand in always seemed to sit beyond my interests. Or I’d tell myself it was too confusing to start midway through the series. And therefore, there wasn’t any need to play through the story of Solid Snake (I’d pick up all the salient points through osmosis anyway). Then 2019 hit and along came Death Stranding. But one look at the trailers and I knew I wasn’t sold at all on the premise.

It would take several more years and a chance visit to an EB Games somewhere in a rural town on the Central Coast that would see me purchase Death Stranding: Director’s Cut more out of curiosity than any genuine interest in playing the game. For, admittedly, the game sat installed on my PlayStation 5 for another two years before I decided to bite the bullet and actually play through the damn thing (cue the sequel then being released IN that very year).

Death Stranding has you play in the shoes of Sam Porter Bridges. In the first few establishing shots, he is riding a motorcycle (technically a reverse trike) through post-apocalyptic America in order to deliver cargo to an unspecified client. Along the way, he runs into Fragile. To avoid crashing into her, Sam takes a tumble and his trike is ruined. As it begins to pour, he finds shelter. There, he finds Fragile, who assists him in evading a BT and by giving him a cryptobiote to eat.

Once the rain stops, Sam resumes his trek to Central Knot City. Once there, he is tasked with an emergency assignement to accompany the disposal team to get rid of a corpse at the nearby incenerator. Along the way, however, the team encounters trouble. They die in a voidout, leaving Sam the only survivor.

It is not long before he revives in Capital Knot City. There, he is tasked by the dying President of the UCA: Bridget Strand, Sam’s adoptive mother. As she breathes her last, Bridget tasks Sam with reconnecting all of America to the chiral network.

So begins Sam’s quest to travel (primarily by foot) to waystations, distribution centres, prepper bunkers and other KNOT cities to connect it all together and bring back the land of the free as the ‘United Cities of America.’ While not everyone is keen to join initially, through persistence, Sam is able to bring any and all into the fold of the UCA. And this is in spite of the fact Sam, himself, has haphephobia (a fear of being touched), though the game uses aphenphosmphobia instead.

Why Sam has this fear isn’t exactly explained. Neither the flashbacks of his past provide an adequate explanation nor any of the exposition. My assumption? He developed it from the touch of BTs.

Still, does he not serve as the perfect metaphor? A man who hates touch is the one able to bridge together people from disparate walks of life and unite humanity? The game, and its imagery, all but writes itself!

And this, dear reader, is the crux of my many problems with the game from a narrative and worldbuilding perspective. From the very first, Kojima isn’t shy in trying to explain what the game is all about: strings, ropes and connection. Whether it’s from how the cities are all ‘knots’ to the very name of the game itself (Death Stranding). But worse than all the repeated metaphors is how the game continues to hammer in the same message. NPCs talk about their initial reluctance to join the UCA but, after enough deliveries, begin to see the strength of coming together and being connected to the rest of humanity.

It’s all quite pretentious, actually, though I must admit some of the revelations in the various emails Sam receives do paint a more nuanced view of the world (especially with reference to the US President building a wall to keep migrants out). That said, it’s hard for me to believe any real connection can be brought about with a person and your average courier. Especially given how callous most delivery drivers are when it comes to the packages many of us order online. Heck, I don’t even have a good rapport with my local postman (though most letters are delivered during the times I’m actually at work).

Of course, I may just be an outlier. There are times when I visit the post office and see the staff actually develop a relationship with clients who use their services often (either picking up packages or requesting something be sent). Not me, though. I’m not big on chatting to hospitality stuff. Yes, I am cordial to a fault and I make sure to remember my manners, but I’m not all too comfortable interacting with strangers.

Then, of course, there are the relationships one develops over the course of working in logistics.

I should know. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago I used to be in freight forwarding and ensuring goods ordered from a consignor (either in FCL or LCL) safely arrive at the warehouse of the consignee.

Perhaps, though, it’s due to the shortage of porters actively delivering packges to the preppers across post-apocalyptic America. For the people living in the world post the actual Death Stranding event in-game, supply drops are few and far between. When a delivery is made, it’s a moment of celebration and triumph of beating the odds.

