The marketing material only shows the first part of the Inscryption with brief hints that there’s anything beyond that, but I can’t just pretend that’s all there is. I don’t know how far it’s appropriate to describe the game. My most powerful hand backfired on me, and when I finally finished toppled the boss, it was with a pretty below-average deck made up for by my highly developed gamer brain. Developing strategies to overcome the random nature of the game was satisfying, and I didn’t feel like I was a lame duck just because the game was handing me everything I didn’t want.
Honestly, I think the atmosphere and gameplay could have carried the whole game. Doing so gives you access to more cards and carvings that allow you to creep further and further along the map. There’s clever roguelite progression that comes from exploring the cabin and solving puzzles. You progress from encounter to encounter along a map, collecting cards, and defeating bosses played by the game master.
Inscryption, at least from the outset, is sort of a cross between a CCG, a deckbuilding game, and a tabletop RPG. The clinch is that when you lose, you die. Like a relationship-starved tabletop gamer, he immediately forces you to join him in a competitive card game. You find yourself locked in a cabin with a shadowy gentleman. You’re presented with a situation that is simple to understand, but you can instantly tell that there are insects under the surface, and if you just take hold of the dog-eared corner and pull, you’ll be treated to a new perspective. So, I guess I can’t blame developer Daniel Mullens for sticking to that. As you peel it all back, things start to make sense, and that creates a strong feeling of satisfaction as all the pieces start slotting together. What I ended up with is, “It’s a game about being in a toxic friendship with Satan.” It was an experimental title in terms of narrative, taking place mainly on a single screen and layering on the deception.
I recently had to describe the concept of Pony Island to someone.
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