I love the quiet of The Long Dark â the essential, soft and rounded naturalness of a world absent the things of man. It is encompassing, enveloping. Not silence, but ambience. The sound of wind. The sound of water. Of boots crunching in snow and the harsh, rasping pop of a dying highway flare barely illuminating a dark, cold stairwell. The sound is story.
The point-and-click text-only dialogue that happens outside of cut scenes is not. There is an unrealistic (and distracting) starvation mechanic that has me dying of hunger just a few hours after eating nine pounds of hot wolf meat. There are fetch quests that are tedious unless, in the middle of them, luck, personal idiocy and the game's own ticking, cruel algorithms throw up some combination of storm, injury, lack and danger that suddenly make them terrifyingly engaging.
[
Collection
]
[
|
...
]