The messaging aside, the one other element of Death Stranding I actively dislike is how women are portrayed. And though I’ve scoured the internet thoroughly enough to know Kojima has not read much Haruki Murakami, the two feel like they both attended the same writing courses.

Why, you may ask?

Because neither know how to write women.

In Death Stranding, almost ALL of the women characters have their motivations either surround or be about a MAN. Their roles (or descriptors in terms of the preppers) all seem to appeal to a certain ideal of femininity. From main characters like Amelie, Fragile, and Mama to side characters like the Chiral Artist or the Photographer. And don’t get me started on the bunkers that DO have multiple people but the woman is always in a supporting role to their husband (or child) like at the Timefall Farm, the Doctor and the Mountaineer. The ONLY female characters with any sort of agency and who aren’t relegated to roles characteristic of women are the Evo-Devo Biologist and the Roboticist.

Let’s start with Fragile.

Her very name is a trait often applied to women. And while she is keen to remind Higgs (a character played by Troy Baker), “I’m Fragile but not that fragile,” she, too, is motivated by the men in her life. From her father who created the delivery service to how Higgs took away her vitality and youth. Then, of course, there’s her relationship with Sam. Even I, an asexual, could sense a sort of wistful longing and hint of jealousy when Fragile had to contend with Amelie for Sam’s affections.

Next, Mama.

True to the codename she is bequeathed, Mama is…well…a mother. In fact, it’s the chain that keeps her in place (of looking after a BT baby). Enough said.

Then, there’s Amelie. Though I did read a Reddit post saying she had the most agency, the ending did not pay her any favours with how Higgs seemingly keeps her under his thumb as he tries to unlock her abilities as the Extinction Entity (there’s also the whole sideplot of her railing against her fate but it all felt surface deep. Especially as it’s only when Sam tells her that she’s not alone and he would always be there for her before shef inally relents and untethers her ‘Beach’ from all the others to stave off the Last Stranding).

My misgivings of the narrative aside, I also found myself unimpressed with the general gameplay. While the controls are solid, I suppose what I disliked most was how finicky Sam’s balance seemed to be as he tripped on nearly everything and could be sent careening forward because of loose gravel underfoot. Admittedly, it’s no QWOP or Baby Steps. So, I suppose it could have been worse. But my goodness, the DRIVING! Why did all the vehicles handle so terribly?

Also, as an aside, why couldn’t anyone in Capital Knot City provide Sam with a vehicle from the start? Why did they force him to travel ON FOOT around the eastern seaboard? While I understand this from a gameplay perspective, from a narrative one there was literally NO excuse.

One thing, though, I did like was how playing online did allow me to soon pick up vehicles from other players and to use structures they had built for ease of traversal. In fact, I very much liked the zipline relay I helped build from the Veteran Porter to Heartman’s Laboratory. It made travelling through the snowy mountaineous region a breeze (and I also didn’t have to worry about possible BT encounters).

That said, the gameplay of Death Stranding lent itself well to listening to video essays throughout my playthrough. Which, of course, I did plenty of. Especially when I had a four hour episode of Critical Role to enjoy.

Death Stranding was also able to incorporate decent gunplay in the game. Perhaps because of Kojima’s experience with the Metal Gear series, all the moments in the supercell visions brought upon by Mads Mikkelsen’s character were easy to grasp and breeze through.

There is much to be said of Death Stranding: Director’s Cut. Yet though many praise Kojima as an auteur in the gaming industry, I don’t quite see it. Not yet, at least. The game I played was serviceable at best but nothing truly stood out (beyond the ludonarrative and cognitive dissonances I had. When Sam and Amelie ran down the Beach after Higgs was defeated and Norman Reedus had this weird smile on his face? Shivers down the spine. Almost as bad as when Cloud tried to smile at Aerith in Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth). The story, in particular, incurred my ire. As did his attempts at writing female characters.

