2323: Gateway Games

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There’s a good piece in the latest newsletter from Glixel, the upcoming new website that my brother’s working on in collaboration with the folks at Rolling Stone. The article focuses on Blizzard’s approach to game design, and how they rarely do anything completely new, and instead take an established formula that is often regarded as impenetrably complex or difficult to get into (especially once a community has been established) and make it accessible to the masses.

This isn’t a matter of “dumbing down”, though. No, it’s rather intelligent game design: it strips out the complicated things that more “hardcore” games have in them as a means for players to show their skills, and instead focuses on the core experience, creating an “easy to learn, hard to master” kind of situation.

The most recent example of this is, of course, Overwatch, which takes the basic formula set in something like Team Fortress 2, strips out all the complicated bits that have been bolted on to that game over the years, and makes an enjoyably easy to get into but tactically rich multiplayer shooter that pretty much anyone can enjoy. But Blizzard’s past work fits this mould, too, with perhaps their most famous work being World of Warcraft, which successfully made massively multiplayer online RPGs — traditionally not particularly user-friendly experiences — accessible and enjoyable to the masses.

It’s not just Blizzard that does this, of course. There’s great value in producing solid “gateway games” to particular genres, as they provide a means for people to learn about potentially new favourite styles of game without getting bogged down in complicated rulesets and techniques. Hopping genres from multiplayer shooters to dungeon crawler RPGs, Experience Inc’s Demon Gaze provided an excellent jumping-on point for me to learn how these traditionally challenging, complex games worked, and built up my confidence to tackle the significantly more complicated, difficult and long Dungeon Travelers 2. Elsewhere, Codemasters’ GRID series strikes an excellent balance between arcade-style handling and the greater realism of more “sim”-like racing games such as Gran Turismo and the early Forza games. Cave’s Deathsmiles is a good introduction to bullet hell shooters. Dead or Alive 5 is a good game to learn about one-on-one fighting games, particularly with its excellent tutorials and practice modes.

Board games do this, too. Some of the most popular and well-respected board games out there are “gateway games” to more complex experiences. Ticket to Ride, for example, teaches players about dice-free mechanics, set collecting and strategic unit placement without overcomplicating things with unnecessary rules. The Settlers of Catan is a great introduction to “building” games where you have to manage resources in order to construct various things. And deckbuilding games like Ascension and Star Realms can lead naturally into more customisable card games such as Android: Netrunner, Magic: The Gathering and suchlike.

Some people never move beyond these gateway experiences, and that’s absolutely fine. To be perfectly honest, I think I’m most comfortable with the simpler end of the spectrum when it comes to board games in particular, and I’m definitely digging the simplicity of Overwatch, as recent posts have doubtless made clear. What’s important about these experiences, though, is that they’re inclusive, allowing more people to enjoy hobbies traditionally thought as complex and difficult to get into than ever before. And having more people to play with is pretty much always a very good thing indeed.

2322: Lore of the Land

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(This should have posted yesterday but didn’t, for some reason. Apologies!)

I love lore. I absolutely love it when something I’m enjoying has that feeling that the entire world in which it’s set has been thought out and planned, even if 90% of the material is never seen within the work itself.

This is particularly brought to mind at the moment due to Overwatch, which has some absolutely fantastic superhero-style backstories for all its characters, with Pixar-quality animated shorts and comics putting a significant number of the characters in a lot more context than the game itself offers.

But there are some other particularly good examples I’ve experienced over the years, too.

One that springs to mind immediately is the visual novel-cum-strategy RPG hybrid Aselia the Eternal, which has some extraordinarily detailed writing throughout that means even though you never get to “explore” the world freely, you have a very strong sense of time, place and social norms. In the early hours of the game, you even start to get a feel for this strange other world’s unique language — and indeed, for a significant portion of the game, the voice acting is not in Japanese, but rather in this fictional language.

Another good example is the Senran Kagura series, which always has the strong feeling that there is a lot going on outside the stories of the central characters the games focus on. I predict that as the series continues to grow over time, we’ll start to see more and more of the broader context in which these young shinobi girls are fighting — we’ve already finally started confronting the terrifying youma in Senran Kagura 2: Deep Crimson.

And then, of course, there’s Final Fantasy XIV, which has lore so detailed that they have a staffer specifically hired to ensure that the lore stays consistent and can be explained in great detail to those who want to know more. Indeed, the Lore subsection of the official Final Fantasy XIV forums is one of the most interesting parts of the website, as it includes all manner of things about the game you may not have otherwise seen unless you specifically went looking for it.

