The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap really makes you shrink

Don’t ask me why, but I often like to begin playing a new game–well, new to me, that is–during the Thanksgiving holiday break, with me digging into Metroid II: Return of Samus and Ratchet & Clank: Size Matters in the past. Well, this year, I only had my Nintendo 3DS with me as I traveled down to South Jersey for turkey, Christmas tree decorating, and too much Black Friday shopping even during “regular” hours, and while I dabbled in my daily staples of Pokémon Shuffle and Nintendo Badge Arcade…I wanted something fresher. You know, from 2005, the era of the Game Boy Advance. Enter The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap.

This is also one of those freebie 3Ds Ambassador titles given to all us early investors, of which I’ve played just about all of them for various lengths of time. You can read some words on things like Kirby and The Amazing Mirror, Metroid Fusion, and Yoshi’s Island: Super Mario Advance 3 by clicking this very sentence. I think the only one left for me to really try, and maybe write about some day, is Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones.

The Minish Cap‘s quest begins when Link, who I renamed Pauly, is chosen by the king of Hyrule to seek the help of the Picori after Vaati destroyed the Picori Blade and petrified Princess Zelda. Also, evil monsters are now running rampant in Hyrule, with Vaati creating as much chaos as possible in his search for the Light Force. Link was selected for this journey because he’s able to see and interact with the Minish, a race of small, elf-like people. Along the way, Link rescues Ezlo, a strange being resembling a green cap with a bird-like head, who joins him and is able to shrink the leading adventurer to the size of the Minish.

The basic gameplay is nearly identical to previous games in the series, with Link acquiring items, exploring dungeons, and defeating bosses for extra hearts and story-vital trinkets. The two stand-out elements that make this GBA adventure unique, as far as I can tell, involve Link shrinking down to the size of an ant and fusing kinstones. The former is used to open up new areas to explore, but also provides some stunning visuals, with plants now as large as trees and shoes on a tabletop a major roadblock. You see tiny doors everywhere, but you can only shrink in specific areas, which means you have to either figure out how to get there or come back later on when, I assume, you kill and roast Ezlo, gaining his powers by piercing his duck-like flesh with your cartoony chompers.

Fusing kinstones, is really addicting, mostly because it is really rewarding, and I hope the loop of finding a kinstone, fusing it with someone, going out for that revealed treasure, and finding more kinstones never fades. Basically, kinstones are items you collect as you cut grass and attack enemies, and back in town, if a person has a bubble over their head, you can take your half of a kinstone and match it with theirs. If they complete each other, something will reveal itself on the Hyrule map. So far, it’s been rupees, entrances to hidden areas, and more difficult enemies that drop a lot of money.

Look, I’m playing The Minish Cap with a guide open next to me on my laptop; however, I am not following the guide line by line. In the past, I’ve struggled to get through many quests involving Link, Princess Zelda, and the Tri-Force because I either get lost or forget where I need to go next or simply walk away from the journey for too long. There’s a reason why I still haven’t gotten through The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, and it’s because every random chance I hop back into it…I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing, what world I’m supposed to explore. Anyways, at any time, you can press “select” to get a clue as to where to go next from Ezlo, but even that is not always crystal clear. My greatest fear is returning to a dungeon I already completed and spending a chunk of time in it before realizing I’m supposed to be elsewhere, using that boomerang. So I’m only using the guide to keep me on the main path; I will not let The Minish Cap suffer the same fate as Link’s Awakening.

I’m really enjoying it, and, through glancing at the guide, The Minish Cap doesn’t seem to be the longest of Link’s adventures. That’s fine by me. There’s only a month left for 2015, and I have a number of other conquests to see done before 2016 comes crashing into my face. Cue panic face.

Five Games I’m Very Thankful For

This week in the United States, it’s all about turkey, parades, football, and family fun. Better known as the holiday Thanksgiving, but I’d much prefer it dubbed Givingthanks, as that’s the point of it, a point which, seemingly, is undermined time and time again thanks to things like tryptophan and Black Friday shopping sprees. We’re supposed to be thankful—for family, friends, love, health, security, and, of course, videogames. Some might even consider them family and friends.

