Dredge, and the Rote Sublime

I mourn for what could be, here.

The atmosphere is thick, immaculate. Bold lines and strong colours welcome an off-kilter world, eager to be openly explored. Weird and wonderful sites are to be beheld; unique genre mashups intrigue those weary of never ending death and destruction as the center of their entertainment.

Ah, fishing. In the real world it’s… not for some, but in video game land it’s the quintessential mini game. Sit back and relax, load up your boat with sea-fairing bounty, then head back to town to turn a profit - and maybe fit out your rig with a nice new rod while you’re there. 

At least until night falls, and the ominous fog rolls in.

Heading out at the crack of dawn, upgrade materials beckoned from outside the safety of the archipelago. A bounty of riches found, a boat filled to the brim with everything and more. Gluttony gives way to gnawing fear as in game hours tick by - dark, lost, all of a sudden.

Madness sets in, then… giant teeth, rising up from the depths. A mad scramble away, in what direction no one knows. Spotting land, a shipwreck - curiously, a splitting image of the vessel that now carries me. Repulsive monstrosities creep closer. Slicing through the panic, a beacon - The Lighthouse. A beeline for safety concludes the most memorable of experiences; a rush, exhilaration bound by giddy fear.

The sea be the perfect place for the sublime, in the most raw sense of the word. Unbelievable horrors dug up from the unfathomable depths; or simply a trick of the mind? But horror works best when it is at first subtle, at once overwhelming, and at last, sparse. 

Dredge’s twilight fog is all encompassing, with dozens upon dozens of nights passing in a handful of hours, every… single… one… enveloping in its madness. I longed for a star stricken sky, a calm night among the waves, trawling the depths for treasures and puss-filled globulous sea life. 

The earlier apprehension-adrenaline cocktail loses lustre, slowly replaced with the enemy of fear. The unknowable becomes the known, patterns among the muck emerge. Frustration becomes the primary taste among an otherwise unconventional palette. 

Fetch the things. Macguffins lead ye. Formulaic design draws a straight line through the widest expanse known to man or monster.

All I want is to fish in peace.