I’m sure, of course, Kojima will have his loyal brand of followers who enjoy his titles. I, unfortunately, am not one of them.

That is not to say Death Stranding: Director’s Cut is a bad game. It is simply not to my tastes. Certainly, it was not so bad I had to stop partway through. But I did find it relatively tedious given the dripfeed of structural blueprints were (and the fact you needed to have an area connected to the Chiral Network before being able to build them). If I’d had access to ziplines from the start, I’m sure the first few hours wouldn’t have seemed so arduous. Of course, perhaps that’s the whole point of the game. But I, for one, wanted things to happen just a bit quicker.

Here’s hoping my next game will be able to deliver this in spades though I have a feeling I may just ragequit for not being good enough at Soulslike titles. Fingers crossed my parry game will exceed my expectations.

In other news, I will not be picking up Death Stranding 2: On the Beach. But for those who DO enjoy these Strand-type games, I hope you derive the utmost joy from it (and I do mean it sincerely).

Archaeological Find of the Decade

Ask anyone on the street and they will know who Indiana Jones is. Though a fictional character played by Harrison Ford, the intrepid archaeologist has had a significant influence on pop culture. Even I have not been immune to certain tropes and scenes that have been endearingly preserved on the internet. Despite the fact the first three films came out before I was even born. From the opening of Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indy steals an artefact from an ancient temple to him shooting a man despite their florid display of swordplay.

Even with the films readily available on Disney+ for me to watch, the only one I’ve actually seen was the first attempt by LucasFilm and Paramount Pictures to revitalise the series with an older Harrison Ford: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. While this foray did have its memorable moments, it never quite hit the heights of the original trilogy. Or so online reviews decried.

When a game was set to release on the Xbox in late 2024, I was a little disappointed but did not feel entirely bereft. After all, I’d enjoyed the likes of Uncharted and Tomb Raider over the last decade or so of video games. What did it matter if I couldn’t play through Indiana Jones and the Great Circle? Microsoft had made its choice. They’d bought up Bethesda and all the other developers under its wing. To see these games on the PlayStation 5 would be asking too much.

Or so I thought.

Lo, come March 2025 and Indiana Jones and the Great Circle released for the platform of my choice.

Of course, months would go past before I found the opportunity to give it a chance. My backlog, dear reader, is nigh astronomical. I’ve hardly afforded any rest before I boot up a new game. The price I’ve paid for enoying so many different franchises over the years.

Indiana Jones and the Great Circle starts with Indy traipsing through the opening scenes of The Lost Ark. This time, though, he is being steered by the player. And while it’s almost shot for shot, there is still much to be said of the character models with their too large eyes and occasionally stiff movements.

After taking the treasure, Indy returns to Marshall College. During the night, a giant of a man breaks in and steals a cat mummy. Indy catches him in the act but is powerless to stop him (which gave me an idea for another horror story. So, be on the look out, dear reader, for future horror short stories from yours truly. All interconnected in a grand Kyndaris Shared Universe of sorts!). After the scuffle, Indy discovers a medallion bearing a symbol of the Vatican Secret Archive. He sets off for Italy, stumbling upon the secret of the ‘Great Circle’ while doing battle with facists along the way.

It isn’t long before he’s travelling to Egypt, the HImalayas, Shanghai and Sukhothai as he tries to unravel another ancient secret. All the while, he is beset by Nazis wanting to use their findings for much more nefarious ends.

To call the plot camp would do the The Great Circle a great injustice. And yet, camp there is aplenty. Especially when it comes to how Gantz claims his invincibility before being skewered by icicles, to Voss’s proclamation that he knows the ancient art of ‘kara-te.’ I also enjoyed how the game employed the Wilhelm scream.

Yet despite all this, The Great Circle somehow manages to capture the very spirit and essence of Indiana Jones. Something the recent films seem to be lacking.

