The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

[JesusOfCool]

die SE ist die normale. oder eigentlich wird sie vielmehr zur normalen. nach weihnachten oder so.

[Wulgaru]

Jap, die meinte ich...naja...das was mich an der LE am meisten reizt ist einteiliges Motion Plus. Das will ich eigentlich wirklich noch haben. Die Dinger kosten meines Wissens nach fast 40 Euro oder?

[Chigai]

die SE ist die normale. oder eigentlich wird sie vielmehr zur normalen. nach weihnachten oder so.

Ich kann mich täuschen, aber ich glaube eher, die Normale wird eine Version sein, die keine Soundtrack-CD hat und die SE wurde voll ausgeschrieben als "Special Edition" deklariert. Ist aber vieleicht nur ein Marketingkniff.

Jap, die meinte ich...naja...das was mich an der LE am meisten reizt ist einteiliges Motion Plus. Das will ich eigentlich wirklich noch haben. Die Dinger kosten meines Wissens nach fast 40 Euro oder?

Ja stimmt, derzeit €38,50 bei Amazon.

[JesusOfCool]

ja, gut, dann gibts die normale eben erst ab nächstem jahr und dafür dann die anderen 2 nicht mehr.

[Chibiterasu]

Zahlt sich einfach aus das goldene Ding - imho.

Für die Wii U hab ich dann 3 Motes mit Plus Funktion und eines ist hoffentlich bei der Wii U dabei. Dann bin ich vollzählig.

[Chigai]

Wenn die neuen WiiMotes+ nicht so teuer wären (€115,50), würde ich meine bisherigen 2 Weiße und 1 Schwarze mit den klobigen Aufsätzen umgehend ersetzen. Ich rechne mir schlechte Chancen aus, meine alten Gebrauchten zu einem guten Preis loswerden zu können.

[Rooster]

wahrscheinlich hat schon jemand danach gefragt aber gibt es noch einen link zum review vom edge magazine? in irgendeinem forum oder so bin echt neugierig was die schreiben weil bei denen eine 10/10 wirklich selten ist...

[Armoran]

wahrscheinlich hat schon jemand danach gefragt aber gibt es noch einen link zum review vom edge magazine? in irgendeinem forum oder so bin echt neugierig was die schreiben weil bei denen eine 10/10 wirklich selten ist...

Das EDGE Review ist ein bißchen "blumig" geschrieben... nennen wir es mal so... ich glaube das kann man nur irgendwann verstehen wenn man es selbst gespielt hat.
Hab eine Idee wo ich es herbekomme, ich schau mal ob ich es für dich auf die schnelle finden kann...

/Edit: da ist es:

Pity the Deku Baba, Hyrule’s answer to the Venus Flytrap. Encountered early in the majority of 3D Zeldas, it has become a guinea pig for Nintendo’s keenest innovators. Slicing its stalk in Ocarina Of Time proved Nintendo’s Z-targeting had successfully tamed the wild frontier of 3D thirdperson combat. Thirteen years later, cold steel cleaves its head right along a slobbering jawline and you learn – with a slowly widening grin – that Nintendo has repeated the trick with motion controls. We’d salute the troubled flora if it wouldn’t result in Link chopping his own ear off. Such are the risks of one-to-one motion tracking.

Link’s blade mimics every nuance of the wrist. It points as you sound the charge, rises above the head in Braveheart defiance or rotates in the hand for quiet observation. Fidelity invites theatricality; pointing at Bokoblins in the order Link’s going to gut them is a meaningless gesture, but one loaded with samurai cool. In combat, which needs samurai skill, Nintendo weighs the fantasy of one-to-one freedom against its strict standards of usability. Too far one way and you’ve got Twilight Princess’ humourless Remote shaking; too far the other, and Trespasser’s flailing hands come to mind. Nintendo hits the sweet spot by massaging directional swipes into preset horizontal, vertical and diagonal attacks.

In the wake of the one-to-one tomfoolery, limiting actual cuts to eight compass points may sound robotic. In action, it is nothing short of revelatory. MotionPlus ably registers your play-acting – its unfaltering fidelity never once let us down – which Skyward Sword translates into the clean strikes you imagine. Delivering a deathblow with an opportune swipe is roleplaying of the purest kind, Link’s hand and yours outstretched in unison as a three-necked beast writhes on the floor. This is not the first time Link has lopped tentacles left, right and centre, but it is the first time hands have been left, right and centre with him. The victories are ours in a way they could never be with a traditional controller.