Lore also leads to people coming up with their own theories about what is going on. I enjoy doing this myself and indeed have indulged in it publicly on occasion, but I also really love reading other people’s thoughts on things. I remember reading an extraordinarily detailed account of the metaphorical depictions throughout the Silent Hill series, for example, and being absolutely enraptured.

For me, lore makes things better. It gives things meaning and context. It can even give things that seem to have no real “story” as such — Overwatch is a good example, being a multiplayer shooter — a sense of narrative. And for me, in games at least, it’s often the difference between a game feeling like a cynical “product” or clearly coming across as a creative work of art, filled with the passion of its designers.

So more lore, please. And, on a side note, familiarising myself with much of the Overwatch lore over the last evening has made me very interested to see how Blizzard plans to develop the game over time.

2321: Treading the Boards

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Watching popular British topical panel show Mock the Week, which has an inexplicably large number of episodes available on Netflix — peculiar to me due to the topical, timely nature of it, not because of any particular lack of quality — reminds me somewhat of one of my favourite activities at university: participating in the university Theatre Group.

We did all manner of things as part of the Theatre Group. We put on plays, of which I was in several, including Macbeth (which we rather edgily revamped to make it look like The Matrix, like no-one had ever done that before), Ivan Turgenev’s A Month in the Country (which we took to Edinburgh, only to discover that the Edinburgh Fringe audience wasn’t as receptive to tragic Russian love stories as we would have liked) and Alan Ayckbourn’s Round and Round the Garden from the Norman Conquests cycle (which we also took to Edinburgh and discovered that the Edinburgh Fringe audience was a lot more receptive to Alan Ayckbourn).

I also directed an entertainingly chaotic production of Twelfth Night after my co-director sent me an email one morning informing me that she would be late back to university at the start of the spring term because she’d decided to go skiing, and would I mind awfully directing the show by myself because she didn’t want to? (That production gave me more nosebleeds than I’ve ever had in my life, but it was one of the most memorable experiences of my university career, in a good way.

We also threw great parties, usually (but not always) after a production, and had a regular night out at local grotty (but cheap) club Kaos. But the thing that I miss the most, I think — and the thing I’m reminded of when watching shows like Mock the Week and Whose Line is it Anyway? — is the regular improvisation sessions we had just prior to the regular nights out at local grotty (but cheap) club Kaos.

The improvisation sessions grew out of the warm-up activities that had become a Theatre Group tradition when starting rehearsals. These tended to be simple but fun activities that could double as drinking games in a pinch, but were often also designed to get our minds warmed up as well as our bodies and voices, and so quite often incorporated improvisation of various types.

Theatrical improvisation games are a lot of fun if you let yourself get drawn into the experience. This is something I always enjoyed about acting ever since secondary school Drama lessons: getting swept up in a role and feeling like you really were, just for a moment, someone else. And in improvisation you’re not confined by a script: you can take things to some very strange places indeed.

In fact, these improvisations eventually grew into a semi-regular improvisation-based show that the Theatre Group put on called Count Rompula’s Showcase. When you showed up to a Count Rompula’s, you never quite knew what you were going to get. On one particularly memorable occasion, the audience was subjected to The Web of Dan, a rather avant-garde piece that the eponymous Dan and some of his friends had joked about in rehearsals for other shows. I wasn’t directly involved with this eventual production, though I was at least present for the genesis of the idea in the rehearsals.

I miss those days a great deal. I’m occasionally reminded of them when we play Final Fantasy XIV, usually on patch day, and devolve into a series of cringeworthy puns based on the environment and enemies we’re fighting in a new dungeon. (The introduction of the icy dungeon Snowcloak was particularly good for this, as you can imagine.) But nothing will quite match the magic of those days when we sat in a circle, miming the action the previous person had said while saying a completely different action we wanted the next person to perform. Or performing scenes based on silly props. Or, indeed, playing Deutsche Erotika, which sadly is not quite as entertaining as its name might suggest.

2320: Never Pick One Main

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This advice is true for many different class-based games, be they massively multiplayer online RPGs like Final Fantasy XIV or competitive games like Dota 2 or, indeed, Overwatch. (Yes, it’s another Overwatch post, for which I make no apologies.)

Overwatch is an interesting case study, though, in that unlike the other examples I gave above, you can change your character and indeed your complete role in the team at any time — either immediately after dying or if you’re back in your base. This leads to a whole new interesting metagame where your team isn’t bound by the principles of the “holy trinity” of tank, healer and damage-dealer (or, in Overwatch’s case, the holy quartet of tank, support, offense and defense) and can instead evolve and change as a match progresses according to the team’s needs.

