In this footage you're seeing here, I'm trying to
track down the Ghost Ship in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. In order to know which island
it’ll be at, I need to make sure I’ve charted as many islands as I can, and refer to my Sea Chart
and pay attention to the landforms I’ve marked down. I’ll need to find the Ghost Ship Chart,
which requires paying attention to the hints from Fishmen as you chart out the Great Sea, and most
importantly… just exploring the ocean. The entire game was driven by exploration, and the things you
could find across its distinct islands made you stronger for the battles ahead. The game balanced
the established formula for Zelda with something that had been tied to its core essence since
the very beginning. This quest made me realize that I was playing my favourite game, as it led to
other discoveries in the world and charting more islands. It was a freeform open-world with purpose
in all facets of its design. When I finished this game for the first time, I was experiencing
what I consider to be the happiest, simplest, and most carefree days of my life. I had no
reason to believe that things would ever change. But they did change, and they changed fast.
I became very sick, and although I pulled through after three years of treatment, from
then on I was constantly living in fear that any moments of peace were fleeting, and that
I'd be confronted with yet another setback soon enough. There was always the chance that
the next moment would change everything. And usually, those anxieties
would end up being validated. One year, when I was feeling well
enough, I chose to take part in a three-day canoeing trip from one end of
a long river to another. Along the way, we’d stop at different, tiny islands to
have lunch, take breaks and set up camp, as well as explore those islands and find things
out in the forests. We’d catch fish, play games, go swimming, find other islands, and at one point
I distinctly remember finding a formation of rocks so comfortable that I just sat by the river for an
hour and watched the sunset. It was the furthest away from everything that I’d ever been, and
at that particular moment - it was just me. No one else was around. I was out in the middle
of nowhere, going on an adventure. I didn’t have to think about anything else other than enjoying
what was around me. It reminded me of how I felt playing Wind Waker as a young kid. Such awful
circumstances eventually led to me experiencing something evocative of the happiest times of my
life. I never thought I’d get back there. I never thought I’d be that happy again, and yet - I was,
even if only for a little while. In hindsight, it was a clear representation of the fact that things
can and will get better, and that life will go on. Around the time that all of this was
happening in my life, the Zelda team had processed the feedback on Skyward Sword, and
had announced that the next Zelda game was going to be completely different from anything
we had come to expect the series to be. It would be the exact opposite of Skyward
Sword - a nonlinear, open-world adventure. That game came to be known as The
Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Inspired by the original game, the team wanted to
recapture the “core” of the franchise, and prove that Zelda was rooted in the emotions it elicits
in its players, rather than established mechanics. In this video, I want to give a lengthy and
passionate breakdown of why this game left such a massive impact - an impact unseen since Ocarina
of Time - as well as a critique that sheds light on how it can and has informed the future of
Zelda and open-world game design altogether. At the same time, I also want to shed
light on how the game has served as a meditation on life’s ebbs and flows,
anxiety, and the world at large. A lot of people have made videos on this game,
but I hope I can offer a unique perspective. I’m Liam Triforce, and this is yet
another Breath of the Wild retrospective. Long ago, a childhood friend introduced
me to the concept of an “open-world” through the Grand Theft Auto games
on PlayStation 2. I was completely enthralled by the fact that I could
go wherever and do whatever I wanted. The level of detail in its setting was staggering,
with every single game feeling like you’ve stepped into a living, breathing world. It was a
big deal for me, as it was for many others. When Grand Theft Auto IV came out, I couldn’t
believe how detailed its city was, and coupled with the multiplayer suite - it seemed like the
adventures I could have in its world were endless. Ironically, these adventures I would have…kind of
betray the structure of these games. The missions take place within the open-world, which creates a
beautiful sense of seamlessness and breathes life into the locations that constantly pass you
by, and driving through the same streets in which missions take place also serves as a vital
teaching tool for when good driving matters most. However, the nature in which you complete the
game is decidedly scripted and linear for the most part. Sure, you may have the choice of which
missions you decide to take on, but you’re largely doing a lot of driving to and from missions
that are marked on your map, with no compelling incentive to really dig into the world itself,
despite how incredible the concept of freedom was. For an open-world that you are completely free
to explore, you’re following a set path pretty often. Of course, driving is fun in GTA - it kind
of has to be - but it is kept interesting through its missions and the wanted system. When you're
just trying to get from point A to point B while uncontested, it gets dull. And this happens
a LOT. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with taking some time to soak in the atmosphere as
you drive around, listening to the radio and watching people go by - it’s one of the main
reasons Rockstar’s worlds flourish so often. I remember the first time I entered
Mexico in Red Dead Redemption… It's a transient but beautiful journey between one
phase of John Marston’s story and the next, and it carries a lot of uncertainty and loneliness
with it. And what are you supposed to be doing? You’re riding towards a marker on your map.
But that’s exactly why it works so well. Red Dead Redemption in particular managed to
find that perfect balance, complimenting the structure of the GTA games through purposeful
exploration of its world. Everything you do out in the desert - helping strangers, clearing out
hideouts, picking up materials, finding weapons, completing challenges - all contribute to your own
ability to complete the main quest in small ways, as money isn’t nearly as trivial as it can be
through GTA’s main missions. Everything feeds into how you progress through the main story,
and how you fare in combat. On top of that, you still have a great deal of choice
in how you complete certain quests, weighing convenience over the morally correct
thing to do through the honor and fame systems, and building significantly on Grand Theft Auto
IV’s choices and consequences. It’s an incredibly well-realized world. You technically still don’t
have to dig into it, but there’s so much going on, and such compelling reasons to do so, that
you can’t help but want to get out there. Compare all of this to the Hidden Packages in
the PS2 GTA games. They were fun to search for, but the amount of effort you had to put in to
receive permanent weapons and body armour at your safe house wasn’t entirely worth it when you made
so much money from missions. With that said, even Red Dead Redemption suffers from those age-old
structural problems. A lot of missions just have you painstakingly riding over to your objective
with not a whole lot going on, and your horse is obviously a lot less versatile than a Turismo
or Banshee taking shortcuts in Liberty City. There will always be a place for linearity in
Rockstar’s games, but what revisiting these games has revealed is how utilization of an open-world
has always mattered most to me. An open-world can be big with so much attention to detail, but it
needs density and engaging gameplay systems and design to compensate. Otherwise, it’s nothing but
a backdrop to the game itself. An “open-world” in a video game is merely a setting, and it’s a
setting that can be utilized in many distinct ways. Ever since I first experienced Rockstar’s
most iconic game worlds and got lost in them, I’ve always wanted a game that capitalized on that
sense of freedom. A game where there is no set path. A world where you can go wherever you like;
a game that you can experience however you like. This is something I’ve thought about for a long,
long time; ever since I played the PS2 Grand Theft Auto games for the first time, and felt that sense
of freedom. The freedom I’d been searching for did exist in RPGs, especially in games like The Elder
Scrolls. And that made me wonder… Even in a game like Skyrim, where a lot of its quests are all
denoted by markers and wandering over to them, you still have a great deal of freedom to approach
the game world however you like. What if you were to fully implement this freedom and nonlinearity
into a streamlined, open-world action-adventure game? Something that doesn’t require management
of multiple stats, classes, skill trees, XP systems or anything like that - something
tightly focused like Grand Theft Auto, or… Zelda? Part of the reason I love The Wind Waker so
much was because it offered players freedom to explore the Great Sea whenever they wanted. Even
if they couldn’t investigate an island right away, they could take note of it and come back
another time. Everything you did in the ocean contributed to your ever-growing strength
in the main quest, and the ocean had plenty to offer. It doesn’t rely on an abundance of overtly
number-based systems for the player to manage, skill trees or anything like that; it has a
few streamlined ones like Heart Containers, currency, and items with unique applications that
are fleshed out through the linear main quest. It was the perfect balance of freedom and structure,
even if it wasn’t perfect overall. It proved to me that the kind of game I’d always wanted wasn’t so
far out of reach, and Zelda was a great series for that kind of game to take shape.
Reinventing Zelda Skyward Sword was released in 2011 to acclaim, but
retrospective opinions tend to critique its overly traditional and linear utilization of Zelda’s
conventions. It was a complicated game for sure, but moreover - it didn’t really pique
the interest of the general public. It was released on a dying platform with required,
controversial motion controls that people had largely lost interest in, and it had to go toe
to toe with Skyrim during its release window. Nintendo also focused heavily on promoting the
Wii U at E3 that year, giving Skyward Sword little attention in comparison. As a result of all of
these factors, the game ended up becoming the weakest selling 3D Zelda game in history, falling
short of The Wind Waker despite the reservations people had with that game initially. Feedback
on Skyward Sword would end up influencing series producer Eiji Aonuma to think differently about
how to approach the creation of a Zelda game. In 2013, we received A Link Between Worlds,
which predominantly featured a non-linear structure where players could rent items
and complete dungeons in any order they liked. This nonlinearity did unfortunately
remove a layer of depth to each dungeon; because players could be doing these dungeons
at any point, they could no longer factor in the other items in your inventory in puzzle-solving.
Dungeons could only really focus on one item. However, this doesn’t entirely
discard the utility of those items, as they can both be used in combat, and in
emergent solutions to problems. The player had an unparalleled level of freedom to
approach the game however they liked, and people raved about that. It was such a refreshing
game after Zelda had consistently pursued a firm, linear structure. Aonuma implied in a 2013
interview that this was only the beginning: “Our mission in developing this new Zelda
game for Wii U is quite plainly to rethink the conventions of Zelda. I'm referring
to things like the expectation that the player is supposed to complete dungeons in
a certain order, or that you're supposed to play by yourself. The things that we've
come to take for granted recently. We want to set aside these 'conventions', get
back to basics and create a newborn Zelda game so that the players today can best
enjoy the real essence of the franchise.” Determining the “essence” of the franchise is
no small task. Like I said in my Ocarina of Time video, a question as simple as “What is Zelda?”
has an answer that varies depending on who you ask. Some people would even tell you they arrived
at the wrong answer in their most recent efforts. A while back, I put out a survey asking
people for their detailed thoughts on the entire Zelda series thus far. One of
the questions asked was what people liked most about Zelda as a series, and while
the answer already seemed clear to me… it was reassuring to see a statistical
representation of it. Although each entry is so distinct in terms of structure, central
mechanics and theming, there is always something tying every game together in spirit - the sense of
exploration and adventure. Mechanics may evolve, a structure may be in place, but that feeling of
adventure remains constant throughout every entry. The most profound example of this is without
question the original Legend of Zelda. It is infamous today for how alien it feels in
terms of structure. In fact, when asked if they still enjoy playing the original Zelda
today, Miyamoto and Aonuma had this to say. In the first Zelda, you receive very little
guidance in-game, and need to resort to the manual and fold-out map in order to solve its
many mysteries. Figuring out which bush to burn or which wall to bomb to find caves using nothing
but hints from the material provided to you and your wits created this universal feeling of
satisfaction. Those moments where you realize what needs to be done - especially ones that you put
together on your own - eventually became the basis for the entire Zelda series. Every subsequent game
would be built to elicit those feelings. A Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time established what we
know as the Zelda formula in an effort to bring a more cohesive structure to those “ah-ha!” moments
from the original game. Majora’s Mask uses the problems of the people of Termina, tying themes
of empathy and finality into the Zelda gameplay loop. The Wind Waker had this giant ocean that you
could gradually untangle and chart as you explore, collect items, investigate islands, and take note
of hints from the various fishmen. If anything, having that tried and true formula in place
for so long was only inhibiting their ability to deliver this feeling in new ways. While I
in no way consider Skyward Sword a bad game, it was becoming evident that this formula was
limiting what was possible with Zelda. The individuality of previous Zelda games came from
those unique gameplay concepts I just alluded to. Was there really a need to keep
clinging to that formula any longer? Of course, that doesn’t mean we should abandon
every idea in place with that formula. That formula was in place to begin with so that
it could more consistently provide those feelings we associate with Zelda. A lot
of people responding to my survey still cited dungeons as their favourite aspect, and
a lot of the questions featured in the survey centered around the very things that the formula
utilizes. It would be very difficult to disconnect all of those things from the next game and still
call it Zelda. Difficult… but not impossible. As I just laid out - Zelda is and always has
been about a sense of adventure and exploration, as well as the satisfaction in solving mysteries
- no matter how it decided to present itself. The development of the next game would be predicated
on the idea that Zelda is rooted in a feeling, not game mechanics, and it was a revelation that was
necessary for the series to keep moving forward. Throughout 2014, we received brief glimpses
into how the game was shaping up. Our first look was at E3 that year, wherein we laid eyes
upon the game’s world for the first time. This was actually the first Zelda game to be presented
in high-definition, as the Wii was only capable of outputting up to 480p. As such, the game demanded
a lot of fine details, and just this shot alone was impressive enough. Of course, this shot
was specifically crafted for the presentation, so as tantalizing as it was, it wasn’t what I
walked away thinking about most. When Aonuma reinforced his goals for the game, and mentioned
wanting to break away from playing through the game in a certain order, I knew this game was
going to be something special. That statement alone had me salivating for more because if done
right, this would be the exact game I had always wanted to play. Later that year, we saw about
four minutes of gameplay at The Game Awards, but that 2015 release date they’d been teasing didn’t
stick. The game was delayed early that year, with Aonuma stating the team came up with an influx
of new ideas as a result of the newfound freedom of exploration. It was clear that the game needed
more time to be the best it can be, something that he felt would exceed “even his own expectations.”
The game would receive another release date of 2016, only for that date to be moved to 2017
to match the launch of the Nintendo Switch. The game was re-introduced at E3 2016. In fact, the game was Nintendo’s sole focus at the
expo that year, as we were experiencing a very awkward transitional period for the
company. Let me briefly sum up the situation: The Wii U was in shambles. It had good games,
but the heavy hitters people wanted were not always forthcoming. Its marketing was awful -
right down to the name itself - and third-party support for the console was dwindling.
The Nintendo Switch was in development, and this new Zelda game was to be released on
two platforms concurrently, just like Twilight Princess on the GameCube and Wii.
Satoru Iwata had just recently passed away. And lastly…
This new Zelda game had several years of speculation and discussion leading up to it.
As Nintendo was preparing for a complete reset, the Zelda team was as well. It was going to
redefine the series, just as A Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time had done two decades
prior. It had the lengthiest development cycle of a Zelda game at the time, it was to take
full advantage of its open-world through player freedom, and it had to be good enough
to sell Nintendo’s next console on its own. With all of this at hand, there
was a lot riding on Zelda at E3. And they knocked it out of the park. Breath of the Wild’s first trailer - as
well as the gameplay demonstration that followed - showcased what exactly they had been
focusing on after all this time. It wasn’t just about how massive the world was, it was about
what you’d be doing in that world, and how you could approach different situations. On top of
being able to go wherever and experience the game however you like, you could deal with enemies
in multiple ways beyond direct confrontation, you could create paths for yourself
through organic means in the world, and approach problems from multiple angles. It was
hard to say because I hadn’t played it for myself and it was framed in a manner that was clearly
designed to promote the game, but it seemed like Breath of the Wild was going to be my dream game.
It not only carried over the spirit of Zelda, but also crafted the type of game I’d always
wanted to play. And that day, they’d only shown a small fraction of what was possible, focusing
solely on the Great Plateau - the “tutorial” area, so to speak. Needless to say, I was excited,
and the anticipation only grew from there. Time marched onward. The night before Breath
of the Wild launched, I could hardly sleep. The embargo had been lifted, the reviews heaped
outstanding praise on the game - everyone that had already played it seemed to hail it
as this shining example of magnificence in open-world game design. Zelda had usually
seen unanimous praise like this in the past, but Breath of the Wild was another beast entirely.