Might it all be a little cliche at times? Yes. But The Great Circle manages to make it work. Especially with the pathos it gives to Indy and by having a cast of colourful characters who lean into their roles. I’d even say there was some great commentary on the modern world. Take, for example, Voss’s ability to guide Gantz to do his bidding: “Nothing is quite so easy to manipulate as an insecure male.” Then there’s: “A little confrontation, a little affirmation, and the insecure male will volunteer his undying loyalty.” These observations, from a delightfully evil Nazi archaeologist with a penchant for psychology, serve as excellent commentary to the swathe of alt-right and grifter talk that has cropped up in recent years.

And it’s true to an extent.

How many, on the internet, have seen people ‘redpill’ themselves and adopt ‘alpha male’ rhetoric? And much like the late 1930s, in which The Great Circle is set, we have seen the rise of fascist and authoritarian sentiments in countries that were once thought to be bastions of democracy.

Hope, however, remains that we can stop it before it goes too far. And while I write up this post in late November 2025, I fear it will still prove to be relevant in 2026. Time will tell, of course, on whether this post has aged like a fine wine or has curdled like month old milk.

From a gameplay perspective, The Great Circle puts players in the shoes of one Henry Walton ‘Indiana’ Jones. But whereas Uncharted and Tomb Raider chose to be in third-person, MachineGames chose to have it play out in first-person (with the occasional change to third-person only when Indy is swinging on his whip or clambering up walls).

While I found it slower than I anticipated, it did not detract from my enjoyment from the game. Especially when I was swinging around frying pans or guitars to blindside my enemies. Even the fisticuffs managed to work well. The only downside? How little damage the firearms were able to provide when trying to gun down enemies from afar.

The Great Circle, it must be said, is not a shooter. Indy does not have access to a variety of firearms except his trusty revolver and whatever ones enemies may drop once they’ve been knocked unconscious. These include pistols and a few semi-automatic rifles. Ammunition, however, is scarce.

But what drew me out of my immersion was how ineffectual headshots were! For, during my first proper battle against Locus, the giant man Indy first encounters at Marshall College (but loses to), I’d pulled my revolver out and landed several headshots. Yet, isntead of stopping the man, he still lurched forward to give Indy the good one-two. Even against Nazis and fascists in the sandbox world, shooting proves ineffective without at least 4-5 bullets lodged in the enemy before you.

Then, of course, there was the fact the traditional means of taking snapshots in game tended to bring up the pause menu (leading to the scene in question being blurred out). While I managed to find my way round this limitation, I did despair early on that I might never be able to take a decent screenshot of what was a beautiful world that had been lovingly crafted by the developers.

These small foibles aside, The Great Circle proved to have an effective gameplay loop with fisticuff combat feeling weighty. I suppose, though, that there were a few more means for Indy to have healed himself prior to the grand showdown at the very end of the game. Thankfully, the game was able to recognise I needed a bar or two of extra health, after one too many deaths, and was able to assist with allowing me to see the game to its natural conclusion (without having to alter the difficulty setting).

During my time with the game, I also enjoyed being able to find purchase books and maps that detailed where collectibles were as this was a key part of how I managed to platinum the title in record time. While I do feel like some puzzles in Sukhothai could have been better telegraphed on what tools Indy needed to further them, overall, the game design and direction were topnotch (that said, the giant snake was a hassle to evade).

Indiana Jones and the Great Circle carried with it the weight of its legacy. Though recent films faltered, the game was able to shine by staying true to the roots of what made Indiana Jones work so well. With its over the top villains and promises of a grand adventure, The Great Circle was able to maintain its momentum and land each of its story beats without too much hassle. Which, of course, was helped by its excellent casting and the writing that kept much of it fresh and exciting.

I’d also attest to the music soundtrack being key to many a scene. Especially with the return of such classics as The Raiders March and a variation to Marion’s Theme. According to the internet, these also had to be re-recorded due to mechanical copyright. Regardless, they served to keep the game true to its roots (while also proving a delight for me to hear during my playthrough).