And so, in no particular order, here’s five games I’m eager to give thanks to for a whole bunch of different reasons…

Suikoden

Suikoden was the start of everything for me in terms of roleplaying games. I had sadly—and stupidly—missed the plethora of strong RPGs on the SNES and only dipped my toes into the genre once I got to the PlayStation. Think I tried out Beyond the Beyond and maybe something else before pre-ordering Final Fantasy VII and waiting patiently for it to hit its release date. To help ease the pain of waiting, I ended up picking up this anime-looking RPG called Suikoden for no clear reason I can recall. It just looked…interesting. And boy was it! Here’s what I ate up: a plot brimming with war and family politics and unforeseen death, as well as magic, an awesome castle that grew as your army grew, and a unique—at least to me—fighting system that encouraged combo attacks with like-minded allies. This game was pretty much the opposite of the eagerly awaited Final Fantasy VII; it sported sprites for graphics, focused on collecting 108 characters, and was smaller in scope, and yet I’m more thankful for its existence than that Square blockbuster. In fact, I’ve gone back and replayed Suikoden numerous times while Final Fantasy VII was last touched when I beat it back in late 1997.

New Super Mario Bros.

This one sits extremely close to my heart. See, a few years ago, my mother and I were flying out to visit my sister in Arizona. I had, only weeks before, gotten a Nintendo DS Lite, with two or so games in my collection. The one I was currently playing while sitting next to her on the four hour flight was New Super Mario Bros., and I was actually just toying around with the slew of mini-games included within the main game’s cart. My mother leaned over and uttered some words I never thought to hear: “Can I try?”

So I showed her how to hold the console and use the touchscreen/stylus, and the rest is history. While out in Arizona, she just had to get a DS of her own (a pink one), as well as some games, such as Brain Age and Brain Academy and those kind. She still plays it frequently to this game, having built a good-sized collection of hidden object games, puzzlers, and interactive story-based games. For all I know about my mother, this was the first time she’s ever played videogames, and now we even have lengthy conversations about ‘em!

Super Metroid

Super Metroid is a game that taught me how to pay attention to everything. And I do mean everything. Boss battle patterns, cracks in the walls, tiny crevices perfect for roly-poly Samus to roll through, the undiscovered parts on the game’s wonderfully intricate map. More specifically, I’m talking about that part where Samus has to watch some space alien critters wall-hop up a long stretch of map to reach freedom and then do the same thing herself. That required a lot of paying attention to. As well as trial and error. Still, to this day, I have trouble wall-jumping in that game. I can maybe go once or twice up, but hitting the third or fourth jump really requires a certain thumb-to-button rhythm not found in my veins.

As frustrating as this section was, especially for a young boy on the brink of insanity, I’m more than thankful for what it taught me. Patience and practice do make (almost) perfect.

Shadow of the Colossus

Speaking of patience, enter Shadow of the Colossus. This is the game that stands tall and proud behind the “are videogames art?” debate, as well as standing tall and proud on its own merits because it’s an absolutely phenomenal gaming experience. It’s basically a straight boss run, with each colossus a puzzle of their own. Like Super Metroid, this game really asked a lot out of the gamer in terms of paying attention. One had to first figure out how to get Wander up on the colossi. Then they had to get him towards its weak point, wherever that was, and then they had to stab a bunch of times and pray they didn’t tossed off like a ragdoll. If they did, well…you had to start all over. But each subsequent colossus was worth it, and conquering them was a mix of teenage jubilation and eerie sadness. I’m thankful this game made me feel so confused emotionally, more so than any other at this point, but I’m even more thankful for what it didn’t do. The world within is more or less barren, save for a lizard or eagle, as well as the titular colossi, which meant no mindless sword-fighting enemy troops. It also meant no sidequests or towns to visit or people to converse with. It was just you, the colossi, and the hope of saving a loved one. Shadow of the Colossus gets to the point like no other title.

Tetris

Without Tetris, high school study hall would’ve been pure torture. Thanks to the power of nerds worldwide, everyone that got a Texas Instrumental calculator—so long as you knew someone who already had it on their calc—was able to play the legendary and seemingly unbeatable puzzle game from Russia. It worked just like the GameBoy version, but I don’t remember it having sound, which was fine and all, considering most of us were playing secretly beneath a trapper-keeper in class. It also helped on the bus ride to and fro. It’s biggest plus was that no one ever beat it; you just played and played the same few levels over and over again, each time differently thankfully enough, and that was all one needed from Tetris.

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That’s plenty of thanks from me. Greg Noe, over at The First Hour, came up with a good number of multiplayer games he’s thankful for–do check out his article as well! Do you have any games you’re extremely thankful exist? Speak up!