My Top Ten Most Influential Games: #10. Devil May Cry 3.

Let’s rock baby!

Easily one of the coolest additions to this list, “Devil May Cry 3: Dante’s Awakening” was anarchic, bloody, loud and violent. Exuding a stylistic combat system that benefitted from an absurd visual fluidity that made every blistering encounter with the malformed demons feel as though it was your last. From the very first confrontation, instigating one of the most justifiable acts of violence after Dante’s pizza is crushed by the foot of a cloaked assailant, Dante eliminates several adversaries by slicing a pool table in half, shooting the cue ball into the suspended cluster of balls that has hurtling past him for multiple Fatalities, I knew this was something special. Having already played and completed the series previous two incarnation I knew what to expect from this Gothic themed aberration of the Resident Evil series. You can immediately distinguish the games emphasis on a more effectual approach to combat that was sadly absent from its predecessor, establishing confrontations that necessitated a formidable agility, fleet dexterity and a logistical objective. Though the game excelled at the traditional hack n slash, liquidate enemies into a fine sulphuric paste methodology the game was brutally relentless.

If Dmc3 were obliged to shack your partner’s hand it would steal them away, marry them, take both the house, your kids and the dog in the divorce settlement before you even introduced them. Enemies, though singularly were easy to resist relied on sheer numbers to overwhelm you, coordinating horde like advances that required crucial versatility of your progressively expansive artillery and proficiency in their utilisation. Almost every stage introduced a new foe or a variant to engage with, one that demanded an adaptation to an immediately redundant strategy. It was challenging and downright frustrating at times, yet satisfying in masochist kind of way. There was this energetic sophistication that made every recurrent button press seem urbane and graceful, even though I looked like an agitated shopper trying frantically to get my pin code to verify. The bosses too posed their own significant challenges, providing conflated dangers due to their embellished physicality and exceedingly hostile yet singular combat styles. Whether it was their inflated stature or malformed concepts, each boss looked and felt unique.

The gothic architecture and other garish aesthetics only compounded the real sense of encroaching peril, as the suppression of reality became more distorted and sense of isolation became an arresting anxiety, as Dante slowly navigated his way through this dilapidated tower that at times assumed a façade reminiscent of a cathedral. The ornate arches sweeping along corridors and elaborate doors played havoc with your sense of direction, becoming the games most persistent impediment. But as brooding and macabre the clustered environments appeared to be you could always rely on Dante to provide commentary and insight that, uttered by anyone else would sound derivative and cliché. Dmc3 for me portrayed the most realised interpretation of Dante, and really the first time he was given a personality. His pithy, petulance and egotistical proclivities somehow made him a more appealing character, exhibiting an abstract masculinity that was both irritating yet endearing. Not to mention a destructive sibling rivalry that could challenge even the Gallagher brothers enduring contempt.
The most compelling reason for elevated and coveted position on my top ten is an amalgamation of all these many formidable attributes, but it’s most perennial influence was its riff heavy, orchestral/metal soundtrack. The rousing orchestral tempo, fused with the aggressive fervour of metal punctuated every battle in this game to such an exhilarating degree. The soundtracks energizing compliment made every slice of your blade seem like the difference between life and death. I can still recite the individual themes for most the boss encounters including all 3 Dante VS Vergil iterations. In fact it’s a soundtrack I still listen too.

The series, at least for the time being is seemingly on a permanent hiatus, owing to the rather divisive nature of its passive re-imagining, which is sad and by no means a way to end my first entry into the top 10 most inspirational games. Instead here is one of my favourite scenes from Dmc3 that emphasises the absurd violence, humour and intoxicating awesomeness of this franchise. Cheers.

 

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Thorpe Park; Crushing My Memories, My Heart And My Genitals.

