Rogue Legacy

What We Leave Behind

The randomized, multi-generational adventure Rogue Legacy gives us life without finality.

By John Teti • July 8, 2013

I want to change the world. Don’t you? It’s this dark joke of humanity. We’re wired to dream big, yet our toolset is so small. Each person gets—if they’re lucky—a bag of flesh and a reasonably functional brain. But we get by pretty well with those, all things considered. What really hurts us is the shelf-life issue. The flesh rots, the brain degrades, and we end. We hate that. So we invented a clever loophole: the “legacy.” Maybe if each of us is part of something greater that spans generations, then each life will feel less small. With a legacy, we don’t have to change the world all in one go, as long as we generate some momentum in the right direction. This is what we tell ourselves. It’s a brilliant delusion, and Rogue Legacy explores the messy consequences of it.

You begin the game as a cheery, goose-stepping warrior who seeks to tame a sprawling castle. The castle is populated with countless intruders who mean you harm, like wizards who impale you with spires of earth and gigantic, diseased eyeballs that shower you with caustic sputum. All this unpleasantness is too much for your puny fighter, so before long, you succumb to the onslaught.

Rogue Legacy

Lucky for you, before you died, you were smart enough to produce three offspring. Once the castle lays you low, the next step is to choose which member of the next generation will perpetuate your legacy. Each potential heir has their own baseline set of sword-swinging and spell-casting skills, and thanks to upper-class inbreeding, the kids also carry a randomized rainbow of genetic conditions and personality quirks—some positive, some negative, and some inconsequential. If you elect to have a near-sighted child carry on your name, for instance, the edges of the screen will blur the next time you take on the castle. There are dozens of other “traits” (hypochondria, coprolalia, dextrocardia…), each of which serves as its own joke once you figure out its effect. I don’t want to step on those punchlines here, but I’ll say this: Vertigo is hell.

The ancestral cycle of adventure, death, and rebirth repeats until you finally defeat the masters of the castle, which will likely require more than a hundred generations. That may sound like tedium, but Rogue Legacy staves off boredom with two signature elements of design. First, the makeup of the castle is randomized every time you play. This approach is what defines the “roguelike” genre of games—the developers don’t design levels so much as they design a system that generates levels—so now you know where the first part of the title comes from.

Rogue Legacy

Then there’s the matter of the legacy, in the form of the gold you collect as you fight. After death, you pass this gold on to your heir, so when the next generation’s hero bursts onto the scene, your first task is to spend that loot. Charon, lord of the underworld, guards the castle gate and charges a usurious 100-percent estate tax. The message: Use it or lose it. You can spend your cash to train yourself and improve your battle prowess, or to buy new equipment and spells. You can even shell out hefty sums to diversify the gene pool, allowing new classes of heroes with exotic abilities to be born. Who wouldn’t want a ninja in their family tree?

The legacy system allows progress. Each new expenditure burnishes your family line, making the next hero a little better equipped to take on the horrors beyond the gate. With time, the foes in the grueling heights of the castle tower become manageable, and fearsome bosses become less so. The difficulty is well-tuned, one of the subtler strokes of genius in Rogue Legacy. The castle doesn’t give up its secrets easily, but as you improve your heroes, it does yield enough that there are always new surprises to discover—surprises like a smart-mouthed carnival clown and a curse that imbues you with the spirit of Sonic The Hedgehog.

One recent point of comparison for Rogue Legacy is The Binding Of Isaac, another heavily randomized game that takes a more traditional roguelike approach: When you die, you essentially start over from scratch the next time. There is no legacy-building in Isaac. You cannot pass along a cache of cash to your progeny. The philosophical difference between the two games is the difference between a life lived for its own sake and a life that is part of a larger story.

Rogue Legacy

In practice, that difference is profound. When I find my back against the wall in Isaac—which is even more challenging than Rogue Legacy—I don’t lose my will to fight. Instead, I summon a more tenacious level of fight. Some of my most memorable times with the game have come when I clawed my way back from death’s door to conquer the depths of the Isaac inferno.