Because this is such A Thing in Overwatch, you absolutely shouldn’t pick a single character and “main” them like in other character-based games like competitive one-on-one fighters. At the bare minimum, you should be familiar with a hero in each of the four roles, and ideally you should at least know what every hero is capable of, even if you’re not particularly skilled in playing as them.

You can read guides about this, but the best way I’ve found to learn which hero is good against which opponent is simply to experiment and see what happens. That way, you’ll naturally figure out which heroes you enjoy playing and who they’re effective against.

I have a number of heroes that I’ve started gravitating naturally towards so far. I intend to expand my repertoire over time, but for the moment here are my favourites.

In the offense role, I’m a fan of Tracer. Her rapid fire guns immediately hit their target when you fire them, so there’s no need to lead targets in the same way as you need to with those who shoot more obvious projectiles — you still need at least a reasonable degree of precision, though. Her absolute best features are her special abilities, though. Her Blink ability lets her teleport a short distance up to three times in succession, letting her quickly dart across doorways and passages that are covered by dangerous sentry types such as Bastion or Widowmaker. And her Recall ability is great for confusing an enemy, as well as providing a means of self-healing by not only rewinding her location, but also the value her health was at a few seconds ago.

For defense, I like Mei. Her Ice Wall ability is great for blocking off specific routes and funneling the opposing team down a route you can cover more easily. Her weapon also has a great deal of flexibility; the short-range “ice thrower” acts a bit like a flamethrower only, you know, colder, and also has the added benefit of freezing enemies, initially slowing them and eventually freezing them completely for a brief moment. Her alt-fire, meanwhile, fires an immensely accurate icicle bolt that proves devastating to snipers such as Widowmaker, dealing a huge chunk of damage in a single hit at medium to long range. Combine this with her ability to freeze herself, making her temporary invulnerable while self-healing, and her Ultimate, which causes a freeze and damage effect over a decent-sized area, and you have a great defensive hero who is more than capable of going toe-to-toe with dangerous, occasionally insurmountable-seeming threats like Reinhardt.

In the tank role, I enjoy D.Va. D.Va is interesting to me in that she’s not necessarily designed to soak up a huge amount of damage in the same way as some of the other tank characters, but is instead a rather mobile unit that can put out a good amount of close-range damage while having much better survivability behind enemy lines than the Offense heroes. Her absolute best thing, though, is her Ultimate, which self-destructs her mech suit, taking anyone in a significant radius with it, including herself if she doesn’t get out of the way. What’s fun about this ability is that you can combine it with her mech suit’s jump jets ability, effectively “throwing” the self-destructing mech at the enemy team from a distance while she skips off happily into the distance. Also she’s adorable.

Finally, in the support role, I’ve had most success with Lucio. A speedy character with a passive “aura” effect rather than a more active healer like Mercy, Lucio is an excellent support character who is very capable of putting out a decent amount of damage in his own right. His decent mobility thanks to his high speed and Wallride ability allows him to move unpredictably and avoid damage, while the relatively short cooldowns on his abilities let him provide either speed boosts or decent healing to nearby companions on a pretty consistent basis. Not only that, but the fact his buffs and healing work as an aura mean that he can concentrate on wrecking some fools while he’s benefiting the team, meaning he can help out in several ways at once.

I’m sure I’ll discover new favourites in the near future, but for now these are the ones I’ve had the most success — and fun — with.

2319: Pass into the Iris

Overwatch is still excellent.

I’m tempted to leave it at that, but I should perhaps qualify my statement.

It’s difficult to pin down a single, truly appealing element of it because there are so many, and that’s perhaps it’s biggest strength: there’s something in there that will appeal to most people who are at least vaguely receptive to the idea of competitive first-person shooters.

For me, the absolute best thing about it is its accessibility. There’s a wide variety of different heroes, some of which are more difficult to use, but all of which are rewarding. Plus some absolutely wonderful balancing has clearly gone into the game’s development, since each hero has a clear “counter” that is eminently suitable for dealing with them when they start giving you grief.

It’s a game with accessibility for casual players, in other words, but one which has sufficient depth to keep competitive players interested in the long term. It will be interesting to see how the community as a whole takes to the ranked competitive games when they launch soon, and whether the game as a whole takes off as an e-sport.

