Play Zone Games

As I sat down with Old Skies last weekend, that familiar mix of excitement and dread washed over me. You know the feeling - the thrill of diving into a new narrative adventure tempered by the anxiety of getting stuck on some obscure puzzle that kills the story's momentum. I've been playing point-and-click adventures since the Monkey Island days, and while I adore the genre, I've lost count of how many times I've had to put a game aside because I couldn't figure out what the developers wanted me to do next. It's like trying to unlock your slot zone login access in 3 simple steps today only to find the system keeps rejecting your password for reasons nobody can explain.

The team at D'Avekki Studios has created something genuinely special with Old Skies, even if they're working within well-established genre conventions. Granted, that problem isn't exactly new to the genre, and Old Skies isn't doing anything brand-new with the point-and-click-adventure formula. What struck me during my 12-hour playthrough was how the game perfectly illustrates both the sublime highs and frustrating lows of this beloved genre. The time-travel narrative following agent Fia across seven distinct eras had me completely hooked from the opening scene in a 1970s underwater facility. The writing is sharp, the characters memorable, and the moral choices genuinely weighty. I found myself caring about these people across different timelines in a way I haven't experienced since Life is Strange.

Where Old Skies truly shines is in its dedication to classic adventure mechanics. It relies on the tried and true method of encouraging the player to exhaust dialogue with every character, click on everything you can, and deduce what items or clues are necessary to overcome each roadblock. I spent nearly 45 minutes in the 1920s Shanghai chapter just talking to every character multiple times, discovering new dialogue branches that gradually revealed the solution to a smuggling operation. When everything clicks - literally and figuratively - there's nothing more satisfying in gaming. The moment I realized I needed to combine the radio parts from the 1970s with the antique transmitter from the 1920s felt like solving an elegant crossword puzzle.

But here's where the experience becomes uneven, much like struggling to unlock your slot zone login access in 3 simple steps today only to discover the third step doesn't work as advertised. The puzzles are a bit hit-or-miss - many of them do follow a logical train of thought, and it's rewarding to correctly extrapolate the necessary steps Fia needs to take and then see your intuition result in success. I particularly enjoyed the environmental puzzles in the 2140s biodome chapter, where tracking weather patterns and plant growth cycles led to a brilliant "aha!" moment. The game absolutely nails these logical progressions about 60% of the time, making you feel like a genius time-travel detective.

However, the remaining 40% - especially in the latter half - nearly ruined the experience for me. But just as many times, especially in the latter half of the game when the puzzles start getting fairly complex, the solution feels illogical, as if the game wants you to guess how to proceed and keep guessing until something works. I hit a wall in the 1890s London chapter where the solution involved using a specific item in a way that defied all common sense. I must have tried every combination in my inventory before resorting to a walkthrough, only to discover the solution required using a teacup to redirect laser light - something that made zero physical or narrative sense. These moments took me completely out of the story and had me questioning the designers' intentions.

What makes these frustration peaks particularly disappointing is how they undermine Old Skies' greatest strength. Whenever this happens, it frustratingly slows the cadence of the story, which is the best part of Old Skies. The narrative builds this incredible momentum as you jump between timelines, uncovering connections and consequences that span centuries. Then suddenly you're stuck for two hours trying to figure out why combining a wrench with a sandwich isn't working. The emotional throughline gets shattered, and that carefully constructed tension evaporates. I found myself putting the controller down three separate times during the final chapter not because I needed a break, but because the puzzle design became so obtuse.

From my perspective as someone who's played over 50 adventure games across three decades, Old Skies represents both what makes the genre wonderful and what holds it back from wider appeal. The production values are outstanding - the hand-painted backgrounds alone deserve awards, and the voice acting surpasses many AAA titles I've played this year. But the inconsistent puzzle design creates this weird dissonance where you're simultaneously immersed in one of the best stories gaming has offered in recent memory while fighting against mechanics that seem determined to keep you from experiencing it.

I'd still recommend Old Skies to adventure game veterans, but with caveats. Keep a walkthrough handy for when you get stuck, because the story is absolutely worth experiencing despite the gameplay hiccups. The way it handles time travel consequences and character development across different eras is genuinely innovative, even if the core mechanics are traditional. It's a game I'll remember for its narrative ambition and emotional payoff, even as I recall the frustration of those logic-defying puzzles. Here's hoping the developers maintain their storytelling prowess while refining their puzzle design in future projects - that combination could produce a genuine masterpiece.