Ys, the really-confusing-to-pronounce-until-someone-actually-says-it series, came back in 2010 with the oath of felghana-- A very exciting thing for myself in particular.
You know, there's a certain feeling you get when you clear something tough in Ys for the first time, of which you don't get often today. A feeling that you absolutely, undoubtably earned what you just got. It was either tough as all hell or took a lot of dedication, but you did it with the fluidity of bruce lee and the sheer ferocity of a rabid bear.
Because you had to. True difficulty is needing to develop an automatic response to the things around you. It has nothing to do with numbers. Numbers are numbers. You had to put your heart and your mind into it.
You know-- The game's good. Really good, in fact. So good that I can't stand it. I hate it. Everything works the way it's supposed to. I'm not used to it here and now. I can't take it.
I'm used to pressing a button and seeing things die after an automatically-executed move, not this-- New-fangled monstrosity of a game.
It's so terrible, the way that you have two context-sensitive jump attacks. Or the way that you have to charge your spells. Or maybe the way that you're locked into difficult situations, testing your skill rather than the developer's ability to make the funny puppets kill eachother and wear tiny hats. Maybe it's the way you have to start all over from the last save point. How disgusting! Proper pacing is so...Sensible and thoughtful and-- immersive.
I'm too impatient for it now. I've been drained of thought processes by instantly gratifying games, giving me a treat for taking my first steps at age 20 and grunting when I need to shit.
What's never seemed to die in the Ys series is its willingness to build itself around every little mechanic it presents, nor does it ever cease in trusting the player has more than three active brain cells.
It shines out, in a way, simply by being so mundane and correct despite its engaging and clever use of mechanics. Like Dragon Quest always seems to.
In conclusion, this game is horrible. 0/10, wouldn't play again, it's an insult to modern gaming as it hasn't adapted to the age of being a slobbering imbecile only capable of sitting and complaining about not knowing what to do. It also smells like rotten prosciutto and good cheese, but that's probably the opinion of EA's investors, who know a lot about video games because EA knows everything. That's what EA told me, anyways.
You know, there's a certain feeling you get when you clear something tough in Ys for the first time, of which you don't get often today. A feeling that you absolutely, undoubtably earned what you just got. It was either tough as all hell or took a lot of dedication, but you did it with the fluidity of bruce lee and the sheer ferocity of a rabid bear.
Because you had to. True difficulty is needing to develop an automatic response to the things around you. It has nothing to do with numbers. Numbers are numbers. You had to put your heart and your mind into it.
You know-- The game's good. Really good, in fact. So good that I can't stand it. I hate it. Everything works the way it's supposed to. I'm not used to it here and now. I can't take it.
I'm used to pressing a button and seeing things die after an automatically-executed move, not this-- New-fangled monstrosity of a game.
It's so terrible, the way that you have two context-sensitive jump attacks. Or the way that you have to charge your spells. Or maybe the way that you're locked into difficult situations, testing your skill rather than the developer's ability to make the funny puppets kill eachother and wear tiny hats. Maybe it's the way you have to start all over from the last save point. How disgusting! Proper pacing is so...Sensible and thoughtful and-- immersive.
I'm too impatient for it now. I've been drained of thought processes by instantly gratifying games, giving me a treat for taking my first steps at age 20 and grunting when I need to shit.
What's never seemed to die in the Ys series is its willingness to build itself around every little mechanic it presents, nor does it ever cease in trusting the player has more than three active brain cells.
It shines out, in a way, simply by being so mundane and correct despite its engaging and clever use of mechanics. Like Dragon Quest always seems to.
In conclusion, this game is horrible. 0/10, wouldn't play again, it's an insult to modern gaming as it hasn't adapted to the age of being a slobbering imbecile only capable of sitting and complaining about not knowing what to do. It also smells like rotten prosciutto and good cheese, but that's probably the opinion of EA's investors, who know a lot about video games because EA knows everything. That's what EA told me, anyways.
