Downpour is… difficult for me to make heads or tails of. At one end it’s an extremely expansive addition to Rain World’s universe in continuity, gameplay, causing the fandom to utterly erupt in size. In essence, Downpour IS Rain World now; a vast majority of fan content now revolves around the material it created, and by sheer volume it is far larger than its base components. Considering its origins as a fan mod, it’s extremely impressive how it garnered such acclaim and popularity, and I think the ambition to create something so transformative and wide in scope is to be lauded. Yet, I’m left with something that leaves me personally ambivalent. What is shown as a collection of 5 interwoven campaigns advertised as one cohesive story feels much more disjointed on a more thematic level, failing to match the base game’s marriage of gameplay design and story.

What I did love is how it improved my skills in this game, giving me far better appreciation for the skill ceiling, technical moves, and combat the game features. I do think the general emphasis on the DLC slugs’ combat abilities really helps. Each slugcat provides a unique gameplay twist, while also generally being at least somewhat justifiable in a way that I don’t think affects the game’s harsh atmosphere that much (except for Saint). I do think the highlights here in terms of additions are the new regions; they are exceptionally well done aesthetically and do fit in well, how they shift and deteriorate as time passes in the world per campaigns. Particular highlights include Outer Expanse, a beautiful region depicting the home of the slugcats seen in Survivor’s intro, Looks to the Moon in Spearmaster’s campaign, providing a glimpse of her facility, in full glory but on the precipice of collapse, and Silent Construct, an amalgamation of all of Five Pebbles’ can components after his sacrifice leaving a dead, metallic, cold superstructure.

I’m less keen on the new enemies; overall they’re generally underutilized or not very unique compared to the scugs. Those that are unique are rare, and the rest can essentially boil down to “what if we made a Red Lizard but slow, clumsy and caramel, or a Centipede that could swim in water”, or most egregiously, a Vulture with insta-kill beaks and lasers that feels way overtuned. Compared to the rest of the game’s mechanical additions it doesn’t really have as much care put into it, but even still then can provide unique spins in encounters, and Rain World’s gameplay loop is still as fresh as ever.

The campaigns themselves are… interesting. I think all of them are fun and bring something unique, but there’s always something major that impacts my enjoyment of them. Gourmand is probably the most untouched of the new campaigns, being very similar to Survivor’s except for a different final region and ending, with an emphasis on movement tricks, damage, and food. It’s not a very lore-intensive campaign which makes it more of a fun ride, though I’d argue the tonal shift of appreciating life feels a bit discordant with how the game plays and the base game’s theming in making the cycles painful directly through the punishing gameplay (and Gourmand’s spawns are harder than Survivor’s). I also don’t love the crafting system; some of the pairings are esoteric and others absurdly broken (ex. making explosive spears and what essentially amounts to black hole bombs). Overall, Gourmand was fun but not particularly deep or thought-provoking.

I think Artificer is overall the best campaign; a treatise on the consumption of revenge and how it can destroy you, and how even trying to fully resolve your trauma may not be possible. I think it also does the best of marrying motivations; Five Pebbles is annoyed of scavengers infesting his can, and they killed your slugpups. The fact deaths aren’t that punishing for the main route and that you’re always at negative reputation means combat with scavs can be fully indulged, which though at times is excessive is also very enjoyable. With your parry, stun and jump abilities, it’s Rain World combat at its most thrilling. I do wish grabbing scavenger bodies and using their karma to pass gates was more utilized, as the most-traveled route is almost always karma 1 doors. I think the worst thing about this campaign is that sometimes the scav kill squad spawns are absolutely absurd, as in “I can’t get to the next room because their corpses are stuffing the pipes” levels of bad. I’m also not in love with its last set piece, a combat gauntlet leading to a final boss. I really don’t think RW’s gameplay philosophy really works with boss fights, given you die in one hit while the boss must be hit several times, and the litany of spears. I had to cheese it to win. Still, I think this is the best part of the DLC overall, having better thematic resonance than the other DLC campaigns and the most unique spin on RW’s gameplay. Does it play like base RW? No, but it’s something unique, enjoyable and exemplifies one of the game’s oft-underrated traits.