Rogue Legacy doesn’t quite inspire that same burning desire, because its death doesn’t feel like true death. When my health is at a low ebb in some forlorn corner of Legacy’s castle, my thoughts turn to the next generation. I can’t accomplish greatness in this life, I reason, but perhaps I can scrounge enough gold to give a solid head start to the next family scion. By resigning myself to mediocrity in the short term, I’m simply taking a different path to greatness. The ruthless nature of Isaac induces heroism; the enduring lineage of Legacy produces heroes.

I’ve been married for eight years, so the “Kids?” talk comes up on a regular basis. Thus far, the answer is “Not yet.” We have our reasons. One of mine is that I’m afraid of becoming the dad who, like my underachieving Legacy dude, kicks the can down the road. We’ve all seen people lose their edge once they have kids—it certainly doesn’t happen to everyone, but it happens. I hear some old college friend smile and talk about how he considers fatherhood his “No. 1 job,” and he might as well have zombie flesh peeling off his skull for how much that spooks me. “You’re barely 30 years old,” I think as I stave off a premature midlife crisis, “and you’re handing the ball off already?”

Rogue Legacy

Yet often in Rogue Legacy, handing the ball off isn’t just the smart play, it’s the most enjoyable play. It’s fun to putter around Castle Hamson secure in the knowledge that Lady Teti XXXVI will have her own chance to leave a mark in this world. That’s the tradeoff of a legacy. You can feel like a link in a chain, but on the other hand, you live a life that’s never entirely without hope or joy.

That’s not to suggest that Rogue Legacy is a compromised game, just that its dynastic trappings are complex and truthful. It may not be quite the landmark game that Isaac was—Legacy’s ghosts ’n’ goblins aesthetic is cute and well-rendered but still too generic—yet it provides an important counterpoint to Isaac with a structure that’s superficially similar. When we write the narratives of our own lives, one natural inclination is to view it as a story with a concrete beginning and end. Legacy is a compelling exploration of what happens when we add a “To Be Continued…” after the final act.

Rogue Legacy
Developer: Cellar Door Games
Publisher: Cellar Door Games
Platform: PC
Price: $15

Share this with your friends and enemies

Write a scintillating comment

54 Responses to “What We Leave Behind”

  1. Spacemonkey Mafia says:

       Being a father, I do often joke that since my primary biological imperative has been fulfilled, I may as well walk into the ocean.  I should wait, I guess, at least until my child no longer chooses to get her head stuck in the banister.
       But nothing brought the idea of my own mortality into sharper focus than my participation in creating the person who, if the world is just (no promises), will bury me.
       And while I am too petty and too cynical to ever exclaim fatherhood as my “number one job” that doesn’t mean I don’t try and behave as though it is whenever I am with my child.
       Specifically for two reasons.  The first being that we did bring her into this world, we do have some moral imperative for preparing her for the kaleidoscope of contradictory shittiness and confusion endemic to this broken world.  The second being, and this is the great hope of every parent -so succinctly expressed in this game- that our children will find a solution to the seemingly terminal puzzle of our own destructive compulsions that has alluded us and our parents and their parents before them.
       If that idea can be expressed along with the inclusion of some Magic Sword-stlye side-scrolling fantasy power-ups, I’m all in.

       As a completely unnecessary post-script;  I’m writing this out and I hear my kid stir in her bed.  I go in her room where she half-asleep moans she’s thirsty.  I bring her some fresh water which she drinks, then immediately turns over to fall asleep.
       “I love you”.  I tell her.
       “I love you too…” She slurs back, already asleep.
       That is the fundamental contradiction of parenthood.  You prepare them as best you can for the dungeon you never, ever want the dear ones to enter.

    • ProfFarnsworth says:

      With Cubert sleeping soundly on my chest, and me looking at the crapload of work I need to get done in order to move to graduate school.  I completely agree with you @Spacemonkey_Mafia:disqus .  I also think that being a parent never really ends someones life, (if they let it), it can be a definite change in direction.  My behavior has certainly changed due to my having Cubert, especially since he was so little and premature.