Thorpe Park has always been my families preferred destination when it came to extravagant days out. Having attended Surrey’s most prestigious and only theme park since the age of about 4, I can now safely navigate its intricate and confusing arrangement of attractions with precision, despite the warren of concession stands, gift shops and new or refurbished rides. So when my girlfriend suggested that we should go there to celebrate her birthday I was thrilled. We are both theme park enthusiasts, having holidayed in Florida specifically to sample some of the world’s most elaborate roller coasters. Though Thorpe Park is comparatively more reserved than its trans Atlantic cousins its still one of my favourites. It had been too long since our last visit and a birthday appeared to be the most opportune time to remedy such a prolonged absence. I was wrong.

We had decided to leave after 9am to nullify the amount of congestion we would inevitably encounter along the motorway that reticulated around London and the adjacent areas. As luck would have it the only extended traffic we encountered was due to road works a few miles from the junction opposite Thorpe Park. It being a rather brisk Friday we had anticipated that the park would be suitablely quiet, with most potential customers confined to their respective schools or place of business. But it seemed as though half the country had conspired to truant, conveniently assembling here for the singular purpose of disrupting our intimate day! Never mind, theme parks are after all inherently labouring places to frequent, requiring compromise to utilise and delegate your time more efficiently anyway. Besides we were persevered by the elation of indulging in our nostalgic whims, which we took immediate advantage of by heading straight for the enduring anchor of my childhood, the log flume “Loggers Leap”. This was the one statutory attraction you had to ride, the very essence of what made Thorpe Park so eternally adored. And it was gone. Dismembered, vacant, crushed. And so was I.

Instead of being greeted by the sight of a cascade of water trickling down from the peak of the tubular track, the fabricated logs brushing gently against the sides of the rail, the smell of stagnant water abusing the nostrils or the shrill wail of children when they reached the top of the ascent and realise there were no harnesses to prevent them from falling out were gone, replaced by punctuated silence. A vacant space, bereft of amusement or purpose. And it’s sad. It was never the most thrilling of rides, but retained the traditional aesthetics of the parks formative years, like the mechanical stuttering noise it used to make. My girlfriend and I could only commiserate its demise by appealing for a swift refurbishment of this once great ride rather than shamefully gutting it’s exterior for the emergence of another gaudy attraction. But we weren’t about to allow frivolous nostalgia pervert our fun, even if one intolerable and uniquely hostile customer endeavoured to do so, asserting his abrasive behaviour while cueing to an uncomfortable audience of parents and children. A bloated scrotum of a man who expressed his chagrin to the obstruction of cues, with a vocabulary solely comprised of profanities and other luried solicitations. We remained steadfastly optimistic that things would get better, that the ever figuratively rotating worm was invariably about to turn like so many of these impressive rides. That is until we decided to actually board some of these rides.

Over the years Thorpe park has changed its policy on who the Park is specifically catered to. Adapting from it’s initially established family orientated experience, into something much more equipped towards the exuberance of teenagers and young adults who wish to sample ever increasing eleberations of speed and convolution. As such many of the more invigorating rollercoasters require over the shoulder restraints to secure passangers, as well as crush their genitals, who will be spun vertically with an exerting force, which as it turns out is a devastating impediment for anyone with ample chest, as my girlfriends robust cleavage prevented the harness from fastening over her shoulders and securing her safely. Of course we didn’t discover this hindrance until after we’d cued for close to an hour. The ride is now temporarily halted by breasts, as the female members of staff attempted to forcibly manoeuvre the restraints into the locking mechanism with little regard for my girlfriends comfort. But despite repeated attempts they simply would not secure, leaving my girlfriend to abandon two rides under similar circumstances: embarrassed, tearful and cursing her weight and figure. We soldiered on eventually discovering a sample seat to another sprawling roller-coaster, whereby individuals can test there eligibility. Of course the almost identically designed harness clarified that this was yet another attraction we couldn’t attempt. At least we discovered this before we cued I suppose.