It’s rather enjoyable to be in at the very beginning of what is clearly going to be a thriving game with the longevity of Valve’s classic Team Fortress 2, a game to which Overwatch is often compared, and not unreasonably so. However, where I found Team Fortress 2 to be completely intimidating (due to the fact that by the time I had a computer and Internet connection that could handle running it, everyone else who had been playing for years was infinitely better than me, and it felt impossible to get any better), with Overwatch I’m finding it easy to contribute to a team effort, pick the right heroes for the right situation and help get the job done.

What seems nice about the community as a whole — at least on PC, I can’t speak for the console versions — is that the player base isn’t afraid to have a bit of fun. Earlier tonight, for example, I had a game where the opposing team started out by posting three Winstons (a giant Tesla cannon-wielding gorilla with a rather refined voice and attitude) outside our base, and gradually, as the match progressed, everyone else participating switched to Winston too, until by the end of things we had an absolutely chaotic melee made up of twelve mutant gorillas all going all HULK SMASH on one another at once. The results of that game really didn’t matter in the end, because everyone involved had such a great time, and of course it was followed up with a couple of other matches in which everyone picked the same character again. Six Reinhardts bearing down on you is certainly a sight to behold, though this situation helped me realise Pharah’s value in that she can leap high into the air and rain rocket death down on Reinhardt from above while staying well out of range of his big-ass hammer.

Overwatch is a game that hasn’t forgotten a core reason we play games is, well, to play. It’s a consistently joyful, smile-inducing experience that the vast majority of the community seem to play well and with a good attitude; you get the occasional ragequitter yelling “uninstall the game now” when their team loses, but they are relatively few and far between in my experience so far, and when this happens most people just shrug and move on. Overwatch’s excellent matchmaking coupled with the significant player base means that their team slot will be filled in a matter of seconds anyway, so it’s no great loss to the other players if that person wants to ragequit.

Assuming Blizzard keeps supporting Overwatch as much as it claims it will — we’re promised free new heroes and maps on a fairly regular basis; the only “premium” paid content is the ability to purchase the Loot Boxes containing skins and other customisation items that you acquire for free every time your account levels up anyway — I can see myself playing it for a long time. And it’s a nice feeling to find a multiplayer experience like that: it’s one I can easily share with friends, since there’s none of the MMO issue of you “outlevelling” each other, getting to different stages and being unable to play together due to the disparity in your characters’ power levels, and its 5-10 minute matches make it eminently friendly to the more busy people I know who perhaps only have half an hour here and there to play some games together.

So yes. Overwatch. If you’ve been on the fence about grabbing it but you like the sound of it, stop hesitating and grab it. Then we can go and shoot some fools together.

Cheers luv.

2318: Rebooting in Progress

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You may recall a while back I decided to reboot my “sister site” to this blog, MoeGamer. Having now spent two months with my new format, I thought I’d revisit the idea here for the benefit of those who haven’t checked in on it recently.

Essentially, my thinking behind MoeGamer’s new format was to forgo the scattershot approach that games journalism and criticism today typically follows, and instead have a laser-sharp focus each month: a single game, or perhaps a series of games. Over the course of that month, I’d post a series of in-depth articles, each of which focused on a specific aspect of the game or series. By the time the month was up, there’d be a complete, substantial amount of writing about the game in question for readers to enjoy at their leisure, with the content remaining relevant long after it was written.

This is part of the problem with modern games journalism and criticism, and part of the reason it’s so trapped in the clickbait quagmire that ruins it so much. The ever-present need to produce timely content to meet embargoes and line up with release dates means that games that often deserve better don’t get the attention they deserve, and some games, as we’ve seen in the past, get a writeup of no value whatsoever, consisting entirely of the writer in question doing nothing but mocking the game and the people who like it without demonstrating any real evidence that they’ve bothered to try and engage with it on anything more than the most superficial level.

As I noted in my previous piece, though, because MoeGamer is a personal site that I write as a passion project, I’m not beholden to the fickle whims of advertising revenue and I have no obligation to bait people in with provocative headlines and articles about the creator of Minecraft calling someone a cunt (which, for what it’s worth, he was perfectly within his rights to do, as the person whingeing at him was being a cunt). Instead, I can explore games that have proven meaningful or interesting to me; games that are worthy of discussion. I can be positive about them, too, highlighting the things they do differently or particularly well and giving people reasons to check them out rather than, as so often happens with reviews today, reasons to avoid them.

