Have you ever pondered the profound influence of the stories you read as a child? The heroes you admired, their teachings, the courage they displayed in perilous situations, and their sense of justice. These characters and their choices have shaped us, influencing our career paths, friendships, and, ultimately, our identities. But what if these stories had never existed? And what if brave squire Jot, a character from 'The Plucky Squire" was erased from the life of a young aspiring writer, Sam?

That's what The Plucky Squire is about. It is a brilliant tale about the importance of stories and the courage they instill in us.

Jot is an unblemished hero, a knight who fights against the evil Humgrump with the help of his friends: Violet, the sorceress, the troll, and Moonbeard, the sorcerer who is fond of disco music. But Jot is not only a brave and loyal warrior but also an excellent writer. It is not that he likes fighting all that much; it is by writing that he delights his fellow citizens with bestsellers that make clear his heart and great imagination. This is paradoxical since Jot, Violet, Humgrump, and all the others are characters in a children's picture book, The Plucky Squire.

The work is the favorite story of little Sam, who has an absolute mania for Jot. So much is his love for this character, and so much gratitude for the joy this book is giving him in his formative years, that thanks to some magic (we are still in a fairy tale), we get a peek into his future: Sam will become a children's book writer, and his stories, like a kind balm, will touch the lives of so many other kids, inspiring them. Teaching them that evil never pays. In The Plucky Squire, no matter how ruthless and Machiavellian Humgrump's plan is, Jot always manages to prevent it. This aspect of the book not only entertains but also educates, instilling important values in young readers and inspiring them to become storytellers themselves.

What happens if Humgrump, after becoming aware that he is just the character—moreover, the villain—of a children's book, manages to find a way to eliminate Jot from the story? In this terrible scenario, Jot will have to fight to return to his home world and prevent Sam's future from changing irrevocably, and thus that of millions of other boys.

That of The Plucky Squire is a simple story, but one capable of touching deep chords. You could imagine it as a kind of Toy Story meets Harry Potter, The Little Prince, or whatever your favorite book from when you were a child. Its strength lies in realizing how these works touched our hearts and how manipulating their direction, even slightly, could have made a big difference in our lives. The genius of The Plucky Squire is that this "manipulation" doesn't stop at the theoretical level but comes in the form of dozens of gameplay ideas that leave the player continually dumbfounded.

In its first moments, The Plucky Squire is a Zelda on paper. Printed on the glossy pages of our beautiful little book, Jot moves between the boards, as if in a magical flip book. Trees and florid vegetation, fantasy characters, and colors so vibrant they seem to pop off the page. We are already in a world that is inside another world. Like a window overlooking a universe we are privileged to see, the edge of the book acts as a frame, hinting that something else exists outside that story—a tangible universe made of scissors, sharpeners, and paper clips.

The book is also not just a book; it is instead one of those astonishing graphic projects in which, every time you turn the page, you are left speechless at the author's visual inventions: pages that read from top to bottom as our hero descends deep into a cave, others dark (so black that you can see the texture of the print) that color as Jot goes through them. It is a display of styles and ideas that make for unique navigation.

The Plucky Squire is the book of a warrior writer who is so ingenious that he can change his universe. In fact, one of the first ideas introduced in the video game is the ability to change illustrations through writing. Many environmental puzzles are solved through a system similar to that seen in "Baba, Is You?" We will find small sentences on the page describing the environment, with some keywords that you can substitute to alter the situation. For instance, a parched riverbed can become utterly full of water, and a giant road-blocking bug can be transformed into a tiny road-blocking bug. This process of looking for words within the page often involves us in layered puzzles involving classic levers and locked doors. When our Jot becomes capable of traveling between dimensions, things change quite a bit.

When Humgrump succeeds in expelling Jot from the story and, literally, from the book, our hero finds himself in another dimension: the one outside, the three-dimensional one, which responds to totally different physical rules. At these junctures, The Plucky Squire loses its 2D identity and becomes a three-dimensional adventure, where the colorful fantasy settings are replaced by a world of giant tools, toys, and furniture reminiscent of Andy's bedroom in Toy Story and the home levels of Pikmin. In this new setting, Jot as much as the player must change the way they approach environmental puzzles and navigation: everything becomes tied to more precise jumps or physics, with objects to be moved or dropped to use as trampolines. This transition from 2D to 3D gameplay adds a new layer of complexity and excitement to the game, challenging the player to adapt to a different set of rules and strategies.