Freed from the shackles of buttons, Nintendo’s monster designers concoct a giddying bestiary of revamped favourites and startling debuts. Gelatinous blobs must be vigorously diced before they regroup, Stalfos dual-wield (and occasionally quadruple-wield) for added defence, and Lizalfos hide vulnerable bellies behind Hellboy-ish stone gauntlets. One striking industrial region hosts security drones whose glowing hinges beckon like dotted ‘cut here’ lines. No parental guidance is required, though younger adventurers may find it offered, if not enforced. The fact that one reoccurring boss boasts no greater gimmick than quick reflexes shows how far Skyward Sword has moved beyond earlier games.

MotionPlus permeates Link’s kitbag from items to interface. A simple thing like bombs differentiating between underarm bowls and overarm lobs rejuvenates an item long thought exhausted. Projectile weapons demonstrate a true breakthrough, rejecting Wii’s sensor bar for purely gyroscopic aiming. Tilting the Remote grants control finesse to rival Metroid Prime 3, untainted by the jitteriness of a hand held aloft. Comparing gliding archery here to Twilight Princess’ flighty bow cursor, we wonder why Nintendo didn’t pursue this avenue of control to begin with. The technology powers all in-game menus, picking between dialogue choices or navigating item wheels with the smoothest of gestures.

Since the ill-starred Skyward Sword E3 reveal, a din of control concerns drowned the dialogue around the game. As satiated dissenters descend into a revered hush they will discover what simmers beneath: this is a radical departure for Zelda. Before a sword even enters his hand we’ve met a uniquely athletic Link. A stamina meter governs climbing and dashing, turning steep inclines and vine-clad cliffs into nervous clambers between ledges and restorative fruits. Regions built around volcano ascents and sucking quicksand help rediscover a platforming challenge diminished in Zelda since the addition of auto jump.

And what a strange overworld to dash about in. Skyloft is over the world, yes, but the cloudy realm acts more as a hub to regions below. Imagine a halfway house between Majora’s Clock Town and Wind Waker’s ocean: a community of oddballs scattered across a sky archipelago. Considerably smaller than the sea, it makes up for it in a density of character. Islands hide bug collectors, sword enthusiasts and deranged clowns, many with minigames and most feeding into an overarching side-quest to rival Ocarina’s Skulltula hunt. And Skyloft’s small area is remedied in volume – flying high and disembarking into a tunic-rippling freefall is both totally unnecessary and absolutely essential.

Diving below reveals further rebellion against the old ways. Three self-contained regions – forest, volcano and desert – reject the conventional field/dungeon cycle by dragging Zelda’s legendary temple architects into the light. Before even reaching a dungeon’s doors Link is riding monster corpses across deadly sands, excavating keys from pillars of dirt and shuffling up vines in search of a tribe of paranoid birds. A newfound sense of purpose arises largely thanks to Link’s dowsing ability. Following a bleeping sword places clear objectives in the adventurous sprawl, imposing the artificial boundaries in which Zelda’s locked-roompuzzle mentality can flourish.

As for those puzzles? How’s this for a statement of intent: not a single torch-lighting number, and only one push-the-box-on-the-button incident. How does it have the nerve to call itself a celebration of 25 years of Zelda? Blame Link’s unusual toys. A flying beetle pulls players up into the rafters as digging claws bury deep into foundations. Add other tools that blow, yank, glide and drag, and designers have a juicy verb sheet with which to concoct fiendish head-scratchers. Where Twilight Princess’ gizmos gathered dust after glorious debut dungeons, Skyward Sword keeps its kitbag tight and in constant circulation with ingenious multitasking and surprise upgrades along the way.

A new user-led upgrade system, on the other hand, strikes Skyward Sword’s single dull note. Resembling a My First Monster Hunter, globs of goo and ornamental skulls are swapped for tougher shields, bigger ammo pouches and deadlier arrows. Scooping insects with a butterfly net lets you supercharge potions, too. But such avenues jar with an adventure balanced for the base items. Odds don’t need swinging in Link’s favour; they’re just right. If Nintendo had Zelda virgins in mind – with the upgrades as edge softeners – it seems strange to bury advantages in a collectibles system that speaks loudest to obsessive old hands. That said, the idea gains traction once the end credits have rolled.

