Journey to the Savage Planet Free Download

Journey to the Savage Planet Free Download Unfitgirl

Journey to the Savage Planet Free Download Unfitgirl It’s not a surprise to learn that Journey to the Savage Planet’s creative director last worked on Far Cry 4. The two games are made broadly out of the same pieces: a lush explorable map, some light looting and crafting, and a satirical story as the backbone to hold it all up. But where the Far Cry series has increasingly revolved around a single loop – go to map marker, shoot things at map marker, pick up loot – Journey to the Savage Planet attempts to explode that notion by using its open-ish world far more liberally. It succeeds, for a while. There’s still combat, but Journey to the Savage Planet’s world is also used as a platform for non-guided exploration, puzzle solving, scavenger hunts, and loads of fart jokes. Perhaps its biggest fault is that, as time goes on, it feels as though it can’t quite escape the inexorable gravitational pull towards combat video games so often have, ending with a feeling of ‘cut-price Far Cry’, rather than the grand science fiction experiment it could and perhaps should have been. You wouldn’t know that upon starting out, however. Journey to the Savage Planet opens with a comedic flourish – a pleasingly overblown FMV featuring the CEO of Earth’s fourth-best interstellar exploration company informs you that you’ve landed, er, ‘heavily’ on a planet, codenamed AR-Y 26, that could be used to resettle our species. Your job is to explore it, catalogue its flora and fauna, and see if there’s some kind of cosmic sludge lying around that you can use to refuel your ship and head home. With a certain inevitability, you soon discover that something else has visited AR-Y 26 before you.Unfitgirl.COM SEXY GAMES

And your primary mission becomes to find out what it was, why it left gigantic structures all over the place and, perhaps most importantly, why it isn’t here anymore.  It’s an intoxicating set-up, prodding you into its well conceived (if slightly low-rent) pulp sci-fi world – monsters that liberally spray Nickelodeon gunge, giant mushrooms, inexplicably floating islands and all – teaching you how to get around, and then pretty much leaving you alone. There’s a very broad, but not unenjoyable, satire at work behind all this, showing a version of future humanity devoured and repurposed by mega-corporations – which becomes just a touch ironic when you consider that the developer was bought by Google shortly before release. Savage Planet offers the literal upward momentum and bright palette (both in colour and and emotion) of Grow Home, the slowly uncovered alien history/conspiracy of Outer Wilds, and the gameified taxonomy of Zelda: Breath of the Wild’s Sheikah Slate camera. Ultimately, all those inspirations amount to watching a series of numbers tick up in the form of a naked quest to discover 100% of places (which, delightfully, fills your ship with postcards for them, illustrated like ‘70s novel covers), find 100% of the buried bits of alien technology, and see 100% of nature’s cruellest mistakes. That’s no bad thing, however, if the pursuit of 100% is fun along the way. When Savage Planet begins, it absolutely is. I spent most of my opening hours obsessively scanning wildlife, working out what was coming out of the unidentified egg sacs I kept popping (turns out it’s a series of seeds, used for the likes of bouncing, grappling.

Journey To The Savage Planet Play with a friend.

Or gluing prey to the floor), and returning to my ship/hub, the Javelin, to watch the Justin Roiland-flavoured adverts for dystopic products that play on every screen when you walk in. I spent almost none of those hours doing what Savage Planet asked me to, and I was very rarely reminded that I should be doing something else. It was great. Journey to the Savage Planet is a fantastic name for a pulpy sci-fi game, but is a bit of a misdirect when taken at face value. A “savage planet” conjures up thoughts of hostility and survival, tapping into the inherent dangers of life on the frontiers of space. Sure, there are things that want to kill you in Journey to the Savage Planet, but they’re only a minor inconvenience rather than the main focus. Instead, developer Typhoon Studios places the emphasis on exploration, coupling this with genuine humour and a charming tone to present a lighthearted and singularly focused chunk of sci-fi adventuring. The entire game takes place on a single planet located deep in uncharted space. You’re strapped into the space boots of an employee of Kindred Aerospace–a rinky-dink outfit that’s so proud of its standing as the fourth-best interstellar exploration company, it’ll make you shudder to think of how bad the fifth-best must be. Once your feet touch the planet’s surface, you’ll begin to catalog the flora, fauna, and life located across the various biomes of planet AR-Y 26 to determine if it’s fit for human habitation, what with the whole climate change thing ruining Earth. Journey to the Savage Planet excels when it comes to the assortment of tools and equipment you can gradually craft and use to reach every nook and cranny of the planet’s surface. The Smurfs: Mission Vileaf