The positivity thing in particular is something I feel strongly about. There seems to be a perception in a lot of modern criticism that you’re not doing your job properly if you’re not tearing something apart or telling it things it should do better. While there is value in this sort of criticism at times, it’s very easy to start reaching for things that are of little relevance to the work as a whole. Polygon’s infamous review of The Witcher 3 that complained about the lack of black people in a world inspired by Eastern European folklore is a good example, as is any writeup that bleats about sexism in an anime-style game without demonstrating any evidence of having explored the characters’ backgrounds.

Personally speaking, the kind of writing about games that I like to read is positive in nature. Games that changed your life, games that had personal meaning, games that elicited emotional responses, games that people haven’t heard of but should absolutely definitely positively check out. It is eminently possible to remain positive about things and still write interesting, compelling content, and it has the pleasant side-effect of creating a positive atmosphere around the articles, too, which encourages discussion and anecdotes of what the work in question means to other people. (There are exceptions, of course, as with most things on the Internet, but most people I know seem to respond far better to positive, enthusiastic writeups than ill-informed, poorly researched pieces that tear things apart unfairly.)

So that’s what I’m doing with MoeGamer. So far I’ve covered Senran Kagura Estival Versus and Megadimension Neptunia V-II. Next month I’ll be tackling Dungeon Travelers 2. Beyond that, I have a whole shelf full of games that I’m very interested in exploring in this level of depth, and I hope at least some of you enjoy reading my thoughts on them.

2317: 25 Floors Up

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I’m on the 25th floor of the Tower of Bogomil, Dungeon Travelers 2’s very definitely, totally, positively final dungeon, honest. There are just five floors to go until I reach the top and the final final boss, though I suspect I will probably have to go and fight at least one of the “Gods” that lurk at the bottom of the other postgame dungeons before it will let me in to get my teeth kicked in by the boss. Oh, there’s also a five-floor annex to the tower, because of course there is. Each floor of this is pretty small, from what I understand, though; they’re mostly about additional boss fights.

I checked the clock when I made my last save tonight: 208 hours. This is officially the longest I’ve ever spent on a completely single-player game. Final Fantasy XIV has it beat in terms of total playtime, of course, but being an evolving MMO, that’s a somewhat different situation. Previous holders of the personal playtime records for me included Persona 3 (somewhere around 90 hours), Persona 4 (likewise), several of the Hyperdimension Neptunia games (100+ hours each, albeit split across several playthroughs) and Xenoblade Chronicles X (well over 100 hours and I hadn’t even finished half of it — must go back sometime).

What’s kind of impressive about that playtime for Dungeon Travelers 2 is that it’s a single playthrough. I haven’t started again, I haven’t done a New Game Plus — this is the same save file I started months ago. And only now, after 208 hours, am I even vaguely near finished.

What’s also impressive about the playtime for Dungeon Travelers 2 is that the vast majority of it occurred after the main ending to the story. The “Otherworld Chapter”, as the postgame is called, unfolds largely without an ongoing narrative — it simply unlocks a series of challenging dungeons in sequence and tasks you with navigating your way through some increasingly perilous and head-scratchingly confusing locales with a mind to eventually opening up the aforementioned Tower of Bogomil and making your way to the top. Why? Just because. (Well, technically you think the final boss of the story, who managed to escape after you defeated her, might be lurking up there.)

This motivation for dungeon-crawling is one of the purest there is: the simple joy of exploration and discovery. And this is one thing that Dungeon Travelers 2 is absolutely exceptional at that. It may obviously be working within some tight budget constraints — there are a lot of palette-swapped enemies throughout the game, and each dungeon is based on a single tileset, which in the case of the Tower of Bogomil you see a whole lot — but the absolutely exemplary level design makes up for these limitations and then some.

What I found interesting is that Dungeon Travelers 2 keeps a lot of its tricks up its sleeve until the postgame. One of the latter story dungeons features some switch puzzles that involve opening either red or blue gates at once, never both, but the postgame also adds floors with conveyor belts, floors that are interconnected by ladders and pitfalls, floors that are full of teleporters on every step, one-way walls, secret passages and doors that demand you have a specific party makeup or class present in order to proceed.

Essentially, the main story of the game is getting you prepared for this pure exploration, combat and character-building experience in the postgame. You get a taste of what to expect in the future in the story; you get thrown in at the deep end once you’re past the “final” boss. And it’s hugely enjoyable, as my playtime will attest.

Five floors to go, then. I’m hoping I get it finished by the beginning of next month, because there’s a ton I’d like to write about this game over on MoeGamer, so watch over there for some in-depth thoughts.

2316: Overwatch is Out, and It’s Awesome

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Well, it’s here: the only multiplayer-only first-person shooter I think I’ve ever actually been genuinely excited to play and be on board with from day one: Blizzard’s Overwatch.