By this time we’d both had enough. Having made the slow and despondent trek back to the car I endeavoured to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault. That though we were both understandably disappointed by the ensuing debacle, I assured her that her distorted perception of her size and image that she currently loathed was not an accurate reflection of her as the attractive, tender and beautiful women she truly is. Not to mention how lucky I am that she chooses to remain with a perpetual man child with a chronic dependancy on gaming and aggravatingly averse to social interactions. So I guess I should thank Thorpe Park for its sobering candor and reaffirming my girlfriend and mines enduring love for one another.

So if you’re intending to go to Thorpe Park I’d advise caution. It’s overpriced, seemingly misogynistic, at least when it comes to female breasts, sporadically functional amusement park that will crush both your dreams and genitals like an ill fitting harness. Happy Birthday everyone!

Warframe: The Game That Keeps On Giving.

First impressions are important. They enable individuals to positively affect how others perceive them. Most of us want to endear ourselves to another or casually aggregate oneself into a tight-knit group of friends. Yet attempts to positively influence a strangers view of you with only momentary interaction can be difficult to convey. It only takes one flippant gesture, one awry word and the congenial nature they’ve tried to project is forever tarnished. Warframe is the same. Despite its best intentions, employing some fun combat and visual allures we never really clicked. There was no chemistry, no attraction. Our severance was amicable as well as mutual. We’d moved on, seen other people and were content with our lives apart. Until one innocuous day, from across a crowded bar surrounded by dozens of would be suitors you see them, glowing in riveting exultation. They look different, act different. This isn’t the same person I remember, is it? It’s funny how a perception of something can drastically alter after a period of absence and that’s certainly the case with Warframe.

Having originally played Warframe about 3 years ago on the PS4 I’d almost immediately dismissed it as just another pedestrian, free to play third person shooter, customary for the systems conspicuous lack of quality and quantity at the time. But I’ve got to tell you that this really isn’t the game I left behind. So much content has been added through updates that not only expands on the mythology and story but the amount you can do. You can travel to all nine planets in our solar system, and I’m including Pluto in that, as well as quadrants such as the Rift. I’d like to beguile you with each planets environment mystic but to be totally honest with you I can’t, because I’ve only reached my second planet, Venus. Whether you’re defending an alliance stronghold, capturing specific enemies, procuring intel, appropriating civilians from alien incarceration or simply murdering colonies of intergalactic terrorists to death, there is so much to occupy your time that you will probably repeat missions to accumulate resources to build better artillery for your expansive library of guns, as well as other implements of death.

There are a variety of Warframe’s to choose from, each with variable ballistic capabilities as well as special talents that can be activated during combat, dispersing compact groups with devastating effect. Your essentially a space ninja, circumnavigating the galaxy assassinating anyone stupid enough to impede you, and with such a huge roster of Warframes at your disposal you will discover ever more intriguing ways to initiate planetary genocide. Warframe is as mad as Mel Gibson’s drunk addled memoirs, and at times just as explicit. You’ll be hacking and shooting creatures in half with relative ease, even at such an early stage. But it’s not until you’ve really understood the dynamic nature of the Warframe that you’ll truly comprehend the insatiable lustre for speed.

The game has a very steep learning curve that’s difficult to negotiate preliminary. Other more distinguished players, suitably versed in the environments and combat will negotiate areas with a poise that will feel intimidating. You will look and feel cumbersome, often sustaining more hits and dispensing less punishment in the company of these more accomplished competitors. But you will still be a competent, functional member of the team, if not as effective. Speed is essential and there’s a fervent demand to resolve assignments quickly, expediting the trajectory of the mission into an intensely competitive affair between the randomly assembled legation. Manoeuvrability as a Warframe is very much suited to this kind of expeditious versatility. Not only is movement reactive but Warframe’s are proficient in swift verticality, engaging in dynamic wall sprinter and bullet jumps, a self-propelled discipline that sends a Warframe hurtling in any direction with transitory vigour. It’s gloriously fun and probably Warframes most appetising commodity….other than its primary attribution: it’s free.