As a side note, a part of me keeps hoping other Microsoft exclusive games, like South of Midnight and Avowed will make the jump to PlayStation 5. Unfortunately, this does not apepar to be the case and I may have to bite the bullet and buy them on Steam (to play on my new PC). In the meantime, I still have plenty of other games to get through. Least of which is Death Stranding. A game that has proven to be divisive (and is definitely NOT in my top 10).

Rising Sun

The Bakumatsu is a pivotal period of Japanese history where the once isolationist nation opens up. More importantly, it marked the end of the feudal shogunate system. In the last two years, I’ve somehow played two video games that were set during this time period. These were Like a Dragon: Ishin! and Rise of the Ronin. The latter of which was the one I completed late October, right after the release of Pokemon Legends: Z-A. Both games, of course, featured key characters from the time period including Sakamoto Ryoma, the various members of the Shinsengumi like Soji Okita, Ernest Satow (interpreter), and the last shogunate Tokugawa Yoshinobu.

While Like a Dragon: Ishin! was a more stylised version of history, set only in Tosa and Kyoto, Rise of the Ronin plays through all the core events including the Battle of Toba-Fushimi, the Ansei Purge and the Sakuradamon incident. And rather than have the player in the shoes of famed heroes, the game centres the story around an unnamed protagonist of the Veiled Edge. Together with their Blade Twin, they watched their village burn down. Filled with rage, they were trained by the Kuraso clan in the arts of combat and assassination.

During one of their first jobs with their Blade Twin, they are sent to infiltrate the Black Ships (the term used to describe Western ships because of the tar used on their hulls), and assassinate Commadore Matthew Perry. Though they are successful at stealing the secret message, they fail to kill the Commadore and the protagonist is forced to escape – leaving behind their Blade Twin.

The overall narrative then sees the protagonist trying to find their Blade Twin even as they become embroiled in the politics of the time, an outside influence to the major events playing out.

In time, the protagonist joins the cause of reforming Japan and bringing about a new dawn. Unfortunately, their Blade Twin, who had survived the earlier showdown with Matthew Perry, desperately wishes to watch Japan burn down in the flames of conflict. Mostly as retribution for their home being destroyed.

While the narrative does marry the events and weave the protagonist’s involvement in a relatively coherent manner, I couldn’t help but feel let down. Primarily because the main protagonist barely speaks (even though they have voice acting). Rather, they serve as a mute side character witnessing historical events unfold before their eyes for most of the game. Their sole contribution being the fact their a dab hand at cutting down their foes (though not all actually die. Merely defeated to survive another day where they might rejoin your side if you change between the pro- and anti-shogunate factions).

This is despite the lengths the game goes to paint their favourable bonds with a vast cast of characters and how it is the power of these bonds that differentiates the playable character from their Blade Twin, also known as the Demonclaw Samurai.

Then there was all the praise lavished upon the protagonist though they never seemed to express their own views or spoke at all during the cutscenes. And don’t get be started on the Veiled Vow romance options. Why would, given their past, would Commadore Matthew Perry actually enter into a romantic relationship with the protagonist? It made no sense!

Is it any wonder I felt let down by the story and the main character?

They just seemed to have no personality beyond the occasional dialogue options available. In comparison, Like a Dragon: Ishin! saw players in the shoes of the one and only Sakamoto Ryoma who infiltrated the Shinsengumi by using a pseudonym: Hajime Saito. Despite the stoicism, there was a clear motivation behind Ryoma’s actions. He had a way of going about the mission he set for himself. Rise of the Ronin’s protagonist, meanwhile, was more often a vehicle to simply move the plot along.

That said, the game itself did have several colourful characters in its cast. I very much liked Kaishu Katsu, Ryoma and Jules Brunet. All of them had unique outlooks on the conflict between the various factions driving events in Japan during the Bakumatsu. Yet, perhaps, in spite of this, they still tried their best to bring about a better tomorrow.