The servers went live at a little after midnight my time, and aside from one incident where I lost connection from a game, everything seems to be running extremely smoothly. I am happy about this.

Here is a list of reasons why I like Overwatch when I typically haven’t got into other competitive first-person shooters:

It has characters. Call of Duty is boring to me because soldiers are boring. Overwatch has a wide variety of characters that includes cute girls. So that’s a win.
There’s no complicated metagame. No challenges to unlock weapons, no perks to worry about, no loadouts, no higher-level people dominating you through use of higher-level unlocks: everyone is on an equal playing field.
The “you must be this skillful to play” barrier is lower than a lot of other shooters. The thing that puts me off a lot of competitive shooters is the fact that it’s extremely difficult to learn how to play them effectively when some 10-year old can snipe you from halfway across the map before you’ve even got anywhere near the objective. Overwatch’s characters cater to a wide variety of skill and confidence levels, and most don’t require pinpoint accuracy to have a good time with.
The objectives are simple to understand but challenging to complete. The game modes may be straight out of Team Fortress, but they work. The Overtime mechanic makes for some genuinely exciting last-second turnarounds, too.
The weapons are satisfying. Each character only has one or two weapons at most, and they’re all great fun to use. They make good noises and feel powerful.
The game gives excellent feedback. Through the use of sound and HUD elements, Overwatch keeps you nicely informed on what’s going on. If you’re getting shot in the back, a nearby character will tell you. If you’re successfully hitting an enemy from a distance but can’t see it very well, a sound effect lets you know that your shots are on target. And most characters’ HUDs are designed so that you don’t have to take your eyes off the action to know important information.
The abilities give characters unique identities. Not only that, but you need to know the best ways to avoid and/or counter these abilities. That keeps things interesting.
The support characters are more than just healbots. Most of them are more than capable of putting out respectable damage, too, and some even have other interesting abilities to support the team.
D.Va. Say no more.

Now I’d better go to bed before I get tempted to stay up all night blasting fools… doubtless there will be a lot more of this over the next little while, though!

If you’re playing Overwatch on PC, feel free to add AngryJedi#2260 as a friend. If you do so, let me know if it’s on the North American or European servers, because Blizzard inexplicably region-locks its friends lists rather than having one global one.

2315: RPGs are Weird

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In case you hadn’t noticed, my favourite genre of game is the RPG or role-playing game. Which is kind of a weird type of game, when you think about it, particularly from a modern perspective.

Computer RPGs (hereafter “CRPGs”) have their roots in tabletop roleplaying systems like Dungeons and Dragons and its ilk — indeed, the Dungeons and Dragons inspiration is very obvious even in Japanese titles like the original Final Fantasy, and we’ve also had a swathe of outright Dungeons and Dragons titles for various platforms over the years. Where CRPGs and tabletop systems diverge, however, is in their main purpose.

Tabletop role-playing is about different things according to who you speak to, but there are two broad things it allows its participants to engage in: firstly, it allows them to play-act a fantasy of some description, be it ruling the night as a vampire in modern-day New York, exploring the Planes and fighting otherworldly horrors or battling the Empire alongside Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. This is, for many people, the biggest attraction of tabletop role-playing: the chance to be someone else for a little while, and enjoy the experience with other people. Tabletop role-playing rules tend to be deliberately a little fuzzy around the edges, allowing for some bending here and there in the name of making a more entertaining experience for the participants; indeed, some of the most successful, effective systems have some of the most straightforward rules.

When those rules come into play, though, that’s the other big strength of tabletop role-playing: they allow for all manner of things to happen. If you really want to boil it down, they’re a means of using mathematics to create an abstract depiction of some sort of action, whether it’s something that is possible to depict literally (attempting to use diplomacy to prevent a war) or something that is pure fantasy (infusing yourself with the power of the Gods to leap 50 feet into the air and stab a demon in the left nostril with your holy sword). But for most groups, these rules are in service to the main attraction: the roleplaying; the communal storytelling; the shared fantasies.

CRPGs, meanwhile, focus almost exclusively on this latter aspect: the use of mathematics to abstractly represent things happening. It’s pretty rare to find a CRPG that affords you complete freedom to do what you want, and where they do exist, these experiences often feel a bit “empty” thanks to the lack of true human interaction — plus perhaps the awareness that the “freedom” you’re enjoying is just an illusion: all it really is is the game designer having thought of more things that you might do than some other people would have.