Being a free to play game encourages participants to really enjoy exploration. Having an initial, obligatory fiscal value attached to it would somewhat diminish its success, but not by much. And of course there’s a premium service available to those that want to purchase a rare weapon or attire their Warframe in more appealing cosmetics, emblazoned in colour coordinated vibrancy. But almost everything you can buy can be earned through rigorous exploration and dedicated repetition. It’s grinding essentially, a deficiency often used to categorise Destiny’s own substantial limitations, but it’s never been this much fun. In fact you begin to wonder why the word grinding is uttered with such contemptuous derision?

Few games offer this kind of dedicated support to a game almost 4 years old, let alone contribute substantial updates that maintains the attention of both new and veteran users. Case in point is a new update expected for release sometime this year called “The Plains of Eidolon” that introduces an open world map, full of new and dangerous enemies as well as considerable opportunity for scavenging essential materials that can be fashioned into powerful weaponry, all of which will be available for free! Considering the enormity of this update, all the time dedicated to constructing an environment not yet seen in Warframe, “Digital Extremes” could have justifiably charged users for the privilege. But they haven’t. Could you imagine Bungie doing the same with Destiny?

You can’t help but admire their passion and applaud their philosophy. In a market saturated with unfinished games that demand further financial contributions to finish adequately, to have a game this expansive that relishes in the charity of its community and their patronage, rather than concealing content behind pay walls is commendable and certainly a rhetoric I’d like to see encouraged by other developers. Money is important, particularly with a game that requires a sustainable source of revenue to maintain its services over extended periods of time. But I believe Digital Extremes have demonstrated that though fundamentally the integrity of the foundation is crucial for generating repeat business, the way in which the structure needs to be constructed isn’t.

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Have you been playing Warframe? If so what do you think of it? And if not……why?! Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

How Rpg’s Are Really Inspired By Childhood.

When I was a kid, during those brief periods when the UK was privileged to experience interludes of illuminating sunshine often referred to as summer, I would lay in the back garden gazing at the crystal blue sky above, imagining that I was stranded on a palatial island in the sky like Laputa and that the sky above was in fact the ocean, cresting towards some far-flung land mass with rhythmic tranquillity. Airplanes were boats skirting across the great blue surface, leaving elegant crests of rippling water streaking across its deep oceanic beauty, like delicate brush strokes on a work of art. The turquoise covered tranquillity seemed to leer down on me with contempt, gleaming with restitutitive properties that aches to be disturbed, wishing that I could dive into its crisp nurturing fluidity. Surveying its pristine expanse for minutes felt like hours, hoping that gravities enduring grasp would relinquish, allowing me to fall into its watery embrace. It’s reviting to think what imagery the young mind is capable of cunjuring. At that age you’re a visionary, with a unique perception of the world that no adult could possibly understand. Insulated against the tyrony of oppressive society that revokes the fertile musings of a child’s aspirations. We covet the obscure, the absurd and the irrational, because they can’t be rationalised. And it’s these capricious sentiments of youth that help craft Rpgs, particularly ones affiliated with fantasy.

The notion of magic, goblins, swords and sorcerers is profoundly whimsical and a distinct component of the juvenile mind. Rpg’s are an extension of that, the yearning for wondrous worlds beyond our own. You embark on imperious adventures as some spirited youth, battling indistinct foes and endeavouring to preserve the safety of some rural village, occupied by vulnerable elves that live a life of passive tolerance towards the aggressive regime of the kingdoms military. These kinds of simple affairs of good and evil evoke so many memories of being a doe eyed kid. Walks to school as a child would be considered an arduous hike by my own mature perspective, but for a kid that 30 minute walk becomes a 30 minute adventure. Suddenly your laboured pace escalates, the mundane journey is now filled with perilous danger as you battle hordes of goblins to defend the rustic village of elves. And all of this is achieved before you’ve even begun the first lesson of the day.

