Strange Antiquities: The Occult Deduction Game That Makes Old Knick-Knacks Feel Like Ancient Lore

AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·

Strange Antiquities: The Occult Deduction Game That Makes Old Knick-Knacks Feel Like Ancient Lore

Strange Antiquities, the sequel to Strange Horticulture, is a delightful deduction game that tasks players with identifying occult artifacts for customers, building on its core puzzle mechanic with layers of mysterious lore and a wonderfully creepy-cozy atmosphere.

Right, so you know that feeling when you wander into an old antique shop? All dust motes dancing in sunbeams, the faint smell of forgotten histories, and suddenly you're convinced that chipped teacup has seen things, *dark things*? That’s the vibe, mate, that's the *exact* vibe that *Strange Antiquities* is serving up, and frankly, I'm absolutely here for it. Forget the sneezing fits and the suspicious stain on that armchair; this game bottles the pure, unadulterated joy of browsing a curio shop and then sprinkles a healthy dose of eldritch mystery on top. It’s a bit like accidentally blowing a hole through reality into a dusty, magical pawn shop, and honestly, who wouldn't want that adventure?

This isn't just some quaint little point-and-click, either. *Strange Antiquities*, a proper follow-up to 2022's wonderfully peculiar *Strange Horticulture*, plunges you headfirst into the world of esoteric artifacts. Instead of flogging rare flowers from a secluded shop, you're now presiding over a collection of foreboding totems, glittering necklaces adorned with cryptic runes, and all manner of spooky, fascinating trinkets. Your job? To appease your eccentric clientele by handing over *exactly* the mysterious item they need, despite having absolutely zero clue what anything is. Sounds like a recipe for delightful chaos, doesn't it?

This is where the game truly shines, channeling its predecessor's ingenious deduction loop. You're not just guessing; you're playing digital detective, poring over your trusty, ever-expanding catalog. Each entry is a riddle wrapped in an enigma, hinting at an item's shape, its heft, the materials it’s crafted from. It’s like a wizard reading digital tea leaves, piecing together fragments of lore to conjure the right answer. And what starts as a simple 'match the description' task soon spirals into a multi-layered intellectual playground. Fair dinkum, Bad Viking (the mad geniuses behind this) have squeezed so much mileage out of this core idea, it’s genuinely impressive.

I’ve been tinkering with this concept all morning, and bloody hell, the depth is wilder than it first appeared. One minute you're eyeballing a peculiar statuette, the next you've acquired a tome detailing obscure gemstones, allowing you to deduce the hidden, magical properties of something you'd initially dismissed as mere decoration. You'll be heaving items onto scales to ascertain their weight (because, obviously, a 'heavy' item isn't just *heavy*, it's metaphysically dense), inspecting them closely for faint sounds, and even working out how different runic symbols might need to combine to unleash their desired arcane effect. It's puzzle-solving as an act of magical scholarship, and I reckon it's brilliant.

But wait, there's more! Underneath that satisfying identification hook, there are several tantalizing layers of narrative mystery. Your customers aren't just here for a quick transaction; they're slowly unspooling tales of growing chaos outside your shop – apparently, there’s a whole flock of birds causing a ruckus, which sounds less like a nuisance and more like an ominous portent if you ask me. Plus, cryptic notes delivered by a mailman (who I bet has seen some things, too) lead you to discover secret nooks within your own store. And then there are the maps, mate. Following clues to pinpoint specific locations on a series of maps to unearth new, equally mysterious trinkets? It’s puzzles within puzzles within puzzles, creating an eerie, compelling rabbit hole that builds out a world you never actually step foot in beyond the confines of your safe little shop counter. It’s the gaming equivalent of finding a secret passage behind a bookshelf – pure joy.

Now, I'm a wizard of infinite possibilities, but even I can get a bit stumped. And *Strange Antiquities* does get complicated. Thankfully, the developers have thrown us a lifeline in the form of a very generous hint system. Don’t be ashamed of using it, either. This isn’t about 'git gud'; it’s about letting the game guide you back to a lead so you can keep soaking in that deliciously creepy-cozy vibe. Because, let’s be honest, failing too many times drops you into a somewhat tedious Yahtzee-like minigame to avoid losing your sanity. Look, it's not exactly a spell-slinging showdown, and it can wear you thin in later chapters, but hey, even the most powerful mages have to roll the dice sometimes, eh? A slight misstep in an otherwise enchanting journey.

Despite the occasional dice roll, *Strange Antiquities* absolutely nails the feeling of being a certified trinket connoisseur, someone who appreciates the story behind the object, even if that story remains tantalizingly out of reach. It perfectly captures that allure of the unknown, that quiet wonder that makes you stare at an old, possibly haunted statue across your bedroom (much like the original author’s girlfriend's prized 'Amelia'), knowing there’s a narrative there you’ll likely never fully solve, and that’s precisely what keeps you coming back.

This game isn't just about identifying objects; it’s about embracing the mystery, the peculiar, and the subtle magic woven into the fabric of forgotten things. It’s a genuinely innovative indie gem that takes a simple premise and layers it with such cleverness and atmosphere, you can’t help but be drawn into its strange, antiquarian world. Definitely one to keep an eye on, particularly if you’re into your deduction games with a dash of occult flavour. Bravo, Bad Viking, bravo.

*Original Article Source: Polygon. Author: Giovanni Colantonio.*

Tags: indie game, puzzle game, deduction, occult, cozy horror

Original article: Polygon