      • NakedSnake says:

        For myself, I feel like having your first child actually marks a certain kind of beginning for your life. Like, I actually have started imagining myself from my child’s perspective, and I think of how much my own parents evolved and changed over the course of my growing up (I may not have realized it at the time). Once you have a kid, you’re not just screwing around anymore. Everything is For Real. To use the metaphor from the article, we’re in Binding of Isaac territory now. Everything that came beforehand just feels like practice.

        • DrFlimFlam says:

          It’s funny to see your kid start school. In media everyone is always in school, and for a long time I didn’t consider myself out of school so much as a few years removed, but now I’m just like my own parents, never to return, and I’m starting to see myself as my child would see me, and less as my own person.

          What’s even more interesting is seeing your own behaviors in that child, and understanding them in ways you felt you were never understood yourself.

    • Aurora Boreanaz says:

      I’m a pretty big cynic myself, but I’m still leaning toward the “parenting is my number one job” statement now.  Every new thing that Baby Boreanaz learns is totally amazing.  She’s only six months old as of Tuesday, but just this week she has:

      Giggled harder than she ever has because our two dogs were play-fighting in front of her.

      Turned around on my lap and given me a hug on her own for the first time.

      Started mimicking mouth movements for words like “mama” and “dada”, without the sounds except by accident.

      It’s both the most exciting thing and the most terrifying for me to raise a child, especially a girl.  I want her to be able to do everything she wants, and protect her from all the bad, hurtful and manipulative influences in the world, and it scares me that I might not be up to the task.

      • Girard says:

        Unlike Teti’s sentiment here, I definitely find the idea of parenting as a “number one job” admirable rather than pitiful, but like Teti I do find that reality of it somewhat terrifying.

        I only had one parent play a significant role in my life, and parenting was without question her #1 job. Virtually everything she did when we were growing up was for my brother and I, and she pretty much divested herself for us, enduring a great deal of sacrifice and hardship for our sake. (My other parent was basically a moustache who lived across the ocean where he could skimp on child support with impunity despite making way more than my mom, and who flew over every 2 or 3 years to take us to the zoo and play Risk for a weekend).

        The sheer amount of love and selflessness she exhibited and continues to exhibit is staggering and humbling and impressive and has secured her place in my adult mind in the pantheon of heroic figures I most try to model my life upon. But it also sets an extremely high bar for me if I ever become a parent. Admittedly (hopefully) I wouldn’t be going it alone the way my mom had to, but even so I can’t help but feel I’d have a monomaniacal impulse to devote everything to the cause of my kid, a level (or type) of self-sacrifice I’m not super interested in (also, the world’s got way more than enough people in it anyway, and I’d feel guilty contributing to the overpopulation of the planet unless I was 110% gung-ho about the whole prospect).

        I much prefer teaching. I have a nicely demarcated 8 hours when my kids are without question the first thing on my mind, and when every fiber of my being is turned toward them and their lives and their needs, but then I can clock out at 5 and focus on Girard stuff (ostensibly, at least, though sometimes I find myself prepping, planning and thinking when I’m off the clock…).

        • DrFlimFlam says:

          It’s kind of crazy how much parenting is giving endlessly, but you also realize how much as a kid a good parent gave for you.

          Local Natives’ “Colombia” is a fantastic song about that realization.

        • John Teti says:

          Thank you for sharing that, and thank for @Spacemonkey_Mafia:disqus for his nice reply, too. You guys really got where I was coming from.

          Your mom is an exemplar of mom-ness. My mom was totally dedicated to raising her kids, too, in a different situation. I admire people who consider raising children to be their highest calling. What freaks me out about the “No. 1 Job” thing is this notion that once you have kids, any other aspirations you might have had are necessarily subjugated to the kids. That strikes me as a sad vision of parenthood.

          My dad was caring, attentive, and present—he worked from home most days. Yet I could never imagine him saying that parenting was the job he placed above all others, and I wouldn’t have wanted him to. I wanted him to create and achieve great things. And I would have felt a ton of pressure if I were supposed to be his crowning achievement. I wanted to be his kid, not his job—I wanted to exist in a separate sphere.

