Some games are tough to review if you aim to avoid spoilers. Not even because giving out their story would ruin the fun, but because they rely on twists and turns so much that giving a single one away can be detrimental to the fun of discovery. INSCRYPTION is, for me, a prime example of such a game. I want to talk a lot about it, but if I delve into every detail I will rob you, dear reader, of a solid heft of its fun factor. This is one of these rare reviews where I read a lot of the other ones just to check how other writers handled it. It seems there's a rather universal and unspoken agreement to not divulge how crazy this game gets, focusing on, let's say, Act One of this whole nonsense. I will respect that here as well, even if the game is not exactly fresh by now and most everyone interested in the title would already know its... peculiarities.
Daniel Mullins seems to be quite a character when it comes to game design. In 2016 he jumped into the game-o-sphere with his PONY ISLAND. A title that at first glance looked like some cheap shovelware made over a knee. Which was exactly the trick this devious designer wanted to play on the players. Under the crude surface he hid a cornucopia of features to dig into, a delightfully insane blend of genre, layered thick with creepy vibes and a shaky, unstable atmosphere. I am not going to claim it was revolutionary, but it felt fresh in a very unhinged kind of way. And put Daniel Mullins on the map and in the minds of indie enthusiasts, that's for sure. Then in 2018, he graced us with THE HEX - a dark, story-driven meta-adventure through the Gaming World, as peculiar and eerie as you could imagine.
But it was the INSCRYPTION that felt like the most definitive work of his mind, for now, the essence of the insipid terror that the game tries to inject into your mind. By now we should be used to that confines of a single genre mean very little to Mr Mullins, but INSCRYPTION even in that regard is pretty conservative - it's a roguelike deck builder, through and through. It's everything that's around it that makes it stand out from the crowd, offering a very unique and riveting experience that will pin you to the chair and send a shiver down your spine.
Because you see, the cards are very real. They are not merely a device to frame the game narrative, they ARE the narrative. You're trapped in a wooden cabin with a rather murderous individual, always locked in shadows. Dreadful, bright eyes follow your movements, and whenever they extend their limbs you can see that whoever is sitting by the other end of the rickety table is not exactly human. It seems, however, that your uncanny captor has a firm set of rules he will follow as well as you do. The game laid before you is important to them. Your hard-won victories won't get mitigated by some cheap shift of rules or their anger at losing. Firmness in following the rules is part of the game.
But the game itself is pure horror. Like a skilled dungeon master your captor will guide you through the dark realm of swamps and forests carved in wooden trinkets. Decisions of what to do, what to pick, and what to play are not easy, and the games are demanding. Victory is never easy. Especially when the cards start talking to you? Hallucinations? Maybe. Stress from bloodless? Perhaps. But the cards come to life, give you hints, tell you what to do. Not always being correct, either. As the game progresses it becomes obvious that this is not merely entertainment for the bored monster sitting in front of you. There are some serious stakes in place and your souls might be on the line.
If you're ever in an unfavorable position on the board, you're given tools to sacrifice a bit of yourself to save yourself from certain doom. Pull a tooth to add to the scale of points. Pluck out your eyeball in the most visceral fashion, losing a bit of vision to tilt the scales in your favor. Snuff out their candles and combat through various masks they put on as the dread seeps in. And in between excruciating rounds of card combat, you're at leeway to explore the little cabin - which acts as an escape room. Riddled with puzzles and hints, it will test your cunning and power of perception as well as your ability to discern information given by your living cards. Bit by bloody bit you can try to untangle yourself from your host and perhaps attain your freedom. After all, they are following the rules they set down before you, to the letter. Well. Unless they want to teach you a lesson, that is.
The problem is, they keep adding more rules. Oh yes, the game starts simple, but it doesn't stay that way for long. New mechanics, format, and features pile in. Bone tokens. Totems. Shifts in plays that seem designed to screw you over. The game might be just, and no rule ever creeps on you without proper explanation, but it is clear that your malignant opponent does not going to make it easy for you. You will learn to adapt, to sacrifice, and to think ahead. Especially since there are no do-overs - your loss means starting mostly from scratch, but with the new knowledge you will possess as a player.
And then, when you finally win, when in the end you triumph over the monster... be ready, because this, as the trope likes to say, is just the beginning. There's an overarching meta-narrative, a story about an avid card collector and player digging through some old and discarded game. Seemingly cursed. Possibly evil. Perhaps there's a conspiracy at hand, too!
All that is wrapped in the most gorgeous art and sound package you can imagine. The vibes are impeccable, and they are seeping evil and dread through every pore. Details are crisp, the lighting is moody and atmospheric, and the darkness - encompassing. You will never feel comfortable in the cabin, always put on edge. Music is fantastic, empowering each moment - every new 'boss' you face brings their twist to the theme, raising hair on your forearms, and sending a jolt down your spine. Sounds are crunchy and visceral, letting you feel the impact of your actions and yours terrible captor alike. It's executed with mastery that is hard to achieve and impossible to reproduce.
I didn't delve into the mechanics of the game on purpose - the card battles are rather rudimentary and easy to follow. What keeps them engaging is how often they shift. How many new elements, bits, and bobs you're introduced to each round, each step of your progress. They never become overwhelming or hard to keep your focus on, but they add layers of complexity that make a roguelike game click and work from start to finish. There's hardly ever a singular way of solving a situation. You're given proper leeway in your deck-building strategies and can make many suitable combos to see you succeed. So while you should be very afraid of your predicament, never fear experimenting with your cards.
INSCRYPTION is incredible. It weaves its elements with uncanny mastery, offering a dread-inducing narrative with clever card mechanics and engaging features to keep you on high alert at all times. Every discovery tends to hit you hard, every action has weight to it that you will feel in your bones. If I could summarize the game experience in one word it would be Visceral. It's one of those rare games that I would absolutely recommend even to people who are far from being fans of the genre. Because it stands out so much, brings such unique flavors to the whole experience that I consider it a loss for anyone who denies themselves checking it out. Do yourself a favor, and check this one out.
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