Because truly freeform role-playing doesn’t really work when you don’t have other humans in the equation, we get a focus on mechanics and rules, with perhaps a story of some description overlaid on the top as justification for the rules and mechanics you’re following. But it’s still a little strange, as I say — particularly through modern eyes.

Why? Because we’re at a stage where we don’t need to abstractly represent things as much as we used to. In the early days of video games, the abstract, mathematical mechanics of CRPGs were in part a response to technological limitations: they allowed for the representation of things that it simply wasn’t possible to render believably on the screen. Now, though, graphics hardware has come along to such a degree that there’s not much we can’t depict completely visually, given a talented art and animation team to bring these things to life. Not only that, but with the advent of motion control and virtual reality, we can even put ourselves among these things: these strange and fantastical locales; these weird and wonderful creatures. And we can interact with them physically.

So why, then, do we still have turn-based role-playing games that are deliberately and heavily abstract and unrealistic in their depiction of anything from battle to relationships?

Well, for a number of reasons, the first being that not every development company has infinite resources to be able to produce a game that depicts your every action literally on the screen. But there’s also the matter that engaging in abstract mechanics and learning how a game’s systems work is part of the fun. You can learn how to take full advantage of a real-time system, sure, but that takes practice and, frankly, not everyone has the physical dexterity to be able to do that. A mathematical-based system like a CRPG, though; that’s accessible to pretty much anyone, though of course it does favour those with a bit more of a mind for numbers over those with twitch reflexes.

And then on top of all that, there’s the fact that even though it is possible to depict a lot of things visually in games nowadays, there are still certain things that it’s hard to represent in anything other than an abstract manner. Take the combat in something like Dungeon Travelers 2, for example: the concept of this game is that you’re playing the role of a non-participant in combat, issuing orders for what up to five people should be doing, the results of which then unfold in front of you through a combination of visual effects, numbers popping up and text messages. By keeping to a simple representation of what would be an altogether chaotic affair if depicted literally — five people attacking up to five monsters — Dungeon Travelers 2 and its ilk allow the player to engage in enjoyably tactical, strategic gameplay that would be highly impractical to show in real-time.

The other thing that appeals to me personally about games like this is that they stoke the fires of the imagination. I know that Dungeon Travelers 2 doesn’t depict things literally — there’s very little animation in the game, even outside of combat — but I also know that it is keeping visual representations to a relative minimum in order to let my mind do the work. It provides just enough — the overall theme of the dungeon I’m exploring; music to support that; the voices and visual appearances of the girls in my party; the appearances and behaviours of the monsters we fight — to get my imagination fired up and fill in the blanks for myself. When Monica fires a Spiral Arrow and hits for 3,000 damage, I don’t think “ooh, 3,000 damage!” — I think “Wow, that was an amazing shot.” And I like that.

The bigger-name, bigger-budget CRPGs are starting to move more and more away from this sort of abstract depiction of what is happening — look at BioWare’s games, for example, or Square Enix’s approach to Final Fantasy XV (although in that case, it’s a peculiar middle ground between a truly literal depiction and abstracted mechanics) — but I’m pretty sure there will always be a place for imagination-stoking, presentation-minimal CRPGs for people like me. At least I hope so!

2314: Games That Deserve the Ys-Style Remake Treatment

Rather than pondering this as it occurred to me last night as I finished writing that day’s post, I thought I’d split this off into its own separate post, as it’s something that I think is worth thinking about in detail.

For the benefit of those who can’t be arsed to read yesterday’s post, my thinking is this: Ys I and II have had so many remakes over the years that their most recent incarnations are both recognisably “modern” and authentically “retro” at the same time. In other words, they maintain the feeling of the original games while incorporating modern aesthetic and mechanical standards to make them more palatable and enjoyable to a modern audience, as well as perhaps expanding on things like the overall script and story. This, to me, is a great way to bring a classic game up to date, so I started pondering what other old games might benefit from this treatment?

Here’s what I came up with. (Or rather, here’s what occurred to me as I wrote this post.)

Phantasy Star II

I played Phantasy Star I all the way through in its Game Boy Advance incarnation — actually just a straight port of the Master System original. I enjoyed it a great deal, despite the necessity of actually getting the graph paper out and mapping the dungeons.

Phantasy Star II, meanwhile, despite being enthusiastically raved about by a Phantasy Star-loving friend as his favourite in the series, just didn’t quite “click” with me for some reason. I liked its aesthetic, I liked its battle system, I liked its concept — I just couldn’t quite get into it.

