Cairn

Whether it's Grow Home, Jusant or the hugely popular Peak, it's clear that human instinct has a natural affinity for climbing games, whether we're interested in climbing outside of separate virtual worlds or not. There is clearly something about systematically conquering a steep rock face that simply fits well with interactive game design, and The Game Bakers' Cairn takes on the task of delivering such a satisfying and realistic climbing experience that it has also become a hit with... well, those who climb. On real rock faces.

In Cairn, you are Aava, played by Sophia Eleni, who is determined to become the first human ever to conquer the fearsome Mount Kami, a task that even the most experienced climbers call "impossible". It is quite clear from the start that Aava is not doing this for the right reasons, that trauma, unhealthy perfectionism and an inability to put down roots on land are the primary driving forces, and this leads us to one of the game's central hubs, where I think it will be very individual how you react to Aava, her journey and the way she treats herself and others.

You see, Aava is - and there's no way around it - a bit of a jerk. She's sharp, rude, arrogant, and so self-centred that her ambition has become a kind of blinders. She can only see her own goal and clearly can't understand other people's motivations or make the necessary connection to her surroundings to even begin to understand that others aren't......well, her. This is pretty much how it is throughout, and her almost striking "douchbaggery" is so toxic that she begins to ruin other supporting characters with her toxic hyper-ambition.

So is it refreshing to play as a jerk? A jerk who pretty much remains a jerk throughout? Perhaps. Aava certainly doesn't rub people the wrong way, that's for sure, but at the same time, one could also argue that she is completely her own person and that there has been no commercial streamlining to make her as appealing to the masses as possible. This is one of the game's defining characteristics, which makes it both exciting and, at times, frustrating.

So Aava climbs for all the wrong reasons, but climb she must, and apart from some relatively basic but well-functioning survival mechanics, climbing is the only way the game communicates and interfaces with you. This is actually a compliment, because climbing in Cairn is... well, it's fantastic. You control one body part at a time, and the game tells you which one is best to move at any given moment. This gives the game a more systematic flow, where you conquer a rock face at a consistent pace, but with your attention focused on the support each "grip" has from either your hands or feet at all times. Aava's hands and feet will naturally respond to which surfaces you put pressure on, and again which body parts are supporting her weight, and it almost always feels natural and responsive to look for small holds, notches in the rock or elsewhere to stabilise yourself.

Slowly but surely, you cover the vertical distance to the top of Kami, where ledges, stalactite caves, ancient temples and lush mountain meadows provide respite between these more intense, challenging stretches. Here you will find the necessities for the rest of the journey, as you need to keep an eye on Aava's thirst and hunger, as well as ensure that she has chalk for her hands (which improves grip) and enough materials to produce enough bolts that act as failsafes on the rock walls. You have limited space in your rucksack, and by setting up camp, you can take a breather, cook food for the trip, ensure you have enough water, and in every way improve your next climb as you move closer to the summit of Kami.

All these systems work together quite harmoniously, to say the least, and these breathing spaces, this inherent initiative that the systems give the player, are crucial to feeling in control of the situation, while also providing mechanical and structural versatility in a game that is otherwise quite singular in its expression. In other words, it feels nice when Cairn lets you do something other than just climbing, and each of these little breathing spaces, whether it's exploring an abandoned mountain village or just setting up camp and making a bowl of noodles and drinking a cup of tea, makes you breathe a sigh of relief - just like Aava. So far, so good.

And it is actually a beautiful journey, all in all. The game's rather specific graphic style is mostly well chosen, giving the game a colourful, expressive and unique look, which is only let down by a few scenes where a lack of more in-depth facial expressions fails to convey Aava's thoughts and feelings in a way that you can pick up on. But in all its pompous grandeur, Cairn is a beautiful game with a clear direction, and thanks to the striking music from the Danish composer behind Limbo and Inside, Martin Stig Andersen, together with The Toxic Avengers and the French-Brazilian composer Gildaa, it is a masterpiece to listen to.

There are a few instances where this system of moving one body part at a time introduces a bit of unnecessary "jerkiness", where Aava's one leg twists and turns at an angle that is almost silly, or where she is about to succumb to the pressure of her own weight despite the fact that she should be able to stand stably the way you have positioned her arms and legs. Fortunately, these moments are rare, and the actual climbing, and the breaks you get to worry about her resources, create two harmonious halves that together form the framework for a rather memorable whole.

I enjoyed my time with Cairn, I really did. I wish Aava had exposed her character a little more, though. Returning to the way the game positions her, there is a lot of talk about her, and although this is subtle and understated, it could have been beneficial for her to reveal a little more of herself. That said, she is not exactly a superficial character, and Cairn is not a forgettable story about personal pride, toxic ambition, and the ability to identify bad motives in oneself and others.

It took me eight hours to reach the top, and it is truly worth the journey and the price.