Kona (Early Access)

Kona manages to capture an environment and atmosphere that most games only dream of. It’s a good thing too; for the bulk of my play-through the environment was the most talkative character I came across. The ever-present, raging blizzard howls and moans, the bare floorboards of cabins and general stores creak and thump, and the labored chug of your old pickup and the high-pitched whine of a snowmobile is about as close as you’ll get to a conversation in these parts. Oh, and ghosts. And possibly a Wendigo.

Bienvenue au Canada

In my brief time with Kona, I was consistently surprised at how effortlessly the game draws you in. There is a pervasive sense of dread and almost-but-not-quite fear as you explore the deserted town’s many buildings and read the notes and ledgers of its missing citizens. There are creepy cabins with wood-burning stoves, the walls covered in pictures of a Wendigo, which you hope is purely from the artist’s imagination. Old-timey record players warble out decades-old tunes, flip-switch gas pumps, a relic by today’s standards, sit forlornly in the raging storm, waiting for customers who will never arrive, and savage wolves dig through trash cans, giving you challenging looks before reluctantly trotting back into the woods. The atmosphere is beautiful, isolating, and very effective.

Just Listen to the Man

The narration also ratchets up the danger in subtle ways. The majority of the time, the voice is calm, even, and almost dryly sarcastic at some points. When there is danger or potentially creepy situations or revelations, the voice becomes less even, more hurried, and there is a definite tension in the narrator’s voice. The voice actor clearly got what the developers were going for, and the direction is spot on as well. The narration is rarely out of place and it adds a great amount of depth to the atmosphere and experience.

Health, Stress, and ... Wolves

As far as actual enemies, you won’t find many human aggressors. The mystery and the elements are your main adversaries, as the cold takes its toll and your stress level rises. Also, there are wolves. And they are pissed. After spending so much time being a little creeped out but otherwise fine, I decided to chance the rapid rise in my stress levels and venture out into the woods to see if anything interesting was to be found. I walked for a while, observing empty campgrounds and small abandoned shacks when I heard the low growl of a wolf. It brought about a genuine sense of panicked vulnerability as I realized that I was out in the elements, stress levels rising fast, and the most deadly thing in my arsenal was a flashlight. I spun around in a circle, trying to find the source of the growling, quickly walking back the way I came. Almost immediately a chorus of growls joined the first one, and my heart was in my throat. I spun around again, peering desperately into the snow, now completely disoriented, trying to figure out which way to run. The wolves slowly materialized out of the snow, and promptly ripped me to pieces as I futilely tried to run away. It was an awesome moment, and it wasn’t really until then that I realized how completely the game had pulled me in.