The love was everywhere, and it was overwhelming. It was hard not to buy into the excitement.
After dreaming about what this open-ended Zelda would be like for so long, I would finally
be able to play it once I woke up the next day. Four years since the announcement that the next
Zelda would be “open-world,” and nearly fifteen years since I’d first set sail in the Great Sea
- the Zelda game of my dreams was on the horizon. Like clockwork, my anxious, intrusive thoughts
returned to cloud my excitement for the game. What if I didn’t enjoy it? What if it
wasn’t what I thought it was going to be? And even if it is - I’ll eventually have to
pull myself out of it and return to reality to face my problems. The game wouldn’t
be a permanent, magical escape from them. Eventually, I was able to ignore
those thoughts and get some sleep. I woke up early, picked up the game,
and began playing as soon as I could. Of course, there were a lot of valid questions
floating around in my mind as I booted the game up. With Aonuma’s goal of rethinking the
conventions of Zelda, would banking on its core essence in this nonlinear game be enough
to call it a Zelda game? It felt like every single idea in this game had to play a small
part in a satisfying answer to that question. There’s a lot to unpack here, and I suppose the
best place to begin is where everyone else did. The game opens with no context or explanation. You’re in a dark chamber, and you have to
pick up a mysterious slate and move forward. You can choose to open these chests before
proceeding onward, and as you’re told that you are the light that must shine upon Hyrule,
you take your first steps onto the Great Plateau. This moment held so much weight because we
knew exactly what this game was aiming to be, and we were able to forge our
own path from the word “go.” The original Legend of Zelda began the same
way. You’d enter the cave on the first screen, get your sword, and from there - the rest of
the world was yours to discover. The manual and map did help you get your footing, but
past a certain point - it was up to you to solve Hyrule. On top of that, you could
go wherever you wanted in order to gain a better understanding of the world, entering
dungeons and caves at any point in time, so long as you had all eight Triforce shards
by the time you reached Death Mountain. Breath of the Wild aims to emulate the
spirit of that game through nonlinearity, though it was important to have an introduction
in place. Zelda was a much more complex series of systems than Super Mario Bros. back
in the 80s, and you couldn’t exactly rely on invisible tutorials for its secrets. The
manual was an integral part of that experience, as it informed players on virtually
every aspect of the game’s design, without explicitly telling them what to do. If
you’re going to create a truly freeform world, it’s important not to overwhelm players with
too many options and little explanation. This is where the Great Plateau comes in. This
diverse and dense, yet comparatively small plot of land is your tutorial, and it’s one of the
greatest tutorial sequences I’ve ever experienced. The game first guides you towards a mysterious
old man, but you don’t necessarily have to listen. You can wander around, pick things up, and
interact with stuff at your own discretion. You might get into trouble when doing so, but
this was incredibly refreshing after previous Zelda tutorials asked you to complete a specific
series of events. Every time you perform an action for the first time, there will either be a text
box giving you more information about something, or there will be a little blurb in the top-right
of the screen giving you a bit more information about what you’ve just done. It might sound
like standard fare, but when you consider the amount of systems that this game balances -
it’s surprisingly subdued and not ever intrusive. Eventually, you’ll hear a voice telling you to
head to the point marked on your Sheikah Slate, and in doing so you’ll be able to activate a
tower that gives you a map of the Great Plateau, as well as awaken all other towers and shrines
across Hyrule. Your ultimate goal becomes clear as the Old Man swoops in. In order to leave the Great
Plateau with that paraglider of his, you need to collect the runes from all four shrines on the
Great Plateau. The Old Man’s mystifying presence is not only a direct callback to the original
Zelda’s assortment of secret old people, but also your only lead as you try to piece together
what the heck happened before you woke up. From here, the Plateau truly opens up.
You have complete freedom to tackle each shrine in any order you like, and you can
reach each shrine in a multitude of ways, from a multitude of different angles. Every
situation can be approached differently, and every route has something in store for you.
Along the way, you’ll learn nearly everything about the game’s core mechanics, without the
sequence feeling like an explicit tutorial. The design flow of the Great Plateau is
commendable, as it always manages to intrigue and inform its players at the same time. As soon
as you wake up, you’ll be able to investigate a nearby pond for a Korok and a Rusty Broadsword,
as well as ruins of nearby buildings for enemies, weapons, treasure chests, and more.
Below this broken bridge, you’ll be able to spot an enemy base. You could just run
in flailing wildly, but without any gamesense, your death is almost certain. But in this
game, there are many ways to solve a problem. Soon after taking your first steps on the
Plateau, you can find a giant boulder that you can push down the hill. Near the base
are a few Bokoblins, about to chow down. Atop a ledge is an all-too convenient boulder,
and there are a few explosive barrels below. You can probably figure out what to do next. This
is a small example of how you can use your wits to create your own solutions in combat. That boulder,
as well as a torch dangling above a base filled with explosive barrels are very explicit examples
of how you can avoid unnecessary confrontation, and from there - you might start thinking about
other options. If you sneak up on an enemy, you can instantly kill most of them with a
sneakstrike. If you shoot an explosive barrel with a Fire Arrow, it explodes, obviously. Maybe you
could land headshots when you have a clear shot to take care of enemies faster. Maybe you shoot down
a beehive and have the bees chase after a Bokoblin so you can steal its weapons. You might even start
thinking about how runes could come into play. Each Shrine requires you to navigate
through a distinct portion of the Plateau, and each route presents distinct challenges.
The Magnesis trial shows you how the rune can be applied in the world itself, and its
surrounding area is filled with puzzles and little uses of Magnesis for treasure.
Nearby the Magnesis trial are a few Bokoblins, as well as metallic objects that are begging
to be used. It’s not explicitly stated that you should use Magnesis here, but it’s something
that I think the designers wanted players to try, especially if they just came from the Shrine. If
you swing or drop a metallic object on enemies with enough force, they will be injured
and sometimes even killed from the impact, so I tend to use Magnesis whenever possible. In
order to reach the Bomb trial, you’ll have to walk through a field of deactivated Guardians-
JUST KIDDING, they’re still active. Thankfully, they’re stationary, but getting shot by one of
these things is a death sentence. You’ll have to avoid and evade by using the walls of these
ruins to take cover. I love that they introduce you to these enemies here on the Plateau, just
to give you an idea of what you’ll be up against. In order to reach the Stasis trial, you’ll have
to climb a mountain. Now, you will have tried climbing briefly in the Shrine of Resurrection,
and you might have climbed the Temple of Time, but trying to climb an entire mountain with
what little stamina you have is ill-advised, even if the most reliable path up the
mountain does have footholds when you need a break. Trying to go around in order
to reach the Shrine means braving the cold when you might have no idea how to do that
if you haven’t reached the Cryonis trial yet. The Great Plateau gathers solutions to both of
these problems in one single area. Of course, you can learn about them in other ways, but this
was what always stuck with me. At the Old Man’s house, you can read about a recipe for something
that can help you traverse the snowy mountains, and his willingness to reward whomever can
brave the cold with a warm doublet, which protects you from those freezing temperatures
to an extent. This diary seemed to be a bit too conveniently written, didn’t it? I love how the
Old Man messes with you in the Great Plateau. This entry in the diary presents you with
the solution to reaching the Cryonis trial, as well as the mechanic of cooking altogether,
which can also be used to help boost your speed, stamina or whatever you may need to conquer the
mountain. The cooking mechanic is driven by player experimentation, essentially combining ingredients
for meals or elixirs that may go well together, and then just seeing what shakes out when
they throw things into the pot. You can create meals that temporarily benefit you in many
different ways - attack, defense, heat resistance, stealth - in this case, I happened to make
something that would protect me from the cold, as well as a speed-boosting elixir that increased
the swiftness of all my actions, so that I could climb the mountain, and then not freeze to
death once I reach the top. In order to find the ingredients necessary, you have to hunt for them
yourself and discern where they might be growing. You can only have one effect in play at a
time, so you can’t stack them and become an all-powerful being. The mechanic is all
about creativity and exploration - both core elements of this game - and it’s an astounding
method of implementing a crafting system from an RPG without it feeling too complex or obtuse.
It’s just about putting ingredients together based on the descriptions, and figuring out
what works best for you. It’s brilliant, and we’ll expand on how this mechanic
affects more areas of the game later. On the way to each Shrine, you’ll no doubt
run into several secrets, as the Plateau is as dense and as detailed as any other area in the
game. The game conveys that you can create your own paths over chasms, bodies of water, or other
roadblocks through your runes and the things that surround you, such as using metallic objects with
Magnesis, cutting down a tree to make a bridge, using a leaf from a tree to sail on a raft, and
using Cryonis to make platforms for yourself, just as some examples. One of my favourite secrets
happened to be this cave I found after sailing down the river. It’s behind a waterfall, and it
contains materials and powerful weapons. These weapons might be used to fight bosses, which you
can also stumble upon when wandering the Plateau. You can solve little puzzles to find Koroks,
preparing you for the kind of thinking necessary to find them in the first place, deal
with Bokoblin camps, find treasure chests, collect food and ingredients, and so much more.
This is what I mean when I say that The Great Plateau - though it is a tutorial - it never feels
like one. Every mechanic is learned organically through practical application. Every Shrine on the
Plateau makes it clear what can be done with each rune without any long-winded explanations.
Although you are learning to play the game, in practice - this is just a meticulously
curated microcosm of the rest of the game. Thanks to everything I’ve mentioned,
I believe the Great Plateau is one of the most liberating and exciting
tutorials a video game has ever seen. After completing all four Shrines, the
old man will appear and congratulate you, before instructing you to head towards the point
on your map where the four Shrines intersect. He then dematerializes. Once you’ve figured out that
you’re supposed to head toward the Temple of Time, you can then exchange your four Spirit Orbs for
a Heart Container, or an upgrade to your Stamina Wheel. This means that for every four Shrines you
clear, you have a choice between upgrading your health (and therefore your resilience against
attacks), or your ability to climb, run, swim, and charge an attack - among other actions. The
Old Man reveals himself to be King Rhoam, ruler of a kingdom that no longer exists. Every time
this guy swept in with his paraglider, you were hearing the beginning of the king’s melody. King
Rhoam informs you of what happened a century ago, when the Great Calamity devastated Hyrule,
and what you now must do, despite having no recollection of these events. After recommending
you seek out Impa in Kakariko Village, he finally hands you the Paraglider so that you can leave
the Plateau, and he fades into nothingness. From here, the world is yours. There are no
restrictions on where you can go, or what you can do. You can heed the king’s words and head
straight to Kakariko Village if you so desire, but your ultimate task is to destroy Ganon. You can do
this at any point, so long as you feel prepared. So why don’t we put that to the test? Here I am,
commandeering a nearby horse and riding toward the castle just after leaving the Great
Plateau. If this game is truly nonlinear, I figured this would be a good way
to see how far I can push things. In response, the game basically says “well,
you asked for it,” and makes the castle and its surrounding areas relentless to traverse.
If you walk through the ruins in Hyrule Field, you’ll almost certainly come across Guardians,
which are abundant and they can be stationary, have legs and move around, or even fly, and they
all really want to kill you. Their lasers can one shot you for a good chunk of the game, and
are still brutally damaging even with a large amount of Heart Containers and beefy armour.
You have to keep moving to dodge the lasers, and hope that you can escape if you have multiple
Guardians locked onto you. It never really lets up until you reach the castle, and even the grounds
inside the castle wall are swarming with them. So why would I want to do this
early? Well, I have a few reasons. The first is that I want to push myself and this
game’s nonlinearity as much as possible. How much can my own skill challenge an unrelenting force?
The footage you're seeing is not from my first playthrough, and I had a great deal of knowledge
about the game’s mechanics. I wanted to see if I could truly finish the game as soon as I left the
Plateau. Ultimately, it proved too difficult for me to survive, as I had to face each enemy
knowing that a single hit could kill me, and that includes all of the dungeon bosses in
a row before Calamity Ganon, but as speedrunners and enthusiasts have proven - it can totally be
done. The endgame being accessible whenever you like is compelling, because it allows you to make
the decision to challenge Calamity Ganon when you feel adequately prepared. Regardless of whether
or not you want to max out your Heart Containers, Stamina Wheel, or clear all of the dungeons,
or recall all of Link’s memories - you can play the game your own way. Of course, I think
most people like to experience a good chunk of what this game has to offer before taking on
Ganon, which brings me to my second reason: The rewards are overwhelmingly awesome. The
surrounding area’s ruins already yield decent enough weapons and materials, but the castle
itself - as you could imagine - is brimming with things to collect. Weapons that
deal incredibly high amounts of damage, valuable materials, rupees, and even quest
and story-related items. A nearby stable has a few NPCs that will offer rewards for
bringing the Royal Guard line of weapons, as well as rewards for baking stuff by
following the recipes found in the castle. There’s also journals that give a significant
amount of context to the decisions and thought patterns of certain characters (which we’ll
discuss much later), and you can even find a Shrine and the Hylian Shield if you search
thoroughly enough. There’s so much detail and purpose packed into Hyrule Castle, which
brings me to my third and final point: Hyrule Castle, in Breath of the Wild, is one
of the greatest areas ever constructed for a Zelda game, and it is designed to be visited
multiple times. You could consider it a dungeon, but not in the traditional sense. In addition
to having some of the most detail and purpose out of any area in the game, progression through
Hyrule Castle is entirely nonlinear, and I do mean entirely nonlinear. You can approach the castle
itself from any angle; you don’t have to storm the gate to get in. In order to reach the final boss,
you have to climb all the way up to the Sanctum, but you can do this in any way you like. Following
the path outside, going through the inside, a mixture of both, climbing the walls, swimming up
waterfalls with the Zora armour - it never ends, and there are reasons to take different routes
beyond reaching Calamity Ganon, as we discussed. It is a spectacular representation of this game’s
non-linear nature, and the unyielding difficulty in traversing every inch of the castle grounds
make sure that any route you take will be tough, but correct. There are no wrong ways in Hyrule
Castle, or in Breath of the Wild altogether. Visiting the castle early also presents you with
a lot of emotional weight. Early on, you won’t have a full grasp of the context surrounding this
observably devastated castle, but I still feel it succeeds in affecting and empowering players
no matter how much of the game they’ve seen, through both its level of detail,
and respect to the spirit of Zelda. That’s enough for now, though. I’ll come
back to Hyrule Castle when I’m ready. A fantastic, underrated creator and friend
of mine that goes by “LambHoot” mentioned something in a video of his that always stuck
with me. When discussing video games in reviews or retrospectives, we tend to isolate specific
elements of games to discuss them individually, even though that’s not ever how we experience
them. All of those elements are consumed at once, as they all come together to make a video game
what it is. This is why it has been especially difficult for me to deconstruct what makes
Breath of the Wild such a captivating game. Every single individual element is
driven by player freedom and discovery, and the relationships between all of these
elements are precisely why the game is so difficult to put down, and why it has one of
the most fully utilized worlds I’ve ever seen. The primary thing that dictates all interactions
in Breath of the Wild - both passive and player-driven - is the chemistry between
everything. In the Plateau, I touched upon needing to cook up meals and elixirs to move faster and
brave the cold. This is but a small example of how the game’s systems come together both on their
own and through the player’s own curiosity when approaching a problem. Here is a long-winded
example of how everything comes together: Metal objects, while movable with Magnesis, are
also conductive to electricity, which means during a thunderstorm, they’re dangerous. This is why
it’s important to have non-conductive weapons on you at all times, like wooden or ancient
guardian weapons, as this also extends to any metal on your body like weapons, but… ah-ha!
