What Ghost of Yotei means to a first-time open world gamer: A gorgeous, blood-soaked Samurai epic

I grew up on Tekken and Mortal Combat. I could flex Kitana’s sword; use Sub Zero’s freezing powers and even kill with a Panda.

They were exulting combat games: I didn’t delve into the character’s stories; I played against my cousins in 1 minute duels and mashed controls, hoping to get a ‘brutality’, which, in video games terms means a move so devastating that it knocks off most of your health points.

 I made the mistake of applying the same logic to open-world games, and my first, true experience happened to be Ghost of Yotei,  a suggestion from my husband, an avid gamer. As I learnt 20 seconds into the game, what worked when you were 13 by fluke, doesn’t quite translate into a victory in such a game. This was a world where you were on your feet: You had the maps and skies to guide you, but you needed to win this on your own. It’s not a one minute battle anymore.

But in games like Ghosts of Yotei, you’re learning and watching. You’re watching a film of brutal, bloodthirsty, complex revenge that unfolds in the most cinematic way possible. The beginning storytelling itself draws you in: A crying child, surrounded by the dead bodies of her parents, while men, the Six Yotei, leave her for dead.  That’s our protagonist, a mercenary who returns to her homeland years, vowing to exact revenge and kill them all, one by one.

Atsu is transfixed on her bloodied quest, and that’s what makes her such a compelling character. She hits with her snark; doesn’t pay much heed to sober warnings of controlling her bloodlust, and sits with her Sake and salmon when she can. 

Voiced by Erika Ishii, you’re absorbed by her demeanour and cold rage, and your heart bleeds too, a little, whenever she has recollections of her family. It’s these little moments that make playing Ghosts of Yotei so bittersweet, from playing the shamsen with her wise mother, or being taught how to spar by her father. It’s a painful, heartbreaking quest as time progresses, with even a twist that might feel like a X punch in the gut. But, you keep going, doggedly, like Atsu.

 Moreover, as Atstu, your fighting skills slowly get upgraded: You move beyond just parrying and the correct timings of sword strikes. Gradually, you pick up the bows, arrows, and learn how to fight with katanas.

Considering I was entirely new to this format of combat: I took time to learn the coordination between the controls: When to block, when to hit back, and more importantly how to hit back. This whole game was a powerful insight into learning a certain coordination: Each button has a meaning. I couldn't mash them and hope for an easy win. When I started the game, I was in a haste at first, constantly running ahead and missing hints that could lead to different clues and conversations.

Pause. Swivel the camera. Take a good look all around. And then go. One particular learning curve was an attempt of climbing a mountain. Finding the right rock to climb, to looking for trees with ropes, and finally, swinging yourself, or rather Atsu up.

And finally, the gorgeous scenery.  It’s mesmerising, haunting and so visceral. Sometimes it’s the burning orange that lets you forget that this is a game. Sometimes it’s riding through fields of flowers. And sometimes, it’s the angry, raging skies and fire to signify bloodshed. It’s a cinematic masterpiece, and oddly calming to watch too.

Ghosts of Yotei is beautiful, brutal, and heartbreaking. It’s a movie. It’s a game, and it’s a story worth remembering.