          A lot of this is about language and about people finding a way to express the consuming excitement and wonder of being a new parent. When I talk to friends who have been parents for a while, the “No. 1 job” sentiment—or whatever you want to call it—tends to have faded as the kids retain their specialness but also assume a place in the larger firmament of a person’s life. I admit I don’t know you personally, but I bet you would find that balance, and I bet I would, too. Doesn’t make the fear any less real for us, though, and Rogue Legacy teases out some of the roots of that fear.

        • NakedSnake says:

          Even as a parent who currently spends 50% of my waking hours child rearing (or supervising), I find the level of devotion you describe here intimidating, Girard. Your mother must be an incredible woman. But if you do ever decide to have kids, I would say that it isn’t necessary to mentally re-orient your life around theirs. Kids don’t necessarily expect 100% devotion; you can do your own tasks and they want to help with that or do that too. What I am saying is, you can be utterly devoted to them but still do your own things along the way. The parenting will happen anyways. The big difference I would point to as having changed since having kids is that everything is now compromised. There’s no such thing as doing one thing 100%. But as I was just telling my wife, by way of zen koan, “life is all about having fun at the home depot.”

          Also, @JohnTeti:disqus I love that a description of an action roguelike has turned into a wide-ranging conversation about parenting. Gameological!

      • DrFlimFlam says:

        Congrats on the first six months. It’s a great journey and after six months it really just keeps getting better.

        When speaking of manipulative things, I never thought about how insidious TV was until we didn’t have it for almost two years. It was all Netflix and home video, and when we did get TV again I realized how much the barbarians are at the gate and want in to your home any which way they can.

        • Aurora Boreanaz says:

          Yeah, my wife and I gave up cable as soon as we moved in together, haven’t had it for six years.  Netflix and purchased DVD/Blu-Rays work pretty well for us.  I do occasionally miss seeing new shows as soon as they air, but have gotten used to waiting.  Plus I see that some new shows are setting up (non-Hulu) deals to be available streaming immediately…Under the Dome is on Amazon Instant, for example.

    • NakedSnake says:

      I run into this problem whenever I see my child having a problem that I can easily fix. On the one hand, the child is frustrated and I can solve that immediately. On the other hand, what does helping them in that case accomplish? It’s kind of like, do you want your hardship now or later?

      • Aurora Boreanaz says:

        You can give a baby a binkie and she’ll suck on it for fifteen minutes or so before dropping it.  You can teach a baby to pick the binkie back up on her own, and she’ll be occupied for at least twice that long before getting upset about something else (such as tipping over on her belly and not being able to crawl effectively yet).

      • DrFlimFlam says:

        One thing that was hard for me to understand is how to teach things to a child, like drawing. Meeting with my son’s preschool teacher, I realized how I was supposed to let my child do something but also ensure he has the tools and basic understanding of how these things work in order to tackle it himself.

      • Girard says:

        That happens a fair bit as a teacher, too. Especially when I was teaching little preschoolers there would be times when it took us ten times as long to, say, get out to the playground because we wanted every kid to work their way into their own coats and hats rather than just line up, arms extended, while we quickly slipped their stuff on.

    • The_Helmaroc_King says:

      “Being a father, I do often joke that… my primary biological imperative has been fulfilled…”

      I’m not a father, but even if I had kids I could probably think of at least three different biological imperatives to live for.

      Then again, it’ll be a long time before I’d even consider kids a possibility, so maybe my imperatives are out of whack.

    • Fyodor Douchetoevsky says:

      Keyboard Genius. Callin’ it now.

    • DrFlimFlam says:

      I thought this was a different game at first, the Namco effort Dragon Valor, which also involved multiple generations. It’s not yet a common concept, but it seems more and more games are interested in the idea of what we leave behind. Like some of the other folks here I too am a father, and not only does it reset your perception of life, but also, as Spacemonkey said, of death as well.

      • Roswulf says:

        Another recent game in this dynastic vein that has yet to be mentioned is Crusader Kings II.