That also means metal weapons can be used to solve electricity-based problems in shrines
and beyond. Thunderstorms also mean rain, which means you can use shock arrows to cause
giant AOE damage, however this also means you can’t climb without slipping. If you need to
climb a mountain right away, you can start a campfire! You can cut down a tree, use a piece
of flint to create a spark with a metal weapon, or use a fire-based weapon like a Flameblade or
Fire Arrow. But how are you going to do that if it’s raining? Well, maybe you could find yourself
an overhang to set up your campfire. You could also choose to shrug off the rain with stamina
and speed-buffs, as well as the set bonus of your Climbing Gear that increases your jump height when
climbing. Armour can also be strategically chosen for specific scenarios, as they provide permanent
buffs instead of temporary ones. The Barbarian Armour gives you a nice attack buff, while the
Sheikah Armour is great for when you need to use stealth to your advantage or move quickly at
night. The tradeoff here is that you need to find and purchase each individual armour piece the
game has to offer, as well as upgrade them at a Fairy Fountain individually with separate, unique
requirements. However, you can mix and match three different armour pieces on your head, torso,
and legs if you’d like a bonus in raw defense, attack, and stealth all at once. To upgrade them
you need to collect materials pertaining to each armour piece, and spare materials can also be
sold for rupees, which are comparatively scarce in this game. You have to earn rupees through
playing into the game’s economy, helping people with their problems through sidequests, and if
you’re lucky - discovering them in the world. Discovery and exploration are at
the root of all of these things. It all comes full circle in the end, and
everything element feeds into another in some way. The physics engine also underpins a lot of
interactivity in the world. Previous Zelda games have simulated physics for certain interactions,
but never have they let you have such a degree of freedom with it; it was akin to Half-Life 2 in
how it let the player take full control of its integrated engine. Rolling boulders and throwing
things is one thing, but how about gaining some serious speed by shieldboarding down a hill? How
about launching things with stasis by putting some sword strikes into something before it unfreezes?
How about drifting downstream on a raft? Even small things, like the ways in which the wind
carries flames are factored into the engine. This interconnectedness of game systems reminded
me of how I could put the pieces together in previous Zelda games, and this is exactly how
Breath of the Wild so brilliantly evokes the core essence of Zelda’s problem-solving in an
open-ended setting. In previous Zelda games, you would typically find one single solution to
a problem through your own extensive knowledge of items and situations. In Breath of the
Wild, you are finding one of many solutions to a problem based on what works best for you,
or what your own intuition tells you to do. Speaking of which, this is core to the
game’s structure as well. Though you are first pointed toward Kakariko Village, you
don’t have to do this at all. You can wander out into the farthest reaches of Hyrule if
you’d like, and discover the Divine Beasts and major towns of your own volition.
This was exactly what I’d always wanted, and the game makes enthralling and often
ingenious efforts to manage this freedom. Each region in Breath of the Wild is
not only packed with things to discover, but the regions themselves also offer vastly
differing gameplay thanks to its use of the systems we discussed earlier, and I think this is
fundamental in injecting variety into exploration. The center of the map - as well as Hyrule Castle
itself - could be considered the “plains,” which is why it balances its manageable terrain
with a wide assortment of enemies. The outskirts surrounding the central area are where
I think the designers wanted players to stick to, as they have more beginner-friendly enemy camps
and challenges to take on. The further you go in any direction, the more difficult and dynamic
gameplay becomes. Not only do the furthest reaches of the map contain more powerful
enemies and higher concentrations of them, but just basic traversal presents new
challenges (as well as new opportunities). The far reaches of Hyrule contain a harsh
desert, a lake being fed by tall waterfalls, multiple frozen tundras and snowy peaks to climb
and explore, an active volcano with magma lakes and rivers, an autumn-like region with steep
hills above deep pits, a dangerous rainforest full of waterfalls and incessant lightning, as
well as unique, smaller areas in between. You can cross over from one region to another in a
seemingly infinite number of ways, and as you could probably tell from my descriptions
- they offer unique gameplay scenarios. In order to get a clearer picture of each
area, you’ll need to locate a Sheikah Tower and download a map to your Slate. Unlike
other games that utilize a similar mechanic, the tower is never pinpointed on your map by
default. You always have to search for them yourself, and they attempt to make reaching and
scaling these towers feel like actual events. Once you obtain a map of the region from the
tower, that doesn’t mean that all of its various challenges and goodies show up at once. One thing
I absolutely loathe about most open-world games is when obtaining a map of a new area also means
revealing the location of every single little challenge or collectible. You’re not discovering
things in the world at that point, you’re crossing off items on a checklist. This game, however,
gives you important locales and a general overhead view of the topography, but that’s it. It’s on you
to explore each region for everything it contains. First of all - Gerudo Desert. Entering this
region means either scaling tall mountains and soaring into the desert with the Paraglider,
or entering by following the winding road that snakes in between the mountains. No matter how
you arrive, you’ll quickly notice that trudging through this much sand is arduous, and you can’t
even enter Gerudo Town without being thrown out for being male. Their mistrust is understandable,
considering… y’know, Ganondorf, but in order to free that Divine Beast, you need to find a way in
there. In addition to both of these things, you also have to deal with the sweltering heat during
the day and the freezing cold during the night, as well as the low visibility during the impenetrable
sandstorms in the further reaches of the desert. So, with all of these problems lined up, what can
you do? Well, I think you know the answer to that as well as I do. Explore. Find things, talk to
people, gather information from the world around you. To enter Gerudo Town, you can purchase a
stunning disguise from Vilia in Kara Kara Bazaar, which also protects you from the heat. To protect
from the cold without any warm meals or clothes, you could sleep at the Inn until daytime and
replenish (and even overfill) your health. To make the desert less cumbersome to traverse,
you can obtain Sand Boots from this pathetic individual, as well as rent or procure yourself
a Sand Seal to fully explore the Gerudo Desert. There’s so much more to do in the desert and its
surrounding areas that take full advantage of its ideas, like this quest where you have to follow
the directions these statues point you in through the limited visibility, or this quest where you
have to carry this block of ice through the heat of the desert without it melting, using speed
and shadows to protect the ice from the worst of the sun’s effects. Yet another brilliant example
of the chemistry between elements in this game. Also, if you explore the desert long enough, you
might even run into its unique boss - Molduga. As I briefly mentioned, you can actually stumble
upon bosses in the overworld, and each of them have their own unique properties and benefits
to fighting them. A Stone Talus rewards you with a wealth of Gemstones, which are valuable in
crafting and upgrading armour, as well as making money outright. There’s never really a reason
not to fight them if you see one, which is why the game balances this in a few ways. First of
all, they usually don’t make themselves obvious until you accidentally walk over them. A Talus
is usually just a pile of rocks on the ground, so they can often take you by surprise. Sometimes
you might find yourself looking for them, only to realize that you’re just walking on a regular pile
of rocks. It keeps you guessing. The other things that keep these encounters fresh are the elemental
Talus fights. Igneo and Frost Talus both shake things up by making you unable to walk on them
without cooling them down or defrosting them, respectively. You can also wear armour that gives
you the fireproof or unfreezable set bonuses to counteract them. The elements give these
encounters some variety in how you approach them. The other boss you’ll likely run into is a Hinox.
Usually, it’s about shooting them in the eye when you have a clear shot, and then doing as much
damage as possible while they’re down. Killing these enemies reward you with valuable Hinox
materials, as well as an assortment of weapons for your troubles. Stalnox also aims to add some
variety to these encounters by only allowing you to attack its eyeball once you’ve knocked it out
of place. It’s funny to see how they’ve put a spin on the “giant eyeball” trope Zelda has had for a
while. Although there are only four random boss enemies to encounter in the overworld itself,
they have their own role in the balancing act of filling this game’s world, as their rewards
can be important to so many other interactions. There’s also one more powerful enemy I want
to talk about, but I’ll save it for later. Molduga, however, is my favourite of the three
I’ve mentioned. It takes full advantage of the unique gameplay in Gerudo Desert, and
the way it sneaks up on you and attacks, as well as how you need to deal as much
damage as possible before it swipes at you and burrows back into the sand make
it a really fun boss to deal with. You can use a sand seal to stay on top of its
movements and shoot as you move through the sand, or you could find high ground to stay out of its
path and strike when the time is right. It rewards you with a ton of expensive materials, as well
as a treasure chest. I’m kind of surprised that other regions don’t have their own unique bosses
like Molduga. Having a boss in the snowy mountains of Hebra or thunderous cascades of Necluda that
specifically take advantage of those region’s attributes would’ve been cool to see. There are
still plenty of great things out there, though. When proceeding with the main quest in the
Gerudo Desert, you’ll have to infiltrate the Yiga Clan’s Hideout. You might have run into
a few of these individuals around Hyrule, and they are hellbent on killing you.
Progressing through the hideout means tiptoeing your way around Yiga Clan members,
unless you really want to get trapped in with a bunch of powerful enemies at once. You
can use Mighty Bananas to distract them, as well as sneak up behind unsuspecting
enemies and kill them with a sneakstrike. You could also find a way to not interact with
enemies at all. It’s all about experimentation; it’s a confined area that still plays into
the open-ended problem solving of this game. Now, let’s talk about the snowy regions,
specifically Tabantha, Hebra, and the Gerudo Highlands. With the exception of the grassy plains
encircling Rito Village, as well as a few paved roads and other distinct landmarks, these regions
are almost entirely composed of exploring vast, mountainous tundras, and the Gerudo Highlands
are mountains that exist on the outskirts of the desert. These areas bring with them the
challenges of climbing and stamina management, low visibility in snowstorms, extreme
colds, freezing lakes that drain your health swiftly if you swim in them, and deep
snow, which you can mitigate with a pair of snow boots from our friend in the Gerudo
Desert, or from a shop in Rito Village. These challenges also present new opportunities
for exploration and problem-solving. For starters, while the mountains may be steep climbing up, this
also naturally means that they are steep going down, making for perfect shield surfing routes,
minigames and unique puzzles involving snowballs getting larger and larger rolling downhill. There
are two shrine quests here involving that idea, with both of them asking you to somehow maintain
a snowball large enough to smash your way into a cave with a shrine, but one of them in particular
has multiple paths to take. There’s even a shrine quest that has you carry a snowball over to a
pedestal, and it has to be the right time of day for the shadow of that snowball to align with
the center of the pedestal. The high altitudes of the mountains present colder temperatures, and
those extreme colds might seem like they force you to swap to warm clothing, but you can also cook
meals instead so that you can wear other armour with higher defense values, and you can even equip
a flameblade or Fire Rod to keep yourself warm! Speaking of fire, there are puzzles involving
melting large amounts of ice, and you can use campfires and fire-based weapons to speed up the
process. My absolute favourite puzzle out in the mountains, however, is this one involving a shrine
in a cave surrounded by a freezing pond. It’s a simple setup for a shrine, but it has multiple
solutions that can be tricky to figure out. Much later in the game, you can actually use your high
number of Heart Containers to just brute force the freezing waters, though you will lose a LOT of
health in the process and still risk death if you aren’t quick enough. The path I think the game
recommends you take involves cutting down a tree, and riding the log downstream and entering the
cave from the other end. It’s very dangerous, but entirely possible, and exemplifies the beauty of
the physics engine and the way you can play with it. The way I found, however, involved climbing
around the side wall with careful and patient stamina management, and then jumping off at the
right time in order to make it to the shrine. The things that differing regions and their
effects enable seem endless, in part due to their individuality, but also the ways in which they
play into Breath of the Wild’s systems. Eldin is a unique region for its magma and its sweltering
heat. And when I say heat, I’m talking HEAT. Like, you will catch on FIRE if you don’t pack an
elixir when entering this place. Not only will you burst into flames without Flame Guard, but
you’ll also run into occasional eruptions from Death Mountain. You can also play around with
minecarts here to cross large amounts of magma, and the steepness of Death Mountain itself can
play a part in keeping traversal interesting. The main quest has you using cannons to take out enemy
camps, as well as escorting Yunobo up the mountain and avoiding the Guardians looking for you. Like
the Yiga Clan Hideout mission, there are multiple ways of dealing with enemies (my favourite
being bombing them while paragliding overhead), and you actually use the cannon once more to shoot
Yunobo at the Divine Beast. Necluda, specifically the rainforest area, is dangerous due to the large
amount of thunder, its general topography, dense amount of trees, and multiple waterfalls that
all ask players to dig for discoveries. Akkala is an absolutely gorgeous and colourful region
that neighbors Eldin and Lanayru. Akkala itself plays with verticality and hills in cool ways, and
its proximity to those regions can make for unique entrances if you’re willing to climb over some
mountains. In regions with large bodies of water and waterfalls, particularly Necluda and Lanayru,
you’ll have to find ways to cross like Cryonis, sailing with a raft, or even finding a mountain
to climb and then paragliding over the water. When you enter Lanayru, you’ll be faced with
an endless downpour due to Ganon’s possession of the Divine Beast. This means that you can’t
actually climb up and around the mountains to reach Zora’s Domain - at least, not without facing
a lot of trouble. This presents an interesting dilemma - you are essentially funneled into this
narrow river, forced to deal with enemies and potentially spend resources doing so. There’s also
a lot of secrets and alternate paths to discover in this area, and if you’re clever enough
with the tools at your disposal - you may be able to pick and choose your battles at your
discretion, and reap the rewards. The main quest here revolves around collecting a large amount of
Shock Arrows, both cluing the player into their potential during rain, as well as pointing them
towards a fearsome opponent. But again…we won’t be talking about that just yet. In proceeding
with the main quest (as well as exploring Zora’s Domain and its surrounding areas for secrets
and sidequests), you’ll obtain the Zora armour, which is a godsend because you can swim at the
cost of much less stamina, and you can straight up climb waterfalls. It’s awesome to have on hand
not just in Lanayru, but anywhere that has water. Side quests and shrine quests can be found in
a region’s major city, stables, or even out in the middle of nowhere, and they can revolve
around the goings-on in the cities themselves, the gameplay offered by the region you’re in, or
they can go beyond the scope of the region and act as an overarching quest that you can work on
as you progress. Nearly all of them involve some level of problem-solving akin to Zelda games
of old, and they significantly flesh out the locations that you visit. It feels like every
single location in Hyrule is alive, thanks to impeccable design and art direction, as well as
the ways in which you can get involved with them. Take Kakariko Village, for example. Unlike
previous takes on the village, this one leans heavily into the Sheikah culture for its look.
It demonstrates an eastern influence through the art design, the music, and the villagers
even follow customs reminiscent of Buddhism. It has its own distinct artistic flourishes
though, particularly through the buildings and the clothing the villagers wear. The village
itself has conveniences for the player as well, as it has an easily accessible shrine for gaining
Heart Containers and stamina from Spirit Orbs, and it’s right next to a Fairy Fountain
if you need to upgrade your armour. You can also purchase the Sheikah armour here, and
although it is expensive, the stealth bonus, as well as the set bonus increasing your overall
speed at night, make it feel more than worth it. The quests were so entertaining, and
sometimes even touching. One of the first quests I stumbled across in Kakariko
involved a man beholden to his cuccos. If you gather all 10 in the village, he’ll give
you 50 rupees. You can find a journal of various worries in the village that both hints at the
things you can help people out with, as well as read into people’s circumstances a bit more.
