Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception - Thoughts

[contains minor spoilers]

In many ways, there's not much that separates Uncharted 2: Among Thieves from Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception. The third entry in the series is very similar in style, tone, and pacing to its older sibling, and likewise blows Drake's Fortune out of the water in terms of quality. Perhaps the most noticeable difference is that while Among Thieves leans into cooler climates for its latter half, Drake's Deception steers toward an arid desert in its final act. But if you play the games back to back, climate isn't the only thing that separates these two—you'll inevitably notice that combat has gotten more... explosive.

Thematically, Drake's Deception remains very familiar and frankly unambitious. A lot of old story beats get plucked from the other games, including mythical lost cities, fake-out deaths, Nate reconnecting with Elena, and a dull villain guarded by a detestable henchman. It's all entertaining, mind you; the playful banter between the main cast (as well as the stellar mocap) is on point as always, carrying the player through the plot even if the road feels well-trodden. Likewise the set pieces and spectacle are what you'd expect: loads of deteriorating architecture, extended chase sequences peppered with gunfire, and a really elaborate (and cool) vehicle sequence that leaves Nate exhausted and alone.

But there's not really anything that sets Drake's Deception above Among Thieves. By sticking so close to the Uncharted formula, the game struggles to etch out its own identity, especially since the villain—and by extension the story—is so flat. Cutter is a delightful addition to the Uncharted crew, but he spends more time out of the game than in it. The only narrative curve balls thrown at the player are the dizzying drug trips and desert scene, the former always managing to overstay its welcome. But admittedly, the desert scene is probably one of the highlights of the game: it allows the game to take a break from Nate's intrepid lifestyle to torture him over his misfortune, all while keeping the player wondering what will happen next. It's a very un-Uncharted-y experience that I wish the game had tried to flirt with more, rather than playing it so "safe" for the most part (or perhaps "conventional" is a better word, since Nate is no stranger to "unsafe" environments.)

You know what's really unsafe though? Trying to remain behind cover in Drake's Deception. The game's new tool for removing entrenched players is grenade spam, which gets fairly ridiculous the deeper into the story one gets. The player can now retaliate by chucking grenades back to their owner, but it can be a risky move as missing the throw window will get you blown to smithereens. This motivates the player to be even more mobile than before, which just doesn't work when the game only throws scant pieces of cover at you. The really laborious instances are few and far between, but when they pop up it can feel like you're grappling with raw RNG instead of engaging in a complex combat system.

For the most part, I was lukewarm on most of the gameplay, as it really felt like I had been there, done that. The one exception was the ship graveyard: that particular set piece has held up exceptionally well, as it is the best part of the game. The whole concept is gnarly and novel, giving the player a handful of rusted sandbox environments to hunt their foes in. The player can dip beneath the waters to avoid detection, and the constantly undulating environment interferes with your scouting, presenting you with a unique challenge (can this enemy see me? Wait was that a guy over there?) It's just a shame that the entire section is a pointless, wild goose chase that has no bearing on the plot; it felt like a tech demo that Naughty Dog really wanted to showcase, but had no idea where to slot into the story.

The last bit I want to mention is that the puzzles are a lot better. They're still somewhat rudimentary, but they're considerably more elaborate than those in Among Thieves (the chateau crypt and metallic shadows being my favorites), and they thankfully don't rely as heavily on checking your notebook as before. If anything, playing Drake's Deception reminded me of how disappointing the puzzles were in 2; enigmatic mechanisms and secret rooms are nearly as important to the concept of exploration as climbing up the face of a crumbling temple is.

There are undoubtedly times when Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception is the most impressive and unique entry in the series—but for the most part, it can't escape from being the grenade-obsessed little brother of a more successful title. Among Thieves is definitely a good game to emulate, but I can't emphasize enough how much the familiar story beats drag the game down. The better puzzles don't negate the more volatile combat, and the warmer settings aren't necessarily more intriguing or jaw-dropping than what the player's already seen in the snowy mountains. The phenomenal ship graveyard section encapsulates Drake's Deception well: is it fun and exciting? Sure! Does it feel necessary to the overall Uncharted experience? Uh, no, not really.

Pandemic Legacy: Season 1 - Thoughts

[contains minor spoilers]

Brief note about aforementioned spoilers: I try not to specifically spoil anything important from the game, but know that any details that are different from the base game of Pandemic are technically a spoiler, so just be aware of that. If the game is currently sitting on your board game shelf, I recommend skipping this whole article and just starting it right now.

Pandemic Legacy: Season 1 is a fascinating experiment. Four diseases break out across the world every time you sit down to play, and you must globe hop in an attempt to stymie the infections, biding your time until you have enough city cards to eradicate each plague. Being a legacy game, what happens in one game can affect all future games; if Paris begins rioting early into your playthrough, it'll probably burn itself down to the ground in a future session. While Pandemic Legacy has a lot of fantastic mechanics at its core, I'd contest that what keeps players coming back to the game is this simple question: when the world begins to crumble, how would you mitigate casualties?

