I remember the first time I approached a dimensional portal of Oblivion as if it had happened yesterday: it still aroused fear before being crossed, even before being in sight , with that sky that was tinged with a crimson red anything but well-wishing. At the time, my sorcerer / summoner could conjure up a mere skeleton, which could do little against the knights from the basalt armor that populated the demonic realm ; for this it was really hard to finish the quest safely. Not the same can be said for the subsequent portals, which have gradually become easier, or rather I was the one to have developed powers and abilities such as to make them a walk in search of decent loot.
Of more or less similar situations you will have experienced plenty of them too, especially if you are a RPG enthusiast: the script states that our character starts with a sword and some rag on him (when it's good) to become a sort of semi-divine entity with devastating powers over time. In certain games these powers are already within us, but for the most disparate (or improbable) reasons we have momentarily lost them and during the adventure we reacquire them. Little change
In RPGs and open-worlds, the danger of making the final stages of the game unbalanced lies right there behind the corner
It is sacrosanct that software houses put us in the conditions of using increasingly powerful skills and equipment, this progression is part of the power fantasy that is one of the main reasons why we play a role , but the danger of making the final stages of the game unbalanced it is right there around the corner. Of course, there is now self-leveling, but the simple increase in life points or other buffs does not always increase the level of challenge in an interesting way, but rather risks introducing a grinding component that ends up being boring.
The open world nature of many games makes it difficult to calibrate the difficulty because the developers lose control over their own creature allowing us to take advantage of a greater or lesser amount of content, and therefore of experience, before a certain dungeon or crucial point in history. This does not only apply to role-playing games: I recently played a title inspired by the years' side-scrolling 90, SolSeraph , where, however, it is possible to address the levels in the order that suits us best. This choice of ACE Team forced them to flatten the level of difficulty downward, and to make matters worse we think of the growth system of our hero who adds HP and powers for every completed world. If the progression order had remained firm in the hands of the Chilean study, the advanced levels could have been richer in traps and combinations of enemies , together with perhaps more complex structures in the world of game, suitable for testing our skills and the mastery of the combat system developed up to that point
So what to do? If the answer was easy, we wouldn't even be talking about it, but sometimes we find interesting solutions here and there. I am reminded of a beautiful indie a few years ago, Superbrothers: Sword & amp; Sworcery EP . In that fantastic pixel art-inspired action adventure as much as the soundtrack – thank you Mr Guthrie! – with the progress of the story our avatar lost HP instead of earning them. I'll be frank: I don't remember how this was justified (give me a hand, come on), but this reduction was perfectly lowered in the narrative, resulting credible and making us feel even closer to the hero.
Damn me, sometimes I should pay attention to what I want
In some games being faced with a high level of challenge is more important than in others, and is often linked to the setting. Titles such as Darkest Dungeon cannot afford to get us to the point of massacring everything and everyone without blinking an eye: they would lose the atmosphere on which the whole title lays the foundation. I remember that at one point I hadn't lost heroes for a while, so I thought, “There would be a bad increase in difficulty now.” I had something specific in mind: remember the beginning of Kenshiro's second season, when he Does it come to Asura, and from the shadows Falco emerges, half slaughtered and without his artificial leg? What a scene it is! Falco to me was perhaps the most tough of the adversaries encountered by Ken until that moment, a true “Mohammed-ti-spacco-il-culo-Bruce-Lee” (su, this quote is easy), and seeing him tanned so well he did to understand what our warrior of the Big Bear would be meeting. Well, I would have liked something like that. And damn, sometimes I should pay attention to what I want: Darkest Dungeon gave me just that , a dungeon in which my consolidated patrol could not even win the first fight, returning to the base with pive in the bag and one less Houndmaster. Poor, how sorry I was. These are the moments that remain etched in the memory , far more than slow and constant increases in the resistance of the adversaries who often are still unable to keep up with our thirst for exploration and side quests. Have you experienced such things? I'm sure so.