Myst:
Okay — done. It works fine in win98. I’ve not bothered looking at all of the endings, though. Myst is a much easier game than is Riven, though I did end up turning tail to a hint page because of stupid blunders and oversights on my part. Here they were, in total:
1 — somehow, it never dawned on me that one could walk behind the elevator shaft in the rotating tower on Myst island — a somewhat big oversight, and the same kind of problem I had that one time in Riven. Actually, I do remember walking back there when I was playing the game long, long ago, but I only remember this now, after the fact.
2 — I was a little too jumpy. I had the time and numbers for the clock code on Myst Island, again, written down, I knew that the clock was probably tied to the gears, and I knew it was the last puzzle on the island. I had been trying to figure out what was the correct time to which to set the clock ever since I saw the damned thing the for the first time, but, for whatever reason, something in my brain didn’t click for a few moments and I went back to the hint guide prematurely. The dumb thing is, I actually knew what I was looking up; I knew where to rotate the tower — my brain was just fuzzy.
3 — I scoured Channelwood about eight times over, trying to figure out how the hell to get onto the spiral staircase and how to operate the elevator right next to it, knowing that the two were probably intertwined. I also couldn’t find the red and blue pages in that age and knew they were probably on the upper-upper level which I couldn’t get to without using the staircase. blah, blah. Ends up that, somewhere in that mess of huts on the upper level, there was a lever which opened the door/gate which had been blocking my way. I walked by it (the lever) a hundred times, and I would have walked by it a hundred more. There’s no possible way I would ever have seen the lever, no matter what state of mind I might have been in. I was supposed to spot one unnotable stick amongst thousands and know it to be of signifigance?
4 — I did, early in my progress, notice the left half of the note which told how to obtain the final page of Atrus’ Myst linking book, but didn’t immediately know what it was and told myself to remember it for later, knowing I’d come across the second half at some point in the future. Ends up the second half was in Channelwood — in a drawer under a bed in the same location as the red and blue pages. I was just so annoyed and impatient about not seeing the previously-mentioned lever that I walked right by the note, grabbing the pages and getting out of there in frustration. I’d wasted enough time in that place. If the lever were more obvious or I’d otherwise just seen the damned thing in the first place, I’d have been more cautious, as I usually am. But I was irritated and I ran in and out, barely looking at anything. Later, when Atrus told me to find the missing white page to his book, I had no clue what to do. I thought it was dreadfully unfair of the game to just randomly tell me to find something which could be anywhere in the game with no clues at all. By this time, I’d been irritated enough that I forgot all about the half-note I made sure to remember for later. So, after dinking around and pouting for a while, I looked up the hint guide once again. Oh. That’s right — the note. Oh. Channelwood? Sigh. And it was in the one room in the game which I didn’t scour mercilessly.
Anyway, I think those were pretty reasonable hints I took; mostly my own fault and (with the exception of the frustration-related blunders) basically the same mistakes I made in Riven. Thing is, in Riven there were about five ways to do everything, so when I overlooked a few details, the game just made it a bit more difficult for me rather than blocking progress completely.
The ending of Myst is. . .well, strange. After Playing Riven, it’s a perfect intro to the second game, and it doesn’t annoy me very much because I know what comes next. I can imagine, however, if Riven didn’t exist or I’d never played it, that the ending could be disappointing, as I’d heard it rather was.