Narrative aside, Rise of the Ronin had a strong foundation for its combat and gameplay. Though I don’t much like Soulsbourne-like combat with a heavy focus on parries and stamina bar, it worked well for the game. The game, though, was made easier with several difficulty settings. Something I did toy with because the timing to parry certain attacks was never as obvious as I would have liked (nor did I like the fact it was mapped to the heavy attack button or that enemies were barely staggered when you were trying to lay in a few combos). Perhaps I could have dodged more in the game but Rise of the Ronin didn’t really reward dodging much (or blocking for that matter).

As for the other aspects of gameplay, the traversal mechanics reminded me of Assassin’s Creed though it was less smooth in how the protagonist scaled walls and scaffolding. While I appreciated the smaller maps, there were still plenty of collectibles to collect (although unlocking where they were was quite easy).

Another thing Rise of the Ronin did well was its grapple hook and glider combo. While I feel like they weren’t integral to the gameplay, it was still fun to zip up into the air and zip across a river. Although, admittedly, my immersion was very much broken when you pointed the glider down and it did not serve the increase glider speed in any perceivable manner. Only by unlocking the ability to fly faster through inventions could you speed up how fast the glider flew.

Beyond these issues, I liked being able to customise the outfits my character wore, as well as the look of their weapons.

Oh, and we got to fight Earnest Satow, who had rocket boots (I think that’s historically accurate)! Still better than fighting Thomas Glover? Who knows. Both of these brief antagonists came out of nowhere.

With that said, Rise of the Ronin did feel very much like an underpolished Assassin’s Creed game. From its focus on history and how it broken down each historical character, organisation, landmark and important event, to even how the player characters ran around while being controlled. There wasn’t anything I would have considered unique, though, of course, I didn’t have to climb towers to unlock more of the map before me.

In that sense, Rise of the Ronin felt like a serviceable game but not quite what I actually wanted. It had its moments of fun but I didn’t fall in love with it.

Perhaps if the narrative had been more compelling, I would have been more invested. As it was, I cared more for the non-playable characters (though the fact you’d often fight them and then be friends again in the next was a little jarring) than the main protagonist.

Why Do We Fall?

Skimming through reviews and impressions on the internet, the one thing that stands out is how Owlboy is a game all about failure. And I get it. Otus, our protagonist, has a hard time of it. When he’s sent out on patrol to look out for pirates, his village is inadvertently attacked. Then he fails to save the city of Advent from Captain Molstrom’s wrath as they use the power of a lost forgotten relic. But while these are pivotal story moments that later culminate at the climax of the story, I feel the themes of friendship, sacrifice and vulnerability are at the true heart of Owlboy. For it is the bonds we forge and share with others on our journey that push us to be more than we are alone.

Releasing nigh on nine years ago, Owlboy is considered something of an indie. While it is no Hollow Knight, Tunic or Hades, there is a charm to it. From its graphics to the complex worldbuilding and even to the colourful cast of characters.

Owlboy casts the player in the role of Otus. A meek mannered boy trained in what it means to be an ‘owl.’ Of course, he’s not quite an anthropomorphic owl or an actual bird (though the design of his brows might say otherwise). Rather, he is gifted a magical cloak that gives him the ability to fly. And under the watchful eye of his mentor, Asio, Otus is tasked with protecting the village of Vellie.

Like many protagonists before him, Otus is mute. This is something directly pointed out by many of the other characters. That said, Otus is able to trill in delight and use other means of communication with his friends.

Yet during my time playing the game, I could not felt but feel like Otus’s mutism was a perfect metaphor for how men interact with each other in society. Instead of being able to talk back or communicate the pain he undergoes, Otus is only able to accept the harsh criticisms of his mentor – a man who unfairly scorns his pupil despite his best efforts. Even his allies and friends impose their own ideals on Otus. For example, when Geddy teleports away after Twig joins the group following their journey to Stratos.

But despite these setbacks, Otus persists in his efforts.

And it is through this he is able to put a stop to Molstrom’s ambitions. More than that, he becomes pivotal to saving the world.

Otus’s story, then, in my mind is about hope. It is about overcoming the challenges before you instead of falling into despair.

