If you’ve read this blog for a while – I am shocked by the fact that I’ve owned this domain for almost twenty years, just quietly – then you’ll know that I’m something of a fan of a bit of period neck-stabbing action. You know, the Assassin’s Creed series, aka Ubisoft’s procession of Conspiracy Woo and Historical Shoulder-Charging Simulator games.
Undead Nefertiti is, unsurprisingly, METAL AS FUCK.
At one point, I played all of the games in a row on my PS3 – from the first up to the then-new(ish – I have a backlog) AC IV: Black Flag. I had a bit of a break then, because there’s only so much assassination you can stand in a row. But, like everyone else, I was pretty solid on the fact that the second game and Black Flag were pretty much tied for the title of favourite.
That was until I got my hidden blade into Origins. Or, rather, it got its talons into me.
I spent some time back in London over the past week or so. It’s been 20 years since I’d been in the Great Wen, but I visited its 1860s facsimile to carry out a bit of neck-stabbing along with the sightseeing.
It’s been a reasonable break since I last visited the Assassin’s Creed universe. Last time I played an AC game, I was kind of underwhelmed with the experience. This time, though? A different story.
Well, I finally spent a week or so neck-stabbing my way around Paris.
It had to happen, I suppose. I mean, I’d played every other game in the series in a year-long PS3 burst, and I’d had this one lined up since I bought my PS4. It had a lot of expectation to live up to, so how did it go?
Over the past three weeks I’ve been reliving some of my gaming history. I finally made time to replay the games in the Sands of Time console reboot of Prince of Persia – games which were among the first I played on my PS2, and games I thought were great. I wondered before I began playing just how they’d stack up to my memories.
(There are more than likely to be spoilers in here, so just be warned. I don’t know about spoiling games that’re now over a decade old, but you know. The internet.)
The originalPrince of Persia was one of the first games I remember having on my PC (at a time when what I really wanted was an Amiga) and it stood out because of how real it felt. There was a sense of weight, of physical presence to the little dude, and it was unforgiving and brutal: you fucked up and you were dead, usually impaled. (more…)