Having broken moulds, Skyward Sword refuses to set others. No two hours are the same. Pirate ship chases become mine-cart rollercoasters become stronghold raids all in the course of one afternoon. Elsewhere, in a beautiful nod to Zelda’s dual-world tradition, one new gimmick causes two worlds to collide in a single space. When later acts see entire regions double back on themselves – either reinvented as terrifying stealth scrambles or disrupted by illtempered deities – you wonder if Nintendo has found the secret to infinite level design. Cézanne inspired the style, but it’s Magic Eye stereograms these levels within levels most resemble.

Unsurprisingly for a game with a key mechanic that involves flinging Link into tumbling freefall, a glint of matinee idol derring-do is never far from its eye. Its 35 hours – that’s ignoring a wealth of trinkets – fly by in a heroic blur of pirates, dragons and zombie-filled crypts. A reliance on riddles and cranking up ancient machines finds its treasure-hunting roots not in Wind Waker, but Indiana Jones. As cracked tablets lead to forgotten sanctums and mystic hymns stir memories in Link’s otherworldly aide, the hairs on the back of the neck bristle to salute a quest unique in its unabashed lack of irony. This is a game made for Christmas Day, released an agonising six weeks before.

Nintendo has been so busy elaborating on Ocarina’s heroic ideal that it’s forgotten to embrace it for itself. So what better way to honour 25 years of bravery than courageously striving for something new? And what opportune hardware to cut those ties. After all, hasn’t the Wii hardware spent the past five years searching for the hero inside itself? Firstparty experiments have tested Wii’s boundaries, deducing what does and doesn’t work. Their findings resonate throughout Skyward Sword. In Wii Sports-powered bomb bowling. In skydiving and swordplay learnt on a Wuhu holiday. In the surreal beauty and orchestral bombast beamed down from Super Mario Galaxy. In the metallic Metroid chu-chunk of a door lock. Even the opinion-dividing Wii Music is vindicated in subtle moments of auto-tuning cleverness. How apt that this ultimate tale of heromaking should see Nintendo’s hardware become the console it was always meant to be. [10]

[Chibiterasu]

http://www.next-gen.biz/reviews/legend- ... ord-review

Leider nicht mehr verfügbar. Sie haben das Embargo aus Versehen gebrochen - ab 11. kann man's wieder lesen.

[Rooster]

wahrscheinlich hat schon jemand danach gefragt aber gibt es noch einen link zum review vom edge magazine? in irgendeinem forum oder so bin echt neugierig was die schreiben weil bei denen eine 10/10 wirklich selten ist...

Das EDGE Review ist ein bißchen "blumig" geschrieben... nennen wir es mal so... ich glaube das kann man nur irgendwann verstehen wenn man es selbst gespielt hat.
Hab eine Idee wo ich es herbekomme, ich schau mal ob ich es für dich auf die schnelle finden kann...

/Edit: da ist es:

Pity the Deku Baba, Hyrule’s answer to the Venus Flytrap. Encountered early in the majority of 3D Zeldas, it has become a guinea pig for Nintendo’s keenest innovators. Slicing its stalk in Ocarina Of Time proved Nintendo’s Z-targeting had successfully tamed the wild frontier of 3D thirdperson combat. Thirteen years later, cold steel cleaves its head right along a slobbering jawline and you learn – with a slowly widening grin – that Nintendo has repeated the trick with motion controls. We’d salute the troubled flora if it wouldn’t result in Link chopping his own ear off. Such are the risks of one-to-one motion tracking.

Link’s blade mimics every nuance of the wrist. It points as you sound the charge, rises above the head in Braveheart defiance or rotates in the hand for quiet observation. Fidelity invites theatricality; pointing at Bokoblins in the order Link’s going to gut them is a meaningless gesture, but one loaded with samurai cool. In combat, which needs samurai skill, Nintendo weighs the fantasy of one-to-one freedom against its strict standards of usability. Too far one way and you’ve got Twilight Princess’ humourless Remote shaking; too far the other, and Trespasser’s flailing hands come to mind. Nintendo hits the sweet spot by massaging directional swipes into preset horizontal, vertical and diagonal attacks.