Cado, the man I helped recover Cuccos for, says: “Well, my wife left me today. The
last thing she said to me was: "What's more important, the Cuccos or me?!" I chose the Cuccos.” Once you’ve done enough quests in the village,
something will happen. This is Paya, by the way. She’s a fan favourite character due to her timid
nature and… intense journal entries discussing her crush on Link, and her routine involves keeping
watch over this Sheikah heirloom. Despite this unchanging routine, somehow, the heirloom
is stolen, and in continuing on this quest, you’ll learn that Dorian - one of the people
guarding the temple in which Impa and Paya reside - was involved with its disappearance. As
it turns out, Dorian was a spy for the Yiga Clan, who fell in love with a woman in Kakariko
Village and started a family. Once the clan discovered this, they killed his wife, and out of
fear for his children’s safety, he begrudgingly performs reconnaissance for the clan, which is
how they found out about the heirloom…and Link. Thankfully, you can end this cycle by defeating
the Yiga Blademaster and summoning the shrine. With this quest completed, Dorian can finally
have some peace of mind regarding his family. Oh, and you’ll finally be able to
learn where Paya’s birthmark is! But what of Dorian’s family? His
daughters are named Koko and Cottla, and on any given day - they’ll run around
the village doing different things. During the day, you can help Koko cook specific
recipes, which allows you to learn of meals you may not have thought possible - a testament to the
depth and creativity of this system. The further you get in helping Koko, the more you learn
about her deceased mother, but there are optional dialogues you can seek out from her and her sister
that expand more on their feelings. Because Dorian is naturally busy guarding the temple, Koko has
taken it upon herself to cook like her mother used to, but she is usually too exhausted to
stay awake in time for her father to come home. Though Dorian hasn’t told them about the death of
their mother, Koko has figured it out, and in the mornings she’ll stand by her grave and mourn.
It’s tough, but she says she has to be strong! Cottla is too young to understand what happened,
and at one point she’ll even say “Mommy’s hiding, but I’ll find her!” This is a deeply
heartfelt narrative that you don’t necessarily need to interact with at all,
as the rewards aren’t terribly important, but it’s an example of the storytelling
prowess of this game’s world. Need I remind you, all of this stuff comes from
one town. It is a sampling of any given town, and I didn’t even go over everything it has to
offer. Every single town has compelling stuff to dig into. Hateno is even bigger than Kakariko,
with a place to dye your armour different colours using materials, more armour to purchase, a place
to essentially respec by temporarily trading your stamina for hearts and vice versa for a small
fee, a place to upgrade your runes with Purah, and a handful of quests involving
the quaint lives of its residents. It also has my favourite quest reward in the game.
There’s a house that’s about to be torn down that you can purchase for a discounted price and 30
bundles of wood. After purchasing the house, you can decorate it, give it a bed, and best
of all - purchase places to store your weapons, shields and bows. It was so nice to
have a home base in a game this vast, and a customizable one at that - all in one
of the most tranquil areas in a Zelda game. The music is so peaceful and…optimistic,
so far removed from any danger or tragedy, and that’s something that I came to
appreciate the further I got in my journey. Gerudo Town is also calming, especially at
night. In fact, all of these areas seem to pop out at night, and I love wandering around in them.
Though the town is not exactly welcoming to voe, certain Gerudo vai have taken the necessary
steps to find one to fall in love with. You can actually sit in on a class that teaches
vai how to interact with and attract voe, which is about as amazing as you’d expect. You
can go sand seal racing to unlock a shrine, you can find a password to unearth a
secret armour set, you can stay at a spa wherein a Gerudo woman will comment on
your…muscular physique for a Hylian vai. If you solve enough of the problems in Gerudo
Town, Lady Riju will actually allow you to keep the Thunder Helm, a treasured Gerudo artifact.
As the name implies, it makes you invulnerable to electricity. Perfect if you want to
use metallic gear during thunderstorms. The towns are just an absolute delight to be in.
Zora’s Domain, as you’d expect, is an alluring blue wonderland, and I honestly think this game’s
depiction of this place is one of the best we’ve ever seen. The abstract art design is elegant,
reflective of the Zora themselves, and it’s a joy to just converse with people and learn about
the relationships there. Rito Village sits on a spire in the middle of a giant hole, and the town
is intentionally annoying for you to traverse, as the Rito can fly and have no need for stairs.
They even have balconies that they can take off from and fly away. It’s a cool concept for sure,
but what hit me hardest on my first playthrough of this game was its music. It carries with it
a touching rendition of the theme for Dragon Roost Island, from the game where the Rito made
their debut - my favourite game of all time. What I love most is not only how the quests and
interactions enrich the culture of each location, but also how the gameplay uniquely factors
into certain quests. Zora’s Domain has you swim downstream to find someone’s missing spouse,
as well as scour the path you entered the domain from originally to find Zora monuments, which
sheds light on the story of Zora’s Domain as you decipher them all, and it even hints at where
to find the Zora Helm! Rito Village has a quest that features a unique application for wind,
gives you a new recipe for a meal, and reveals a shrine when all is said and done. You use a
Korok Leaf to blow wind through these stones as you would when sailing, and you can play the tune
that the children are singing to make the shrine appear. The shrine itself even has a wind-based
platforming challenge, playing into the core theme of the area. Carrying that gourmet rock up that
hill and doing that good old Gut Check Challenge made me feel just as stubborn and hardheaded as
a Goron, and I think that’s all the designers wanted to go for, as a reprieve from some of
the tragedy and dark storylines in other towns. Of course, you also have the optional towns like
Lurelin Village, a lovely seaside retreat that also has its own culture and happenings to get
lost in. There’s also so much respect paid to Zelda’s history, even if it is chronologically
confusing. There are areas named after so many different places and characters across the entire
series. Linebeck Island is clustered together with a bunch of islands named after places from
Phantom Hourglass, Gorko Tunnel honours the Goron that destroyed save files around the world
when Skyward Sword came out, several bodies of water around Zora’s Domain honor the names of
beloved Zora from the Zelda series, like Ruto, Lulu and Ralis. There are also heartfelt tributes
to major areas when appropriate. The remains of Lon Lon Ranch by Hyrule Castle are haunting. You
expect to see Malon and Epona running around, or maybe Ingo standing in front of the horses…
but there’s nothing left here. Well, except for a Korok. But that’s the thing - investigating
this area still rewarded me with something! If you ever want to do more in the world, you
can learn a lot from just talking to people. Hearing rumours at stables and in towns,
reading about them, collecting quests, gathering info. There’s so much going on in
this world and so much history imbued into every facet of its design. It feels alive. Even if you
aren’t necessarily rewarded with meaningful items, it’s worth it just to see what you might
learn. You might gain practical rewards, but you also might gain an emotional
payoff as well. I always want to complete quests due to the potential of there being
something more, no matter what that may be. There are still so many details and
discoveries about these places to highlight, and I wish I could mention them all. Did you
know that Riju talks to her stuffed sand seal in her room at night? She has a lot of fears
and anxieties about being leader of the Gerudo, and you could completely miss this fun detail.
Some of the most memorable stories in the game can come from the most obscure of places, like
when I was able to find a horse resembling Princess Zelda’s near where a memory can be
recalled. This is a side quest you can receive, but because the whole of this game is nonlinear,
I was able to just stumble upon it and tame it. One of my absolute favourite storylines in the
game involves the fabled “Lord of the Mountain.” It is a profound tribute to someone that helmed
the team behind Breath of the Wild, as well as many other projects from the Wii to the Nintendo
Switch. The man that gave Nintendo a newfound sense of identity in the video game industry,
and put his own passion for the medium above all else - Satoru Iwata. He died from bile duct cancer
in 2015, and his death was mourned worldwide. When Breath of the Wild released in 2017, many quickly
discovered that the game paid tribute to Iwata “directly” through gameplay. On certain occasions,
you can observe an odd light emanating from a mountain west of Hyrule Field. In true Breath
of the Wild fashion, I think most of us would be immediately compelled to investigate. If you don’t
make it in time, however, the light disappears from the mountain, and nothing will be there. You
can find a shrine to warp there later, though. If you need information on when you might be able
to see that light again, you can ask Quince or Botrick at the nearby stable, the latter bearing
a striking resemblance to a certain someone… Once the light appears once more,
you can investigate the mountain. If you sneak in carefully, you can catch
a glimpse of the Lord of the Mountain, and even mount it if you get close enough. If
you read its compendium entry, you’ll learn that it is said to be a “reincarnation of a
sage that died on the lands it now protects.” It’s sometimes known by its other name…
Satori. Satori is a Japanese buddhist term for “awakening,” derived from the Japanese root
verb…Satoru, meaning “to know” or… “understand.” His spirit watches over “all animals that
make their homes in the forest,” so to speak. The most poignant and emotional detail about
the Lord of the Mountain is that if you try to register it at a stable, the stable will refuse.
The Lord of the Mountain is not a permanent mount. Its stats are unbelievably good, with practically
infinite stamina, but the Lord has to return to its duty. You can ride around and spend some time
with it before you inevitably have to move on. In this moment of realization, I stood
before the creature, fed it an apple, and took a brief pause before the Lord
of the Mountain rode off and faded away. Farewell… Satori. As you can probably guess, there are an abundance
of awesome discoveries to be made throughout the world, and those discoveries come in many forms.
These discoveries once again play into Breath of the Wild’s systems, creating an engrossing
and magical gameplay loop that games have seldom been able to replicate. To me, this
is how an open-world should be utilized. Link can wield a variety of weapons in this
game, but considering how prominently the Master Sword is featured in promotional material
(and the game’s logo), I initially found myself wondering where it was. The Master Sword is
usually found resting deep in the Lost Woods, or the Temple of Time, and it was something you
would eventually come across to further the story. That is not the case this time around; it’s an
optional discovery now. Seeing as the Temple of Time is now mostly rubble, that must mean
it’s in the Lost Woods, right? Well, where are the Lost Woods? Upon activating the Woodland
Tower, you will no doubt receive your answer. The Lost Woods has seen many interpretations over
the years, but Ocarina of Time has always reigned supreme for me. Players had to listen and follow
a now iconic melody in order to reach Saria, but it also had alternate paths that led to
secrets, as well as shortcuts that connected to other parts of Hyrule. And while other games
like Oracle of Seasons and Twilight Princess had their own memorable takes on the area, only
Breath of the Wild has been able to do something truly distinct that breaks away from what Ocarina
of Time accomplished. The Lost Woods’ mystifying atmosphere is led by this roundabout piano melody.
Upon entering, you’ll no doubt notice the wind blowing the flame from the torches in a specific
direction. Most people will innately think to follow in that direction, but eventually, you’ll
run out of torches. So, now what? Running off into the mist and taking a chance means getting swept
away and having to start over. With the flames conveying direction and the torches and wooden
spears you can find lying around, the game really wants you to figure this out. Just because you’ve
run out of fire to guide your way doesn’t mean you can’t make your own! If you light a torch or
wooden weapon on fire, you can actually follow the flame on that weapon to reach the Korok Forest!
The Lost Woods really bank on players realizing what needs to be done, which is intrinsic to Zelda
as a series. There are also, of course, treasures to be found if you veer off the path a bit, but
not too far, as you risk getting…well, lost. The Korok Forest is indeed the resting place of
the Master Sword, but you need to have a certain amount of health in order to pull the sword from
its pedestal. Just the notion of discovering the Master Sword on your own is incredible, and
what this game is all about. We’ll talk more about its utility later, but the Lost Woods and
the Master Sword are emblematic of an important distinction Breath of the Wild makes from its
contemporaries - simply making your way over to a marker or location designated on your map does
not mean immediate progress. To even reach that marker means conquering challenges first, and that
means exploration, combat and problem-solving that play into the game’s systems. And in the end -
there’s always more to each area you investigate. The Korok Forest is also home to the Korok
Trials, which upon completion reward you with three shrines, and when combined with the shrine
in the Korok Forest itself - that’s a full heart container or stamina wheel upgrade. One trial has
you following the illuminating gaze of Magnesis, as it highlights magnetic objects, and the game
uses that as a tool for navigation through the Lost Woods, as well as a couple of puzzles, like
finding a Rusty Shield in order to proceed, and then sailing over to an island to place a chest
in this tree’s mouth, because “the shield-eater’s brother stole it” from him. I’d been using
Magnesis near water to search for treasures already, and this was a really clever use of
that specific application. Another trial has you carrying brittle wooden gear to the end without
it catching fire or getting destroyed in some way, and the third has you following behind a lone
Korok as he attempts to brave the elements and complete the trial by himself. It’s just nice to
keep an eye on him while he summons his courage. Speaking of getting lost, you might notice
some of these miniature, maze-like landforms when you activate a tower. There are three of
these labyrinths across Hyrule - one in Hebra, one off the coast of Akkala,
and one in the Gerudo Highlands. They are giant mazes that have multiple paths to
take, a plethora of treasure, and they each have unique methods of being solved. You might need
to find paths through hidden nooks and crannies in the maze, or burn the bramble hiding in
certain crevasses. You might think to climb above the maze and survey each path from above,
or look at the minimap, and while that can help, it usually won’t make the solution apparent. It’s
just as much fun to dig into these areas as it is to solve them, and your reward for clearing each
of them is a piece of the Barbarian Armour set, with each piece having an attack up buff,
and they stack when worn all together. There are other surprises to be found, of
course. After you clear the shrine in the Akkala labyrinth, areas that were once gated off are made
accessible, and if you drop down into this hole, you can find a treasure chest with a Diamond
Circlet in it, which is great against Guardian attacks. Normally, crafting this piece of armour
at Isha’s shop in Gerudo Town is a tall order, as it requires diamonds. What a nice
bonus for clearing this labyrinth. The Barbarian Armour set is one of my favourites
in the game thanks to its stacking attack buffs, but like with any armour, you need to
upgrade it at a Fairy Fountain for it to stand a chance in the defense department.
How do you upgrade this particular set? Once again…you’ll have to wait and see. These labyrinths, as well as the Barbarian set,
can be traced back to an unseen and unspoken tribe called the Zonai. Players have to put
the pieces together about them on their own, and most might miss them altogether. Only the
supplementary material, mainly the “Creating a Champion” art book recounting the game’s
development, mention them outright. The only way you can learn of the connection is by noticing
their distinctive crest, which is also visible on the Barbarian set, and even some of the stones and
metal blocks that form Korok puzzles in the world. I love how this connection led to so
much discussion after the game came out, and piecing this together reminds me
of how people solved puzzles when the original Zelda came out. The best part? Senior
lead artist Makoto Yonezu stated in “Creating a Champion” that their name is an anagram
for the Japanese word for “puzzle” - nazo. To be honest, there are a lot of discoveries
to be made in Breath of the Wild, but the most prominent mechanic that drives these discoveries
are shrines- Wait, is that a DRAGON?!! Hold on, we need to talk about these things first. Though
you can stumble upon a quest in a mountain near Hateno Village that will reveal the existence of
the dragons to you, it’s more likely that you will just happen to spot one of them flying in the
distance, and that moment is one I will never forget. So what do dragons do? Well, if you
shoot one of them and depending on where your shot lands, you can obtain a shard of its horn
or claw, as well as a scale from its body. Not only are they valuable, but they are also required
to fully upgrade certain armour pieces, like the Barbarian Set, the Snow Boots, or the Champion’s
Tunic, which has a higher base defense value and can see enemy health values. This means that
if you really want that edge in combat, you can choose to seek out the dragons and memorize their
routes through Hyrule. Most NPCs in Breath of the Wild follow a routine, much like Majora’s Mask or
the residents of Windfall Island in Wind Waker. The dragons do as well, as they have to be
traveling somewhere, right? They aren’t just random occurrences with no meaning. At one point,
I was trying to solve a puzzle in Necluda, and I opened my rune menu just as something rumbled in
the water next to me. I turn to look and what do I see? It’s Farosh! I also learned from a quest
that Naydra will encircle the Spring of Wisdom at certain times of day, so I actually camped out
and waited for the thing to show up, and there it was! Same goes for Dinraal, I found the perfect
place and time of day to catch a glimpse of it. To me, the dragons combine the magic of
discovery with the importance of the game’s systems perfectly. They are a beautiful
example of the balance this game strikes. The way I chose to introduce dragons in
this video is representative of how it feels to explore in Breath of the Wild. You set
a course for one thing, find six other things, and suddenly you’re involving yourself in
a million different things in the world at once. There’s so much to do, and it’s
so much fun to find those things that I could be playing for hours… HOURS on
end without wanting to put it down. Anyway, as I was saying… Shrines are key in
driving a lot of Breath of the Wild’s foundation. As I touched upon in the Great Plateau, you
obtain Spirit Orbs from shrines, and four of these give you a choice between a new Heart
Container or an upgrade to your Stamina Wheel. In essence, these replace Pieces of Heart.