The creative apotheosis comes at the moment when one acquires the ability to enter and exit these two dimensions through special green portals that allow one to transform Jot from time to time from the hero of the book into a kind of animated action figure and to make the two realities interact in every possible way.

It is a gimmick that we have already seen and loved in The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, and which, in some ways, especially in its ability to play with the two-dimensional nature of paper, also reminded us of the Paper Mario series. The most exciting aspect is that often, to solve puzzles in the book, you have to go out, look for an object in the "real" world, and bring it into the story. Similarly, in the three-dimensional world, some obstacles can be overcome only by the characteristics of the paper, taking advantage of gimmicks such as the folds in books and the verticality of posters. It is a continuous dialogue between two dimensions that talk to each other, intersect, and play with a physics that is there and then is no longer there. It is almost as if two different games continuously meet in a continuous exchange, enriching each other.

"The Plucky Squire" is a fun approach that, in each session, manages to shake up the formula, offering new mechanics and callbacks to genres seemingly light years away, especially in boss fights. The first one, for example, is an homage to Punch-Out!!!, but there are also situations where you face a JRPG-like fight against what is blatantly a card from Magic: The Gathering or disputes that seem like something out of good old Nintendo's "Rhythm Paradise".

At these junctures, the Plucky Squire's most glaring flaw comes out: its excessive ease. There was no challenging moment in the game. Although the puzzles are fun and well thought out, they never prove complex.

"The Plucky Squire" is a Toy Story that meets your favorite book from childhood. It does so with all the love and gratitude possible for those stories that inspired us as children to become who we are today, thanks to their heroes' bravery, ingenuity, and ability to speak directly to our hearts. But it is also a fantastic video game, chock-full of ideas, aesthetic inventions, and gameplay. It knows how to make two worlds communicate excellently, merging them into one unforgettable adventure.

