Some thoughts: Eldritch

I am compelled out of silence - for men of industry, in their ignorance, have refused to heed my warnings. It is with a profound apprehension that I recount the reasons for opposing any ventures into that infested region of what has been called 'cyberspace,' and my reluctance is magnified by the knowledge that my warning may be in vain. I cannot avoid the inclusion of all the details and the extravagant and incredible nature of their reality, even if they should cast this whole account into doubt, which I believe they surely will. Included are the images, withheld from the general public until now, of my expedition and they will strengthen the facticity of my claims; for they expose in abhorrent detail what words alone cannot. They will of course be doubted because of the deceptions effected in the past by tools such as Photoshop. The screenshots will most likely be dismissed as mere imitations of other influential, and clearly fictitious, articles; in spite of the subtle corruptions of the angular appearance which should not go unnoticed. Ultimately, I am resigned to the considerations of the reader who, on the one hand, I hope has sufficient knowledge to see this grotesque parody of the familiar for what it is; and on the other, sufficient foresight to heed my warnings, as the sanity of the general public is at stake. For within its Cyclopean corridors lurks a compelling experience that will rob you of hours of your life.

A first-person rogue-like, Eldritch drowns the cubes of Minecraft in the mythology recorded by H.P. Lovecraft. The progeny of this curious marriage is a highly addictive game that is comical as it is terrifying. Trapped within a sprawling library, with scattered books detailing key-bindings and divulging the world's furtive lore, you have to forge a means of escape. The library serves as a nexus of sorts. It houses the glowing books that are used to travel to the different dungeons, in addition to a mirror that provides a few character skins and a chest where artifacts, the game's currency, can be stored. An ominous wooden door behind three white pedestals hint at things to come.

Eldritch's game mechanics adhere to a spartan design philosophy which emphasises choice. To aid the player in his escape, random items lie scattered within the passages of the three-floored-randomly-generated dungeons within the pages of each book. Everything from fists, bottles and rocks to more deadly devices make up the arsenal with which death is dispatched, however only two weapons can be carried at a time. In addition to simply happening on items, vendors can be found who sell an assortment of useful articles. Similarly, only a single spell can be carried and caste at a time. Spells are exchanged at altars discovered through traversing the floors of each dungeon. Both the purchase of items and weapons, and the use of spells require spending artifacts. Interestingly, each corpse plundered allows the dead to rise and infest a different corner of the labyrinth - making looting corpses for ammunition, keys and artifacts a weighted affair.

It is the interplay between spells and items that defines Eldritch's dynamic gameplay. Boots, kits and gear make up the three different types of equipable items found within the game. Like spells only a single slot is available for each type of item, restricting their use to only three at a time. Purchased in shops, or found lying in a dark corner, they bestow remarkable powers to the wielder. In combination with spells, items prove indispensable. Where spells range from turning invisible to summoning blocks capable of trapping the unnameable horrors of the dungeons, items (amongst other things) allow you to move without noise or be resurrected when slain. Like all spells, artifacts are required for some of the items to function.

But of course, as is true of all roguelikes, death is a special sort of penance. Upon meeting your demise at the hands, or tentacles, of those that dwell in the deep - everything carried on your person is lost. Orbs have to be re-obtained, shrines rediscovered and everything else recollected. The only respite against your slaughter is the wooden chest found in the library and at random locations within the dungeons. Here artifacts can be stored, safe from the purging effects of death.

It is this interplay between elements - the artifacts, the randomly generated levels, the weapons, items and spells and their dependence on the currency to function, the risk-reward looting mechanic, and the almost all encompassing consequences of dying - that makes Eldritch such an addictive, nerve wrecking little exercise in the art of rinse and repeat. There is something to be said of games that weave their mechanics into the lore of their world, and in Eldritch it is executed to striking effect. And with a free expansion in the form of an additional book, shrouded in a blueish-white fog, leading to the Mountains of Madness - it would be a peculiar form of deprivation to abstain from its unspeakable delights.