Spearmaster’s campaign is probably the most frustrating; it’s the only one where the slugcat’s gimmicks are hampered halfway through (carrying a pearl that you can’t store as you don’t have a mouth, meaning you lose dual spears). I had passages that allowed me to skip the backtracking, but if you don’t, I’d imagine that traversing with said pearl is an utter slog given if you lose it, you have to redo the cycle again. It’s a shame too, considering that it is by far the most expansive from a world-building perspective, as you’re sent by 2 iterators as a last-ditch effort to prevent FP from collapsing Moon’s can via water consumption. I like the idea behind expanding the iterators here and it generally works, but their tone feels distinctly emotional as opposed to their detachment in the base game (even in logs discussing the same events). Something about the way they’re written here just doesn’t feel right to me, I don’t know, but I’m not the only one who’s noticed judging by other reviews. However, exploring Looks to the Moon was wonderful; it’s aesthetically gorgeous, the music is incredible, and her final farewell in the wake of your failure to stop FP was my favorite bit of writing from the DLC and a nice end point for the prequel campaigns.

Rivulet is solid, but its short length gives it very little impact. I think they’re fun to play overall due to their extreme movement, much like Artificer is best at exemplifying the game’s combat. Though it’s not perfect, I do like what’s done here narratively, as Five Pebbles tries his best to make up for what he did to Moon by entrusting you with delivering his last power source to her, as the Rot has fully consumed him. I kind of just wish there was more to it, the gimmicks make the campaign way easier in the second half and it sort of just speeds by. I also do find Riv probably the least detached in terms of their goal, here it kind of just feels like Rivulet is helping make amends between FP and LTTM for the sake of an adventure, to the point Moon questions why you even helped her if you return to a completed save file.

Saint is ultimately my least favorite campaign, and it’s unfortunate, because it’s the most interesting of the bunch, providing an coda to the game’s world and characters. Taking place far in the future, I do love how transformative it is. Seeing the world suffer from an entropic cold that slowly saps Saint’s energy and makes the campaign more visually hostile is novel, as almost everything is frozen over. Five Pebbles is now in ruin, the rot and lack of power leading to his collapse. That all too familiar pathway from Chimney Canopy to the Wall being just gone made it really set in for me. I wish I could heap praise onto it; I saw many people hype up the campaign as the best part of the DLC, but Saint is where DP’s cracks really show.

To start with, Saint’s gameplay never really becomes enjoyable to me. The tougher spawns make the first half of the campaign tedious, where you have practically no self-defense. You’d think the ice age would lead to a more quiet, solemn campaign as the fauna struggle to adapt, but I digress. The tongue is a nice ability that opens up traversal, but compared to other scugs’ movement options, it just feels like a slightly altered version of grappling worms. Once reaching all the echoes, you’re given the ability to ascend enemies and fly on a shared recharge. Even disregarding how this trivializes every enemy in the overworld due to it being an instant kill, it’s finicky to control and makes the tongue kind of moot. While many of Downpour’s scugs have abilities that may not necessarily jive well with the game’s built-in difficulty and themes, they felt like a somewhat reasonable adaptation. Having ascension powers felt like a huge thematic deviation gameplay-wise from the base game given your decentering in the narrative and environment, and a deviation thematically from the DLC which is generally far more pessimistic with regards to ascension.

I’m also not sure about the echo dialogue changes and the anthropomorphizing of the Void Sea; it seems to have physically expanded upward with malicious intent, but on the other hand you’re ascending animals left and right using knowledge from Echoes that have turned on the belief system that got them there. It just feels very dissonant with both the base game’s ideas of escaping the cycles within a world you fundamentally can’t change, that is as it is, and DP’s favoring of life’s value even amidst its cyclical nature. I think it would’ve been fine if the game was being more explicit regarding ascension and enacting that onto others, or adding ambiguity if it was at least willing to engage the topic and its morality. Here you have a perfect chance with Five Pebbles and Looks to the Moon, both run down due to their circumstances and mistakes, but perhaps learning the value of life after going through much hardship, as DP seems to lean. Unfortunately, I feel the DLC doesn’t take this opportunity; they remain noncognizant of your ascension abilities, dying in silence. I understand FP’s reactions given his state, but even LTTM’s overseers nor her facility even acknowledge her passing, a disappointing deviation from their reactivity in the base game. As such the actual process of ascending them personally just felt hollow.