        I love playing an oldened ruler, the grand conquests of youth a distant memory, smashing dissent and shoring up his finances so that my son’s rule can be glorious from the start. Indeed probably my favorite CKII figure was a poor hyper-skilled Scottish Duke, deposed from the kingship at age 10, who spent 70 years as his deposer’s right arm dilligently setting things up for his son to reclaim the crown…only to have his last child of seven die while the 90-ish year-old infirm usurper kept on living. Naturally my Duke went a bit nuts, assassinated half the royal family, and claimed the kingship for himself, with disastrous consequences for the kingdom.

        • Sarapen says:

          The Total Watt games also has the dynasty thing. The random genetic drift can be kind of annoying when you have a war hero with a pederast for an heir. You have to keep replenishing the bloodlines by having talented outsiders adopted or marry into the family.

          Though if you stop and think about it, the whole thing kind of gets eugenic-y when you’re breeding family members to pass down desirable traits.

    • Chum Joely says:

      Parenthood probably is my number-one job in the sense that it’s the most emotionally urgent from day to day: what I do with my kids, TODAY, down to the smallest inflections of speech and behavior, really is helping to set the course for their entire childhoods and future lives. Compared to that, most of my adult interests are a lot more abstract and postponable.

      On the other hand, all that means is that I have to fight harder to make room for the stuff that’s “number one” in the domains of my intellectual or creative interests (linguistics, foreign languages, guitar if I can ever get around to it). Only now, when my younger kid is past age 4, am I starting to get out of full-time “emergency” parenting (you basically can’t leave a kid alone for any length of time, safely and without irritation, until age 5, in my experience) and finding a space for my adult interests. But those interests never went away, they just had to take a back seat for… quite a while.

      Of course, it’s still not too easy to find time for all those high-flying intellectual interests AND for video games. The balance is hard to find.

      • Sarapen says:

        If it makes you feel any better, children learn their speech more from their peers than their parents, that’s why immigrant kids have native accents and teenager talk can be gibberish to people not in that age bracket. So you don’t need to put do much pressure on yourself with raising your kids to talk good.

        • ChicaneryTheYounger says:

          It was gibberish to me when I was in that age bracket. And their music! Oy.

      • Spacemonkey Mafia says:

        It’s been a while.  Took an article on parenthood to bring you out of the woodwork.
           I hope my original post doesn’t sound like I’m minimizing how very much my child means to me.  She isn’t an afterthought or an obligation, she’s my little girl.
           Concerning the number one job line, that’s more of a response to my feelings about the sentimentality around parenthood.  I take it very seriously, but don’t have much patience for the sepia-toned Ann Geddes haze that surrounds the job.
           And while I completely agree that that it has become more difficult to navigate my interests outside of parenting obligations, I think they are still very important.  Being able to pursue illustration and have a good relationship with my wife outside of child-rearing are both helpful to me being a good parent.
           We are fortunate that we have the latitude to do so.

        • Chum Joely says:

          Yeah, I just finished my last “crunch time” at Ubisoft before leaving the video games industry, so I was pretty busy for a while there. I should be around here (and on the GS Steam group) a bit more now.

          Nah, no misunderstandings about your feelings towards your daughter. Kids are fantastic, AND a pain in the ass, AND a precious miracle or whatever, AND an incredible time sink. I’d say it’s definitely a major net positive, but you can’t deny it’s a whole lot of work.

  2. RidleyFGJ says:

    I have no idea what the hell is going on in the previous topic, but I do know that this game is awesome.

    Coolest unexpected feature: coming across portraits featuring screenshots of the developer’s previous projects, both released and aborted. It really helps drive how much of a struggle it was to make this game, as well as feeling really good about the fact that it’s worked out so well for them, given that it hasn’t left Steam’s top-seller list yet.

    Also, you might find that some of those portraits will try to kill you.

    • Kyle O'Reilly says:

       I was wondering what those paintings were of.  I took screen caps because I had no idea what they were or if they were some Alternate Reality Game thingy.

      • RidleyFGJ says:

        You can press up to get a blurb about them, which are often pretty depressing in how brutally honest they can be about their hardships. It’s also the safest way to determine that they’re a fake, since even jumping into a fake portait will damage you.

  3. The_Helmaroc_King says:

    This game looks so good, but I don’t own it yet and I need to resist the urge to watch other people’s playthroughs. I know it can be fun to discover these games’ secrets myself, but it’s so much easier to watch someone play for half-an-hour at a time than to spend who-knows how long playing it myself.

