Boxxle: A lifelong obsession that needn't be

 As I’m struggling on Boxxle’s 59^th puzzle (out of 100), the time is ripe to take a break from the game — and write a post while I’m at it!

 

Boxxle came to Europe in 1990; it was part of the very first batch of games released alongside the shiny, brand-new Game Boy, and I remember seeing some screen captures in paper ads. Just like basically any screen capture from early Game Boy titles, these nuggets of gameplay became deeply embedded in my young gamer’s mind, and haunted me for decades to come. 

 

 

The thing is: despite being eager to play that game at the time, I never managed to get my paws on it — until one month ago, that is. A lack of funds are probably to blame for my not purchasing Boxxle back in 1990, mixed with potential unavailability in local shops. I tried to get my paws on it later, to no avail. This time, lack of funds or unavailability were not to blame; this was entirely my memory’s fault. See, I remembered the game’s name as Boxed instead of Boxxle; and that confusion prevented me from locating copies for years. Only recently did I manage to uncover that mistake and secure a copy, as my drive to play that game suddenly peaked for reasons known by my gaming instinct only.

 

 

You might think that I’m writing an awful lot about my history with that game, and that I’m trying to avoid talking about the gameplay; and you’d be totally right. Boxxle’s gameplay is really not that interesting to write about, and it’s only marginally more interesting to play. Completing a puzzle in Boxxle implies moving boxes around in a precise order; the sequence of events is crucial, as puzzles allow only a limited number of move combinations. There is no ‘eureka’ moment in Boxxle; just careful observation, patient strategizing and endless trial-and-error.

 

That deliberate puzzle-solving is pleasant and soothing in the early stages, but turns frustrating as the game progresses. Puzzles become bigger and more complex around the 40 mark; trial-and-error then turns to a slog, as you have to restart from scratch every time to try every combination you can think of. Boxxle would really benefit from a ‘rewind’ system, which one could activate by using points gained through puzzle completion — à la Free to Play. But alas, these were the early 90’s, and a gamer’s precious time was not valued yet. And believe me when I say Boxxle is HARD. Forget about going the whole 100 in an evening; you will spend days, maybe even weeks, toiling on these puzzles.

 

 

Boxxle’s only saving grace, and the sole reason I managed to go that far, is the convenient possibility to access batches of ten puzzles at once through the Passkey system. Should you be desperately stuck on one puzzle, you can always move on the next, or the one after that, until you’ve polished off the whole set. Interestingly, Boxxle’s gameplay is way too deliberate and complex to induce the famous Tetris effect; on the other hand, it’s also too messy and scattered to induce some out-of-game obsessive strategizing.

 

Long story short: Boxxle is really just a slow, hard, not exactly thrilling puzzle game that I may or may not finish over time. I’m glad I could play it at last, though; not only could I scratch an itch from a distant past, but I had some genuine moments of fun with some puzzles. Until my next pick, keep doing your think and take care, dear fellow gamers!

 

Blacksmith of the Sand Kingdom: A digest

 

We’re dealing with an Atelier-lite Kemco RPG, which you can get physical courtesy of Limited Run Games. Now, unlike other LRG releases of Kemco stuff, BotSK comes alone on its cartridge; this means that you have to fork out 40 bucks or more to get your paws on a Kemco budget RPG. I freakin’ love Kemco budget RPGs, and I’m sure I’m not the only one; still, a less-than-hardcore collector may balk at the thought of investing that much in such a game. That’s where I step in: by kindly telling you what to expect (or not) from BotSK, I’ll help you decide if it’s worth a purchase. Don’t thank me, I’m kind like that! ^^

 

 

Secure Blacksmith of the Sand Kingdom if:

 

— You dig old-school RPG tropes. Palette swaps from the second dungeon to the last? Check! Gear progression that goes from iron pieces of kit to orichalcum ones, without forgetting gold and good ole mithril? Check! Vertiginous difficulty spikes at the beginning of each dungeon? Check! 

 

 

— You really love grinding. Like, really freaking love it. Believe me when I say that despite the word ‘blacksmith’ in the title, that game is 75% fighting.

 

— You enjoy repetitive gameplay. BotSK features two main gameplay loops: the in-game day loop and the dungeon loop. The former is bound to repeat itself an uncanny number of times, and way too much to count at any rate; as for the latter, you’ll have to clear it ten times in a row if you wanna finish the game. 

 

 

— You like navigating menus — or at least don’t mind it too much. A significant part of BotSK’s gameplay involves going back and forth between somewhat arid-looking menus. When I say “significant”, I really truly mean that you cannot dispense with it, and that it will happen much more often, and for longer, than you’d wish.   

 

 

Steer clear of Blacksmith of the Sand Kingdom if:

 

— You want some solid and complex crafting. There is not a shred of strategizing, talent or even depth involved in BotSK’s brand of crafting. You cannot fail whatsoever, and arcane features such as item quality and traits are completely absent. Heck, you’re not even treated to close-ups of the many items you forge! Also, forget about grids: blacksmithing is just a matter of navigating menus and pressing the A button. Were you maybe expecting a QTA or a minigame of sorts in the forge? No such luck baby, we’re dealing with a Kemco RPG! 

 

 

— You want a solid story. Or a story, full stop. Narrative is at its barest here — so much so that Asdivine Hearts feels like a full-blown epic in comparison. The ending is kinda nice; but it’s certainly not worth toiling through 35 hours of grinding, dungeon crawling and menu navigating. 

 

 

— You want fancy graphics and imaginative dungeon layouts. BotSK’s drably coloured and poorly designed dungeons are really just an excuse to forage and fight; in fact, I’m pretty sure Rideon Inc. would have implemented menu-based foraging and fighting, if not for the fact that the whole game would have become a giant menu navigation fest in the process. I’m pretty tolerant towards shitty dungeon design; but even I have to admit that BotSK’s dungeons kinda suck. 

 

 

— You want a quick ride. Kemco RPGs are short as a rule, and you’d be forgiven for assuming that polishing off BotSK will a swift affair; but as it turns out, that particular Kemco RPG is on the long-winded side. I didn’t want to believe internet wisdom, which claimed that 30 to 40 hours were required for a full run; but after spending a whopping 35 hours on my own run, I can safely tell you that 30 hours is a minimum indeed. 

 

 

Well, that covers it! In a nutshell: Blacksmith of the Sand Kingdom is a simple and forgiving, if somewhat repetitive, take on the Atelier formula. Just like every Kemco RPG, it’s perfect to scratch a retro itch and provide some stress-free gameplay. Until next time, take care and keep doing your thing, dear fellow gamers!