Shrines, as a method of managing non-linear progression - as well as implementing
discovery and satisfaction in exploration of the world - are a commendable effort, and I
believe they succeed in what they strive to be. In addition, there are a lot
of genuinely brilliant shrines, and shrine quests that utilize the world
in such thought-provoking, beautiful and memorable ways. I’ve already mentioned some in
this video, but let’s talk about a few more. One of the most famous series of shrines involves
the Dueling Peaks, which King Rhoam points you towards when talking of Kakariko Village. The
Dueling Peaks are these massive mountains that are home to a pair of shrines, and the solution
to one shrine depends on the pattern in the other, meaning you have to scale both peaks to claim
the Spirit Orbs. I think the designers really wanted players to attempt to climb these mountains
early on, as they are placed along the path to one of your earliest main objectives. Unlike the
mountain on the Great Plateau, there are rarely any footholds for you to regenerate your stamina.
You might be able to find an incline gentle enough to stand on, but that’s it. Even with high
amounts of stamina, it remains a challenge to scale these things. You’ll need to prepare
stamina-replenishing and overcharging meals, speed elixirs, and perhaps even other pieces of
the Climbing Set. You can also get a great look at Hyrule from the peak, and use your Sheikah Slate
to mark the things that you want to investigate. This entire sequence brilliantly exemplifies
how stamina is universally applied across all aspects of the game. Like I touched upon
earlier, it’s not just about running anymore, it’s used for climbing, charging attacks, pushing
objects, swimming - it is an ever-present mechanic that creates consistent engagement in traversal.
This is another reason why the general topography of Hyrule being so diverse is such a beautiful
thing. While the regions require players to strategize using the game’s systems, it also
asks them to utilize their stamina well. Anyway, the Dueling Peaks are great, but we’re
just getting started. Sometimes, the methods of discovering shrines are small. Maybe you just
follow your Sheikah Sensor and have no clue what to do next, but then you realize what needs to
be done, like that situation I mentioned with the shrine on the icy water, or this one where
the trees seemed to camouflage the bombable wall hidden on this mountain. Maybe it’ll be hidden
under a giant stone movable with a stasis launch. Other times, they’ll be a little more involved.
Here’s a great one: While riding through Lanayru Promenade, you may spot a peculiar orange light
reflecting on the water. There are a few ways to get over there (like sailing, climbing, or
creating a bridge with Cryonis), but if you manage to get behind the waterfall, you’ll find
that the orange reflection was from a shrine! One of my favourites memories of discovering
a shrine was when I found one in the depths of the Forgotten Temple. When you begin exploring,
it won’t take long to realize that it is filled with Guardians, being left forgotten for a reason.
As you’d expect, there are many ways to go about avoiding these Guardians, and my approach was
to use speed to my advantage. Thyphlo Ruins is another awesome example. You can find this area
just off the edge of Eldin, shrouded in a thick, dark fog. You have to navigate these ruins
in pitch darkness, with nothing but the items and abilities you possess guiding your way.
You can use torches, flameblades, fire rods, and even Daruk’s Protection and Urbosa’s Fury if
you have them. The beaks of the nearby statues will help point you in the right direction, and
you’ll even have to fight a Hinox at one point, steal the ball from its necklace, and carry
it over to the pedestal to access the shrine. Sometimes, you’ll find shrine quests that
will hint at how you can reveal them. We’ve talked about a few already, like the quest
with the singing Rito, but here are some more. The Ceremonial Song, taught to you by Laruta, has
lyrics that hint at how you could potentially reveal the shrine. If you decipher those lyrics
and thrust the Ceremonial Trident into the pedestal from above - boom. Shrine. Sometimes,
if you talk to Kass, he’ll give you some clues towards shrines, and revealing these ones are
some of the most satisfying rewards in the game. The Master of the Wind shrine is about returning
the disrupted flow of wind to the shrine’s altar, wherein you can glide over to it “on
wings of cloth and wood entwined.” Another one? “As light shines
from the northwest skies, From the tower’s shadow an arrow flies.
Pierce heaven’s light to reveal the prize.” I believe the nature of discovering these shrines
channel the spirit of Heart Pieces in previous games perfectly. Unlike other open-world games,
you’re not just walking over to a marker on your map. You have to discover them, earn them,
and solve problems using both your knowledge of the game and abstract thinking, which aligns
beautifully with the philosophies that make Zelda what it is. But what about those shrines
that are placed as warp points, or those that you can just stumble upon in the wild? The vast
majority of shrines are found in this manner. Some may require you to burn some bramble or
bomb a hole in the wall, but a lot of them can just be stumbled upon in the world, and
the real challenge takes place on the inside. Much like the trials on the Plateau, shrines
contain small-scale, self-contained little puzzle boxes involving your runes, combat and
problem-solving skills that are applicable across the game. You can’t climb around
everything like you can in the open-world. Some of these shrines can actually reveal new ways
of thinking about the world itself. “The Water Guides,” for example, not only shows you that
you can use Cryonis on waterfalls in addition to horizontal bodies of water to create staircases,
and you can use that knowledge to grab a treasure chest, as well as guide this giant ball. “Metal
Connections” asks you to create a path to the Spirit Orb with a few climbable metal boxes,
as well as a door. “Trial of Power” is a really cool way to combine multiple mechanics into one
cohesive puzzle - magnesis, stasis and even using motion controls to swing a hammer - all designed
to demonstrate the power of forward momentum. Some of the shrines play with the elements and
core themes surrounding each major city to build up to what you’ll be doing when you tackle the
Divine Beast. For example, some of the shrines in the Gerudo Desert utilize electricity
for their puzzles, like “Electric Path.” The shrine just outside Gerudo Town - “The
Whole Picture” - asks you to create a current of electricity along multiple paths to unlock
various treasures. You have barrels and giant boxes to cover multiple connection points, but
if you recall our discussion about the chemistry between elements in this game, you might also
think to create paths with your metal weapons as well. It’s how I’ve always solved this
shrine, and representative of some of the out-of-the-box thinking that we’ll discuss later.
Multiple shrines around Rito Village use wind, like this one based around using the paraglider
to platform and shoot arrows. Other shrines inform you of other mechanics and elements that appear
not just in Divine Beasts, but around the world. You might use water just as you would in Divine
Beast Vah Ruta, but you might also have to keep the flames alive while avoiding water, which is
the case in “Five Flames.” Some of them can be abstract by design. “Fateful Stars,” for example,
presents you with only a single clue: “Look to the stars for guidance. The constellations are the
key.” Though vague, you’re supposed to eventually realize that you need to count how many of each
constellation are on the wall in the distance. There’s even an optional series of
constellations once you open the first door that you can solve for a Knight’s
Claymore, a powerful two-handed weapon. As you can see there are some great shrines in
this game, and I’ve only selected a few examples. While I do feel the sense of discovery in
unearthing shrines is a huge reason the world is so fun to explore, I also feel that a lot of
these shrines you stumble upon end before they can truly begin. “Timing is Critical,” for example,
is a really bite-sized challenge. First, you roll a ball into a hole. Then, you roll it between two
platforms by stepping off of the switch. Lastly, you fling the ball into the hole with timing,
and that’s the shrine. There are alternative ways of using these platforms to open chests,
but it feels very compressed. Some of them are really only nuggets of an idea. “Sunken Scoop” is
pretty pathetic; you deliver a ball into a hole in this metal thing, then you place the ball on the
cage first before putting the bowl itself on the switch, and the shrine is solved. That’s it, and
if you think shrines would get more difficult the further out you explore in the world, you wouldn’t
always be right. “Stalled Flight” is up in Eldin, and all you really have to do is launch on top of
the stone that powers the gate, and freeze it once it reaches the top. Then, you’re done! I found
myself saying “...really? That was it?” after so many shrines in this game. “Metal Makes a Path” is
just about you pushing things out of the way with a giant metal ball. “Two Orbs to Guide You” is
just about fetching one orb with stasis in order to grab another, and that’s pretty much it. Far
too many shrines are cut short in this manner. The apparatus shrines are by far the most
gimmicky challenges, essentially just being gyro-based puzzles where you have to tilt
a platform or use physics to play golf. On this particular shrine, I always just
flip the platform over and fling the ball onto the platform in order to reach
the finish line. Which reminds me… Oftentimes, finding your own solutions to
shrines through emergent gameplay can be more entertaining than some of the intended
solutions. The game has always encouraged you to find these solutions, but in shrines
- where problem-solving is far more focused and constrained to specific mechanics - it is
immensely satisfying to create your own path. The runes in this game are so malleable and
so widely applicable that you can do basically anything with them if you choose to think outside
of the box. Take the shrine “Shift and Lock” for example. You’re supposed to rest this metal box
on the platforms above to give yourself some time to retrieve the key by walking the box all the way
up, but I instead just used stasis before it could cut off my access from the chest, stole the key,
and ran to the locked door before it slammed down. In “Directing the Wind” and “Red Giveaway,” I
stood where the moving platform would elevate me when the orb was to fall into the pit,
and then I just knocked the ball in with this metal box using magnesis. Both shrines
solved, no need to use the wind at all! Breath of the Wild’s runes were crafted for
problem-solving in an open-ended world, therefore they are also useful for crafting your own
solutions in shrines. Emergent gameplay in Breath of the Wild doesn’t end there, though. I’ve jumped
and begun a shield surf to double jump over to places I shouldn’t have been able to reach plenty
of times, and I’ve done my fair share of wind bombing to fling myself across the world. I’ve
even made a flying machine to soar high in the sky and across part of the world. Aonuma actually
saw a video of someone doing this shortly after the game came out, and he and the development
team were left speechless, but they always intended to give players this kind of freedom. To
me, shrines have kind of taken on a second life because of this manner of thinking. Even when the
intended solutions don’t really impress, you can sometimes create your own solutions instead. And
I intend to find more of my own as time goes on. I think one could argue that the compressed
length and design of shrines is intentional, as they are a puzzling reprieve from the rest
of the game, and that’s fair. I agree with that sentiment to an extent. But I don’t always find
the focused puzzle boxes of shrines nearly as interesting as some of the organic problem-solving
you can run into in the open-world, nor do the intended solutions always fully satisfy.
Ultimately, my favourite shrines are still the ones that are rewards for completing integrated
puzzles in the world. These instances feel more genuine and seamlessly fit into the world itself,
just as Heart Pieces in previous Zelda games did. On top of that, a lot of the shrine
quests that I mentioned earlier just feel significantly more fleshed out than
the truncated puzzles of most shrines. Allow me to demonstrate one last time why I
think integrating the philosophies of shrines into the world is the better option with my
favourite shrine quest in the game. You may spot a small island in the southeast corner
of your map known as Eventide, and if you make the journey out there by sailing or paragliding
over, you’ll be stripped of all of your equipment. You’ll be stranded, and you’ll find yourself in
a similar position to where you were on the Great Plateau. You are starting from scratch. Granted,
you’ll have all of your hearts and stamina, but nothing else. You have to scavenge for food
and weapons, and bring each ball to a pedestal to reveal the shrine. This will take you through
enemy camps, a boss fight, and you’ll have to use your runes both to solve problems and
fight enemies to preserve your resources. Finding this shrine quest and solving it was one
of the most rewarding and subversive moments on my initial playthrough, and it’s one I’ll never
forget. It serves as a prime example of the beautiful sense of discovery in Breath of the
Wild, as well as the incredible weight of its systems. It was so good, in fact, that it became
the basis for the major content in the first DLC Pack - the Trial of the Sword. This entire quest
is built on the gameplay of Eventide Island, and it’s amazing. You work your way up
from small enemy camps, to boss fights, to harsh environmental effects that force you to
save ingredients and cook when you get the chance, all the way to a room filled with the toughest
enemies in the entire game. Along the way, you have to scavenge for items, strategize with your
ingredients and armour, and conserve your weapons, and if you die at any point of each phase, you
have to start that phase over again. It rocks. If all shrines were implemented in the
world itself in the same manner as Eventide, or Thyphlo Ruins, or that shrine behind
the waterfall, or the Dueling Peaks, or the Forgotten Temple, or the many shrines
hinted at through Kass’ songs like threading the needle through the rings on this grassy plain,
or the tower’s shadow, or creating a path with the wind - this would have been perfect. It’s already
a joy to discover shrines themselves no matter how you go about exploring the world, but often the
puzzle-solving is confined, their potential is cut short, and it doesn’t always feel like there’s
a seamless connection between Hyrule and shrines. Really though, the worst thing a shrine can be
is a test of strength. Not because they are a bad idea in isolation, but because there are
far too many of them in the world. 20 of the game’s 120 shrines are tests of strength,
with some being right next to each other. In every test of strength, you’ll
have to take down a small Guardian that wields a few ancient weapons.
They come in three difficulty levels, and they all largely play out in the exact same
way. These tests of strength shed light on both the compelling strengths and glaring weaknesses
of combat, and the systems in place to balance it will lead into an even bigger discussion
about this game’s identity as a Zelda game. Like any 3D Zelda, you can choose to lock on
to an enemy with ZL. You have a basic combo, a spin attack, and a jumping slash. This, however,
is where the similarities fizzle out. Just as the Great Plateau aims to teach you, you can also
use runes in combat. You can use magnesis to turn metal objects nearby into full-on weapons,
you can shoot explosive barrels, stealthily kill enemies - you can even use your upgraded stasis
rune to freeze them, hit them a bunch of times, and then unfreeze them to watch them take all of
the damage at once and die before they’ve even realized what’s happened to them. Sometimes, a
well-placed bomb is all you need to kill an enemy. There are many approaches to combat that make
for dynamic scenarios, but let’s focus on the many times when close-quarters encounters are
forced. If you dodge at just the right time, you can go into a flurry rush and execute
a fast series of attacks for a short period of time. It takes some practice to
memorize an enemy’s attack patterns, but it’s always emphatically satisfying to
find an opening in those patterns and go wild. You can also parry enemy attacks like you could in
Skyward Sword with your shield. This could mean a sword swing, or a Guardian’s beam. Deflecting
a Guardian beam is such a triumphant feeling, and you can actually master it by the end
of your playthrough. Here’s how it works: When a Guardian is charging its laser, the pitch
will increase when it’s about to fire. Then, you’ll hear a distinct sound.