    I swear, if I didn’t spend so much time watching Let’s Plays, I’d spend so much more time actually playing video games.

  4. Morning_Wodehouse says:

    God I really suck at this game. It’s been so long since I’ve played a platform like this that my old man reflexes can’t handle the combat or the jumping. One thing I really hate about the game is the continually rising prices for the upgrades. I struggle to get 500 gold a run and I’m at the point now where if I don’t get more than 1,000 I’ve basically just wasted my time.

    It’s beyond frustrating. I wish they had some kind of mechanic where you could stash some of your gold away – just a bit – so it’s not so punishing on no skill hacks like myself.

    • lokimotive says:

      They do.
      But it’s very, very pricey.

    • John Teti says:

      I doubt you’re a no-skill hack. I was at this plateau for a while, too. I bet you’ll break through, especially once you acquire/devise strategies for replenishing your health as you go.

    • RidleyFGJ says:

      If you’re worried about gold early on, it’s worth it to put some points into the right side of the skill tree, which will unlock the Miner class, which will give you a nice boost to the amount of gold you earn. His upgrade to Spelunker is also pretty damn useful, as it will make it really easy to figure out where the boss rooms are in a run.

    • Tom Jackson says:

      It’s perhaps one of the game’s biggest faults, you can avoid a lot of the grinding if you invest in certain upgrades but there’s no real way to know the grind-alleviating upgrades exist unless you invest in the correct areas.
      I got a good 4 hours into the game before I even knew the spelunker class existed.

  5. CNightwing says:

    Hm, this might scratch that procedural itch I’ve been having recently. Make your own jokes..

  6. The_Misanthrope says:

    Isn’t this a remarkably similar concept as the currently-funded second Double Fine Kickstarter Massive Chalice, only with hacky-slashy bits instead of turn-based tactics?  I guess I don’t care, because it sounds like a lot of fun.

    I’m really glad that developers are toying around with randomness in games more and more these days.  Yeah, when you want a “serious” game experience, you go with a crafted world and story, but there is such a roller-coaster thrill when you can’t predict what your next replay will bring.  I swear that everytime I open a new treasure room in BoI, I get that joyous “opening presents on Christmas morning” rush of anticipation.

    • lokimotive says:

      Conceptually it’s remarkably similar, though how similar it will be in practice remains to be seen. If Double Fine actually completes it which, given the latest news on Broken Age, seems somewhat dubious.

  7. oldtaku says:

    Every kid sucks out 1/3 to 1/2 of your brain (what’s left of it, so the second gets 1/3 of 1/3, etc). And you don’t get it back till they turn 18.

    I guess dying in a castle’s one way to do an end run around that.

  8. CrabNaga says:

    I would say that there is indeed a legacy component in Binding of Isaac as well, although a less overt one. Over time you build up a little family of depressing children to run the gauntlet of Mom’s Basement, and unlock more and more powerful (and random, and worthless) gibgobs and gadgets to help you along the way. Unfortunately, the game also fires back in that regard, granting you harder enemies, floors, more frequent curses, etc. the further you progress.

    Rogue Legacy is a strange game. I feel as if each new challenge is insurmountable one moment, and when I come back to it with a fresh set of eyes (and arms, legs, torso, head) and suddenly everything is manageable. For instance, I struggled against the final boss with 5 or so consecutive characters, learning its patterns and weaknesses. I came absurdly close to beating it on one heir (literally one hit away from victory), and the next heir (a spellsword with fire shield) completely destroyed it in about 10 seconds.

    I don’t know if my experience is applicable to others’ when playing this game, but my one criticism of this game is that I felt like the mid-to-end-game was a little grindy. For most of the game up until that point, I’d just make a mad dash to whatever boss I had to fight next. I ran into a brick wall around the Tower area, and ended up spending several centuries-worth of manflesh just exploring the early areas in an attempt to amass gold to train my stats, so I could survive more than 3 hits in the area I had to explore next.