You’re immediately free to explore as you see fit, but it doesn’t take long to discover plenty of inaccessible areas. As such, much of the game is spent scanning the flora and fauna to reveal whether they have gameplay benefits or are just there to contribute to the planet’s vibrant and colorful aesthetic. Some plants may contain seeds that restore your health or produce projectile explosives, while most of the planet’s hodgepodge glossary of alien critters are filled with resources you can gather if you’re heartless enough to put a laser blast between their eyes. Gathering these resources and locating items that can be reverse-engineered using your ship’s 3D printer allows you to craft equipment like grappling hooks, double-jump upgrades for your jetpack, and other tools that make traversal and deeper exploration possible. The whole game latches onto this palpable sense of momentum, as each new upgrade opens up more of the planet for you to probe. Your feet may be firmly planted on the ground in its opening stages, but by the end of the 10-hour adventure you’ll be gliding across natural ziplines hundreds of feet in the air, propelling across perilous chasms with a triple jump, and using a powerful ground pound to unearth new passages. Journey to the Savage Planet adopts the classic Metroidvania formula and executes it wonderfully, presenting you with an ever-growing arsenal of tools that are satisfying to use and feed into the game’s inherent focus on exploration. Of course, the other side of this equation is the planet itself, which is well worth turning inside out. AR-Y 26 is split into three distinct biomes. Each one is moderately sized, resulting in the planet’s scale feeling manageable and allowing you to explore freely without fear of getting lost. When presented with multiple paths.

Explore and catalog the flora and fauna.

It’s easy to choose one over the other because you know getting back to that initial fork in the road is going to be relatively easy. This encourages you to poke your nose in every crevice, travel to every far-away cave, and check behind every waterfall. You’re often rewarded for doing so, with extra resources or important upgrade items hidden throughout the planet–not to mention the visual treats that are on offer in each disparate biome, whether you’re navigating through the craggy icy caves and glaciers your ship landed on, walking amongst the overgrown pink and turquoise mushrooms of the Fungi of Si’ned VII, or jumping between the floating islands of The Elevated Realm. Journey to the Savage Planet isn’t a completely leisurely tour, though. Your first order of business is to develop a futuristic blaster pistol, but combat is a means to an end rather than a major part of the game, and it ends up being a drag. While most of the planet’s creatures are docile, there are outliers that become hostile as soon as they spot you. Defeating these aggressive predators involves a rinse and repeat pattern whereby you use a nifty sidestep or jump to avoid an attack before following up by shooting one or multiple weak points. There are only slight deviations on this back-and-forth that require you to lob an explosive or poison cloud at the enemy before you can pepper its weak spot. The pistol never feels quite accurate enough for the job, especially because you’re usually being asked to hit small targets, and each of the combat’s faults comes to a head during the game’s closing moments as you’re thrown into one fight after another before facing off against the final boss. Anno 1404 – History Edition

You can play the whole game cooperatively with a friend, which does make combat slightly more bearable, but co-op doesn’t alter the moment-to-moment gameplay in any significant way. Conflicts are easier with two people, sure, but there’s nothing about the co-op experience that’s intrinsically built for more than a single player. You can explore the planet together or opt to split up and cover different ground, but that’s about it. I spot a rotund, featherless, and mostly harmless Pufferbird minding its own business in a cave near my crashed spaceship. My ship’s AI helpfully points out that the bird contains resources I need, and the on-screen hint urges me to try a melee attack. I hit the indicated button, and slam the big-eyed creature with an unexpectedly savage backhand. It explodes into a puddle of neon green goo, covering the ground, walls, and my hands with slime. Journey to the Savage Planet drops me onto an uncharted planet, unprepared and uninformed, with the goal of determining if the planet is safe for human habitation or corporate exploitation. It would also be nice, for me, personally, if I’m able to refuel my ship so I can return home. My boss and the ship’s AI don’t seem too concerned with that secondary objective. I’m little more than an expendable office drone — and I mean that literally. My ship’s AI happily 3D-prints a fresh copy of me every time I die, and sends me right back out into the field. If I stumble across my corpse on a subsequent trip, I get a prompt to “shamefully bury my body.” I’m just doing my job, though I don’t really have a choice. Kindred Aerospace (“the fourth best interstellar exploration company!”) is constantly reminding me of my burden with mandatory email surveys, increasingly manic video messages from CEO Martin Tweed.

