How about playing yourself: After spending a week cleaning up my old family home, I cleaned up a week of speedrunning the life and death of several loved ones by combing the wooden boxes of school papers, diaries and letters. Cleaning liquids and applying hands, blacking them with dust in the attic, ruined nostrils in the floorboards of the bedroom as a child, a brain plagued by faded happiness and pain, sits in an empty kitchen and plays horror with High Luke, a space tabletopper with four occult investigators washing away a large family.
Investigators don’t have to worry about daily spiritual damage, such as punching suckers at ancient photographs while flying around prehistoric tax returns. Most of the time, they need to worry about screaming, shining liquids, and cursed rings. However, each arrives at High Luke Manor and arrives in the past to unpack along with the home’s mechanisms. This is a life story that can be done even more by completing optional side quests. And while this premise is fantastic, I think the emotional arc of horror on High Luke corresponds to that of clearing out of many family homes.
It starts with something mysterious, enveloping and unforgettable, but the room with vacant possibilities sinks in wonder and suffering. The task becomes practical and re-realizes practical as it enhances the grip of geometry where basic linearity of this chapter-based troll is not possible. By the fourth time I had stitched together the summoning circles and thrust them into the veil, but I was ready to finish it. And in the game.
Some Delayed Nuts and Bolts: The Horror at Highrook is a real-time worker placement RPG with a Victorian fantasy setting inspired by Poe and Lovecraft. The first draw is at home, with a slice of a mason’s corpse mercilessly damaging orange, purple and blue during the day. Each room is themed on upgradeable character attributes. The machine room is for devices, is “soul and seasonal clockwork,” and the seller is “things in the shadows, those hidden in the heart.” Each room also includes characters and activity slots. It is used to perform tasks ranging from unzipping the Graven Cartouche to manipulating the gramophone player. These tasks are always a combination act. It comes with a pair card that unlocks the pair card, another crispy lore.
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All four characters have different attribute points, but there are overlapping. Dr. Kariger’s spell tricks allow her to perform rituals in the chapel. Meanwhile, Atticus Hawk’s knowledge of the path gives him the power to snare the rabbits of obstacles, allowing him to raise a trinket or maybe two. Each task requires a certain number of attribute points. If the characters are not sufficient, you can place up to two support cards in the same room to increase the number. These support cards include chemical formulas, enigmatic toys, and sheets of magical glasses. Some are consumed during use, others are upgraded using cleaned materials when unlocking the forging. Meanwhile, characters level up by taking lessons in the school room.
Character and item upgrades are carefully synced with chapter-based stories. This is the main way that Highlukes are separated from cultist simulators. This is not a card-related open-ended muddy, but rather a step-by-step unlocking matrix that spills through quantum substructures, but follows a single core story. The relative focus makes the grind needed to get or re-acquire a particular card more prominent – and for me this drags the game.
Each task has a completion time and sets the character to set up in different aspects of the same purpose, such as the sense of rhythm – half gacha reward loop and half drip groove. Also, time passes beyond the mansion and in a shadowy world. There are regular letters and compartments from various mysterious factions and kanas, and the official gazette detailing the broader effects of occult delving.
Each character sheds light on the various Echelons in the setting with scarce dialogue and occasional pop-up journal entries. Atticus is an orphan from the dock. He takes a dim view of Vitali, a snowy secretary scholar in the group who views Atticus as a mean, low-producing idiot. Your mechanic Aster disapproves Vitali’s enthusiasm for the occult, but there is a hidden relative between her MEC(H) materialism and Vitali’s understanding of circular dimensions that overlay like clockwork. Kaliger is my favorite, my favorite, bold and melancholy person motivated by his inability to prevent the plague.
Everything has a survival sim touch. Each investigator has a measure of hunger, fatigue, injury and sanity that must be restocked regularly. These material strains intensify as the story progresses, but feeding and resting the Gothic Ghostbusters gang is not a breaking-pace format, but a slight incentive to be efficient in the absence of time limits for the entire story. Worse, it’s a nuisance room, a card storage tray with slow, rotten consumables. Thankfully, you can reduce the demands of survival simulation bits in your settings.