    On a similar note, in practically every game where time tangibly passes, even if it has no bearing on the gameplay or your results, I get a bad feeling in my gut when I waste time. In the Zelda series, I would limit my usage of the song that moves time forward. In the new Fallout games, or Skyrim, I will almost never fast travel across the map, wait, or sleep unless it makes sense for my character (i.e. I have more than one quest in some area, or I haven’t slept in over a week). In this game, I get that feeling whenever I have an heir do practically nothing in the castle (i.e. not amass enough gold to buy a single upgrade). Am I the only person who gets this sort of feeling in games? And is it irrational/ironic to do so when I am effectively wasting my own time playing games in the first place?

    • Spacemonkey Mafia says:

      While I’m not susceptible to that particular worry, your general description of game anxiety is very familiar to me.
         It’s one of the main reasons I always play good characters. Because I honestly feel bad for harming or insulting people who don’t have actual feelings to be hurt.  Or even exist for that matter.
         Given the frequency with which I put my foot in my mouth in real life, I wish I had a clearly demarcated response wheel hovering about my torso at all times. 

  9. duwease says:

    “One recent point of comparison for Rogue Legacy is The Binding Of Isaac”..



    Really looking forward to playing this in a year or more when it’s ported to Mac!

  11. neodocT says:

    I have this great university friend who is sort of my academic rival, and I just noticed I’ve been slowly, but inadvertently, corrupting him with these roguelike games.

    He’d never played one before, so I told him to get The Binding of Isaac on a Humble Bundle and he absolutely loved it. I mean, I’m a huge fan of BoI, but he spent months playing the game.

    Last month, I suggested he get FTL, and he just sent me an email today on how he has been absolutely addicted to the thing, spent the entire weekend playing it and is now considering deleting the game because it’s just so addictive. 

    Rogue Legacy looks really neat, so I’ll definitely Steam gift it to him next time we’re competing on a project (MWAHAHA! Mine is an evil laugh!).

  12. Sarapen says:

    Too bad it’s not on a console, I prefer playing games like this in front of the TV.

    • neodocT says:

      Have you tried Steam’s Big Picture mode? If you can connect your computer to the TV, it works perfectly with a console controller.

    • Kyle O'Reilly says:

       I’ve been playing it on my tv thanks to my handy-dandy HDMI out port.  I’ve also played it exclusively with a controller.  It’s basically a console game for me.

  13. zgberg says:

    My child pooped in the tub yesterday. You need to have like 10 kids.

  14. Robert_Frost says:

    Blerg.  Bought the game on the strength of this review, only to find that my computer that runs games like Borderlands 2 and Mass Effect 3 just fine on decent settings can’t handle a retro 2d platformer at faster-than-molasses speeds.  It needs a fancier graphic card.  Blerrrrrg, developers.  Blerg.

    • Kyle O'Reilly says:

       I have similar problems with the game (especially when I get traits like near-sightedness, etc.).  I’ve heard it has to do with Windows 8 and the devs are working on it though.

      But yeah, this is a problem you see a lot weirdly, computers that can run Just Cause 2 on High have trouble with Indie 2d games.  My bet is they don’t have as big of a staff to optimize the game.

    • Kyle O'Reilly says:

      Here’s a link that the devs posted that might fix your problem.  I’m gonna try it when I get home.

  15. Mike Wolf says:

    I liked the idea of this game enough from RPS’ preview to preorder it (at a discount) before there was a demo or anything. Unfortunately, I’m not really taken with the final result. It feels awfully grindy as you seem to be always trying to get enough money to buy the next upgrade so you can die slightly less next time; it doesn’t feel like progress so much as having to fulfil arbitrary requirements so you can start the game ‘properly’. I’ve been pretty keen on other roguelike-likes such as the fairly recent Sword of the Stars: The Pit, so it’s not genre bias.

    Binding of Isaac, well, I couldn’t loathe that more, but I’ve never been able to figure what proportion of that is the game itself and what part is my natural reaction to Ed McMillen being a huge jerkass.

  16. NameJobBye says:

    Does anybody know if any of the Record of Agarest games are good?  I was browsing PSN for RPGs and came across them, and they also have this multigenerational element to them.  Any opinions?