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erastesNo? Well I bloody do I hate them I hate them I hates them, precious. They burns us. It's stinking well infuriating to work your way through a level where you are honing your "running and jumping" (and occasional running away) skills, and then get to the end and have to face a fucking Minotaur who isn't affected by any weapon in your arsenal (and I'd been hoarding bullets like a war-happy Scrooge, too) who throws firebolts at you and the best way of avoiding him is to run around like a headless chicken. ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Boss battles are the scourge of my gaming life.
Look at Metal Gear Solid (particularly the first one). My main skill in that one (and one that is encouraged) is to stay OUT of danger and HIDE. I raised hiding to High Art, and could fit into cupboards, lurk under coffee tables and sofas like a draught excluder. And so, how - PRAY, was that training me to cope with men with tanks? Or a huge robot driven by a psycho? Oh. I'll just go and hide under the sofa until it goes away? No! There's NO BLOODY SOFA - there's just the manic with the tank!!!! SQUASH!
What was the point of me learning to hide, plis?
Anyway, the game I'm playing and currently Failing at, is Indiana Jones and the Emperor's Tomb. I don't see what training me to swing and ropes and chains, pistol whipping Nazi stooges and SWIMMING does to help when confronted by said Minotaur who seems to want to pull my fucking arms off.
Look at Metal Gear Solid (particularly the first one). My main skill in that one (and one that is encouraged) is to stay OUT of danger and HIDE. I raised hiding to High Art, and could fit into cupboards, lurk under coffee tables and sofas like a draught excluder. And so, how - PRAY, was that training me to cope with men with tanks? Or a huge robot driven by a psycho? Oh. I'll just go and hide under the sofa until it goes away? No! There's NO BLOODY SOFA - there's just the manic with the tank!!!! SQUASH!
What was the point of me learning to hide, plis?
Anyway, the game I'm playing and currently Failing at, is Indiana Jones and the Emperor's Tomb. I don't see what training me to swing and ropes and chains, pistol whipping Nazi stooges and SWIMMING does to help when confronted by said Minotaur who seems to want to pull my fucking arms off.