Part of the reason for this was its dungeon design. By presenting its dungeons from a three-quarter top-down perspective rather than its predecessor’s first-person perspective, they became significantly harder to map effectively — and boy, you still needed to map them. The first big dungeon was a mess of almost identical-looking floors with transitions between them that sent you to all manner of different places, and I found it absolutely impossible to navigate effectively, and moreover, impossible to figure out a sensible, effective means of mapping it.

It’s not necessarily the lack of a map facility that was the problem, as both Ys I and II featured some fairly complex labyrinths that I nonetheless managed to navigate without mapping, but there was something about Phantasy Star II that I found irreconcilably confusing. A modern remake would perhaps benefit from a map facility, or perhaps even a rethinking of the dungeon designs — taking the latter approach would have the added benefit of making the game feel like a “new” experience for veterans, though purists would likely thumb their noses at the possibility. Perhaps there could be an option to have “classic” or “contemporary” dungeons according to your preference.

Aside from that, simply an update of the art would be lovely — and take Ys’ approach of improving the fidelity of the art without necessarily compromising its style; Ys I and II feature gorgeous ’90s anime-style character designs, and they look both lovely and distinctive, so I feel Phantasy Star II could benefit from such a visual update, too.

The Mercenary series

Mercenary and its two sequels Damocles and Mercenary III were defining games in my childhood. Some of the most technically impressive games of the 8- and 16-bit computer era, they were sprawling, open-world adventures that managed to tell an interesting story while giving the player an unprecedented degree of freedom to explore and just generally piss around in the world (and, later, solar system) that developer Paul Woakes had created.

They look very primitive today, though. Built on rigid grid systems with no more than one building per (pretty large) grid square, the environments were certainly large and sprawling, but rather empty-feeling at times. A modern remake could benefit from greater scenery density and perhaps an expansion of the dynamic scenery Mercenary III introduced in the form of its fully functional public transportation system.

There was actually going to be a Damocles remake at one point with full texture-mapped graphics and all manner of other goodies — this was a few years back, too, so I can only imagine what modern graphics hardware would make of this sort of game. Unfortunately, I feel that very few people have heard of this series these days, so I feel it’s destined to remain part of history rather than something that will ever get brought up to date and given to a brand new audience.

Shining Force

Sega’s classic strategy RPG already had one lovely remake on the Game Boy Advance, but it’s since disappeared from relevance everywhere except for the Sega Mega Drive Classics pack available on Steam. And while the Mega Drive version still works just fine, it would be kind of lovely to see a fully up to date version of the original Shining Force, its sequel and even the Game Gear version Shining Force Gaiden (which, fun fact, was also released for Palm devices, of all things).

Shining Force’s gameplay remains solid today, and with the popularity of Fire Emblem it’s not too much of a stretch to say that all it needs is a fresh coat of paint and a remastered soundtrack to make it something people would more than likely happily pay £15 to have in their Steam library or PSN downloads. Hell, I’d happily pay £40 for a physical edition of a Shining Force compilation, including modernised updates of Shining Force, Shining Force II and Shining Force Gaiden, perhaps even with upscaled versions of the various Shining Force III releases for good measure.

And localise the other two Shining Force III games while you’re on, Sega, while I’m dreaming.

Alternate Reality

I mention this game quite a lot, because it’s fascinating to me. I found it fascinating when I first played it as a child, even if I didn’t understand how role-playing games worked at the time, and I still find its complexity and depth fascinating today.

For the uninitiated, Alternate Reality was a proposed series of games that began with The City and continued into The Dungeon, but was ultimately scrapped before its other episodes were completed. The story deals with the player character being abducted by aliens and taken to another world, seemingly medieval in nature but with occasional whiffs of peculiar technology starting to become apparent, particularly in The Dungeon. The ultimate intention was for the player to discover the aliens’ plan — a Matrix-style virtual world designed to make its participants believe that they were living a “real life” in this other world, when in fact they were just existing as part of a simulation — but unfortunately this ambitious concept was never brought to fruition.

We have the graphical technology and programming knowhow to bring the complete Alternate Reality concept to fruition today, in more impressive form than ever before. Bethesda RPGs show that there’s very much a market for sprawling, freeform, open-world games that the player can tackle as they see fit, and the complete scope of Alternate Reality wouldn’t be any more ambitious than your typical Elder Scrolls game.

I would even be happy if it maintained its old-school “gridder”-style dungeon crawling presentation rather than featuring a true, fully modelled 3D open world — I just dream of one day seeing creator Philip Price’s original vision brought to fruition, and kind of wish I was able to do something about it myself!