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   Skies of Arcadia - Staff Review  

Needs More Rum
by Captain Jack Sparrow

Click here for game information
PLATFORM
White, Noisy Thing with a Swirl...
BATTLE SYSTEM
Unrealistic in the Extreme
INTERACTION
Completely Satisfying
ORIGINALITY
Definitely Present
STORY
On Par With Shakespeare's Finest, After Ingesting Much Rum
MUSIC & SOUND
Infinitely Preferable to Royal Navy Sea Singalongs
VISUALS
Indistinguishable From A Painting, at a Distance
CHALLENGE
Maddeningly Persistent
COMPLETION TIME
A Transatlantic Crossing's
OVERALL
Most Definitely Desirable Compared to Scurvy
Click here for scoring definitions 

   A Game Analysis, Courtesy of Captain Jack Sparrow

   It appears that we have here a young pirate fellow named Vyse who just can't stand not to be helping people, which is quite the odd thing for a pirate to practice. But I'll grant young Vyse his odd wishes and just judge how well he follows the pirate code in all its particulars, because as a pirate it is impingent upon him to not besmirch, bestain, befuddle, or otherwise 'be' anything bad from the view of other said pirates. And by such a standard I must admit to a fair amount of puzzlement at Vyse's inability to enrich himself at the expense of those he has chosen for opposition, namely this Valuan nation. Having tangled with quite a few members of a different imperial grouping under my own auspices it becomes quite baffling to me that a similarly overreaching empire would not be possessed of gold and treasures in quantities most numerous. Instead Vyse must attempt to garner his fortune courtesy of a large assortment of creatures that come running, flying, hopping, digging, skipping, falling, and other assorted verbiage all translating into some sort of movement in Vyse's direction, which simply does not match with my recollections of how funds are collected by a pirate. There being two principal difficulties with the course Vyse has set in his fund acquisition, the first being that wild animals as a rule do not possess anything more than a sufficiency of protein for one's troubles in slaying said buggers, and no personal experience or widely-recollected stories admit to any pirate finding any quantities of gold through the death of beasts. The other issue I must take with Vyse's little adventure has to do with the eagerness of these crazed animals to attack him on a consistent basis, such a thing not being typical of the pirate lifestyle. And so long as I am taking umbrage with the highly atypical lifestyle Vyse's quest represents, I must note the incomprehensibility of becoming a better fighter simply by acquiring a better weapon. Unless I need a weapon strong enough to not be broken by some inopportune claws breaking it, I have never felt it necessary to grab new weapons off the shelf in the naive belief that a new weapon will make up for any surfeit in my combat aptitude.

   Now I must take great umbrage at young Vyse's pronouncement of himself to be a true pirate when he somehow has captured the affections of two bonny lasses and yet never attempts to squirrel away with them, at least by my admittedly imperfect recollection. As a rather successful pirate it shall be duly noted my ability to woo comely lasses day in and day out -

   Barbossa: Jack, ye'll be causin' great offense among the audience if'n ye proclaim yerself such a dynamo. Who was it what needed me to save 'is hide from the wenches o' that Portuguese brothel?

   *Bang!*

   Dear me, the things a pirate can partake of after ingesting too much rum is undoubtedly what dear Barbossa had been saying before an unanticipated accident interrupted his lengthy pontification. Which is another item I simply cannot understand in relation to this Vyse's story, how a pirate can possibly refrain from consuming copious quantities of rum whenever the delightful beverage be present.

   Now belying the already stated quibbles I possess with this Vyse's actions, I must confess that if I had a flying ship it just might behave in a manner akin to what Vyse enacts. His journey, when not interrupted by roving imperial forces (a condition I am quite experienced in) is a detailing of how one man wishes to explore the new and unseen. Despite occasionally coming up with horrible things no pirate should ever have to see in my travels (the French navy and its horrible brutality toward my sea turtle friends comes to mind) exploration yet lingers in my bones as a sensation to be embraced endlessly. Vyse feels this sensation most acutely and I may thus deem him to be in spirit a true pirate, despite his inexplicable lack of rum consumption. Speaking of that delightful beverage, I must profess a sudden inclination to imbibe a generous quantity... *gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp* ... much improved.

   There was a great deal of sound in Vyse's story but I must duly protest the absence of any sea shanties to pass the time, it goes against pirate code to be a pirate and not sing off-key while drunk of things that innocent ears will be forever tainted by!

   Captain Teague: The Code must be obeyed. *Shoots a developer for failing to uphold the code.*

   Thanks dad. Couldn't have said it better meself.

   That brings me to another line of critique with regard to this endeavor though the means whereby the two concepts are linked currently escapes me; the colossally unhelpful nature of the controlling motions to act in an inverse manner. Particularly after ingesting a generous helping of rum I simply cannot be bothered to think about the motions I am making, thus aggravating me most copiously when up means down and down means up upon trying to fight these fantastical creatures bearing treasure.

   It is also quite odd to behold such a high level of Italian intrigue in the upper echelon of Vyse's opposition. Certainly I've occasioned upon many Italians in my sails, and never come off the better for it, but it stretches credulity to have such a high proportion of a naval command to be Italian.

   *Italian pirate happens by, breaks empty rum bottle over Jack's head.*

   Ouch. That reminds me of something that I can't recall - do you know?

   Jack 1: Wasn't it to do with that William Turner?

   Jack 2: Yeah, that bugger who took your chance to be immortal away!

   Hm. Indeed it must have had something to do with him... but now that my head hurts I really must get back to sea. After a touch more rum, naturally.

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