Costume Quest 2

My honest first impression of Costume Quest 2 was relief: relief that the villain is a dentist with a time machine and a grudge against Halloween, and not some grey-cloaked world-ender with daddy issues. Dr. Orel White, D.D.S. is genuinely one of the more memorable antagonists in Double Fine's catalogue, precisely because the game takes a moment to show you who he was as a kid before letting you hate him as an adult. That small narrative grace note is worth more than a hundred overdesigned boss arenas, and it signals the kind of storytelling warmth that makes this sequel easy to root for, even when its systems are working against it. The premise sends twins Wren and Reynold leaping through time portals to undo White's Halloween-banning agenda, hitting stops in a pumpkin-lit present, a colonial past, and a fluoride-scrubbed dental dystopia future. Each zone is full of NPCs with genuinely funny one-liners, and the costume-based world traversal holds up nicely: the wizard staff lights dark paths, the ghost costume sneaks you past laser fencing, and the pterodactyl clears leaf piles to surface hidden items. Collecting costume pieces scattered across each map gives you a steady drip of new abilities that keeps exploration feeling purposeful for most of the runtime. The Creepy Treat Cards add a thin extra layer to combat, functioning a bit like collectible power-ups you can deploy mid-fight. None of it is deep, but the pacing of discovery is well-judged. Combat is where the game's ceiling becomes obvious, and quickly. The timing mechanic, a contracting circle you match to a target to boost attack or reduce incoming damage, works well enough in the first hour. The sequel adds counters, double attacks, and a rock-paper-scissors costume type system where certain outfits deal bonus damage or absorb extra hits depending on enemy class. That elemental wrinkle is a real improvement over the first game, but in practice most players will just run their favourite costumes and brute-force through anyway. The fights themselves almost never threaten to kill you, and with no auto-heal between battles (you walk to a water fountain instead, a baffling change from the first game), the rhythm between exploration and combat starts to drag. The map also lacks a position marker, which means the occasional poorly communicated quest devolves into pixel-hunting across suburbs. These are not fatal problems, but in a game that runs roughly six to nine hours depending on side quest completion, every minute of unnecessary backtracking is felt. The writing is the reason to push through the friction. The dialogue is dry without being cruel, and the scenarios, a speakeasy candy drop-off, a Jefferson costume whose superattack involves hurling the Declaration of Independence at enemies, a future city patrolled by robot dental soldiers, have the kind of absurdist internal logic that Double Fine does better than almost anyone. The art direction reinforces this: costumes look genuinely handmade, all visible tape and fabric, and the environments are packed with Halloween-season detail that rewards slow walkers. The final section stumbles a little, with a narrative that resolves more abruptly than the setup deserves, but the ride getting there is worth it for players on the right wavelength. Mac players should note a known incompatibility with macOS 10.15 Catalina and above, so check your OS before buying. Monika, Scout Team