source: (eurogamer.net)

Souls survivor.

The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks isn't my game of the year. Demon's Souls is. In fact Demon's Souls is my game of the decade. If I could, I would be Mrs Demon's Souls. But I've written and blithered and shared and pored over so many words about bloody Demon's Souls over the past eight months that I'm completely spent and literally everyone in my acquaintance is bored to death of hearing me talk about it, so instead I'm going to write about my second-favourite game of the year.

And it couldn't be more different. Demon's Souls is stoic, cruel, uncompromising, psychotic, black and grey and deep, blood red. Zelda Trains - I've been ordered by The Hierarchy to call it Zelda Trains, by the way, but I'm only doing it this once - is primary colours and wide-eyed children and cowprint piggies and choo-choos. Demon's Souls plops you unceremoniously into a horrible world full of things that are trying to murder you and take your things and gives you absolutely no guidance whatsoever. Spirit Tracks takes you by the hand, smiles widely and leads you through comfortable and familiar territory, pushing well-worn, well-loved toys into your hands at intervals with a kindly wink.

It's continually astounding to me that no matter how many Zelda games I play, I never get bored of the hookshot, the bomb and the boomerang. I typically get bored of games after about 20 minutes if I don't see something particularly interesting about them; I'm inordinately demanding that way, often to my own detriment. And yet here I am, tapping walls with a sword to see if they're hollow, just as I have since I was barely old enough to tie my own shoes.

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