I believe, whether subconsciously or not, that the way we as children perceive the world around us has an abiding influence on adulthood, that nurtures the enduring affinity for spurious realities. Rpg’s embrace that infantile creativity by flaunting the ambitious rigor of dissimilation. Constructing fertile environments where make believe has an extensive mythology rooted in the profound influences we experienced growing up. Creativity is bred from the boundless imagination of youth. Inspiration is carved from the raw potential and purity of that same abstract curiosity. Without the unyielding potential of one’s creativity most fantasy inspired worlds would be tedious imitations of our own. And who wants that?

Perhaps one day gravity will relinquish its persistent grasp that confines me to the earth and send me hurtling towards the ocean above. Someday……

Destiny 2 And How I Secretly Hope It Fails.

I shouldn’t, should I? It’s vindictive to wish failure on a person, let alone an innate product that provides such emphatic elation with mere anticipation alone. I’m an honest guy. I live a life committed to such a principle, completely unabashed by my earnest assertions that sometimes provoke the exasperated mire of others. I try not to hold grudges. They require too much endurance as well as a capacity to recall the offending incident that instigated such a grievance. But there’s something about Destiny that still irritates me. Now I know what you custodians of the mundane and enablers of negligence will persecute my contempt as being ignorant of its abundant refinements that, after years of considerable monetary expansions confute its formative complacency. That the Destiny I remember is not the same game it eventually became. That content has been added to innovate and expand it beyond its evidently specious conception. And Destiny is a profoundly more cogent experience with all the additional features garnished over a distinctly bland infrastructure. But with tortured metaphors aside I can pin point precisely when I knew there was something off about Destiny.

When I played Destiny my initial reaction was one of suitable contentment. The shooting was refined, saturating its environments with enemy combatants whose skulls could be vaporised with satisfying precision. It was replete in beautifully articulated environments, imagined with such detailed creativity that you’re convinced Earth’s now eradicated civilisation and subsequent alien residency is a prophetic glimpse of a legitimate future. It becomes apparent very quickly though that these alluring implements of cranial dissection will only maintain a limited appeal, especially considering the diverse architectures are deposited in rich, detailed environments that are mitigated by the exterior vacuity and finite space to explore. Perhaps my own ambitious perception of what the game was going to be subverted my judgement. Maybe I conjured some romanticized view of the game, interpreted through amalgamated information and misleading marketing. Regardless having neither been initially chided by Destiny’s glaring omissions or irked by the limited environments I persevered seeking some kind of context for my characters sudden aversion to death. You soon reach the Last City, an ornate fortitude populated by a colony of guardians who protect the last bastion of human civilisation with the aid of the traveller: a huge spherical meguffin. Essentially the Last City is the only remaining refuge for mankind, predominantly used as a place to purchase new artillery, modify existing ones and initiate impromptu dance numbers. It’s here, guided by your AI assistant Ghost, basically Wheatley from Portal if it were a fidget spinner with built-in sat-nav, voiced by the eternally catatonic Peter “I needed a new loft conversion” Dinklage that we are introduced to a man eerily referred to as the Speaker. Having searched low and high (Peter Townshend, look it up kids) you discover that the “Speaker” is of very singular expository importance with a name as that couldn’t be more ironic. A man with an extensive knowledge regarding the declination of the human race and other historically pertinent information, that could benefit you on your travels and impart a wisdom, purpose or even a point to your intergalactic exploration.

ME- “Please great Speaker. Confer your infinite wisdom so that I may better understand my purpose and aid you in the preservation of our species?”

Speaker- “I could tell you about the great War that has ravaged our people. A conflict hat has left humanity on the cusp of extinction?…..”

ME– “…… Please do. Continue.”

Speaker- “Oh, look at the time. I really have to go and so must you to…eh…Venus to recover a thing. Go on, off you pop!”

