I've brandished my sword.
I've slept a sleep of death.
I've mounted a horse and scaled numerous buildings and eavesdropped on a conversation about a basket weaver. I've picked a pocket.
After all this, the promise is still a promise, neither confirmed nor repudiated.
My almost-initial impressions are this:
a. The graphics have me tongue-tied. AC is visually beautiful. So beautiful that I found it difficult to shake my audience: players and non-players alike get sucked into the life-like details: the swoosh of robes, the feathers of a bird, the clippity-clopping of a galloping horse. It's a compelling game to merely watch.
b. From a story/action/puzzle-completion standpoint, Assassin's Creed hasn't sucked this girl in the way my good friend Lara Croft did. One could argue I'm more mature now, and so less easily ensnared by a game, less prone to addiction. That would be a spurious argument: anyone who witnessed my alcohol intake this holiday season would know I have the makings of an addict. There is something -- or rather there is not something -- that hasn't pull me in as immediately as I had expected. I'm making no definitive judgements yet. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Tuesday, 1 January 2008
Second Impressions
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