Windforge feels unnecessary and indulgent, with few, brightly shining moments of fun interspersed. Like those who consider steampunk to be nothing but a fashion aesthetic, the game exploits the genre simply because it can and because it looks pretty. Ultimately, you will sacrifice playability for art style and unfinished ideas.
nd then again to find the "gate." All of this while fending off a Shadow army straight out of your nightmares. You run out of flares, and you die. And you wake up to a map you have never seen before. This is where Daylight excels. Your surroundings are permanently unknown to you; you have no idea if that desk ahead is empty or contains supplies. You don't know if you're going to have to run back across the map two or three more times before you can exit to the next section. It's tempting to call out proceduralism as lazy level design, particularly after seeing several similar hallway blocks crammed together into one level, but its implementation in Daylight is kind of genius.
Wildstar, then, is gratuitously good-feeling. Last night, I spent another five hours in the game. I went to a village where I licked bugs that made me feel like I was tripping on acid. There were giant rabbits dancing in happy circles and chanting. Why would I leave this? A lot of Wildstar's content draws from all of the MMOs that have come before it, but this outlandish dedication to fun is its own. It's unashamed to be a delightfully cheesy animated space adventure.