The game I played was A Sailor’s Dream, a visually stunning walking simulator created by Simogo available on ios (I played it on my iPad) targeting people ages 12+ players in narrative-based games.
In most video games, movement serves as a practical tool—a means to reach the next battle or puzzle. However, in “walking simulators,” the movement itself becomes the central storytelling mechanism. The simple act of navigation and exploration, hence “walking,” in the game constructs a narrative in ways that traditional storytelling cannot. Unlike games with central objectives, walking simulators encourage players to explore and discover hidden stories or simply enjoy the environment’s beauty. On a surface level, it might feel quite boring, but after playing The Sailor’s Dream by Simogo, I found the act of “walking around and exploring” to collect story fragments to be quite fun.
Right as I enter the game, I am greeted with a rather optimistic and hearty sailor’s song. The audio makes the game come to life—the waves in the background, the sound of the anchor, and my favorite audio aspect: the sound of light sparkles that illuminate empty rooms, giving these abandoned spaces a sense of optimism in spite of its dreary state.
Image 1: My favorite visual in the game in how it makes the abandoned corridor feel somewhat optimistic.
The visuals are also stunning—the sparkles of light in the abandoned corridors, the bright white trees within the abandoned islands, and the islands themselves all feel very unique in their designs, yet appear weathered by time. The breathtaking visuals and soothing soundtrack make exploring the spaces in the island feel visceral, allowing the player to fully immerse themselves into the story of the game, creating an atmosphere where memory and reality seemingly blends together.
As you navigate between islands, the soundtrack shifts and evolves, with musical motifs representing different characters and emotional states. The movement through physical space becomes a movement through soundscapes, creating an auditory dimension to the storytelling that complements the visual one. Some narrative elements only appear at specific times, encouraging repeated exploration – another form of “walking” through the same spaces with new perspectives.
Unlike most traditional walking simulators, where you have full control of your movement in an open-world setting, The Sailor’s Dream takes a more abstract approach to the genre. Rather than walking in the traditional sense, you’re sailing between mysterious islands by scrolling across the screen. To enter an island, you scroll up and then scroll left, right, up, or down to explore various rooms.
Image 2: The scrolling mechanics is the game’s “walking” mechanism in the game for room exploration
Upon exploring each island, you uncover fragments of a melancholic story of love, longing, and loss. The navigation becomes a metaphor for memory itself – drifting between emotional spaces, piecing together a narrative that isn’t linear but experiential. By “walking” through the spaces, the corridors and rooms of each house, you may find different fragments of a story. For example, choosing to go through the pale cube hallway rather than the creaking stars would allow you to discover the empty picture frame before the empty box, revealing a different story fragment in a different order.
As I navigated through misty seascapes, each new discovery altered my understanding of the previous ones. The story doesn’t unfold linearly but accumulates through continuous exploration as you discover the scattered fragments. How you learn the narrative is directly impacted by the decisions you make within the game in deciding what islands and what rooms to explore. This creates a sense of active participation in the narrative that feels distinctly different from consuming a story through text or cutscenes.
Image 3: The visuals of the Secret Lighthouse and the background music really immerses you into the story of the game and encourage you to explore it.
What makes the “walking” aspect in The Sailor’s Dream tell a story is how the storytelling is structured through spatial discovery. The concept of “embedded narratives” perfectly describes the experience—the story is not presented chronologically but must be assembled through environmental clues scattered across different locations. Each island houses remnants of the past: abandoned lighthouses, forgotten musical boxes, and handwritten notes that slowly reveal the relationship between a sailor, a young girl, and a woman who lived in a lighthouse.
What struck me most was how the pace of movement affects storytelling. Unlike action games that rush players from one objective to another, The Sailor’s Dream encourages lingering, contemplation, and return visits. I found myself actively returning to the Secret Lighthouse to read the story fragments again as I discovered new fragments that altered my assumption of the game’s overall story. In that sense, the story unfolds at the speed of thought rather than action. This deliberate pacing within walking simulators like The Sailor’s Dream creates a meditative environment where you are given ample time to digest and resonate with the emotional weight of its narrative. In a sense, you are simply “walking” to absorb the story’s atmosphere and details.
Ethics:
In section, I played a game called Dungeons and Business Cards (I may have gotten the name wrong and I apologize in advance). The violence in the game’s mechanics felt rather repetitive, with no real story being crafted. It felt like a game of perpetual RNG with dice rolls until we rolled two 6’s consecutively and then a 4, 5, or 6. The violence within this game served to create stakes and challenges for the players, motivating them to keep going through. However, without a real narrative, it felt hard to get invested in the game.
Unlike Dungeons and Business Cards, there is no violence within The Sailor’s Dream. There are no enemies or no threats of “game over.” Instead, the narrative tension comes from unanswered questions about what had happened, forcing the player to explore the various islands to uncover the full story. Progress is measured in understanding rather than conquest. The exclusion of violence in The Sailor’s Dream forces players to engage with the world through careful observation. In violent games, I often wonder “What can I do here with my abilities?” In The Sailor’s Dream, the question becomes “What happened here?” In that sense, I believe that while the inclusion of violence can up the stakes and tension in traditional narrative arcs, the absence of violence allows you to explore the story at your own pace, without tension from within the game.
