I still remember the first time I climbed that crumbling watchtower in Flintlock's opening area—my character clinging to precarious handholds while cannon fire echoed somewhere below. That moment perfectly captured what makes this game's approach to adventure so special. Having played through the entire experience twice now, I can confidently say Flintlock's level design represents some of the most thrilling virtual exploration I've encountered in recent memory, particularly in how it handles vertical spaces and rewards curiosity.
What struck me immediately was how the developers completely abandoned traditional labyrinthine designs in favor of these expansive, multi-layered environments. You're not navigating twisting corridors that double back on themselves endlessly—instead, you're moving through these grand, almost cinematic spaces that stretch both horizontally and, more importantly, vertically. I spent roughly 45 hours with the game according to my playtime tracker, and I'd estimate about 60% of that was spent climbing, jumping, and discovering routes I initially thought were just background decoration. The freedom this verticality provides transforms what could have been straightforward journeys from point A to point B into genuine adventures where the path upward matters as much as the path forward.
I've always been the type of player who can't resist checking what's behind that suspicious-looking rock formation or whether I can actually reach that distant ledge. Flintlock understands this compulsive exploration better than most games I've played. The developers have scattered the landscape with what I'd call "exploration triggers"—subtle visual cues that whisper "come check this out" without resorting to obvious markers. During my second playthrough, I deliberately tracked how often these diversions paid off, and I'd say about 85% of the time, taking that extra minute to climb that extra wall revealed something valuable. Sometimes it was upgrade materials—I found 23 different crafting resources this way—other times it was those health-boosting shrines that literally saved my progress on multiple occasions.
The beauty of this design philosophy is how it creates this wonderful rhythm to exploration. You'll be moving through what seems like a straightforward path when suddenly you notice a climbable surface off to the side. Scaling it might reveal a hidden cave system with valuable resources, or it might simply offer a breathtaking vista that makes you pause and appreciate the world-building. I particularly remember one evening session where I discovered three separate hidden areas in the Sunken City region within about 20 minutes—each containing unique loot that significantly improved my gear. These moments never felt like checklist completion but rather organic discoveries that made me feel clever for paying attention to my surroundings.
What I appreciate most is how Flintlock avoids punishing players for exploration. Some games make venturing off the path frustratingly difficult or filled with overpowered enemies, but here, the developers clearly want you to investigate every nook. The rewards consistently match the effort required—a short climb might yield common materials, while a complex multi-stage ascent could reveal permanent stat upgrades or new abilities. I found this balance particularly satisfying because it respected my time while still encouraging thorough exploration. After my first complete playthrough, I had discovered approximately 67% of the game's secrets according to the in-game tracker, yet I never felt like I was grinding—every discovery felt earned and meaningful.
The vertical spaces themselves are masterclasses in environmental storytelling. Rather than just being empty geometry to climb, each layered area tells a piece of the world's history. I recall one specific fortress where ascending through its various levels gradually revealed how it fell to ruin—from the intact battlements where defenders made their last stand to the collapsed chambers below where something darker had taken root. This approach made the act of climbing feel purposeful beyond just reaching the next objective. It transformed the environment from backdrop to character, and that's a design achievement few games manage to pull off so consistently.
Having completed the main campaign and most side content, I can say with confidence that Flintlock's commitment to vertical exploration has permanently raised my standards for adventure games. The sensation of spotting a distant platform, figuring out the route to reach it, and being rewarded with meaningful content never grew stale across my 45-hour journey. It's that perfect blend of challenge and reward that makes virtual exploration so compelling when executed well. While the combat system is solid and the story engaging, for me, it's these moments of discovery—these opportunities to venture off the beaten path and be consistently rewarded—that will stick with me longest. The game understands that true adventure isn't just about reaching destinations but cherishing everything found along the way, especially when that journey takes you to unexpected heights.