I've never really loved Pandemic. It's a palatable blend of soft strategy and random card pulls, but I've always preferred as little RNG as possible in my board games. At times Pandemic can feel too dependent on what cards your team draws, and it's also a game where one player can effectively make all the decisions. My board gaming group lives a considerable distance away from me, so rather than bug them about playing a legacy game every time I visit, I decided to solo Pandemic Legacy to see what all the fuss was about. I was concerned about the difficulty playing alone—especially since I lost the two practice games I played beforehand—but it honestly wasn't all too bad! After a few plays you get used to when the epidemic cards pop up (ie cards that worsen the condition of infected cities), and every unlucky card pull is usually counterbalanced by a narrow victory.

Pandemic is plenty of fun on its own, but the Legacy version is where the premise of the franchise really shines. Early on in my playthrough, South America and Africa got hit hard with disease. In the base game I would've helplessly watched as the continents rapidly went dark, but here I could try and slow their decay. And doing all you can is a good idea too: Pandemic Legacy lasts a full year in-game, with each play session covering a month or half a month, meaning you'll play anywhere from 12-24 times total. And while losing cities is bad in the base game, here they'll become frequent hot spots that spread infection every time you play. So when South America and Africa began deteriorating in the first quarter of my year, I was faced with a grueling choice: do I run my operatives in to halt the outbreaks there, or focus on the main objective in the hopes of finishing the game faster? One session I chose the former, and it cost me my win that month.

But as my campaign continued on, it became harder and harder to save cities on the brink of disaster, especially when I received ways to quarantine those danger zones. One of the coolest things about Pandemic Legacy is that it has a lot of "unlockable" content that's tucked away in boxes and portfolios, which the game will tell you when to open. And it doesn't add more to the game as much as it starts to transform how you'll play and interact with it. You'll acquire more options for moving your characters, empowering your cards, or stopping diseases—all of which are frequently backed by the game's military forces. So rather than send in medical teams to treat sick citizens, I was marching troops to the border to prevent anyone—infected or healthy—from leaving. One month I was rushing operatives into Africa to save it, the next I was setting up blockades and reporting that everyone inside was already lost. As I watched Africa fall, I told myself "this is the only way to keep the world safe!"

Moments like that and many others are what elevate Pandemic Legacy above its parent game. In the base game, the novelty of seeing a continent wracked by disease loses its impact after the first experience, but in Legacy you have to live with your decisions. I had failed Africa, and was forced to watch as South America slowly, month by month, descended into chaos. And every now and then the damage would bleed over into Europe and North America, and I'd reconsider my priorities. The casualties were already so high—could I really condemn Atlanta and Madrid to the same fate? (The answer was eventually "yes" to the former.)

Besides having difficult decisions, Pandemic Legacy is phenomenally well-balanced and fun to play. Every major unlock adds a new mechanic to the game, keeping it from getting stale while not overloading you with too many moving parts. The game is easy to learn and gives you plenty of customization in the form of end-game upgrades for your characters and cards. It layers on a good amount of strategy at a very natural pace, but the game's biggest draw still goes to the tough questions that'll arise as a city begins to fall. The only thing I was really disappointed in was the scoring system you're given after Pandemic Legacy ends (one specific category is cruelly "all-or-nothing"), but it's a minor complaint to an otherwise excellent campaign.

Pandemic Legacy isn't the best introduction to modern board gaming, but it's accessible nature basically means there's no reason not to play it. It's a stressful game, but it's never punishing; you might panic over the state of the world as epidemic cards are pulled in quick succession ("no not Khartoum again!"), but you'll learn to accept the consequences and move on. And as you do so... as you quarantine another dying city... as you replace all your medical personnel with generals and soldiers... you'll start to wonder, "is what I'm doing necessary? Is it right? Could I have done more?" And the answers will range from bittersweet, to downright haunting.

Even if you're not a big board game person, you should still play Pandemic Legacy—you won't regret the experience.
---------------------

Images obtained from: spieledeluxe.com, richcontext.com, boardgamequest.com, polygon.com

klocki - Thoughts

The connection to Hook is immediately apparent as soon as klocki boots up: it's a no frills, no story, no nonsense puzzle game that's all about exercising your wits for around an hour. Unlike Hook however, you likely won't walk away from it thinking "was that really it?" I enjoyed Hook but couldn't really say it hooked me; klocki on the other hand, kept me enthused all the way to the end.

The biggest difference between the two games (besides the bright colors) is that klocki changes up how you interact with it. It's primarily a game about moving squares around so that they form either complete circuits or rounded-off line segments, but the mechanics will be shaken up every five levels or so. At first you'll patching together simple circuits, then you'll be creating circuits on three dimensional objects, then the way in which you can spatially manipulate the tiles will change, then you'll be making multiple circuits, etc. It starts off extremely simple but gets visually complicated, to the point that outsiders will likely be unable to parse any information at the final puzzles.

Like I mentioned, what keeps klocki ticking is that any time you get bored or frustrated with a mechanic, the game will quickly shift over to something else. The only time I'd argue that it gets particularly vexing is when sliding blocks are introduced, since the rigidness of that mechanic doesn't flow with the laid-back pace of the rest of the game. Thankfully the three 9x9 stint of sliding puzzles is the worst of it; for the most part, klocki is a relaxing game to mellow yourself out with at the end of a long day. Like Hook it's not a brain burner in any way shape or form, but it'll still provide a gentle release seeing your lines light up.