The fetch quests and backtracking grate, but A Knight to Remember is still a fairly strong start to King's Quest. Even though it's a self-contained story that leaves few loose threads, I'm keen to return and see Graham grow into the famous Knight he's meant to be. So much has changed in 21 years, but it's good to be back in Daventry.
At the moment, you're getting a fair amount for less than £10: two campaign worlds right away, each with 12 challenges, almost 260 Steam Workshop challenges and the ability to make your own. And it all works, which makes a nice change. If you have a burning desire to build lots of silly bridges or help tiny vehicles make some crazy leaps of faith, Poly Bridge can scratch that itch already.
The core of Legions of Steel – not the tutorial, not the barely present premise, not the shoddy presentation – is strong. The Machines could pose a bit more of a challenge, but the scenarios and the conundrums I needed to solve tickled my brain in all the right places. It's so spartan, though. It's missing that spark of personality and something that ties all the scenarios together. And it's in desperate need of a great deal of polish.
When the servers are active and you can get into a multiplayer match, then Rocket League is brilliant. This is a game where you can chase a ball while driving on the ceiling, as fans cheer from their seats in sleek futuristic stadiums. This is a game where a goal is accompanied by an explosion and an aftershock that sends every car hurtling backward. It's fast, explosive and completely ridiculous, and it's horribly frustrating when whole days go by without it working.
Her Story is a captivating experiment in stripped down storytelling and the best use of FMV that I've ever had the good fortune to encounter. It's a story that we get to build, and thus, despite the way that it sometimes keeps players at a distance, Her Story becomes Our Story. By obsessing over clips and trying to put them in order, trying to make sense of them all, we become embroiled in the story and can make it fit our own theories. It's unique, singular and will take a long time to stop bouncing around inside my head.
With care and attention there's hope for Magicka 2. Patches and DLC could fill in gaps and deal with the game's brevity, but it's hard to recommend based on that assumption. At the moment it's functional, sometimes fun, but only something that should really be considered if you've got three chums who are guaranteed to play with you. Even then, you might be better off with the original Magicka and its slew of DLC or Wizard Wars, which is free-to-play.
Perhaps The Witcher 3 could have done with another month or so of extra development to work out the kinks, but even without the extra time it's an enormously impressive game that proves, in case there was any doubt, that gargantuan games don't need to be stuffed with forgettable filler guff. Any worries that, by making the game open world, CD Projekt Red were just following popular trends should be set aside, because The Witcher 3 dances to its own tune. There isn't an RPG like it out there, not even its predecessors, and its uniqueness should be treasured.
I worried that, after years of playing its predecessor and all of its expansions, I would be too familiar with Galactic Civilizations III. I worried that I'd get a bit tired of it too quickly. This hasn't remotely been the case. I'm hooked in the same way I was with the last game, and not because it's stayed the same, but because it's managed to strike that balance between the comfortingly familiar and the refreshingly new.
It's been a shame to watch all of Perils of Man's promise go to waste. It got its hooks in me, made me eager to jump down the rabbit hole, but it just led to disappointment.
It is, perhaps, not a very good adventure game, but – and this is despite the first act – it's a compelling bit of interactive fiction. Uneven, but compelling. I want to know what the deal is with the train's destination, Augur Peak and… and that's about the only question I can repeat here because all the other ones that are rattling around my head like a bag of bones are great big bloody spoilers.
If the rest of the game had been crafted with the same care and attention given to warfare, StarDrive 2 would be an impressive 4X game. But its annoying tone, eccentric AI and the shallowness of the empire management casts a shadow over it. If we weren't in the middle of an unexpected flood of 4X games, then its take on space conflict alone would make it worth playing, but at the moment there are just too many alternatives.
Obsidian had a daunting task before them: to make a spiritual successor to a series of games that are inextricably tangled up in nostalgia, over a decade after the height of those games' popularity. This is not the Baldur's Gate of 2015, it's Baldur's Gate, Planescape: Torment, Icewind Dale, the best parts of the lot of them wrapped up in something new and brilliant. And before you venture forth, don't forget to gather your party.
Cities: Skylines is absolutely the best city-builder I've played since SimCity 4. From macro to micro, from the sprawling transport networks and city-wide policies to the fine-tuned districts and street-level detail, it impresses. Its size and flexibility creates a fertile space for experimentation, making each new map, or even each new plot, a place to try out new plans for a hyper-efficient green utopia, filthy industrial powerhouse or anything in between.
It is, across the board, an improvement on Rome II, despite some issues that have been carried over. And not just Rome II at launch, but even when comparing Attila with the Emperor Edition, the new kid puts on the best show. It's a confident marriage of setting and mechanics, with a historical and environmental narrative influencing each faction, pushing them into engaging situations. And you can burn the world, which is fun.
Everything is stripped away, leaving two coaches to duke it out over a weird looking ball. It's how robots would design a sport if, you know, they actually liked sport. Just the bare essentials, all purity and rawness with simple rules, simple tools and a clear objective. It's a game that, at a glance, you know how to play. And you should probably go and do that.
As a sandbox for building stupidly large cities, Cities XXL can be a fun diversion when performance issues aren't rearing their ugly heads. But once the buildings are plonked down, there's little to do aside from plonking down more of them. The management aspects are shallow, and made entirely redundant by how easy it is to reach Scrooge McDuck levels of wealth. And there's a serious dearth of good reasons for veteran Cities players to return. They've seen it all before.
Sunless Sea does demand a lot from its captains, though. Patience, mainly. It's a slow, deliberate game, where a journey across the map can take an age, and where secrets are unfurled without haste. But the sea offers up a veritable bounty of rewards, and absolutely the best writing in any video game since, well, as long as I can remember.
Grow Home is utterly lovely. It's welcoming and sweet, and its simplicity is as elegant as BUD is adorably clumsy. Little experimental treats like this are worth a dozen Far Creeds and Assassin's Crys. More of this, please, Ubisoft!
After quite a bit of meandering, Life is Strange offers revelations, along with dialogue that isn't trying to ape how a teenager might sound. Or maybe the awkwardness is just drowned out by Chloe and Max's sincerity. And, in the tradition of all good TV pilots - it owes as much to TV and cinema as it does to other games - there's a cliffhanger that's going to force me to come back.
Despite taking cues from other open world games, ones nobody could ever accuse of being fresh, Techland has molded these borrowed parts into something that is occasionally formidable. Dying Light never quite shakes off the spectre of these other games, but it doesn't play it as safe, presenting a world that is infinitely more deadly and fraught with tension. It is at its best, though, when the game doesn't get in the way of itself; when there are no calls on the radio or breaks in combat for a rest and a cup of tea.