There are a few weird side effects to Wind Waker's disjointed structure. One of the most problematic constants has to do with the way the way the various inventory-based systems are handled.
For the first quarter or so of the game, the player is granted upgrade items on an almost thematic basis, as circumstances dictate. Accessories are presented one by one, specifically in order to add some variety to the next defined chunk of gameplay.
Take, for example, the grappling hook. Until the item is located, there aren't any circumstances under which it should be required. After it's been found, the entire next segment of the game will rely almost exclusively on the grapple. Once the next major accessory turns up (say, the boomerang or the Deku leaf), the grapple is virtually shelved while the game focuses upon a unique set of circumstances revolving around Link's newest toy.
This all fits within the pick-up-and play attitude under which Wind Waker tries to operate, but it... is an odd way to structure things. Link's accessories become more like unique keys, implemented in order to make one dungeon memorably stand apart from the next, than important elements of a balanced inventory. Then, after their designated use, the items will more or less tend languish, cluttering the inventory screen.
What it comes down to is that each major item tends to be treated as a fleeting special-use gimmick of the moment. This effectively takes a hunk of the joy out of their discovery. It used to be, once, that each of Link's accoutrements was referred to (and more or less treated) as a "treasure". In Wind Waker, few items really seem to amount to much in and of themselves.
If the early placement of items amounts to a joke about mathematical implementation of design theory, the overall structure of Link's inventory is merely confusing. For one, there are a number of duplicate (or at least highly similar) functions represented.
I've mentioned the grappling hook, but now I'll bring up the Hookshot. Here's how the items are most fundamentally distinguished: you shoot the grapple toward pegs; the Hookshot allows you to shoot at circles, instead. There are some more complex distinctions, but the real point is -- just, why? Why are these two wholly separate items cluttering up both the inventory screen and the larger game structure?
It doesn't stop there, either. The telescope and the camera are virtually identical, except that the camera has the added ability to take photographs. At least the boomerang has been reformulated enough not to duplicate the hookshot's usage the way it did in Ocarina of Time. Instead, it serves as something of an alternate to the bow.[6]
Perhaps the worst special-use item has got to be the sail that I mentioned earlier. It serves no purpose outside of the boat, and when at sea it renders the player more or less frozen in his options as long as it's open. There is no reason that I can see why the sail isn't just incorporated into the boat as a special function, rather than wasting every space it's a part of. It has no real, valid function as an item.
Then again, neither do most of the items which the player encounters throughout the game. In Wind Waker, Link has three whole sacks (each acting as a sub-inventory) to hold the variety of useless trinkets which the game compels a person to collect. Most of these doodads serve as keys in the overwhelming supply of fetch quests that the game throws at the player -- some mandatory, many more optional.
The structure of the overall inventory system in this game is specifically streamlined to allow the player to deal with a veritable inundation of delivery and collection jobs. If Link's accessories didn't already seem a bit less glorious than they ought to, then try swamping them with a few dozen Joy Pendants, skull necklaces, chu jellies, golden feathers, letters, sea flowers, and Hero Belts. Keep in mind that every time you find one of these items, the game makes just as big a deal about it as when you find (what should be) a major piece of equipment.
It might sound like I'm making a big deal about nothing, but it's not just that the clutter is annoying, or that the trinkets overwhelm the (already tenuous) integrity of the more worthwhile inventory items; it's that they pollute the fabric of the game. Just by being such an integrally huge part of the overall makeup of the game, they take down the structural integrity of the whole.
I have never seen another game of this calibre so blindly rely on fetch quests in exchange for mature, well-considered gameplay. People complain tirelessly about the wild goose chases in Shenmue, but in that game -- explicably reliant as it is upon detectivework -- there is context. There is none here. Further, there are so many wonderful possibilities insinuated by the game world; by the storyline; by the controls given to the player.
I must touch on this one task from the last portion of the game. Technically it isn't mandatory, although the game isn't terribly helpful in alerting the player to this fact.
The Deku Tree is back in Wind Waker; with him this time around is a gaggle of Miyazaki-esque tree spirits, who at one point come to be scattered all over the world map. As with most NPCs in this game, the kodamas implore the player to aid them in their plight.[7] What the player must do is fill a bottle with magical spring water from a particular stream. This water must then be poured in eight specific locations around the map.
This sounds like a fair bit of work, but doable (if boring). There is a time limit on the fairy water, so it seems that the player must return to its source for a refill every now and then. What the game doesn't make clear (as part of yet another trend) is that the time limit applies to the entire quest. That is to say, the player is required to track down all eight locations within the time limit or else start all over from the beginning.
There is a chart available, which lists the exact position of each spot related to the quest. Again, however, there is a problem with information dissemination. It is not clear that such an in-game map even exists. That the player is required to take a few extra (unlisted) steps in order to gain access to it, only furthers the problem.
The real point here, however, is in the time limit. Recall how long it takes to travel anywhere in Wind Waker -- even given the later warping ability. Even with all of the locations clearly marked, the player is just barely given enough time to bounce from one location to the next and complete the task. None of this is made obvious to the player.
So what we have is a task which isn't terribly interesting to begin with. From the way the quest it set up as a red herring, it appears (falsely) to be the only way to progress in the game. The player is given a time limit, without a clear explanation as to what that time limit means. The player is given access to a map, but not told that the map exists or how to find it. The player is just barely given enough resources to complete this annoying task. If the player messes up, he needs to start all over again -- and waste another half hour.
As a whole, this game takes advantage of its own most irritating weaknesses in order to torment the player. It wastes hours upon hours by forcing the player to needlessly sail back and forth, searching out and delivering arbitrary items. Hours more are required in order to find everything important, but not strictly necessary. As much of a completionist as I tend to be, I simply gave up after a certain point. I didn't even bother with two-thirds of the treasure charts (yet another example of this pointless time vacuum).
Why does Wind Waker have such apparent contempt for the intelligence and sophistication of its audience? One reason, I'll discuss in a moment. The other, however, is an attempt to make up for the intrinsically dynamic, linear heart of the game; to slow it down, and -- within the framework already established -- bring the focus back to exploration.
You could say that this is all implemented in order to re-Zeldate the game; to reign it in from left field, reinfused and buffered with hours of classic, tested gameplay. After all, there's nothing more conservative than mindless busywork.
Again, though, this "Zelda" gig is a rather simple explanation. Now that we've got a bit of background, it's time to spelunk a bit more deeply into the game's pathology.
[Next: psychoanalysis]
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