I am a terminally online person. There is a sense of awkwardness that I experience when I meet people in real life and have to come up with interesting conversation topics without bringing up the latest online discourse. Massive swells of anxiety build up when I see the same dreadful post regurgitated over and over again. Nothing truly interesting enough that is worth my dwindling time. It only gets worse when I consider my work obligations from my day job of writing to my time writing for Seasoned Gaming, other websites, and even this book idea I can’t put enough time into; it is all daunting.
As my focus is attached to the addiction to work, I rarely take in the moments that I find myself in. While I was playing Dungeons of Hinterberg from developer Microbird Games, I realized that it has been literal years since I have taken an honest-to-god vacation, an idea the entire game is based around. Sure, I have taken time off from work to sit indoors and enjoy the various walls that surround me. Playing with my kid and spending time alongside my wife within these small windows of opportunity fill me with a sense of happiness. But, I am still tethered.
I realize that by remaining within the vicinity of my home Wi-Fi router and semi-reliable connection to T-Mobile, I am not truly free from that which binds me, from that which causes me the most grief. Even in the chaotic times, I am staring at my phone and witnessing whatever it is that an algorithm shows me. Manipulating me into a mindset that devours all emotion, turning me into a cynical, weathered husk that shouts nonsense into the endless void, searching for signs of life.
I know what I am saying here isn’t new. It is drilled into our heads, over and over on a daily basis by professionals; yet we are constantly drawn back to these armchair philosophers and modernized grifters trying to sell us diet pills. Disconnecting oneself from the death grip of modern technology is akin to breaking a major addiction because it is exactly that. I’m not saying that Dungeons of Hinterberg made me realize that I need a vacation, oh god no. I’m not that shallow. What I am saying is that Dungeons of Hinterberg is making me strive to have that completely disconnected vacation that steals me away from the invisible powers that feed off my desperation.
A Mindful Disconnection
Disconnecting entirely is important. I was shocked when I saw Luisa openly accept the lack of connectivity within Hinterberg, a place that acts as the definitive cutoff from her day job within a lawyer’s firm. At first it is scary, but eventually she comments on the lack of work emails and how that should help her fully sever the connection she has with her job, marking this dungeon-delving adventure as a break from the mundane. A true departure from the rat race.
Venturing throughout the alps, seeing the cell-shaded environments that resemble rolling hills and mountain ranges, while obviously unrealistic, still drive a sense of adventure. Even when something is unfamiliar, there is solace in the presence of nature. True wonder lies within the wind that blows between the trees, pushing the branches to wave in a grandiose gesture of welcoming.
Dungeons of Hinterberg doesn’t just push me to experience something like the Austrian-inspired countryside, it makes me want to experience the social aspects of other people. As the game takes place in a newfound tourist location, it brings in many people from all over who all share the same core urge as Luisa- to get away.
Whether it be Travis, the local hipster journalist, Alex the free spirit, or Klaus the guide; everyone has a personality and a motivation to be where they are. There is a reason why they are doing what they are doing but what doesn’t change is the fact that they are there. Hinterberg has something that everyone strives to obtain and they are all actively receiving it passively while actively engaging with the world and people around them.
Sure, Klaus was put into a particular situation that ties him directly to Luisa, but besides that he is often referred to as an upstanding member of society. Travis might be a bit of a drag to be around, but he is ultimately has positive character traits that makes him unique and welcoming in his own way.
Stop and Smell the Air
These social aspects do play into the core mechanics of the game, but the characters you meet feel genuine. With deep and meaningful experiences, it crafts this welcoming world of endless possibility. There are questions they ask and hints to find interesting areas, adding to that sense of adventure in a unique way. It is so easy to understand that only after a few in-game days, Luisa fully disconnects. There is one moment in particular where she reminisces about the problems in her life and little by little they seem to disappear. An overbearing weight becomes lighter and lighter with every moment she spends here. Harsh memories fade into the background while she breathes in the clean air and ingests a delicious snack.
I really admired the freedom Luisa gets and the misunderstanding of that freedom because I experience it myself. There are often times where I am given the chance to spend a few hours doing anything I want, only to spend them cleaning or scrolling endlessly through social media. Taking those activities away, forcing me to forge my own path for the day seems difficult, and when I tell myself that I must make an experience enjoyable, it backfires because I am forcing myself to do something when it should be natural. There is nothing more difficult than laying your preconceived notions to the side and throwing away comfort for the opportunity to take in something new.
There is a rather neat mechanic within Dungeons of Hinterberg that allows me to take some time to sit somewhere or talk to people in lieu of exploring a dungeon. I get some sense of a reward for doing so. Sitting at a bench gives me a boost to my health under the guise of me taking time for myself. It is that sense of rest, taking time to live within the moment of relaxation. I could go through a dungeon which is work in its own right, or, I can watch the current dance while the sounds of birds fly overhead. Not a single cell phone ringer or notification bell in earshot. I long for that in a way.
Dust to Dust
Every single day, I am constantly held to a series of standards set by whoever gives me a paycheck at the end of the week. Everything I do is held to a specific schedule that must be met through hell or high water. Beyond the act of clocking in and out of a job, there are remnants that remain. Chisels that continue to break away parts of me till there is nothing left but dust and debris. Between the sounds of metal-on-metal strikes of the hammer hitting the tool, I am somehow supposed to fortify and reinforce my aptitude. But, my foundation cracks even when the hammer rests. Enough of those and the once strong statue becomes the remnants of someone who once stood tall amongst the pantheon of others who have been whittled away till there was nothing left.
There is life and magic around us, and for some reason I can only accept it when I am urged to experience it through my own senses. We don’t need time away from our jobs, we need time away from the powers that have molded us to become what we are in this very moment. We need our own Hinterberg.