Have you ever pondered the profound influence of the stories you read as a child? The heroes you admired, their teachings, the courage they displayed in perilous situations, and their sense of justice. These characters and their choices have shaped us, influencing our career paths, friendships, and, ultimately, our identities. But what if these stories had never existed? And what if brave squire Jot, a character from 'The Plucky Squire" was erased from the life of a young aspiring writer, Sam? That's what The Plucky Squire is about. It is a brilliant tale about the importance of stories and the courage they instill in us. Jot is an unblemished hero, a knight who fights against the evil Humgrump with the help of his friends: Violet, the sorceress, the troll, and Moonbeard, the sorcerer who is fond of disco music. But Jot is not only a brave and loyal warrior but also an excellent writer. It is not that he likes fighting all that much; it is by writing that he delights his fellow citizens with bestsellers that make clear his heart and great imagination. This is paradoxical since Jot, Violet, Humgrump, and all the others are characters in a children's picture book, The Plucky Squire. The work is the favorite story of little Sam, who has an absolute mania for Jot. So much is his love for this character, and so much gratitude for the joy this book is giving him in his formative years, that thanks to some magic (we are still in a fairy tale), we get a peek into his future: Sam will become a children's book writer, and his stories, like a kind balm, will touch the lives of so many other kids, inspiring them. Teaching them that evil never pays. In The Plucky Squire, no matter how ruthless and Machiavellian Humgrump's plan is, Jot always manages to prevent it. This aspect of the book not only entertains but also educates, instilling important values in young readers and inspiring them to become storytellers themselves. What happens if Humgrump, after becoming aware that he is just the character—moreover, the villain—of a children's book, manages to find a way to eliminate Jot from the story? In this terrible scenario, Jot will have to fight to return to his home world and prevent Sam's future from changing irrevocably, and thus that of millions of other boys. That of The Plucky Squire is a simple story, but one capable of touching deep chords. You could imagine it as a kind of Toy Story meets Harry Potter, The Little Prince, or whatever your favorite book from when you were a child. Its strength lies in realizing how these works touched our hearts and how manipulating their direction, even slightly, could have made a big difference in our lives. The genius of The Plucky Squire is that this "manipulation" doesn't stop at the theoretical level but comes in the form of dozens of gameplay ideas that leave the player continually dumbfounded. In its first moments, The Plucky Squire is a Zelda on paper. Printed on the glossy pages of our beautiful little book, Jot moves between the boards, as if in a magical flip book. Trees and florid vegetation, fantasy characters, and colors so vibrant they seem to pop off the page. We are already in a world that is inside another world. Like a window overlooking a universe we are privileged to see, the edge of the book acts as a frame, hinting that something else exists outside that story—a tangible universe made of scissors, sharpeners, and paper clips. The book is also not just a book; it is instead one of those astonishing graphic projects in which, every time you turn the page, you are left speechless at the author's visual inventions: pages that read from top to bottom as our hero descends deep into a cave, others dark (so black that you can see the texture of the print) that color as Jot goes through them. It is a display of styles and ideas that make for unique navigation. The Plucky Squire is the book of a warrior writer who is so ingenious that he can change his universe. In fact, one of the first ideas introduced in the video game is the ability to change illustrations through writing. Many environmental puzzles are solved through a system similar to that seen in "Baba, Is You?" We will find small sentences on the page describing the environment, with some keywords that you can substitute to alter the situation. For instance, a parched riverbed can become utterly full of water, and a giant road-blocking bug can be transformed into a tiny road-blocking bug. This process of looking for words within the page often involves us in layered puzzles involving classic levers and locked doors. When our Jot becomes capable of traveling between dimensions, things change quite a bit. When Humgrump succeeds in expelling Jot from the story and, literally, from the book, our hero finds himself in another dimension: the one outside, the three-dimensional one, which responds to totally different physical rules. At these junctures, The Plucky Squire loses its 2D identity and becomes a three-dimensional adventure, where the colorful fantasy settings are replaced by a world of giant tools, toys, and furniture reminiscent of Andy's bedroom in Toy Story and the home levels of Pikmin. In this new setting, Jot as much as the player must change the way they approach environmental puzzles and navigation: everything becomes tied to more precise jumps or physics, with objects to be moved or dropped to use as trampolines. This transition from 2D to 3D gameplay adds a new layer of complexity and excitement to the game, challenging the player to adapt to a different set of rules and strategies. The creative apotheosis comes at the moment when one acquires the ability to enter and exit these two dimensions through special green portals that allow one to transform Jot from time to time from the hero of the book into a kind of animated action figure and to make the two realities interact in every possible way. It is a gimmick that we have already seen and loved in The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, and which, in some ways, especially in its ability to play with the two-dimensional nature of paper, also reminded us of the Paper Mario series. The most exciting aspect is that often, to solve puzzles in the book, you have to go out, look for an object in the "real" world, and bring it into the story. Similarly, in the three-dimensional world, some obstacles can be overcome only by the characteristics of the paper, taking advantage of gimmicks such as the folds in books and the verticality of posters. It is a continuous dialogue between two dimensions that talk to each other, intersect, and play with a physics that is there and then is no longer there. It is almost as if two different games continuously meet in a continuous exchange, enriching each other. "The Plucky Squire" is a fun approach that, in each session, manages to shake up the formula, offering new mechanics and callbacks to genres seemingly light years away, especially in boss fights. The first one, for example, is an homage to Punch-Out!!!, but there are also situations where you face a JRPG-like fight against what is blatantly a card from Magic: The Gathering or disputes that seem like something out of good old Nintendo's "Rhythm Paradise". At these junctures, the Plucky Squire's most glaring flaw comes out: its excessive ease. There was no challenging moment in the game. Although the puzzles are fun and well thought out, they never prove complex. "The Plucky Squire" is a Toy Story that meets your favorite book from childhood. It does so with all the love and gratitude possible for those stories that inspired us as children to become who we are today, thanks to their heroes' bravery, ingenuity, and ability to speak directly to our hearts. But it is also a fantastic video game, chock-full of ideas, aesthetic inventions, and gameplay. It knows how to make two worlds communicate excellently, merging them into one unforgettable adventure.