“Seriously, this is what’s supposed to get me excited? Is that a robe?!

That’s it? That’s my incentive? The reasons could be just about anything! Perhaps we borrowed some washing powder and didn’t return it! Anything would be better than some vague briefing! So with that vacant explanation my engagement was quickly rescinded, with the monotonous repetition of participating in the same missions and redacted story providing little engagement. The inflationary nature of Destiny that boasted an unparalleled experience before release, instead concealed its flaunted story behind the compliance of commerce. Stripping necessary portions that would have elevated the game beyond a glorified beta. As a consequence of extensive tampering the finished product felt moderated beyond understanding. The game, consolidated by the paid for “additional features” is far more accomplished, and personally the game it should have been on release. You’d think years of abstinence would have diminished my hostility, that such a churlish resolve would have faded and peaceful, amicable resolution found. Nope, not even slightly. I hate that it was so disappointing. I hate that people forgave it for its obvious manipulation. And I hate that it got a sequel!

All of the trailers leading up to Destiny 2’s release were so obnoxiously abhorrent . There’s a very smug, self-congratulatory quality to them, like it found a pound coin in a shopping trolley. You get a sense that the developers truly believe that Destiny was as important to the games industry as the Bible is to Christians. The trailer also features a rather irritating guardian performing a motivational speech as if he were a stand up comedian poorly imitating Deadpool. It’s so incredibly ostentatious and detestably vulgar, yet I seem to be the only one that recognises just how odious it is?! Destiny 2 could very well be the game of the year and I realise that my conservative estimation of it won’t be influenced or changed by any plaudits it receives or the magnanimous support lauded on to it by a dedicated fan base that relishes its existence, and perhaps that’s my loss. But I doubt it. If you’re one of the many adopters of this very popular franchise then you’ll feel no obligation to advocate your participation, not that I’d ever criticise anyone from enjoying a game I didn’t like. But for me the original Destiny “experience” has left such a virulently bitter taste that has remained agonizingly chronic even now. I can’t forgive its voluntary greed nor its underwhelming performance as a whole. Much like Clarke Gables famous retort to petulant southern dame Catherine O Hara in “Gone With The Wind”, when it comes to Destiny 2, quite frankly I don’t give a damn!

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What do you guys think of Destiny 2? Is it rational to hate a game you’ve never played? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.

For the past 11 or so years I’ve been gainfully employed as a printer. We predominantly manufacture labels with various designs and colours depending on the customer’s very acute specifications. They range from simple, plain rectangular labels that can be applied to sandwich packaging or something intricately decorative with multiple layers, resistant to cold temperatures. The job entails a great deal of studious concentration to ensure that plates, cutters, and slitters are aligned with perfect synchronicity. You’re required to scrutinise the quality of the products being produced to ensure a level of consistency, which is crucial to maintaining individual label standards. Efficiency is essential, necessitating diligent judicial scrutiny to minimise the risk of blemished merchandise. It only takes one smudge, one solitary indentation of a bar code for an entire supply to be rejected, costing the company thousands in reparation. The constant delegation and subsequent retention for prolonged visual observations means that I’m prone to headaches. Nothing severe, but enough to know that a dark room and solitude isn’t without is retributive benefits. Have you ever tried to focus on a moving object, one that gains perpetual momentum as you try to observe the slightest change in a text movements, that is only millimetres in size? It’s challenging, requiring significant mental exertion as opposed to the physical labour, but not overbearing when moderated. The job is largely simple once you understand the complexities. Like anything it’s about repetition and adapting to any issues that may arise. Yet the job, specifically the way the company operates as well as other bureaucratic functions has greatly diminished my interests in continuing to work in this environment.