No Expense Spared.

And of course that aforementioned fact that they sent me into space without enough fuel to get home, or even land safely. I didn’t crash on this planet because I failed somehow; I crashed because it saved my company a few dollars in fuel costs. I wander around the planet’s colorful surface, cataloguing the local flora and fauna and collecting resources by slapping and blasting aliens to death. Back on Earth, my boss watches my findings roll in, and modifies my mission accordingly. What starts as a quick survey mission quickly becomes a planet-spanning quest to bring him back a powerful artifact. I have the option to ignore him, of course. All I really need to do is refuel my ship and fly home. I’m warned that I’ll be ravaged on social media if I do, however, and this threat is followed up by an ending that’s — well, let’s just say it’s unsatisfying if I decide to go through with it anyway. Escape is an option, but I have to keep working for the man in the game if I want to keep playing the game in real life. The existential void of late capitalism isn’t new thematic ground for games these days, but that hasn’t prevented Journey to the Savage Planet’s creators from finding new angles from which to stare into the abyss. The exploding ugly-cute alien creatures, the interstitial commercials, my AI overseer, or even just the way my character flails his arm around for a slap attack all plant a smile on my face throughout the 15 hours or so it takes me to complete the game.

Through this journey, I use plants, rock formations, and the guts of local animals to upgrade myself from hapless Pufferbird slapper to menacing resource harvester. I get an exhaust-spewing jetpack, an exceptionally lethal pistol, and a Proton Tether that will remind folks of Link’s Hookshot. Navigation and exploration are familiar and comfortable, and I’m soon running, leaping, and climbing across the surface of the planet from objective to objective. If I wander a little off the main path, I discover secrets, platforming puzzles, and extra resources. I can’t reach them all at first, but each area is dense enough with optional challenges that I rarely feel barricaded down the obvious main path. The self-consciously bright and cheery criticism of capitalism and worker exploitation might have bogged down a lesser game, but the feeling of simply playing around in the planet’s untamed environments is itself a joy. Even while it confronts me with email reminders about my current crippling debt, the game never forgets to be fun first. The act of doing my job doesn’t have to be grim, even if the job itself doesn’t offer much hope for the future. Which may make Journey to the Savage Planet one of the more effectively absurd games in recent memory. From my funhouse-mirror caricature of a CEO to the gentle arc of a punted space chicken disappearing over the horizon, it always strikes the right balance of funny, fun, and cautionary. It never stops to dwell on its existential undercurrents, but it doesn’t gloss over them either.

The game doesn’t shy away from its cautionary parable of environmental exploitation and corporate greed, and it doesn’t relegate it to window dressing. Every new story beat I uncover either highlights or echoes my CEO’s self-serving shortsightedness. I find my moments of escapist joy, but the game never quite lets me forget that my goal here is one of exploitation. The set dressing all hammers home the issue of colonialism: I am here to get what I can out of the environment and whatever life I find, all to raise my employer’s stock price a few cents. I may be an invading force of one, but my actions serve something more explicitly nefarious. The resulting tone is somewhere between The Martian Chronicles and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I’m not, from my perspective on the ground, here to sway the tides of history; I’m here to file my paperwork, pick up my paycheck, and pay my bills. I might get better toys along the way, but I’m always just this guy who’s working to survive, getting yelled at by his boss, eking out moments of pleasure in the role where and when I can. And that’s what makes Journey to the Savage Planet’s subtext so unsettling, and the game an unexpected autopsy of the open-world formula. This is one of hundreds of games that ask us to kill and conquer, but never question our actions. The story tells us we’re here to have fun, and supposedly save the world.Dwerve

Add-ons (DLC): Journey to the Savage Planet Hot Garbage