In the wake of the one-to-one tomfoolery, limiting actual cuts to eight compass points may sound robotic. In action, it is nothing short of revelatory. MotionPlus ably registers your play-acting – its unfaltering fidelity never once let us down – which Skyward Sword translates into the clean strikes you imagine. Delivering a deathblow with an opportune swipe is roleplaying of the purest kind, Link’s hand and yours outstretched in unison as a three-necked beast writhes on the floor. This is not the first time Link has lopped tentacles left, right and centre, but it is the first time hands have been left, right and centre with him. The victories are ours in a way they could never be with a traditional controller.

Freed from the shackles of buttons, Nintendo’s monster designers concoct a giddying bestiary of revamped favourites and startling debuts. Gelatinous blobs must be vigorously diced before they regroup, Stalfos dual-wield (and occasionally quadruple-wield) for added defence, and Lizalfos hide vulnerable bellies behind Hellboy-ish stone gauntlets. One striking industrial region hosts security drones whose glowing hinges beckon like dotted ‘cut here’ lines. No parental guidance is required, though younger adventurers may find it offered, if not enforced. The fact that one reoccurring boss boasts no greater gimmick than quick reflexes shows how far Skyward Sword has moved beyond earlier games.

MotionPlus permeates Link’s kitbag from items to interface. A simple thing like bombs differentiating between underarm bowls and overarm lobs rejuvenates an item long thought exhausted. Projectile weapons demonstrate a true breakthrough, rejecting Wii’s sensor bar for purely gyroscopic aiming. Tilting the Remote grants control finesse to rival Metroid Prime 3, untainted by the jitteriness of a hand held aloft. Comparing gliding archery here to Twilight Princess’ flighty bow cursor, we wonder why Nintendo didn’t pursue this avenue of control to begin with. The technology powers all in-game menus, picking between dialogue choices or navigating item wheels with the smoothest of gestures.

Since the ill-starred Skyward Sword E3 reveal, a din of control concerns drowned the dialogue around the game. As satiated dissenters descend into a revered hush they will discover what simmers beneath: this is a radical departure for Zelda. Before a sword even enters his hand we’ve met a uniquely athletic Link. A stamina meter governs climbing and dashing, turning steep inclines and vine-clad cliffs into nervous clambers between ledges and restorative fruits. Regions built around volcano ascents and sucking quicksand help rediscover a platforming challenge diminished in Zelda since the addition of auto jump.

And what a strange overworld to dash about in. Skyloft is over the world, yes, but the cloudy realm acts more as a hub to regions below. Imagine a halfway house between Majora’s Clock Town and Wind Waker’s ocean: a community of oddballs scattered across a sky archipelago. Considerably smaller than the sea, it makes up for it in a density of character. Islands hide bug collectors, sword enthusiasts and deranged clowns, many with minigames and most feeding into an overarching side-quest to rival Ocarina’s Skulltula hunt. And Skyloft’s small area is remedied in volume – flying high and disembarking into a tunic-rippling freefall is both totally unnecessary and absolutely essential.

Diving below reveals further rebellion against the old ways. Three self-contained regions – forest, volcano and desert – reject the conventional field/dungeon cycle by dragging Zelda’s legendary temple architects into the light. Before even reaching a dungeon’s doors Link is riding monster corpses across deadly sands, excavating keys from pillars of dirt and shuffling up vines in search of a tribe of paranoid birds. A newfound sense of purpose arises largely thanks to Link’s dowsing ability. Following a bleeping sword places clear objectives in the adventurous sprawl, imposing the artificial boundaries in which Zelda’s locked-roompuzzle mentality can flourish.

As for those puzzles? How’s this for a statement of intent: not a single torch-lighting number, and only one push-the-box-on-the-button incident. How does it have the nerve to call itself a celebration of 25 years of Zelda? Blame Link’s unusual toys. A flying beetle pulls players up into the rafters as digging claws bury deep into foundations. Add other tools that blow, yank, glide and drag, and designers have a juicy verb sheet with which to concoct fiendish head-scratchers. Where Twilight Princess’ gizmos gathered dust after glorious debut dungeons, Skyward Sword keeps its kitbag tight and in constant circulation with ingenious multitasking and surprise upgrades along the way.