It is also, of course, about failure. As anyone will tell you. Failure is a fact of life. While yes, sometimes, it is an indicator to turn one’s attention elsewhere, it can also be a lesson on persistence. For, without trying and failing at something, how can we improve? How can we iterate and make change in the world? How can we learn?

This is evident in the menagerie of allies Otus has to help him in his quest. Geddy, Alphonse and Twig. All of them choose to learn from their mistakes and make amends. And though it might sound cliche, it is through the power of friendship and cooperation, that they’re able to bring forth a brighter future for the world. A lesson they try to also impart on Solus (technically the titular Owlboy of the game who is so intent on saving the world from falling apart he is willing to ally with a power-hungry robot pirate captain and see the capital of Advent be destroyed to retrieve special relics needed for a spell) as they battle up in the heavens (because, I don’t know, Solus can’t find five minutes to explain why he’s doing what he’s doing. Owlpeople, COMMUNICATE! Why is it so hard?)

But though the core team of allies are men, I do like the number of strong women also evident in the world. There was one soldier Otus manages to rescue who, in spite of an injured leg, was still able to kick enemies away. Then, there was her ally, an elderly woman who could wreak everything with her destructive prowess.

Narrative aside, the gameplay was simple and intuitive to pick up. Especially since I started playing the game while on my trip to China (and didn’t quite finish it until I returned). Even with the brief intermission of wrapping up Two Point Hospital, I was able to pick it up from where I’d left off and have the story wrapped up in only a few short hours (something I was grateful of because there are still TOO many games in my long backlog of games).

That said, I did have a few gripes with it. Though Otus is able to dodge roll both on the ground and in the air, it does not give the character any invincibility frames. One cannot simply dodge into or out of an attack. What’s worse was how difficult it was to figure out the hit box for Otus – especially when he’s flying and his makeshift owl cloak wings would occasionally clip through the background.

I also found it challenging that Otus’s only form of attack was to use his friends. While he can spin to hit enemies, this move primarily only stunned. It did not kill them. But your allies, too, are hampered in their abilities. From how Alphonse is required to recharge his explosive shotgun blast to Geddy’s limited power with his peashooter gun, and the inability of Twig’s webs to actually cause much, if any overall damage.

Then, of course, there was the whole ‘stealth’ portion near the end of the game that had me struggling because the mechanics were not really built around it. And the platforming section where the castle up in space began to break down. Despite these pain points, I still enjoyed my time with Owlboy. Admittedly, the gameplay could have been tighter but after a few abortive attempts, I was able to push through to the end.

Owlboy, it must be said, is not a perfect game. According to Wikipedia, it spent the better part of a decade in development with a few do-overs before the developers found their footing. And while there are parts where the game could be improved, these individual little failings when combined make for a stronger cohesive game that manages to shine. More importantly, it manages to deliver a strong message on a heavy theme not many stories have been able to tackle well before or since.

So, I ask you, then. Why do we fall?

The answer? So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.

On a side note, I also liked the hidden lore of the owls from the past. How the world came to be and what the mysterious ‘Loop’ they tried to escape would most definitely make for a delicious plot point should the developers ever make another game set in the same world. That said, it did have a few echoes of Final Fantasy XVI with how Otus sacrificed himself and then fell from on high down into the ocean.

Holistic Management

When people ask me what my favourite game is, I usually give them a comprehensive list of any and all narrative driven open-world role-playing games I’ve played in the last two decades. Think Witcher 3, Dragon Age, Like a Dragon or something within the Final Fantasy line-up. Or, mayhap, if I’m feeling a little bold, I’ll offer them something a little more streamlined like Uncharted or Life is Strange.

But while it is usually the story that pulls me along, I do tend to play almost all aspects of a game before the credits roll. And so, often within the games I play, there are minigames that may occasionally feature extensive management mechanics.

While I did enjoy my time looking after a cabaret club or running a confectionary company, I never once thought I would enjoy playing a game where managing was the sole focus.

Enter: Two Point Hospital.

