Sunless Skies

PC

Hard to imagine, isn’t it, what might be inspiring so many developers to make games about cataclysmic scenarios lately? Regardless, seemingly every month we find ourselves topping up dwindling meters of various kinds, trying to make a lot from a little in worlds where resources are scarce and disaster always seems to be around the next corner. But while games about survival tend to devolve into a slow trudge towards an inevitable game over, failure in Sunless Skies is often exciting, and catastrophe can lead to opportunity. Should your ultimate ambition be fame rather than fortune, for example, scary encounters and memorable escapes will help you write up a thrilling chronicle of your journey. Or you can cash in these narrative chips early, trading stories for supplies at island settlements, where locals wait for adventurers to stop by and relay their tales of terror.

All of which is to say that the third game in the Fallen London universe gives you a little more wiggle room, but is otherwise as tough-nosed as predecessor Sunless Sea. That game’s tagline, lest we forget, was ‘Lose your mind. Eat your crew’, and it’s inherently possible here; likely, even, should you run out of fuel or food. It’s structured in a similar way, too, supporting controllers but best played with a keyboard and mouse, as you steer your slow-moving sky locomotive with WASD, jabbing Q and E for sharp lateral thrusts to avoid slamming into scenery or to ensure enemy projectiles whistle harmlessly by. Then when you’re docked, it becomes something like a sophisticated tabletop RPG, a classy piece of interactive fiction with choices whose outcomes are part-determined by dice rolls, influenced by character traits you’ve chosen from the start, and experience you’ve gained since. Like Sea, Skies is essentially about getting yourself in a tangle and figuring out how to extricate yourself, preferably with the least possible amount of cannibalism involved. And it’s admirably upfront about the hardships you’ll face. “A thousand deaths wait in the sky,” reads the final diary entry of your craft’s current captain, written shortly before some ungodly malaise claims her. It says much that the presence of choking smog and industrial clanks brings comfort to your anxious crew. This, the port of New Winchester, is your home, a haven from the cosmic horrors beyond, a place to rest up, fix up – maybe even staff up – and look for work. You’ll speak to locals and accept quests or chase prospects to distant ports, with nothing but a general compass direction to head in; your sky map is blank until you venture forth. And so you head out, armed with the sure knowledge that things are going to get worse before they get better.

But they will. Sunless Sea’s narrative focus didn’t always knit well with its Roguelike template, with repetition blunting its sense of wonder and discovery. Skies is a little kinder, though it has to be – this is a larger world and a longer game, with potentially more to lose upon death. Starting again here allows you to benefit from much of your predecessor’s experience, and you’ll retain your ship, albeit minus one randomly chosen part, so it’s wise not to get too attached to that mining drill or machine gun. And should you suffer an unavoidable mishap – like a friendly scout clumsily swinging round and bashing into your side, ripping a fatal hole in what remains of your hull – you have the option to restart at the last checkpoint.

The same applies to those who would rather focus on the story, though we’d argue it should only really be used as a last resort. Sunless Skies is at its best when the stakes are high, the pressure begins to tell and it’s not just your hull that’s cracking up. Even with a powerful arsenal, a bulging hold and a full, healthy crew, longer journeys through treacherous territory take a toll on the mind. There are only so many terrifying sights and sounds you can cope with, and unless you take a break and find somewhere to soothe your soul you’ll suffer some cruel luck. For once, fortune favours the cowardly.

Still, you’ll need to take calculated risks to get anywhere, though choices frequently have unintended consequences. While the outcomes are often made plain, the script has a habit of slyly hinting at possible repercussions, leaving you uneasy about your decisions. Locate a supply cache in the wilderness and you’re invited to write in a ledger to confirm you’ve incurred a debt. You have the option to simply cut and run, though your shipmates express their doubts should you do so. Even if you do the honourable thing, the debt remains in your journal, a nagging reminder to pay it back. Indeed, the writing is consistently strong, finding moments of levity in even the bleakest situations, such that it often feels like a black comedy. And when it needs to dial up the horror, it turns on a dime, with help from a simple but brilliant addition: snippets of text are overlaid on the environment, sometimes adding extra colour but usually warning of imminent danger. Upon reading that your crew is on edge, suddenly so are you.

It’s the promise of danger that chills you, rather than the realisation of it. Failbetter springs some devious surprises: after scavenging maybe half a dozen floating wrecks, you’ll stumble into a trap laid by a waiting craft that emerges from the clouds like a ghost ship through fog. But they’re not particularly smart. Combat is deliberately a little awkward and enemy AI is erratic, though it serves its purpose, ensuring you can’t relax even when things look comparatively rosy. Besides, to carp about what amounts to a tiny fraction of the time you’ll spend in Sunless Skies is to miss the bigger picture. This is a game about stories that has a knack of producing really good ones – when you’re doing well, and especially when you’re doing badly.

The script has a habit of slyly hinting at possible repercussions, leaving you uneasy about your decisions