Something I noticed in general is that despite Downpour’s general turn in direction to making the slugcats extremely important to the narrative and our view of the world, I feel it’s still missing some of the reactivity of the original. There’s alternate endings, but their execution is lacking, most notably with the Outer Expanse endings available for Monk and Survivor. Instead of ascending, they find their home, the former reuniting with the latter when going to OE. Now, though I’m indecisive on these endings (the dream sequences imply they’ve given up seeing their family, but at the same time they also did assume that they had ascended), my biggest gripe is that Monk’s version always leads to them meeting up with their sibling, even if you ascended Survivor. I’m not sure why this permutation wasn’t considered, it feels incredibly jarring and could’ve led to something really emotional. Similarly, Moon’s overseers don’t really give a shit if you ascend her as Saint.

Unfortunately, the final region Rubicon just sucks. I like the concept of it being oddly interpolated existing regions, but it’s essentially a giant, linear combat gauntlet with the hardest enemies in the game, and I had horrendous framerate drops with Miros Vultures and Guardians on the same screen (which considering the preciseness required to aim Saint’s relatively small ascension beam is frustrating). It’s arguably the worst combat segment in the game. The ending similarly leaves me disenchanted. FP and LTTM’s dialogue at the end of Rubicon leaves it very ambiguous whether ascending them even did anything, questioning if they truly escaped, or if they are just in a dream. It ends with Saint attempting to ascend a Void Worm, which results in them being completely drained of karma, seemingly becoming an echo as a result, and being sent back to the beginning of their campaign to relive their memories over again (though the fact you can transfer items between playthroughs via your stomach muddies it even more).

I’m not opposed to interpretative story elements; the base game does it all the time, and there are other games I enjoy with obscure interpretations/lore. However, Saint’s campaign to me oversteps the line because I don’t think any interpretation makes sense on its own merit. If Saint is a bodhisattva-esque figure who tries to help ascend all other beings before themselves, much like the Triple Affirmative was desired to be, what was the purpose of even going to Rubicon, which seems to end their mission early? If they’re anti-ascension, why do they impose it on other species, and why even go to Rubicon to get themselves stuck in echo hell? If this is Saint’s character arc, I don’t think DP communicates it very well either. Dev statements made after release if anything narrows potential theories even more (as they explicitly deconfirmed Saint’s origin as a triple affirmative and how Sliver of Straw potentially ascended, despite it being the subject of Challenge 70). Unfortunately, it feels like DP collapses at its finish line; like Saint themselves, I’m stuck cyclically trying to decipher what was even going on here.

It’s still a fun and brutal romp through the ever-shifting climate of Rain World, as always. Unfortunately, for a DLC whose aim was to expand and provide a full view of the Rain World timeline, it falters and kind of drags the whole thing down. Every campaign had something that bothered me. Either the campaign’s structure itself didn’t feel finely tuned by virtue of mid-campaign twists, weird balancing, or short length, or it felt thematically jarring either with the base game or itself. To speak nothing of the numerous technical issues with level geometry, performance, crashing, etc. that I had to deal with that wasn’t present in the base game. Most of all though, I can’t really make sense of what the DLC is generally trying to say. On the one hand, Rivulet, Gourmand, and Spearmaster give a sense that life is still precious in Rain World, it’s sacred, it’s worth protecting, despite the hostility, the rains, the infinitely repeating cycles. At the same time, Artificer warns against falling to life’s vices to the point it destroys you without any sort of enlightenment being possible, and Saint’s campaign makes the DLC’s anti-ascension slant way more tangled up.