The element of self-sufficiency usefully contrasts the cosmicly frightening discoveries. For example, the fact that you can summon a restless spirit using the same, common combination mechanism for brewing Moonshine can be satisfactory and eerie. The suggestion is that every humble object has otherworldly frequencies or extensions, and can be achieved through simple yet crafty arithmetic. I like the… unclassical stuff in the game. This is the depth at which a card is crystallized in some way within the 2D play space when converting it to a card.
But I’m a bit mixed in with the writing. The irony of Lovecraft is that he is as mysterious as the often thrown bricks for all his connections to the horrific, violent, forbidden lore that he is on the brink of understanding. Many Lovecraft stories are Palpie Popcorn Chewers, who have been moving quite a bit on spaghetti monsters from the start, then flashbacks to deciphering the horrifying designs found in a design box of pasta. They get engrossed by density. This is what we now call “the building of the world” rather than clever. Apart from confronting and criticizing the prejudices that inform his Opus, I think many better “Lovecraft” sentences resist the tendency to hum it essentially, and fear remains unreadable or immaterial, allowing cyclopian descriptions to be loosely fragmented into network indications.
I haven’t read enough Poe to comment on how High Luke’s horror reacts to his. It goes beyond noticing the unstable appearance of Raven Cards (you can scream from room to room to aid in a specific ritual). But I think this game makes us the most subtle Lovecraftian Fiction. Sometimes the writing is comfortable, concise and faye. For example, I love the gift of a bee card that shows “ado to the simple alchemy of everyday life.” It makes me think when I clarify the small, inspiring discoveries I made around my home. There is nothing inside the link inside the envelope with the “creation” written on it, the doorknob that could not match the door, a spare link from the lost watch chain, and the envelope link labeled “Open Me Ed!!!”
However, the larger plot beats in the game are not appealing. Partly because the characters are very rattled and have the motives of a mutilated melodrama, and in part because the world construction is so prominent. Certainly, most chapters are about construction. Each tends to involve searching for summoning circles or other artifact pieces. This must be reassembled into a 9-square grid composer. Once done, you will deploy this configuration to break the portal and encounter inhumane beings. They talk to you like characters. Not from the other side, not from the chaos of Abyssocals, but with some colorful transformations, peering into the clouds of glyphs. You are dealt with descriptions of some mysterious areas, which may be fun and imaginative words, but at all…additives. Another world is simply another world. Sometimes, high-luke horror casts a spell, sometimes it just casts a spell.
And sometimes, it’s just a number. The game’s combination logic is far more interesting when it comes to the intertwining of plot and upgrades. Typically, you start each chapter without the attribute points required to discover or apply the following collection of Eldritch McGuffins. Upgrading a character and its tools often involves grasping a new set of card alchemy, but there is the element of repeating what you know. Brave liquids and sparkling fragments for forging. Condensed insights for more inspiring books and school rooms. The more you ask the game to pass through movement, the more you realize how it keeps you on track, and stops progressing too much with each chapter. Many cards have a limit to the number of cards you can draw. Certain useful tools collapse after serving their purpose in the plot.
Diversity is primarily created by threats. Recreating the mansion’s tragedy and the grand ambitions and helpless curiosity that have led to downfall, he must deal with the Medler from that point onward. Spooks and Anomalies own activity slots, block progress, and injure nearby characters or go crazy. However, the process of dealing with them is roughly the same as making soup in the kitchen. It’s roughly the same as matching character and support card stats to the numbers on the monster’s collar. Again, I like how the same card mechanic serves mental or temporary purposes, but there are definitely moments when this leads to Basos rather than fear.
Horror on High Luke will please you if you like cultist simulators but find it too vague, or if you don’t want to play it in light of allegations about its creator. If you like cultist simulators and want a relatively elusive bottomlessness, it will make you uncomfortable. If you are keen on the fear of the universe, it may just satisfy your needs, and don’t mind a slightly flavorful drought.
Given the passionate situation I started playing it, I’m so glad that I’m getting cool in the game. If it was some horrifying psychological journey with all sorts of unlikely combos for Delifer, I think I’d have to play it in the burst rather than stuffing it into the first three days of this week. It certainly touched some exposed nerves in my house clear out, but in the end I unconsciously pound my post-it notes on the box, and reminded me of a day or two of my closing days when I went from room to room with a small meltdown about the shampoo bottle.