Skulking through this cursed city, Thief: The Dark Project drops me, Garrett, into a 1998 world of gloom and greed. Shadows are my coin, silence my blade, as I pilfer from nobles and dodge their dim-witted guards. Every creaky floorboard or flickering torch can spell my end, and the supernatural rot— zombies, haunts—makes my thieving life a nightmare. This game’s a gritty dance of cunning, where one wrong step lands you in a cell or worse.



Moving through these wretched streets means sticking to shadows, where light levels decide if I’m a ghost or a dead man. My blackjack knocks out fools, while my bow looses water arrows to douse torches, moss arrows to hush my steps, or gas to drop guards without a fuss—each demands I weigh risk like a miser counts gold. Mansions, crypts, and sewers sprawl with paths, from high rooftops to dank tunnels, begging me to sniff out hidden loot or shortcuts. Guards lumber along set routes, ears pricked for my missteps or a knocked-over vase, forcing me to memorize their patterns like a heist’s blueprint. Ghosts and monsters creep into later jobs, shifting my game from quiet theft to dodging horrors or, if pressed, clumsy swordplay. Missions range from snatching gems to hunting mystical trinkets, with higher difficulties barring kills or demanding I ghost through unseen.



Darkness is my truest friend, its meter showing when I’m invisible, letting me slink past guards like they’re blind beggars. Every sound—my boots on stone or carpet—carries weight, with audio so sharp I can gauge my own betrayal or a guard’s suspicion. Levels, from gilded halls to bone-strewn tombs, brim with secrets, daring me to pry open every locked chest or hidden passage. My arsenal—rope arrows for climbing, water arrows for snuffing lights—gives me freedom to carve my own path through any job. Guards mutter and investigate, acting alive enough to keep me sharp, their routines a puzzle I unravel with every step. My own sardonic voice ties this tale together, grounding the mystic nonsense in a thief’s cold pragmatism. Higher difficulties twist the knife, forcing no-kill runs or pure stealth, making old jobs feel fresh as new coin. Gothic spires and steam-driven contraptions paint a world so thick with mood, I half-believe I’m back in my own streets.



Supernatural filth—zombies, spectral beasts—crawls into my thieving, turning clean heists into dodging monstrosities or fumbling with a sword that feels like swinging a lead pipe. Controls, stiff as a rusted lock, make my nimble fingers feel like sausages, especially when I’m picking a lock or dodging a patrol in a pinch.



Slipping through Thief’s shadows feels like pulling off a heist no one else could, with every dark corner a tool for my trade. Its tricks birthed a genre, even if those undead horrors make me curse the day I took the job. Sprawling levels and clever tools keep my wits sharp, rewarding guile over brawn. Clunky controls and misplaced monsters might sour the take, but the city’s pulse keeps me coming back.



9/10 - Score fits a job well done, with shadows and cunning outweighing the clumsy controls and those blasted supernatural pests that don’t belong in my line of work.