The Indie Informer

With a couple hours under my belt, I still don’t entirely know what to make of Arco. It’s undeniably distinctive. The setting, brought to life via granula pixels molded into eye-catching and diverse landscapes, builds a stage for various underrepresented Mesoamerican cultures.

Across this stage, a vengeance-filled narrative is unfolding amidst aromatic descriptions and sensory world-building. Adjusting to the singular combat — partly turn-based and partly real-time action — takes some doing. My brain is still wrapping around it, and, while I enjoy the puzzle-like flow, I still haven’t decided if it makes for a fun fight.

The creativity in every encounter is clear, however, both in and out of combat. Whether I’m traversing jungle, desert, or bustling cities, there’s always something unexpected to see. Choosing between branching paths early in the game, I run into a herbalist with… peculiar… appetites. Like the winding paths I took to arrive here, there are a few ways to handle the situation. Should I storm into battle and ask questions later? Should I turn a blind eye? My choices led to a strangely satisfying conclusion, but, I have a feeling, going another way would have been equally interesting.

Even just traveling the roads, events big and small appear before me. Overturning a rock can lead to discovering worms — perfect bait for stopping off to fish in one of the world’s watering holes. A good catch can offer health in battle and become the difference between victory and defeat.

One of the first boss-like battles pits me against a giant bug. The bulbous creature has several attacks I learn through trial and error. A quick swing, jumping body-slam, and small beetle-spawning are all weapons in its arsenal. I also quickly notice the battlefield produces exploding globs of goo which affects me as well as the enemies. Using these to my advantage is key, but getting my action sequence just right is tricky.

I have a handful of attacks alongside options to run, wait, heal, and shield. These are all governed by either cooldowns or my available action points. Running around the field without attacking replenishes a little bit of the points, while simply waiting in place fills my bar up farther. Time stops in between my choices, so there’s no rush in figuring out my next move. However, my opponents will unleash their plans as soon as I commit to a move. Therein lies the strategy — weaving my actions in such a way that I avoid damage and set myself up for a hit.

The most successful turns I had with my large insect friend involved running to an explosive blob, waiting for a body slam, shielding myself from the downfall — which would trigger the bomb and flip the creature onto its back — and then using every available action point to hit it hard while it was stunned. In real-time, this sequence of events would feel well-worn, but in Arco’s stop-and-start combat the moves can be hard to read, setting me up for foolish missteps. Luckily, death in these encounters leads to a option to quickly retry the fight, so I always found myself back in the action without pause.

Despite my unsettled impression on the combat, I’m deeply intrigued by the characters and my quest. The world is striking — both in visuals and atmosphere. Plus every game is made better with an adorable little mount. I’ll be weighing these elements against each other as a travel farther down the blood-stained road laid out before me in Arco.