The last couple of years has been especially challenging, with many colleagues leaving or retiring. The introduction of a new hierarchy that endeavours to run the company in their own laboured fashion has only compounded the issue. Yet the managerial shuffling and staff resignations are just symptoms of as yet undiagnosed ailment. It’s difficult to really isolate precisely what’s made my contributions so apathetic, as I’ve never really loved my job anyway, but there’s an atmosphere around the place that has drained any enthusiasm I had for this profession. It’s provided a solid if not lucrative wage and affords me the opportunity to spend additional time with my daughter as I get every other Friday off work. But it’s not really a career, more of an arcane occupation that’s eminent prestige, once yielding a substantial revenue is reserved for its more prosperous 80’s heyday. The trouble I have is that I don’t really know what else I want to do!

Most people my age have either determined a career to pursue or are actively training towards some specific project. I’m 30 years old and I’m still unsure what I want in a career. I’ve never nurtured an ambition for a prospective career and I’m envious of those who have. People that know precisely what they wish to achieve and have the conviction to go for it no matter the result. For me it isn’t just a case of searching for alternate means of employment, as I don’t simply want to walk out of one job a dislike for another equally dissatisfactory occupation, but instead establishing a direction. Ascertaining an appointment with prospects befitting of my many inert talents.

Money has never been of great value to me. It’s never something I’ve craved. It serves its purposes adequately and any surplus capital available to me once bills as sundries have been sated for another month is used sparingly but affectively. Whether that’s to purchase a new pair of shoes for my daughter, a second-hand game or something altogether less extravagant like a shower fitting. The trouble is that bills and food aren’t getting any more affordable, and the money generated by my girlfriend and I simply doesn’t stretch as far as it used to. So though I am perhaps not comfortable working for a company that equates the loss of employees and increase in business as a positive inflation of financial productivity, my motives for wanting a change are more a little more pragmatic.

There’s no certainty that a vocational adjustment will ameliorate the growing austerity that has only been perpetuated by the UK’s decision to leave the EU. But I’ve spent too long waiting for something to happen and it’s long overdue that I did something, however risky it may seem.

Uncharted: The Lost Legacy. My First Impressions.

You maybe surprised to learn that I’ve been playing “Uncharted:The Lost Legacy”. As if a connoisseur of this franchise wouldn’t be engaged in another exhilarating exhibition of wilful genocide?! The provocateur of many dangerous expeditions, demolisher of precariously constructed structures, eradicator of rare mythological antiquities and hoarder of every Uncharted Platinum. It’s good to be back! Espousing the wretched deeds of a man with the sheer tenacity and fortuity to destroy every last archeological city/ruin/ship he’s ever discovered. Despite this concentrated level of callous destruction Nathan Drake remains an endearing, if accident prone rogue with all the charismatic distinction that made Nate him such an affable protagonist. Sadly with the retirement of Drake into matrimonial domesticity the Uncharted franchise has pandered to the aspirations of feminist vocation, further diminishing the influence of modern masculinity by replacing Nathan Drake with Chloe Frazer. A women. The inferior gender with none of the rugged strength, intelligence or flatulence that makes man a much more viable option for heroism. And it’s glorious!
I’ll miss Drake, of course I will but Chloe isn’t merely a replacement but a necessity. She has always been one of my favourite supporting players so to see her in a more prominent role is deeply gratifying. Her omission in “A Thief’s End” may have been necessary, but it was a glaring absence that betrayed her more illustrious presence in Uncharted 2. Here she’s as sharp as she is wryly. Focused and unyielding yet compassionate and vulnerable. The abrasive dynamic between Chloe and Nadine infuses their tentative relationship with a fluctuant chemistry never explored in the series before. They argue and bicker yet support one another to achieve their mutually independent goals. I’ve yet to finish Lost Legacy, so I’m reserving further analysis until then. But for my money, not that I have any, this could be the start of something new. Nathan Drakes tenure as Uncharted’s chief architect is over, his personal fortune found. But Uncharted itself may have discovered a whole new legacy to commence.

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What do you think of “The Lost Legacy”? Let me know in the comments below. Cheers.