Rain World very much is a game that reciprocates what you put into it, and I never could open myself up to DP; I guess I could chalk that up to just not being the experience the original was for me. Regardless, I think experimentation is better than rote repetition. The MSC team took a lot of commendable risks from a story and gameplay perspective releasing this, and there was a ton of content I didn’t get to experience myself (ex. expeditions, challenges, etc.). While Downpour swings for the fences, and misses frequently, I’m glad it exists, at the very least to give Rain World the flowers it deserves. Despite my numerous issues with Downpour, it feels bittersweet to finally close my chapter on one of the most unique worlds and games in the medium.

Six years. It’s been 6 long years since I last touched this game, only a couple of months after it became a bonafide phenomenon. My first real indie game, it was foundational, giving me my love for the indie scene, and my teen self really enjoyed its themes of exercising patience and practice non-violence, empathy, and self-defense juxtaposed with an industry far removed from such themes. Since then, I’ve played far more games, including its major inspiration in the MOTHER series and widened my horizons to a gaming landscape foreign to my former Nintendo/Yearly Sports Release™ loving self.

And yet, I was afraid of replaying it, as my tastes have changed dramatically. I’m… a bit mixed on Deltarune. From a mechanical, gameplay, and aesthetic perspective, it is undoubtedly better than Undertale. The comic tone of 90% of the currently released chapters didn’t really land with me, and while there are some interesting themes of player control and freedom of choice, they haven’t yet really developed nor are super appealing to me as of now (I'll chalk this one up to not really enjoying the release strategy, I would've preferred to wait until the full game came out). In these regards, Chapter 2 was a solid improvement, but Chapter 1 really sort of made me feel disillusioned as it was around that time that I lost interest in following the franchise. Coupling that with me generally losing interest or not enjoying games of the “quirky RPG” variety besides MOTHER, and being worried about how well its thematic layers hold up after so long, I was afraid that my nostalgia for the game wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny.

I was wrong to be so scared. While some elements haven’t aged as gracefully, overall, this game comes together in a way that made it far better than I thought it was going to be. Something that I appreciate now is that despite the game often taking control away from the player through bouts of humorous cutscenes, the game is remarkably well-paced from region to region. The Ruins works as a nice tutorial over the game’s basic gameplay and premise, and Waterfall serves as a very atmospheric (and at times tense) midpoint between the more setpiece-oriented ends of the game. Given how short it is, it does its job well enough I think as it ramps up the more serious elements as you progress.

I think the “bullet-hell meets RPG” gameplay was a solid twist, especially when the rules are changed (mostly in bosses) and force you to adjust your playing to account for the change in mechanics. While Toby would refine it into something more dynamic in Deltarune, it’s still solid, if basic today (I’m surprised the gameplay’s controversial today). Non-boss combat is at its best when many enemies are on screen, allowing for patterns to combine and merge. I like the dichotomy of how the low encounter rate sort of incentivizes a more pacifistic approach to gameplay (given this is the route the game would rather you be on) along with other tweaks (ex. if you’re pacifistic, you can generally avoid spending money on weapons and instead focus on armor, you can buy less effective healing items as your HP never increases, etc.). It’s balanced enough for combat to not get tiring (given sparing’s flowchartiness). The biggest reward of being pacifistic is that Toby rewards you with more character interaction (what he excels at), even if through simple 10-minute scenes, which works well for the length of this game.

Obviously, it also goes without saying that the soundtrack is both iconic and incredible to this day. It’s eclectic in the wide usage of sound fonts and motifs but it sets the game apart and is IMO some of the best you can find in the medium. It’s hard to even highlight specific tracks because they are so many bangers. If I had to pick, a couple of my favorites are Waterfall, Another Medium, Bergentrückung, Finale, Hopes and Dreams, Battle Against a True Hero, the title track, An Ending, and Respite.

I think what I most held under scrutiny when revisiting the game was the writing and story. Does it hold up? I would say that it does, but not entirely. I feel elements of the humor definitely didn't age as well, which I expected. Papyrus’s high-strung and overly naive/boastful personality clashing with Sans's laid-back and absurd jokes works, but the humor sort of loses its groove as you enter Hotland. I didn’t find Alphys’s clumsy sheepishness that funny, especially in conjunction with the weaker setpieces of Mettaton’s kinda repetitive TV show, and there are other segments that just don’t really work as well. Even so, when the jokes didn't land in the way they were intended, it sort of worked sometimes as a form of anti-humor as it can get really silly. It’s perfectly understandable that this would put someone off enjoying the game though, it occupies a LOT of the runtime and if it doesn’t work for you, I don’t think you’re likely to finish the game.