I never thought I’d ever want to be the administrator of a hospital. As I child, I did play the occasional simulator in the vein of Simcity or The Sims but they were never able to capture my attention for long. Then, of course, there were the distractions I had on my phone to keep me entertained for a few short minutes like Mini Metro or Game Dev Story.

Yet there was something about Two Point Hospital that caught my eye. Maybe it was the irreverent British humour. Or perhaps it was the graphics.

I, for one, would like to contribute it to watching a few snippets of the game on popular gaming channels (like Oxbox and Oxboxtra that finally sealed the deal for me).

After all, I also bought both Two Point Campus and Two Point Museum before even getting a chance to properly sit down and try my hand at the actual games (technically a lie since I did play a demo of Two Point Museum while at PAX in 2024). Worse, they sit on my Steam account, mocking me. All ready to be played if only I could free up some time from my busy life (and extensive backlog).

Still, now that my mother has returned to Australia and I’m no longer left in the lurch of being the primary caregiver for my ageing grandmother, perhaps there will be more time to live my life…in the world of make believe. Gods know I need it considering the chaotic nature of the world as it is now.

All I can say is that I’m glad I’m not an American citizen.

But speaking of looking after the elderly, Two Point Hospital is all about turning the art of providing hospice care to the sick and dying into an enticing addiction. Though I can’t say how they did it.

Perhaps, of course, it’s merely the perfectionism in me seeking to create efficiency that fuelled my 50 hour playthrough. Or maybe the developers have actually stumbled upon a simple formula that can easily capture the attention of gamers everywhere and mixed it with good humour and excellent mechanics.

It’s certainly a mystery. One I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to solve.

Despite the fact that from a narrative standpoint, there was no overarching story beyond a few snarky comments about helping out the hospitals already in disrepair across the fictional country that the game is set in, I found myself hooked onto the game. There was something about being an omniscient God-like hospital administrator that scratched some part of my brain. After all, it’s not every day I get to hire staff, assign their duties, set up specific policies and build rooms to fit inside my ever growing health care empire.

As the hours passed, I soon found there was a rhyme and a rhythm to the game itself – from building one’s first GP clinic to setting up a pharmacy or ward in quick succession to help rake in the cash. In later levels, where you started with a lot more money, this meant creating training and marketing rooms to speed up the initial cash flow. After all, no clients meant no diagnosis. No diagnosis meant no treatments. And a lack of treatments meant a lack of revenue.

The only major downside I found? Not being able to template my rooms from previous levels. While I could copy and paste the ones I’d made in a level, the same could not be said when I would finally move on and start anew in a different town.

Of course, if that were possible, my play time might have been a lot shorter than it ended up being.

That said, kitting out a room was fairly therapeutic. Making sure I had a nice looking room (before filling it with all manner of gold star awards) was paramount to increasing the happiness of both staff and patients. And though it might have been tempting to cover every square inch of them with a slew of items, I soon found a quick sure-fire way to keep them understated but still maintain a prestige of four or higher.

By game’s end, I’d be swooping in to check in on the staff I’d trained, being amused by the antics of patients, or simply ensuring I had enough janitors on hand to keep the ghost population down.

Of course, deciding when to call it quits was a difficult thing. In the end, I aimed solely to earn my gold star from the last level and have the credits roll. With it, I was able to put it to rest and move on.

While I don’t know when I’ll get to the other two Two Point games, I’m sure they’ll be a barrel of fun. Even after taking a brief break (I thought I’d be able to finish the game before I travelled to China but alas, I was unable to do so), I was able to pick it back up with ease. That said, following on from their three major successes, it’ll be interesting to see what the team at Two Point Studios decide to tackle next. Will it be theme parks? Or will they try their hand at something a little less grand?

On a side note, you just have to love the puns they come up with for all the illnesses and how they’re all represented. Being lightheaded means having a light bulb for a head? Animal magnetism involves having a ton of animal plushies stuck to you? Give whoever came up with those ideas a RAISE! I’d never thoroughly enjoyed seeing such wilful glee in coming up with the most unabashed names for terrible (and life threatening) illnesses ever!