A new user-led upgrade system, on the other hand, strikes Skyward Sword’s single dull note. Resembling a My First Monster Hunter, globs of goo and ornamental skulls are swapped for tougher shields, bigger ammo pouches and deadlier arrows. Scooping insects with a butterfly net lets you supercharge potions, too. But such avenues jar with an adventure balanced for the base items. Odds don’t need swinging in Link’s favour; they’re just right. If Nintendo had Zelda virgins in mind – with the upgrades as edge softeners – it seems strange to bury advantages in a collectibles system that speaks loudest to obsessive old hands. That said, the idea gains traction once the end credits have rolled.

Having broken moulds, Skyward Sword refuses to set others. No two hours are the same. Pirate ship chases become mine-cart rollercoasters become stronghold raids all in the course of one afternoon. Elsewhere, in a beautiful nod to Zelda’s dual-world tradition, one new gimmick causes two worlds to collide in a single space. When later acts see entire regions double back on themselves – either reinvented as terrifying stealth scrambles or disrupted by illtempered deities – you wonder if Nintendo has found the secret to infinite level design. Cézanne inspired the style, but it’s Magic Eye stereograms these levels within levels most resemble.

Unsurprisingly for a game with a key mechanic that involves flinging Link into tumbling freefall, a glint of matinee idol derring-do is never far from its eye. Its 35 hours – that’s ignoring a wealth of trinkets – fly by in a heroic blur of pirates, dragons and zombie-filled crypts. A reliance on riddles and cranking up ancient machines finds its treasure-hunting roots not in Wind Waker, but Indiana Jones. As cracked tablets lead to forgotten sanctums and mystic hymns stir memories in Link’s otherworldly aide, the hairs on the back of the neck bristle to salute a quest unique in its unabashed lack of irony. This is a game made for Christmas Day, released an agonising six weeks before.

Nintendo has been so busy elaborating on Ocarina’s heroic ideal that it’s forgotten to embrace it for itself. So what better way to honour 25 years of bravery than courageously striving for something new? And what opportune hardware to cut those ties. After all, hasn’t the Wii hardware spent the past five years searching for the hero inside itself? Firstparty experiments have tested Wii’s boundaries, deducing what does and doesn’t work. Their findings resonate throughout Skyward Sword. In Wii Sports-powered bomb bowling. In skydiving and swordplay learnt on a Wuhu holiday. In the surreal beauty and orchestral bombast beamed down from Super Mario Galaxy. In the metallic Metroid chu-chunk of a door lock. Even the opinion-dividing Wii Music is vindicated in subtle moments of auto-tuning cleverness. How apt that this ultimate tale of heromaking should see Nintendo’s hardware become the console it was always meant to be. [10]

hey super, tausend dank

[Muramasa]

http://www.gameinformer.com/b/news/arch ... ility.aspx
uh uh awesome, maybe wieder ein zelda von oben?

"We are talking about a new game, but it takes much of what has been done on previous handhelds.”

[Beam02]

Ich spekuliere ja noch darauf, dass die "normale" Version von SkyS, also die, die sicher irgendwann nächstes Jahr kommt, nochmal ein anderes Cover haben wird. Zum Beispiel das Artwork, bei dem Link auf seinem Vogel sitzt. Afaik bekommt Japan ja ohnehin ein anderes Cover als wir.
Ich bin gerade echt versucht, meine Special Edition zusammen mit der LE vorbestellt zu lassen. Dann hätte ich die LE, die SE und könnte mir nächstes Jahr noch die normale Edition holen.
Aber der November ist eh schon so teuer... argh >.<

[Muramasa]

zelda ss hat auch von gameinformer 10/10 bekommen.
http://www.gameinformer.com/b/news/arch ... eview.aspx
man immer so geizig mit den elfen.

[Chigai]

zelda ss hat auch von gameinformer 10/10 bekommen.
http://www.gameinformer.com/b/news/arch ... eview.aspx
man immer so geizig mit den elfen.

Verflixtes Spoilerbild. Ein interessantes Item hab' ich da zu sehen bekommen. Noch 14 Tage...