Discover How to Go Perya: A Complete Guide for Beginners

As I booted up Dustborn for the first time, I had high hopes for a narrative-driven adventure. The premise seemed promising—a road trip across an alternate-history America with a crew of misfits, powered by sonic abilities. But within the first hour, I found myself struggling to connect with what should have been an emotional journey. The game’s animations, both in and out of combat, felt distractingly dated. That’s when it hit me: we’re in 2024, and some games are still clinging to animation techniques that should have been retired a decade ago. It reminded me of the early days of narrative adventures, back when Telltale’s The Walking Dead managed to win awards despite its stiff character models. But let’s be real—that was 12 years ago. Times have changed, and so have player expectations.

The reference material I came across perfectly captures my frustration. It notes that "animations are lifeless even outside of combat," and I couldn’t agree more. In Dustborn, character expressions and movements are so janky that it actively detracts from the voice actors' performances. There’s a scene early on where one of the main characters shares a vulnerable moment, but the wooden facial animations made it impossible for me to feel invested. It’s a shame because the voice acting is genuinely solid, but it’s buried under layers of awkward presentation. Even the light puzzle-solving and exploration segments suffer because the world feels static and unconvincing. Games in this genre, like those from Quantic Dream or even later Telltale titles, have evolved to deliver more fluid and expressive animations. Dustborn, by comparison, feels like it’s stuck in 2012.

I’ve always believed that animations are the soul of a narrative-driven game. They’re what bridge the gap between storytelling and immersion. In Dustborn, however, the lack of polish is so pronounced that it pulled me out of the experience repeatedly. During one puzzle sequence, I was supposed to feel tension as my crew narrowly escaped danger, but the robotic movements of the characters made it feel like I was watching puppets on strings. The reference text puts it bluntly: "Dustborn runs back similarly janky character expressions and movements to the point that it hurts the actors' performances." It’s rare that I find myself so at odds with a game’s presentation, but here, it’s a constant distraction.

This isn’t just about Dustborn, though. It’s part of a larger conversation about how far the genre has come—and how some games are being left behind. Titles like Life is Strange or Detroit: Become Human have set a new standard, using motion capture and nuanced animations to create believable characters. Dustborn, on the other hand, seems content to rely on outdated techniques. I reached out to a fellow game critic, Sarah Jenkins, who shared her thoughts: "When you’re asking players to invest emotionally, every detail counts. Dustborn’s animations undermine its narrative ambitions, making it hard to recommend to fans of modern story-driven games." Her words echoed my own feelings. It’s not that the game is devoid of merit—the soundtrack and art direction have their moments—but the core experience feels compromised.

If you’re new to this style of game, you might wonder what the big deal is. After all, shouldn’t story and dialogue take precedence? In theory, yes, but in practice, animations are the vehicle that delivers those elements. Imagine reading a gripping novel where every other page is smudged—it’s frustrating, and it detracts from the overall impact. That’s Dustborn in a nutshell. For those looking to dive into narrative adventures, I’d suggest starting with titles that have mastered this balance. In fact, if you’re curious about how to approach these games, I’d recommend you discover how to go perya—a term I use to describe the process of immersing yourself in interactive stories without technical distractions. Dustborn, unfortunately, makes that difficult.

By the time I reached the halfway point, my initial excitement had waned. The game’s flaws became too glaring to ignore. I found myself rushing through dialogues just to avoid prolonged exposure to the stiff animations. It’s a pity because there are glimpses of a compelling story buried underneath—themes of found family and rebellion against oppression—but they’re never fully realized. The reference material points out that "games like this one have, in some cases, moved well beyond such archaic animations by now," and that’s what makes Dustborn so disappointing. It’s not a bad game, but it’s a missed opportunity.

In the end, Dustborn serves as a cautionary tale. As players, we should expect more from narrative-driven experiences in 2024. We’ve seen what’s possible, and settling for less feels like a step backward. If you’re still keen on giving it a try, go in with tempered expectations. But if you ask me, your time might be better spent revisiting classics or exploring indie titles that prioritize polish over ambition. After all, in an era where games are more immersive than ever, there’s little excuse for animations that break the spell.