The possibility that the world is illusory and that what we're seeing is a lie makes the world impossible to embrace, however. There's no strong sense of place, and nothing to anchor the high falutin ponderings that make up so much of the game. And even if we were to take it at face value, which seems to be impossible, it's only a snapshot, a vertical slice of this world without much context, making it hard to reach any solid conclusions. Theories and guesses, though? I've got dozens.
The Lost Lords is an improvement, then. A significant one. But by introducing two new characters, there hasn't been enough development, despite the fact that we're approaching the halfway point of the series.
Telltale's trip back to its comedy roots is a triumph. Rhys and Fiona are a duo I want to spend more time with. Baker and Bailey do a phenomenal job of bringing them to life, with spot-on comic timing and just enough humanity so they don't simply feel like vehicles for jokes. Pandora is a world I'm enamoured with once more, and being able to explore it without grinding or shooting a thousand addle-brained enemies over and over again is a very welcome change.
It's hard to recommend a game that makes you feel disgusted or upset, but I'm doing it anyway. This War of Mine is great, it just asks a lot from its players.
While still an RTS, Ardennes Assault takes a lot of cues from wargames. By opening it up and providing countless meaningful choices and random events, Relic has put the war in the players' hands. It's not a directed journey through a bunch of scenarios where winning is all that matters; it's a persistent struggle where failure is always nipping at the Americans' heels, where an entire company can be lost in battle, making the war seem even more desperate. It's exhausting, and the best game in the Company of Heroes series.
That's the thing about Beyond Earth: I feel like for every considered, clever addition to Civ's formula, there's always a near miss. War is fun, but the AI is not. Aliens are novel, but humans are dreary. I enjoyed playing it, I'm still playing, but it just hasn't gripped me like previous games. I want it to be better, more interesting, than it is.
Like the unnerving fiction that inspired it, The Vanishing of Ethan Carter is a bold and fascinating story. But the story is something that's revealed, not something that's lived through. I was a tourist, a witness, a reader, and that left less room for being a player. Yet I expect the game to stay with me for a good long time, and its grisly, gorgeous world alone makes the trek worthwhile.
Endless Legend combines fantastic fiction with compelling strategy. Underpinning it all is a strong design philosophy that connects the tenets of the 4X genre together seamlessly, while providing a plethora of options without being overwhelming. Even during a time when we're seeing a lot of 4X offerings, it sets itself apart, promising something different from its contemporaries.
Wasteland 2 is huge. It's not just the massive map, but the number of stories and the myriad ways they can play out. Though some moments left me disappointed, I always left the game eager to return. Inventive solutions to tricky standoffs, my failure to save a life, a silly line of text spotted in the corner of my eye - those are the things that stuck with me every time I pressed "quit".
There's a great game in here, somewhere. Rapidly getting into jaw-droppingly huge wars spanning multiple worlds is brilliant - it really is. And there's no other RTS that gives players so much destructive power. But the lack of tactical depth and focus on constantly rushing makes Planetary Annihilation tiring.
At times, it still feels like it's in Early Access, not because it's buggy, but because it's missing that spark and polish that's kept Worms alive for so long. Yet I do hope this isn't the last we've seen of these escaping sheep. There's a good foundation, and a need for inventive A to B puzzle games.
Lichdom: Battlemage's magic system is second to none, and it carries the game. It does one thing exceptionally well, while the rest of the game languishes a bit. Everything is subservient to firing off apocalyptic spells and frying thousands of loud, angry foes. The disappointment I felt when I wasn't able to use my magic for nonviolent exploration or the exhaustion I felt every time I had to hear another trite piece of exposition were brushed aside in a cacophony of arcane explosions.
The Journey Down: Chapter Two was worth the two year wait. It's comfortingly traditional if you pine for the old days, but not laden down with overly elaborate multi-layered puzzles that'll keep you bashing your head against the wall for hours. It's an adventure game for the times where you want to just relax, and maybe feel a little cleverer than you really are. Here's to hoping we're not looking at another long wait for the finale.
It's a strange series of lives, each one containing many of the same events and conversations, but each offering some sort of fulfilment, separate from the rest. They build up, and put together like jigsaw pieces, they flesh out the denizens of this nation of birds. I came for the promise of pigeon romance, but I stayed for the surreal world these fowl reside in.
As Clem, we survived from one day to the next, fighting against the futility of it all, trying to find our own way absent a clear objective. Where Season One was the story of a man becoming an adoptive father, learning that he would do anything to keep his ward safe, Season Two is more personal. It's about growing up, deciding who Clem is. But no matter who that turns out to be, one thing is consistent: she's still a survivor.
I have no doubt that some folk will dismiss Sacred 3 because it bears no resemblance to the previous core games in the series. But that's not why it should be avoided by most. It's simply not fun to play. The writing is abysmal, the combat is all sizzle and no steak, and, for a rather short game, it regurgitates a hell of a lot. It never rises above mediocrity, but often sinks below it.
It's a rare misstep, however, and despite it, Amid the Ruins is another phenomenal episode, building up to a finale where I can honestly say I don't have a clue what's going to happen. All I do know is that it can't be good. I hadn't noticed it until now, but Clem's journey has been mirroring Lee's from Season 1. And like her adoptive father, she may very well find herself being judged come the finale. I'm not looking forward to it.
When I play Divinity: Original Sin, I'm back in my parents' study, gleefully skipping homework as I explore the vast city of Athkatla. I'm overstaying my welcome at a friend's house, chatting to Lord British. And it's not because the game is buying me with nostalgia, but because it's able to evoke the same feelings: that delight from doing something crazy and watching it work, the surprise when an inanimate object starts talking to me and sends me on a portal-hopping quest across the world. There's whimsy and excitement, and those things have become rare commodities. Yet Divinity: Original Sin is full of them.
It's not just a great, surprisingly insightful game. It's also true to the literary genre that inspired it and Bill Willingham's Fables comics. The moments of reflection that Cry Wolf offers aren't just in regards to Bigby. The very real issues of invisible, disenfranchised people and the inability or simple lack of interest that administrations have in protecting them is central to the game. That's why I'm left feeling uncomfortable, but desperately wishing for a second season.
New or returning player - it doesn't really matter. This is Company of Heroes 2 at its best, a standalone that focuses on the series' core: man and machine duking it out across Europe. Those seeking a narrative will find plenty of stories in the tense battles amid crumbling towns and dark forests, so the campaign isn't missed at all. There's no fluff, and while there are lots of maps and loadouts to consider, one can still jump into an entertaining, dramatic battle right off the bat.