At 2.15 pm today, 03 November 2025, I completed a game called The Frostrune. The game was developed by Grimnir Media and published by Snow Cannon Games, first released in 2017. It opens quietly with a shipwreck and the slow reveal of an abandoned Norse settlement surrounded by dark forest and coastline. The visuals are hand-painted and the sound design feels restrained, almost careful. The music has a Norse weight to it, and the pacing is deliberate. The story moves in small pieces, each scene linking to another through space rather than dialogue.

If you stumble upon this puzzle while playing, you will see the little girl standing with the Viking spirits. That is us, the player. We are written into the prophecy, destined to complete it. The introduction draws you in because it does not rush. You begin by walking the shore, searching through forgotten cabins and rune stones, learning through fragments what kind of place you have entered. The world feels old and silent, but not dead. The game leans on its northern folklore deeply, letting symbols, tools, and ruins tell parts of the story that the characters do not. You are left to interpret meaning the way an archaeologist might. That quietness becomes its rhythm.

How The Game Is Played

The Frostrune is a point-and-click adventure built around Norse myth and ancient ritual. You explore the island through first-person perspective, gathering objects, decoding runes, unlocking mechanisms, and piecing together fragments of its story. There are no battles or weapons, only observation and connection. Each puzzle requires careful memory and logic. You match symbols, align instruments, open chests, and understand how one item relates to another in a network of clues.

I finished the game in just a few hours because the number of quests is fewer than in other games I have played. The structure is simple and the focus stays on observation. It rewards players who remember small details. If you forget what you have seen, you will probably retrace your steps more than once. It is a game that would work perfectly on a tablet. The control style fits a relaxed posture where the mind, not the reflex, does the work.

The Puzzle That Stayed With Me

One of my favourite parts is the section where you must arrange musical notes, and when done correctly, the Vikings sing the sequence in harmony. It comes with this piece of verse that stays in memory:

“Four warriors guard the great Wolf’s chest
Bound by duty beyond death’s call
Listen to their songs of great deeds done
And bear witness to their final notes

For every duty at last must end
Every song at last is sung
In the eternal peace of Hel’s embrace:

Pink sings the swordsman, the highest note
Shorter axe sings deepest note in orange
His brother with spear joins his blue note
And the long axe sings in green hues.”

It is one of those moments where the game’s folklore and music merge into something complete. When the harmony resolves, you feel the story closing in on itself.

Reflections and Ending

What I love most about The Frostrune is how it treats the folklore with respect. The runes, the witch, the Viking remnants, all exist as part of the landscape. Nothing feels placed just to impress. It is a quiet balance between human story and mythic presence. The witch figure especially ties the past and present together, guiding you through her memory.

Reaching the end was neither satisfying nor disappointing. It felt like relief. The circle closed and the island was at rest. I was ready to leave, not because I was bored, but because the story had reached its silence. I will look for similar games later, something that carries the same northern stillness, where myth breathes through the trees and every sound feels deliberate.

If anyone has recommendations for horror or mystery games rooted in northern Scandinavian folk tradition with traditional elements like runes, creatures, and forest rituals, I would like to hear them.

Labels: Game, motivation, Songs and Lyrics, Windows and Softwares

At 12.28 a.m. on 2 November 2025 I finished Through the Woods, a third person Norwegian horror adventure developed by the indie studio Antagonist and published by 1C Publishing EU. The game was released in 2016 and maintains an intentionally restrained pace and atmosphere. Its environments draw from the Norwegian coastline and dense forest interiors, the lighting is deliberately minimal, and the story unfolds in short, deliberate beats. It is played as a walk through memory and clue, not as an exercise in combat or spectacle, and the design insists you pay attention to what is left unsaid as much as to what is shown.

This post includes spoilers. If you have not played the game and intend to, stop here.

Through the Woods places you in the role of Karen, a mother searching for her missing son, Espen. The viewpoint is third person, the camera close enough to feel like an observer and distant enough to keep some detail offscreen. Progression is driven by exploration, by reading notes and piecing together small narrative fragments, and by moving through spaces that shift between the literal and the folkloric. You do not receive weapons or direct means to fight. The tension is generated by movement, by timing, and by the limitations the game imposes on the player. Survival is procedural rather than mechanical: you avoid, you hide, you use light sparingly, and you decide when to press forward.

Practical note: I will not invent how the scenes affected me emotionally beyond what I have said. I attempted to revive Espen and I predicted the ending from the clue about Erik. Those are actions and observations. I finished the game while needing distraction from other tasks and responsibilities. The soundtrack in the credits is one concrete detail I plan to track down. The character is explicitly revealed at the end and her choices become clear in the final scenes.

Finally, a personal aside in plain terms. My cat Bulou died today. She had a long standing tumour in her left eye. I buried her earlier. I hope she is at peace and no longer in pain.

Labels: Game, motivation, spooky, Windows and Softwares

At 2.22 a.m. today, 26 October 2025, I finished playing an old horror game called Unforgiving: A Northern Hymn. Developed by Angry Demon Studio in Sweden and released in 2017, it’s a slow, strange, and heavy game about fear and folklore. The language switches between Swedish and English, which somehow makes everything more real. It feels foreign but believable, like being lost somewhere you were warned not to enter.

I startled myself a few times. While playing in some scenes, I knew I shouldn’t look back, but I still did. Sometimes it killed me. Sometimes it didn’t. Either way, it worked.

The ending wasn’t satisfying, so I’m rewriting it myself. Lukas stays. I don’t fight back. Why would I? The game taught me enough. There’s no logic in escaping only to fall back into the same pit. The developer should’ve known better and made two endings, one for those who learn and one for those who don’t.

And if I can’t have that choice, then in the next game life I’d rather sacrifice myself and let Lukas live. He deserves it more.

Unforgiving is the kind of game that lingers. It doesn’t scare you with noise. It just stays quiet and waits until you realise you’re still inside it. Sometimes survival isn’t about running. It’s about knowing when to stop.

Labels: Game, motivation, spooky, Windows and Softwares

I played a song to set the mood, The Christmas Song. The version by Celtic Woman always finds its way to me first. The original may have been by Nat King Cole, but the Celtic Woman rendition carries something more fragile and haunting. Every year, that song cuts through me in a way that words fail to describe. It feels like home and longing at the same time.

I once shared that song in an old post. The video no longer exists; perhaps it was removed over the years. Still, there is always a new upload somewhere, waiting to be found, as if the season itself refuses to fade.

Since 2022, I have spent Christmas abroad, except for last year. My time in Germany remains unforgettable. That experience felt like the beginning of something new in me. A new tradition was born. A new way of seeing and feeling the season. There was something about the quiet streets, the smell of roasted nuts in the air, and the calm of winter markets that made me feel at peace with myself. It was both foreign and deeply familiar, as if my own memories were learning a new language.

I have not planned Christmas this year. Not yet. But I already sense the shape of it forming quietly in my mind. I hope it can once again become a calm space for my restless thoughts, a reminder that some traditions are worth keeping, even when everything else changes.

Labels: Love and Relationships

Reading news about the demise of Naya Rivera has got me thinking today. I wasn't much of her fan but I liked the character she brought in Glee... and judging from all my entries back in 2010, you'll know that I'm definitely a die-hard Gleek. The show has helped me a lot during my time growing up in a place I found hard to be accepted and I personally thank all the casts for the lesson, the strength, and the wisdom back then. I can honestly say that I became the person I am today because of the show. 

I'm sorry for the terrible tragedy happened to you, Naya and thank you. Rest in peace. 

Labels: Glee

Labels: Christianity, problems

Labels: problems