This is a crucial telegraph, and with experience you’ll learn where you’ll
need to be standing so that you can use that audio cue to time your parry. And by experience,
I mean destroying your shields and dying. A lot. But once you land it for the first time,
it feels amazing. A parried laser kills most Guardians instantly, aside from the walking
ones, and eventually - that audio cue, as well as the distance between the two of you - will make
parrying them feel like second nature. It’s one of the toughest things to nail down perfectly,
but it is a vital skill when storming Hyrule Castle. It’s something that develops with good
old-fashioned experience, as is weapon strategy. As I’ve touched upon already, you can use
many weapons in Breath of the Wild. They are typically divided in three classes - one-handed,
two-handed and long-range. You also have special weapons like the elemental rods that allow you to
fling magic attacks at people, and boomerangs that you can throw and catch as they come back.
Bows are also a collectible weapon type, with arrows being something you have to carefully
conserve, purchase when necessary, and search for. Each of the three weapon types have their
own charged attack - the one-handed weapons have the traditional spin, the two-handed weapons
continually spin in accordance with your stamina meter, which I absolutely love using to deal
consistent damage. Royal Claymore, my beloved. The long-range weapons are fast and a charged
attack will deal a bunch of rapid-fire strikes, which I also like to take advantage of.
There are also swords and spears with elements fused into them, and you can use
them to solve puzzles when necessary. You can even use them to keep yourself warm or cool
depending on the region, as I mentioned earlier. If you find you have too many weapons at once, you can find Koroks in the overworld to
gather seeds and upgrade your weapon, shield and bow stashes with Hestu. Korok puzzles
are abundant in the overworld and provide yet another way to interact with and decipher the
world around you. There’s 900 seeds to be found, and while I wouldn’t recommend you try to find
them all - they are another layer to exploration of the open-world. The nature of their puzzles
get you thinking about patterns in the world that may have a Korok hiding as a reward, and
some of the Koroks are actually pretty unique. Being able to collect weapons and
find them in treasure chests is a massive departure from previous Zelda
games; that should go without saying. But part of the reason they do this is to add
yet ANOTHER layer to constant exploration. Filling the open-world with distinct weapon types
is something that has been done in multiple games, but once you have the weapons you’d like to keep,
weapons begin to lose a lot of their purpose. That’s why weapons can break. Weapons have an
unseen durability value that only becomes apparent when the game warns you that they’re about to
explode. Some are more brittle than others, and you can get clued into that based on a
weapon’s description. Once they’re about to break, you can throw them at an enemy to deal a critical
hit, as if you’ve just shot them in the head. Now… I am well aware that this mechanic is
incredibly divisive. In the survey I ran in preparation for this video, I asked people what
they thought of weapon durability in Breath of the Wild, and the responses were all over the
place. I can’t really remain on the fence about this issue. I have to take a firm stance,
and to be honest, I think weapon durability is essential to this game’s combat loop, and
Breath of the Wild wouldn’t be the same game without it. I would even go so far as to say
that I think it is a fun mechanic. That said, it does introduce serious problems, and I’ve heard
very valid complaints about it over the years. By making weapons an expendable resource
and guaranteeing that weapons will only last if used conservatively, players are
constantly forced to think about which weapons they want to break first, and which
weapons are worth using on specific enemies, based on the weapon’s strength and an
enemy’s health. Bows have higher durability, but they require an external resource - arrows
- in order to be used often. This means they need to constantly be looking for new weapons,
which involves them further in exploration and seeking out treasure chests in shrines and the
open-world. It is not only an ever-present way of managing combat strategy, but also an ever-present
reason to explore, and it’s an admirable effort. I went on to master this mechanic, eventually
running into the issue where I had too many great weapons and had to choose which ones to
do away with before picking up the next one. If you didn’t have this problem, and were
instead faced with the problem of running out of weapons to use on enemies… that’s a
skill issue. I don’t know what else to say. Also, weapon strategy doesn’t always mean “which
weapon should I use?” It also means “how can I avoid using weapons altogether?” There are many
ways to avoid weapons breaking, from dividing your damage between all of your weapons to
using runes and the environment instead. That said… There are problems. In combat, you
definitely want to find a good balance between spending weapons and receiving them. Breaking
weapons to kill enemies in the hope of finding new ones afterwards (preferably more powerful ones),
in addition to the primary rewards that you’re going out of your way to retrieve, like materials,
rupees, or sometimes even a Spirit Orb. When this works, it adds a strategic layer to Breath of
the Wild’s combat system. However, the further you progress in the game, the less reason there is
to raid enemy camps and fortresses for materials, because any weapons or materials you retrieve in
there won’t be worth breaking your weapons for. As such, it becomes much easier and smarter
to just avoid those scenarios altogether. In Master Mode, this issue is accentuated, as
enemy health will regenerate if you aren’t dealing damage often enough, making combat even harder to
recommend when otherwise avoidable. This is where the tests of strength come back into play. Because
you have no choice but to fight these Guardians raw, you will inevitably start breaking your
weapons, and this becomes even more of an issue when taking on the tougher tests. Your rewards
as compensation will usually be brittle ancient weapons that break quickly, as well as an item or
weapon in a chest that ultimately doesn’t compare to the resources you spent killing the Guardian.
Sometimes, you’ll find some cool rewards, and the Spirit Orb is always worth fighting for,
but these kinds of scenarios are why I think people ended up hating the durability system
most, and I can’t say I blame them for that. It’s worth talking about where the Master Sword
fits in here. While the Champion weapons you receive for freeing each Divine Beast can
be repaired in their respective villages, the Master Sword is unique, as it is the only
weapon in the game that does not break. You might think that this breaks the durability system in
half, but their solution was for it to require a recharge time after extensive use. The durability
system has essentially mandated that the Master Sword - the legendary blade of evil’s bane -
require a nap in between uses. This didn’t sit right with everyone, and with its mid-range attack
stat - I didn’t always rely on it to take care of more powerful enemies. It is still a great weapon
because it can always come back, and it even becomes extremely overpowered when challenging
the Divine Beasts and Hyrule Castle thanks to its doubled damage value, but it ultimately felt
like just another breakable weapon in the end. If anything, the thing that disappointed me most
is how this game’s survivalist mechanics seem to dwindle as you proceed further into the game.
Early on, you’ll need to remember what the Great Plateau taught you and scavenge for ingredients
and weapons. The notion that your effectiveness in combat was limited without thorough exploration
was a really engaging way to give that exploration purpose. However, as the amount of weapons you
can carry increases and you have more materials and meals than you know what to do with, that
nervous survivalist philosophy just fades away. It also probably doesn’t help that
any “Hearty” ingredients are busted. You just throw a Hearty Truffle
in with some herbs or whatever, and you have a full recovery on your hands,
plus some extras. Because of all of this, that purposeful exploration begins
to carry less weight than it used to. With all of that being said… There
are encounters that manage to take great advantage of combat and weapon
durability, whilst still tying into the core theme of exploration that drives the
entirety of Breath of the Wild’s design. You know where that balance between spending and
receiving weapons I discussed works best? Lynels. In the original Zelda, Lynels were the
most fearsome enemies in the overworld. They could shred your health down in a
split second if you weren’t careful. You had to prepare before facing them, memorize
their movements, and use items effectively. Sometimes, they’d even block the way to a
crucial upgrade, like a new sword. Lynels appeared on rare occasions throughout the series,
but they never really carried the same weight as the original game. They were well utilized in
A Link to the Past as they blocked your path through Death Mountain, but it wasn’t a staggering
discovery when you’d come across one. Not only do Lynels make their 3D Zelda debut in Breath of the
Wild, but they are also at their absolute best. Much like other boss enemies, shrines, quests,
Koroks, or any other discovery - they are secrets to be found as you explore. Though it is possible
to sneak up on them, if one spots you from afar, it will simply stare you down and wait for you
to make the first move, as if to say “Come at me, if you dare.” You can back down if you’d like, and
return another time to challenge the beast, but as soon as you get close or begin to attack, the
Lynel will retaliate, and the battle will begin. If their hulking size and health bars weren’t
enough, these things deal a ton of damage, even with high-level armour and defense
buffs. It also has a wealth of attacks up close and from a distance, it can roar like
a lion, and it can sprint like a cheetah. In order to kill this thing, you
need to land critical hits with bows, dodge its attacks perfectly to initiate flurry
rushes, and strategize with your weapons so that you can deal as much damage as possible when
you find an opening. You can use runes to your advantage to bomb and freeze them as well, which
I have taken full advantage of in most fights. The rush of trying to bring this thing’s
health down at every possible opportunity, whilst dodging and parrying its attacks, is an
unprecedented feeling. I’ll never get tired of it. Your rewards for bringing a Lynel down are almost
always well worth the effort. Its guts and body parts are valuable armour upgrade ingredients,
and fetch a great price at shops. Its weapons, however, are the real stars of the show.
The Savage Lynel weapons are some of my favourites in the entire game, not just
in appearance, but also in practice. The Mighty and Savage Lynel Bows alone are worth
it, as they fire three arrows at a time, multiplying its damage value by three when all
shots land. The Savage Lynel Swords and Crushers are also some of my favourite weapons in the
entire game thanks to their high damage values, and the shields they possess can also injure
enemies quite a lot when you parry. All in all, you really can’t go wrong fighting these things,
and when the blood moon comes around to respawn enemies and bosses, you can come back and
fight them again whenever you like. This is why the Zora’s Domain quest brings you toward
a Lynel as you collect Shock Arrows. They really want you to engage with these beasts, not just to
challenge yourself, but also to reap the rewards. Another thing - Breath of the Wild has a hidden
difficulty scaling system that decides what weapon drops you receive and which enemies appear in
the world, which is a small but effective and necessary way of dynamically managing difficulty
progression in a non-linear game of this scope. The system is governed by points, which you
receive based on how many of each type of enemy you defeat, and tougher enemies garner
you more points. This also applies to bosses, and…you guessed it - Lynels. You’ll go
from Blue and Red-Maned Lynels to Silver and Gold-Maned Lynels, and their health bars
and damage will only increase. To compensate, the game will begin to apply ridiculous modifiers
to your weapon drops, like “Durability Up Plus” and attack buffs and whatnot. Therefore, tougher
Lynels mean better rewards, and if you’re up to the task - it’s so much fun. Lynel hunting is one
of my favourite ways to accumulate weapons and rupees late game. The Lynel pitted near the Great
Plateau in the Colosseum Ruins is not only a fun discovery, but it can also lead to you finding
multiple weapons littered across the colosseum, which is helpful if you’re struggling with
your weapons breaking. One of many examples of how using weapons as a resource
just meant more rewarding gameplay. Lynels exemplify the precision, strategy and
unorthodox thinking that you can employ in Breath of the Wild’s deceptively simple combat
system, and they also yield fantastic rewards for your troubles. It’s so much fun to mess around
in combat that people have been able to discover all kinds of advanced techniques. While I won’t be
breaking all of this stuff down (as even I don’t fully understand it), people who do understand
have been able to create artful combat clips, all while killing Lynels as fast as possible.
This game’s life has carried on six years after release, with people making new discoveries all
the time. This game enabled its players to play however they like, and they took that to heart.
In every sense of the word, this game truly is the most “open-ended” Zelda game we’ve ever had,
and naturally - this also applies to the dungeons. From A Link to the Past onwards, dungeons
in The Legend of Zelda were a series of ideas that gradually became interconnected and
more challenging, presenting you with problems that you later learn to interact with in
a new way thanks to the dungeon’s central item. A progression in ideas is precisely why
they have always felt so compelling to solve. For example - the Great Deku Tree has you jump
from a great height to break through a cobweb, and then light torches with a Deku Stick, and
burn cobwebs that might be blocking your path. But then - uh, oh. You have a cobweb
that you can’t break from above. So, you find a nearby torch, stand on the cobweb and
fall through! In the Earth Temple in Wind Waker, you use Medli’s harp to reflect light and
move mirrors to light the way, but then you get the Mirror Shield, giving you even more
control over the light and involving you in more complex puzzles. These are why dungeons have
always been a favourite design element for many, and their linear structure would be difficult
to break away from. A Link Between Worlds allows you to access dungeons in any order
thanks to its item rental system, but as I mentioned earlier - this means dungeons could
only consider a single item in problem-solving. Breath of the Wild takes things a step further by
making dungeons themselves completely non-linear. From what I discussed with Hyrule Castle’s
structure, this may seem like a promising idea, but this game’s actual substitute for
dungeons are designed much differently. Enter the Divine Beasts. These majestic,
mechanical creatures were built by the Sheikah millennia ago, but were possessed by
Calamity Ganon, and the blights that Ganon created were used to foil and kill the
four Champions that piloted the beasts. Scaling giant monsters, coupled with a
universal stamina mechanic? This sounds a lot like Shadow of the Colossus, doesn’t it?
You’d think that this would be the perfect way to incorporate that freeform exploration
and gameplay Hyrule Castle features, as you could explore and solve problems as
they come. In practice, I think the Divine Beasts have some cool ideas, but they are
devoid of strong theming in level design. There’s a shrine called “Build and Release” that
asks you to use stasis and the physics engine to create paths through multiple areas. It’s a
fine enough shrine, but it is really only a slight variation on the applications for stasis.
The problem is - runes ARE your items this time around. They are extremely versatile and fun items
to experiment with, but there isn’t a whole lot you can introduce and build upon when they serve
as your only items across the entire game. That shrine - Build and Release - becomes the basis
for one of the five major puzzles in Divine Beast Vah Medoh. This is a theme throughout pretty
much all of the puzzles in the Divine Beasts. The “dungeons” are essentially shrine puzzles
that play into the central mechanic of each Divine Beast. Vah Naboris has those electricity
puzzles from shrines, Vah Ruta has you use water to solve puzzles with your runes, Vah
Rudania uses fire, and Vah Medoh uses wind. Things get more interesting thanks
to how you can pilot the Beasts. In Vah Medoh, you can tilt the dungeon left and
right. In Vah Ruta, you can change the position of its trunk to pour water into different
parts of the dungeon. In Vah Rudania, you can flip the dungeon on its side. Vah Naboris
has the most complex moving layout of them all, as you can rotate three pieces of the beast’s
midsection a full 360 degrees to solve puzzles. All the while, you’ll have to avoid and take
care of the malice that has infected each beast, just as you would in Hyrule Castle. They lean
into the core elements of each region to put a new twist on how you solve these puzzles, in addition
to being able to move the dungeons themselves. That being said… the issue I brought up with the
central puzzles just feeling like mere extensions of a shrine plagues each of the Divine Beasts.