However, if you can handle the game's unabashedly eccentric tone and characters, they are very likable. I think the best way to describe them is very personable and distinct, if not particularly deep character portraits (it is like a 6-hour game per playthrough, I'm not expecting much). I think this is entirely subjective, but there's a sort of twee sincerity to the tone of the game that made the humor fit in better (even when it’s not really funny) and boosts the more emotional moments (and I think for me this is where a lot of games of this type fail to hit the mark, that they just aren’t really as “sincere” to me). The more involved setpieces, especially near the end of the game are where the writing shines best for me and combining it with the soundtrack and charming characters makes it very effective. True Pacifist was as sentimental and heartwarming as I remember it being.

The game thematically is still very well done as a rejection of the standard JRPG gameplay of mindlessly killing rows of nameless husks. Is it subtle? Absolutely not. Is it effective though? I think so. Little touches like the game chastising the player if you reset a previous run due to killing someone and generally being cognizant of what you’ve done and how that impacts people helps convey the message the game is trying to deliver (the Neutral endings, in particular, being a smart but inexpensive way to personalize each possible route depending on who you spared). I find its critique of the player’s choices on the genocide run especially effective as the game knows most people's motivation is borne of curiosity and completionism rather than hatred (even down to critiquing those who simply choose to watch those playthroughs as "sickos that stand around and WATCH it happen… but are too weak to do it themselves. I bet someone like that’s watching right now, aren’t they?"). I wouldn’t say the game is a complete deconstruction of the JRPG more that it satirizes and manipulates specific tropes (ex. having “monsters” that do not act like malicious, thoughtless creatures, the EXP/LV twist, SAVE/LOADing). In that sense, I think the meta elements take a backseat and isn’t as developed as the more focused and effective commentary on player morality, but both work well.

I will have to say I think the only part where the game confuses itself narratively and thematically is with The Fallen Human (the one you name) and their role in the story. A big twist is that you expect to name the character after the one you’re controlling (like most JRPGs), but you’re actually naming the first human who fell down (whereas the protagonist is the 7th). In Genocide, they’re used sort of as a representation of the satisfaction of when a JRPG player’s stats rise when winning a fight. IMO it seems like commentary on the bloodlusted design of JRPGs, and so, given how you just played, it feels like you’re meant to be one and the same (especially with the way Flowey refers to the player by the Fallen Human’s name in all routes, not just Genocide). However, their backstory shows they’re their own character who was important to the Underground, and who had their own issues with morality. I’m not sure if they’re meant to be a character who suffered a poor childhood leading to their fall that we should have some empathy for, if they’re simply a representation of remorseless violence committed by the player in JRPGs, or both? Maybe I missed something, but it feels like the game sort of wants to have its cake and eat it too in that regard. It’s a minor element though.

Ultimately it feels like this game is greater than the sum of its, to quote Toby himself, “8/10, niche RPG” parts, even nearing 7 years removed from its release. I do have to knock it for some of its messier qualities, like it not being as funny today, it being relatively basic gameplay-wise (fun as it was), and some quibbles with minor thematic and story elements (True Lab in particular coming out of nowhere). If you can get over its notable flaws, though, it does enough to set it apart and above most of its contemporaries, including some of its inspirations. For the size of its dev team, it’s remarkably ambitious, it’s thematically solid, its characters affable, and it wears its heart on its sleeve (or quite literally, on its desktop icon). This game left an indelible mark on the gaming industry, especially in the indie scene, and regardless of what comes next for this type of indie RPG, this franchise, and Toby himself, I’m both glad to have played and revisited it all this time later, taking me back to a time where things just felt less jaded. Its honesty, whimsicality, and unique atmosphere still make it worth experiencing in 2022, spoiled or not. Despite everything, it's still Undertale, even after all these years.