I find it hard to connect with the current "Fantasy" games.
I find it hard to connect with the current "Fantasy" games.
I have played Ragnarok Online all from my 11 years old to 14 years old and I can relate to what you mentioned towards MMORPG, nowadays I haven't touched any in a very long time, Elves are nice sure but still quite mainstream... @Sniperfox47 Yes I very much understand your point, and me being a "furry" girl I end up having considerable less "representation" on what's marketed
Absolutely, niche indie titles are worth exploring! If you enjoyed Spyro and Banjo-Kazooie, you might also like Yooka-Laylee. You're unlikely to be left wanting.
Shifting from our everyday life into a different realm of beings often means addressing challenges from our own experiences, but not directly. Instead, we reflect these issues through the lens of an imagined world. This method is useful for teaching. Since the main figures are animals, they serve as an effective way to introduce kids to important themes. Each creature stands for a human trait or flaw, and the story’s events center around those qualities. In short, it’s a fable. It’s clear why such settings can seem simplified or aimed at younger audiences. Or perhaps it helps avoid criticism of real-world issues depicted in the narrative. Writers have historically used fables to challenge leaders, institutions, or even entire societies of their time. Still, I can imagine a video game like Oddworld. The setting is strange, and director Lorne Lanning crafted this imaginary world to comment on consumerism. He did so very effectively. The initial title focuses on a factory worker—part mudokon, still human-like—who discovers the harsh realities at Rupture Farms. This species once ruled Oddworld but was subjugated by the Glukkons, who sought progress through science and industry. Their rise came not via war, but through collaboration and exploitation. Over time, the mudokons were oppressed, their environment drained for production. The game highlights a parallel to today’s human society. Meanwhile, the protagonist listens to Rupture Farms’ executives discuss plans to replace Meech Cakes with something new. Mudokon would be forced into labor again. This mirrors real concerns about resource depletion and ethical production. Early in the story, a meadow creature warns of this future. Later, the Glukkons turn on their former allies, turning the mudokons into another group of slaves. The game ends with the protagonist escaping, freeing more mudokons and destroying the factory. The second installment reinforces the anti-consumerism theme, showing how workers are manipulated and exploited. This time, the setting is a brewery where bones are mined for soda production, and workers are addicted to the drink. The message is clear: not only is this story meant to entertain, but it’s also a critique of industrial practices. The third game places you as a last Gabbit, another species driven to extinction by the Glukkons. You hear a scream one night and find yourself trapped in a trap. The opening scene strongly conveys the same warning. Looking back, these games were released in the late 90s—years ago. From another angle, they could simply be imaginative tales with whimsical elements, meant for fun and escapism rather than direct instruction. They rarely aim to teach; instead, they seek to entertain while subtly pointing out certain truths. In such cases, a human protagonist is often more relatable. Playing as an animal character feels less natural, which limits its appeal. I recall the game Shelter, where you play as a badger mother protecting her cubs on the move. It had a fresh idea at first but lacked lasting depth. Still, it offered a unique experience before becoming repetitive. Overall, there’s limited enthusiasm for non-human protagonists in this genre. Studios tend to favor familiar formats—first-person shooters, open worlds, third-person action—and prefer safe bets they know will succeed.