Simply giving players a way to tilt ‘n tumble around these things is not enough to flesh out
what are essentially just five shrine puzzles per dungeon, with a new mechanic altering
the way you play with the physics engine. The most underwhelming puzzles of them all don’t
actually play into the shrine concepts at all, instead simply involving a shift in gravity
and momentum to reach a terminal. Vah Medoh and Vah Rudania do this, and I couldn’t help
but feel disappointed. I think the biggest issue overall is that all of the puzzles are
completely disconnected from one another. Sure, the central mechanic in each Divine
Beasts governs how you reach and solve them, but these puzzle concepts never
intersect as they would in a previous Zelda dungeon. The areas are often their
own, isolated rooms; there’s no cohesion. The dungeon bosses are far more combat-centric
than your typical Zelda boss, aside from Fireblight Ganon, which asks you to throw a
bomb during one of its charging sequences to create an opening. They all use the elements of
each region to create unique combat scenarios, like gliding through the air to fight Windblight
Ganon, or creating platforms on the water to fight Waterblight Ganon. They were fun, but my
favourite by far was Thunderblight Ganon. Not only does it move at the speed of lightning to
attack you, forcing you to either parry or dodge to trigger a Flurry Rush and get some damage in,
but it also has a neat puzzle where it uses metal poles as lightning rods to overwhelm you. You’re
supposed to realize that you can use magnesis to turn its own weapons against it as it attempts
to shock you, and I always loved that moment. To sum the Divine Beasts up, from a gameplay
perspective - they’re fine. Shrines could already feel like small samplings of ideas that
didn’t always reach their fullest potential, and these dungeons accentuate that issue,
even if they are technically more involved. Make no mistake, though - there is fun to be had
here. While the puzzles can be underwhelming due to their resemblance to shrines, they can also be
pretty fun, in spite of everything. It’s not like every shrine in the overworld was disappointing
or anything, a lot of them were really cool, and puzzles utilizing those distinct Divine
Beast elements just make the good examples that much better. I think Vah Naboris is by far
the best Divine Beast of the bunch, thanks to the complexity of its central mechanic, and how the
electricity currents you create are contingent on the positioning of the beast’s insides - therefore
actually making separate areas of the dungeon come together. It’s a lot of fun to solve, and I
enjoy using that mechanic to reach different areas as well. Running atop Vah Ruta’s trunk and
ascending with it as you change its position, as well as using that trajectory to have it pour
water in the dungeon to solve puzzles was pretty satisfying. But I don’t think this was the way
to design nonlinear dungeons, nor did they always feel like truly fleshed-out interpretations
of the mechanics we’ve already been using. I’ve always thought that the dungeons would’ve
felt more impactful if they all leaned into the incredible and freeform design of Hyrule
Castle, but on the other hand - if every dungeon was designed like Hyrule Castle, then the
castle itself would lose a lot of its own impact. I think the Divine Beasts were a learning
experience for the team, and while I admire the effort on display - there has to be another way to
go about creating dungeons for a game like this. Just like the nature of Breath of the Wild
itself, there are always multiple approaches to be discovered, and we can only wonder how feedback on
the Divine Beasts will inspire them going forward. The dungeon at the end of the Champion’s Ballad
DLC, though not technically a “beast,” fixes a recurring issue throughout every Divine Beast.
All of its terminals and puzzles connect back to the central mechanic, and they intersect,
making it feel more cohesive and seamless. That central series of cogs connects
to different parts of the dungeon, and you can use the controls to move
those different parts in several ways. This is why Vah Naboris was the best of the
bunch to me, and why all of the Divine Beasts should’ve had this sense of interconnectedness.
It even plays with all of the runes and elements that were once individual to each beast, as a
culmination of everything you’ve learned. Also, the final boss of this dungeon, Monk Maz Koshia,
is actually more fun to fight than Calamity Ganon. There’s so much going on in this fight, and
all the while his size is comparable to yours, so it feels like an extension of the everyday
enemies you’ve fought up to now. That is, until he grows, and then it’s like fighting a
Hinox. It mixes combat and puzzle-solving into a beautifully designed boss fight that represents
everything you’d fought up to that point. And your reward? A freaking motorcycle. I think
this is probably as far as I’m willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief when it comes to art
design in Zelda. This thing just barely fits into the setting. I mean, it’s a motorcycle!
Look at it! It even makes motorcycle sounds! Still, I appreciate the inclusion of
something like this because it’s as if the designers knew that you’d be done with
the game by reaching this point. The game engine can barely keep up with the speed
of this thing, and I think they knew that. It’s a shame that I don’t think the Divine Beasts
are always amazing in terms of design, because from an emotional perspective, they’re absolutely
brilliant. In proceeding with each main quest, you’ll recall Link’s memories of the Champions
that piloted the Divine Beasts - Urbosa, Mipha, Revali, and Daruk. You’ll also be able to team up
with their successors to take back the beasts and observe how Hyrule has been able to get by 100
years after the Great Calamity. While you don’t get to spend a lot of time learning about them as
they died long ago, you can foster a connection with them through what you do learn about them
in cutscenes, the various journals, as well as supplementary material and stories you can find
in the towns they once called home, and through the stories the Divine Beasts themselves
can tell. Here’s what I’m talking about: Daruk was a friend and reliable comrade to
Link, and his positive attitude is inspiring, just as it was with Darunia in Ocarina of
Time. The entirety of Vah Rudania’s music does not reflect that he met a tragic end
- he likely died protecting what he loved, and met his end with a smile on his face. Each of the Divine Beasts also have an SOS
signal embedded into the music accompanying them. Some persist throughout the music,
others become more audible at specific points. Urbosa was very protective over
Zelda, caring for her like a sister, just as she was protective over her own
people. She was a fierce warrior when alive, but her SOS signal is drawn out and prominent
throughout the entirety of Vah Naboris’ music. The music starts with a harsh piano hit, and
despite the instrumentation using her melody, it is also somber throughout. She likely
suffered the most gruesome fate of all the Champions, and Vah Naboris’ cry adds to
the unsettling nature of this revelation. From what we learn about Revali, he’s kind of a jerk and is quite clearly jealous
of Link’s position as appointed knight to Princess Zelda. He loves to flaunt the one thing he
has over Link - the fact that he can fly. As you gradually clear Divine Beast Vah Medoh,
the music picks up more and more instrumentation, and only later does the SOS signal become audible. This can be interpreted as Revali finally
admitting that he needed help. Link’s help. My favourite of these arcs
told through music is Mipha’s. She was renowned for her kindness,
and was a childhood friend of Link. She very clearly has feelings for him in the
material we’ve seen, and that Zora armour I mentioned you could obtain was meant to be
given to the man a Zora princess is sworn to marry. She intended to give it to Link, but
she never got that chance before she was killed. Upon investigating Divine Beast Vah Ruta, you’ll
quickly notice how tragic the piano melody is, and as you activate the first terminal - the
true nature of the composition takes shape. Not only does it play into the tragedy that poor
Mipha faced in that beast, it also seems to paint a picture of worry. The further Link gets in
controlling the Divine Beast and the closer he gets to facing Waterblight Ganon, the more
hurried and frantic the music becomes. It was a deeply emotional journey through this Divine
Beast, and even after you kill Waterblight Ganon, Mipha takes a moment to mourn the fact that she
will never be able to be with Link and spend time with him as they did in childhood, but she is
content now that Link has been able to prevail. Though you really don’t get to form a close
connection with the Champions as their narrative took place prior to the events of the game, you
can still feel the weight of their impact in the world itself, and the Divine Beasts that you
conquer. I feel the Divine Beasts are redeemed due to their conclusion of each Champion’s arc, and
the abilities you are granted after freeing them. You get Mipha’s Grace, which revives you once when
your health is depleted. Daruk’s Protection gives you three free deflections if you take damage when
holding ZL, which is fantastic when you make a mistake and gives you a free opening. Urbosa’s
Fury is so cool, just like Urbosa herself. If you overcharge an attack, you can use one of
three charges to shock a wide radius around you, damaging and stunning every enemy in its range.
While all of these are incredible, my favourite ability is without question Revali’s Gale. It is
so useful that I always go for it first on repeat playthroughs. When you hold the jump button, you
can create a powerful, upward gust of wind that will carry you up into the sky. You can use it
three times before it has to recharge. The cool thing about it is that although it is very useful,
it doesn’t go too high, and therefore does not trivialize climbing or scaling tall mountains
and buildings. All in all, not only are these abilities awesome tools in exploration and combat,
but it’s also nice to have a piece of those fallen Champions with you throughout the rest of your
adventure. Gone, but never truly forgotten. Ultimately, I think the adventures leading up
to the Divine Beasts themselves, the regions, as well as the sidequests and shrines that
make use of a region’s identity are far more memorable utilizations of the mechanics
and ideas that drive each Divine Beast, and the lack of impactful dungeons
unquestionably left a sour taste in mouths of a few Zelda fans. Dungeons
are core to progression in a Zelda game, they are central to giving players new ways of
thinking about and interacting with the world around them. When the dungeons in Breath of the
Wild don’t really even resemble that philosophy, that can also bring into question other aspects of
the game as a “Zelda” game. I’ve heard arguments made against those disconnected puzzle rooms we
call “shrines,” and the same goes for the runes we receive at the beginning of the game
and use throughout in place of gradually received dungeon items, as well as the nonlinear
open-world and freeform structure. Therefore, I want to pose a question that has been asked by
many, and one I believe I’ve found my answer to: Is Breath of the Wild not a Zelda game? Despite its problems, I believe Breath of the Wild
solves most problems open-world games have had for many years. Every single mechanic it implements
it does so in the pursuit of player freedom and creativity, cutting free the chains that have
held the genre back for so many years. Instead of setting a linear adventure in an open-world,
it opens the adventure up and spreads everything out so that you can forge your own path. Its
world is not made up of material supplementary to the game - it IS the game. Instead of leaning
on experience points and RPG mechanics to manage non-linear, player-chosen progression, it instead
tucks a simple difficulty scaling mechanic into the background and implements systems that ask
players to… think. Cooking, weapons, armour, status effects, the economy, shrines, quests from
the people of Hyrule, the puzzles that follow, and just general exploration - they all ask the player
to think. The game is a world built on solving problems, which is why I believe it is closer
to the spirit of Zelda than some like to argue. Obviously, Breath of the Wild doesn’t overtly
resemble previous Zelda games. It does away with a lot of those series conventions. The
Divine Beasts observably suffer because of this. Shrines all universally test similar concepts
because those runes are your items. There aren’t any keys to certain areas in the world that you
acquire through the progression of the main story like, say, realizing you need the Hookshot in a
previous area after walking past it so many times, therefore a progression in ideas and a curated
experience for the player is far more difficult to craft by hand. A linear structure isn’t
less valuable than a nonlinear structure; it always depends on the kind of
game that you’re looking to make, and clearly the Zelda team wanted
to try something different. There has been a question of whether or not this
kind of game could potentially coexist with how Zelda used to be designed, and while that would
be nice, I’m certain the team is just…done with making Zelda games in that style, and I doubt
they’d want to give 3D Zelda to anyone else. I know a handful of people that have said Breath
of the Wild doesn’t really offer what they personally look for in a Zelda game, and that’s
fair. I can’t really convince them otherwise. I mean, when I first played Skyward Sword, I
felt the same way, even if things are different now. I also don’t think that Breath of the
Wild is a perfect game by any stretch of the imagination. But personally, I’ve always felt
that Zelda has never been stuck in one place, even if it carries the same conventions each time. The fact that each game has its own unique draw
and its own spin on those conventions is precisely why I love this series so much. Think about how
different Majora’s Mask was from Ocarina of Time in design and structure, or how different
The Wind Waker was from Majora, and so on. This is why it irks me when people outright say
that Breath of the Wild is “not a Zelda game.” The original game was so impactful because of
the satisfaction it would elicit when players discovered things and solved problems. The
rest of the series used those established conventions we all know by now to elicit the
same feelings in different ways. Even if those conventions are what defined Zelda for you prior
to Breath of the Wild, that does not inherently mean Breath of the Wild is not a Zelda game.
The most important distinction here is that problem-solving in previous games was contingent
on that moment of realization; that feeling when you recognize what is needed to solve a problem.
Breath of the Wild may be nonlinear by design, and it may lack that satisfying sense of
progression through items you get from each dungeon, but it is built on these moments,
even if they are presented differently. Breath of the Wild has the sense of
discovery that made Zelda famous, and has been carried on through each game in the
series. Those moments when you discover shrines, towns, dragons, Lynels, and utilize everything
available to you from those discoveries to get stronger - is that not at all like Zelda?
The shadow from the tower going over the pedestal? The flames in the Korok Forest
subtly pointing you in the right direction? Are these instances where you realize what
needs to be done not reminiscent of Zelda? Those moments in combat where you use runes,
cooking, weapon strategy and multiple approaches to come to a satisfying and creative solution
- are they not like the item-based combat of previous Zelda games like Wind Waker? Those
moments where you solve a big problem in the open-world to reveal a Shrine containing a Spirit
Orb - are these not the same as Pieces of Heart? Is finding a solution not integral to Zelda’s
core? Is thinking differently about how to approach a situation not what makes Zelda what
it is? I’m fairly certain the ingredients that make up Zelda are all present and accounted for,
even if they don’t look the same as they once did. I know Breath of the Wild is missing
things that other Zelda games had, and I understand if that disappoints you,
but if your definition of a Zelda game is simply representative of what you’re doing, and
not how you’re feeling when doing those things, then you are closing yourself off to
the possibilities of what Zelda can be. Toward the end of my sixth recording session, I
had to pause and reflect on just how incredible my time working on this video had been. The times
where I forgot about what I needed to be doing and just got lost in the world, wondering what
might be lying in wait anywhere and everywhere. In the time I just decided to wander off, I
found a Lynel and 600 rupees on a cliff that was named after Tarm Ruins (my favourite area in
Oracle of Seasons), I freed Naydra from malice at the Spring of Wisdom, I solved a shrine quest that
reminded me of a Piece of Heart puzzle in previous Zelda games that played to Breath of the Wild's
strengths, and I explored the Tingle Islands for another shrine. This all happened across a very
small fraction of the world on the eastern shores. Seriously! The density of the Great Plateau
was never a false start; it exists everywhere. All the while, I was absorbed by the beauty
of the world. The quiet. The unknown. There were things I discovered that contributed
to my many quests and overarching adventure, of course, and that’s what gives all of this
purpose, but the notion of everything coming together - game systems, combat, rewards,
strategy, overarching quests, challenge, and world design and how it affects the way you
approach a situation - all of that in an organic, seamless flow is absolutely breathtaking. This
is the chemistry between game elements that we often break down into little bite-sized chunks in
game analysis, but we never consume video games thinking about these things in isolation. All
of these elements come together effortlessly to create an experience that you don’t think about
in the moment, but rather… you feel it. You feel it as you discover things through curiosity,
you feel it as you approach scenarios with your own creative solutions, you feel it as you
observe the diverse sights and sounds of Hyrule. For the longest time, I felt Breath of the
Wild was a game beyond words. Something that I didn’t have the ability to articulate, and that
intimidated me going into this project. But Breath of the Wild proved to me that what I loved about
Zelda was not the definitions or structure, but rather the emotions it evokes. And for all of the
reasons I’ve just stated, I believe Breath of the Wild to be not just a “Zelda game,” but also one
of the best damn Zelda games I have ever played. With that said, I also believe my critiques of
this game are valid, and if you don’t like the game… that’s fine. While I felt Breath
of the Wild was an excellent framework, it had the potential to be even greater,
and we can only get there by discussing it. After all… this is “yet another”
Breath of the Wild retrospective. Five years after Breath of the Wild hit
shelves, FromSoftware released Elden Ring. To preface, I want to say that
I am well aware of how touchy these kinds of comparisons can be.
Despite it primarily being an RPG and having much different ways of managing
progression than an action-adventure game, I believe Elden Ring is essential to both the
open-world genre, and Breath of the Wild’s legacy. While Breath of the Wild’s open-world was
defined by many elements coming together to make discoveries have purpose, Elden Ring is
defined by encounters, as well as the act of finding them. The game took those immaculately
designed, detailed boss fights that you must master in order to move forward, and made those
fights the discoveries. By opening up the Souls gameplay loop in this manner - coupled with the
amount of customization and experimentation you have when creating a build for your character
- you create so many possibilities for routes through the Lands Between. Though bosses can still
be these grandiose challenges you throw yourself at over and over again, you can always retreat and
explore the world to find more bosses to fight and more runes to claim in order to get stronger.
