I used to like Assassin’s Creed. I enjoyed the climbing and stabbing.
There are lots of reasons to dislike the games, though: super-linear mission structure, the AAA obsession with cutscenes, the twitchy and cluttered controls. I can live with those, though. I played these games year after year because, okay, I can hold down three buttons to run if I really have to. I can deal with the merciless checkpointing. This game does running, jumping, climbing and stabbing like nobody’s business, and that’s why I loved them.
“Loved”. Past tense.
With Assassin’s Creed 3, though, I just couldn’t ignore it any more: the series is, in a word, sickening.
By which I mean it mouths off about this, that and the other – it gets up on its high horse at every opportunity – to make itself feel good. To make us feel good. To congratulate us on how…
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