Imagine, for a moment, that you’re a lost young man, wandering a strange place that’s crawling with monsters that shoot and spit things at you, with nothing but a small shield to deflect objects and no weapon to speak of.

You wander across hills, through woods, and into sparsely lit caverns, seeking guidance of any kind, only to be met with cryptic messages from crazy old men who shoot fireballs at you or steal your money if you make them angry.

Now imagine that you, the gamer, are controlling this hapless individual, directing him but not knowing where to look first. What would you do to find your way?

Well, in today’s web-centric life, you’d simply hop on Google and ask others for some help.

But back when The Legend of Zelda first arrived in 1986, there was no Google (weird, right?). There was no internet, no GameFAQs, no online message boards on which to seek assistance from fellow gamers. You were essentially living out the fantasy portrayed on that shiny gold cartridge – a lost, lonely young man (or woman) trying to find out what to do.

But from that mystical far-away land known as Redmond, Washington, a faint glimmer of hope shone through the darkness and eased your fear that you’d be wandering Hyrule endlessly for weeks on end. The sages at Nintendo Power felt you had earned the right to be handed the NES Game Atlas.

An 8-bit holy grail.

This was no ordinary book. No, the Game Atlas was what every Strategy Guide hoped to be when it grew up, what every gamer had ever dreamed of, and what every enemy – from Ganon on down to the lowliest Octorock – had feared worst.

This holy grail led you along the path to greatness, step by cautious step. No longer were the lost hills to be feared; you now had a guided path through even the most daunting of mazes and challenges. The entire overworld was visible, and the entrances to the underworld levels no longer looked intimidating with their black, gaping maws. Now it appeared as though the dungeons themselves were scared, screaming in terror at the unstoppable threat about to breach their walls and steal their treasures.

So THAT's what this place looks like.

And perhaps the Game Atlas’s greatest feature was its versatility. You were not simply limited to Hyrule. No, once the evils had been vanquished from that great land (twice, as Link’s Adventure is included as well), the gamer was then free to traverse the Mushroom Kingdom looking for the lost Princess Peach, don the blue metal boots of Mega Man himself, or pick up the Belmont family whip and hunt some vampires.

This guide was truly an 8-bit gamer's best friend, most trusted companion, and closely guarded secret. It is unknown how many versions of the Game Atlas survive to this day, but those that do have surely seen their share of battles.

One thing is certain, however: gamers who came in contact with the Game Atlas were immediately in awe of its power, and thanked the wise men from Redmond every time they were able to whomp Wily, protect Peach, or become the Hero of Hyrule.