You have a great deal of freedom to tackle the game’s legacy dungeons and boss fights as you come
across them. Elden Ring also doesn’t use objective markers in its main quest; instead, you have to
discover the bosses and dungeons necessary to finish the game on your own by paying attention
to in-game clues, notes, and the dialogue NPCs give you. There is also a line that guides you
from one Site of Lost Grace to another. So not only does it seamlessly integrate guidance into
the game’s atmosphere, but it also makes a bold decision in the modern landscape of open-world
games, as it essentially forces players to explore and pay attention to its world, therefore
making them foster a deeper appreciation for it. The game’s legacy dungeons are all designed as if
they featured as areas in a previous Souls game, and they’re full of distinct level design, enemies
and challenges. They also offer various alternate paths to take, and feel like a more linear
adaptation of the feeling Hyrule Castle gave me in Breath of the Wild. As you could imagine,
I absolutely loved these dungeons and they play into Elden Ring’s nonlinearity beautifully.
The game also has its own solution to hiding weapons as rewards in the open-world. They’ve
still implemented permanent, distinct weapons as they would in any other Souls game, but now
you can apply different Ashes of War to each weapon to vary your strategies and approaches to
enemies. This takes a lot more work to implement, but it honestly resulted in a much better and
more rewarding system in regards to exploration. That said, it also exists in a
completely different kind of game. To this day, I return to Breath of the
Wild and replay it from time to time. As much as I loved Elden Ring, I still get
a huge kick out of the problem-solving and core gameplay that drives Zelda
at its core, and I always will. Pretty much every element in Breath of
the Wild is driven by that philosophy. There is value in experiencing both games. But the
other thing that ties everything together is what the game meant to me when it first released,
and what it serves as a reminder of now. The Nintendo Switch presentation took
place in January 2017, showcasing the console’s capabilities, third-party support,
major software, and closing with a trailer and the final release date for Breath of the
Wild. The first trailer was already a beautiful summation of what was possible in the game, but
this trailer - which focused primarily on the central narrative - is what I regard as one of
the greatest video game trailers of all time. This trailer premiered at the apex
of the anticipation for this game. Scratch that - it was the apex. It’s hard
to really place yourself in that time if you weren’t a huge Zelda fan, or if you
weren’t there for it, but I had to step away after the trailer premiered just
to process everything. Whether or not the actual narrative represented what we were
shown wasn’t of any concern to me at the time; the trailer itself carried so much emotional
weight and kind of solidified that trailers were a strong art medium on their own. I just
sat there for a while, taken aback by its beauty, and thought about what the game was going to
be, and how much that trailer meant to me. When the game came out, the story itself was not
exactly framed in the same manner as the trailer. The events of the game’s narrative take place 100
years before Link wakes up, and in order for him to recall what really happened, he must proceed
with the main quest until he can discover the pictures that Zelda left for him, and decipher the
locations of the pictures to recall his memories. As a method of implementing a narrative into a
non-linear game, this is a remarkable method true to the spirit of Zelda. It’s always so much fun
to decipher where exactly these places lie on the map, and it also gives them an emotional purpose
whenever you find yourself moving through those areas once again - just like a memory should. Not
long ago, I went for a walk around the area where I grew up, and it felt like every place I visited
had multiple memories attached to it. The only difference is that the memories you recall in
Breath of the Wild are not usually happy ones. The events that precede your adventures are
tragic. As foreshadowed by events from ten millenia prior, the threat of Calamity Ganon’s
return forces King Rhoam to recruit four Champions from each major region to control the Divine
Beasts, as well as appoint a knight to Princess Zelda, his daughter, as she trains to awaken
her powers. Unfortunately, she tries time and time again, only to fail. Hyrule’s fate rests
in her hands, and she is unable to utilize the power that could save it when the time comes.
All the while, she is researching the ancient technology that powers the beasts, shrines and
Guardians in an effort to better understand them. In the end, Calamity Ganon reawakens and kills
the Champions and King Rhoam, destroying much of Hyrule in the process. Link himself is gravely
injured, but Zelda uses her knowledge of the ancient Sheikah technology and has him taken to
the Shrine of Resurrection, as well as hiding the Master Sword with the Deku Tree and sealing
herself and Calamity Ganon inside Hyrule Castle while awaiting Link’s return - a grand sacrifice
in the hope of things returning to normal someday. I never particularly had a problem with how
this game’s story was told, nor the actual events themselves. In fact, I related immensely
to Zelda’s personal failings as protector of her people, constantly dreading what would happen
in the future. You can also learn more about the decisions King Rhoam made - as well as
why he relayed such harsh words toward his own daughter - in Hyrule Castle, and the world is
made up of details like this. Urbosa has a journal in Gerudo Town, and Princess Zelda herself has one
in her study, reflecting on her relationship with Link and even shedding light on why he remains
silent - choosing to stay strong and bearing any burden that comes his way. On the other hand, I
can see how it felt disjointed and jarring in the face of such a monumentally emotional trailer.
I think a lot of people view the story as one of the game’s weakest elements due to how it was
presented. It was a bold attempt, and it gives context to several happenings around Hyrule in the
present day, but the narrative being disconnected from what was actually happening in the present
- as well as the intrinsic lack of linearity in how the story is delivered - made it difficult to
foster a powerful connection with its characters and events for some people. The Champion’s Ballad
did attempt to alleviate this, and it gave some closure to these characters in a meaningful way -
allowing them to do awesome things and giving me a picture to keep in my house as a reminder of
who they were. Still, it didn’t change things. Only later did I realize that those past events
were only a small part of the story Breath of the Wild is telling altogether. If anything, the
E3 2016 trailer, as well as the “Life in the Ruins” trailer, were far more representative
of what Breath of the Wild is really about. At the Dueling Peaks stable, you can run
into someone that says: “You know, with how peaceful it is around here, it’s sometimes easy
to forget that the world almost ended years ago.” When you think of your fondest memories with
Breath of the Wild, you’re likely not gonna be thinking about the events 100 years prior
to the game’s introduction. You’re most likely thinking about how you felt when you
discovered certain things for the first time. For the entirety of your adventure,
you’re exploring what is left of Hyrule. The game is set in the present, not the past.
You can involve yourself in what’s happening now. The Great Calamity may have been devastating,
and you can observe and feel the weight of its impact as you explore, but you can also observe
how people have continued to live beyond tragedy. Though you may not be able to properly connect
with those Champions Link once fought beside, you can still see how they’ve left an impact.
Riju is constantly trying to live up to the image of Urbosa as she anxiously guides her
people. Mipha continues to inspire courage in her people as they move forward. Hyrule presses
onward despite the tragedy that befell them. So, no. The events preceding the game are
not what I immediately think of when I think of Breath of the Wild. What I think of is what
those events eventually led to. I think of the people of Kakariko Village, like Koko and Cottla
and the Cucco guy. I think of the house I bought in Hateno Village, and the soothing atmosphere
of people going about their lives. I think of Sidon’s positive attitude and the people of Zora’s
Domain. I think of the socially awkward Gerudo women that are trying to find their soulmates by
attending dating classes. I think of the kids in Rito Village that put aside their differences and
sang their song together. I think of the coastal village of Lurelin and their peaceful lifestyle.
To me, Breath of the Wild’s story isn’t defined by everything that was lost. It is defined by what
was built. And to me - this also encompasses what the team has left behind in search of a new method
of creating Zelda. That was then… THIS is now. My favourite sidequest in the game, “From
the Ground Up,” is a perfect example. Hudson here decides to break off from the Bolson
construction company to build a new life out in Akkala. You always converse with Hudson by trading
single sentences, and it makes for some charming dialogue. In order to help him build his new life
in his little old place called “Tarrey Town” and form the Hudson construction company, you need
to search for people in the various regions with names ending in “-son.” Bolson’s company had
that policy, and now it looks like Hudson is carrying on the tradition. This is fun because
you not only have to pay attention to the people you’re speaking to and explore populated regions
further, but once those people become established in Tarrey Town, they offer purchasable items
that are usually well worth the effort you spend looking for them. Grayson will allow you
to purchase gems with your hard-earned rupees, rather than solely relying on drops from
ore deposits and Talus battles. Rhondson will allow you to purchase the Desert Voe set,
and while it won’t let you into Gerudo Town, it is actually upgradeable, and can be used to brave
the harsh temperatures underneath the desert sun without worrying about your defense. Fyson offers
arrows purchasable in bulk, which became such an incredible help throughout my playthroughs. You
will have to cut down a lot of trees in order to create the necessary housing, but in the
end Hudson gets married to Rhondson, and the ceremony - though odd - is touching. Hudson
even sheds a tear when all is said and done. Not only are the rewards incredible for
this quest (which is why I love to tackle it as soon as I can), the emotional payoff is
emblematic of what I think this game portrays best - the fact that life can indeed
go on after such awful circumstances. Earlier, I mentioned having to pause toward the
end of my sixth recording session. As I said, I felt the game was in its element at that moment. Everything had come together, and I was just
exploring the Tingle Islands and enjoying my time. Toward the edge of the island, I
found a lone Silent Princess flower. I then turned to see the sun rising over the
ocean, which looked absolutely breathtaking. The Silent Princess is one of the game’s strongest
symbols, featuring in the game’s logo and being the central focus in one of Link’s recoverable
memories. In this cutscene, any forthcoming tragedy is cast aside in favour of Zelda’s passion
for her research, and this flower in particular. She mentions the flower can’t grow domestically
yet, and the fact that the princess “can only thrive out here in the wild.” She also says that
“we can only hope that the species is resilient enough to survive on its own.” The main theme of
the game plays over this moment. This is one of the simplest cutscenes in the entire game, and yet
it profoundly represents the game’s central theme… Life goes on. War can leave death and destruction
in its wake, you can lose the people you love, and tragedy can take multiple forms…but time marches
forever onward. Even when it’s one challenge after another and everything seems to be falling apart…
it’s always possible for things to get better. The one thing that still stands after everything
else is in ruin are humanity’s own hopes for something better on the other side, and that
shines through in Hyrule’s ability to persevere after the Great Calamity. Even when that happiness
you once felt feels like a distant memory, courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten.
And that is why I love Breath of the Wild. There’s just one more thing left to talk
about. As much as I loved camping and canoeing down that river, there was
one part of the trip I was dreading. Our trajectory down the river required us to
portage our canoes and carry all of our supplies through half a kilometer of a mosquito-infested
forest…twice. It would be physically taxing for most people, let alone a sick kid, but I knew
it was essential if we wanted to see the rest of the river, and it wasn’t like we could just
turn around and go back the way we came. People were depending on me. I had to move forward. And
so I did. I walked with that canoe over my head, and that heavy backpack weighing me down, and
if I ever tried to stop, I’d become bug food. It wasn’t easy for me in that state, but reaching
the clearing on the other side was so cathartic, and the second time around - I had much
less of a problem braving the elements. Looking back, those portages through the forest
taught me another valuable lesson - while things that are out of your control can be bad, and
good things do eventually come along - sometimes you have to summon your courage and be
the catalyst for that positive change. The music of Breath of the Wild is seen as one of
its more controversial aspects, but I’ve always appreciated its bold direction. While exploring,
it doesn’t try to take a commanding presence when music is not necessary. It uses subtle
instrumentation to symbolize the heat of the desert, the frigid colds of the mountains,
and many more instances. Just as I value the moment-to-moment exploration, I value how
well-utilized the game’s lead instrument is. The piano is such a malleable instrument, and it takes
on so many forms in this game’s soundtrack. It can shift octaves to heighten emotional moments, it
can symbolize the atmosphere of any given region, it can pay respect to characters past and present
through a plethora of melodies, it can emulate the feeling of being chased by a Guardian through a
frantic pace, and it can accompany the sight of your horse galloping through a field. If you’re
riding your horse for a while, you might be able to catch a glimpse of one of two melodies.
During the day, you’ll hear Zelda’s Lullaby. And at night, you’ll hear a theme
that I’m sure you’ll recognize. It’s inspiring to have these melodies
intersect as you ride through Hyrule; a constant reminder that you and Zelda share a
connection, and these melodies intersect further as you finally breach the gates of Hyrule Castle
in an effort to stop Ganon once and for all. The music in Hyrule Castle is possibly one of
the most incredible pieces ever composed and performed for a Zelda game. It uses a new melody
representing the journey through the castle itself, and Ganon’s theme is woven into those
strings. It also combines the Guardian motif through its use of the piano, Zelda’s Lullaby when
exploring indoors, and the Legend of Zelda theme when outside - all while utilizing percussion
to symbolize marching forever onward. It is a heavy culmination of everything you’ve worked
towards, and it works unbelievably well. This theme has so much history behind it, and
it is used as a tool to drive the player forward. If you want to secure a brighter future
- this is your moment, and THIS IS YOUR THEME. If you’ve liberated the Divine Beasts, the
Champions will take away half of Calamity Ganon’s health bar. In this phase, you can deflect
his beams, which come out much faster than any old Guardian’s. But if you’re like me and you found
yourself shrugging off beams and destroying Guardians like it was just another day of the
week, you should be able to manage this sudden shift. The game even wants you to deflect here, as
it creates an opening where critical hits normally would not. Calamity Ganon uses the abilities of
all the Blights; sometimes all at once! And when he decides to crawl on the walls, that’s when you
can bust out that stasis rune and land the perfect shot to knock him down. Later in the fight, he’ll
even put up his special armour, where you’ll have to perfectly time a dodge or parry a shot in
order to get some damage in. It’s amazing how, despite Breath of the Wild not carrying the same
sense of progression in ideas that a linear Zelda game would, this boss still ended up being
a fantastic culmination of everything you’ve applied throughout the game - whether you choose
to free the Divine Beasts or not. The final fight with Dark Beast Ganon is just about finding that
perfect opportunity, and while it isn’t nearly as mechanically complex as Calamity Ganon, the
spectacle is well worth it after everything you’ve worked towards. I love how your horse is delivered
to you in this moment, that horse you’ve formed a bond with along your journey is now integral
to this final battle. The music prominently features some of the best pianowork in the game,
which still feels so defiant in the face of how controversial the piano was in this soundtrack.
It’s here to stay. Finally, after bringing Ganon’s health down, you use Zelda’s Bow of Light to
wait for an opening as the music straddles the line between fighting and finishing, and shoot
Ganon in the forehead the first chance you get. I never thought I’d be as happy as I was back when
I was just a kid playing Wind Waker for the first time, or when I was sitting on that island in the
river, but Breath of the Wild reminded me that it was possible. Not just through its interpretations
of the spirit of Zelda, but through its message that humanity will always find a way to live on,
even if life looks different than it once did. In every way, it mirrors what the team wanted to
achieve with this game. Even though this game is drastically different from what Zelda used to look
like… I would still wholeheartedly call it Zelda. This game helped me re-evaluate the way I view
life, and served as a huge influence on me in my own creative endeavours. I was so caught
up in the past, the effects of what I dealt with lingering on, and worrying about those
horrible things happening again that I failed to take notice of what was happening around me.
Things were a lot better than they once were, and right then was the time to take
advantage of that and start living again. Sure, things will sometimes come crumbling
down, and there’s no telling when that next moment that will change everything will
come. But I’ll always remember that it is possible to bounce back, no matter how
long that takes, or what that looks like. I’ve been Liam Triforce. Thank
you so much for watching.
