I've been enjoying watching ProJared struggle through Rise of the Dragon on Sega CD recently (which I learned was ported by Game Arts, of all people) so I thought I'd download my GOG copy and see how much I remembered.
Two hours later, I'd finished it, and the only bits I didn't remember were the parts where you literally just have to sit around waiting for something to happen. It's so strange how gaming has evolved over time; back when this game first came out, I remember it taking us weeks to beat for one reason or another, but yep… this evening I ploughed through the whole thing in two hours, done and dusted. I might have to do a video of it soon, since I know a few people have been requesting some adventure game playthroughs!
Anyway, regardless of its extremely short length, I'll always have fond memories of Rise of the Dragon. It's one of the first games I remember playing on an MS-DOS PC instead of the Atari STs we'd been using up until that point, and the Ad-Lib FM synthesis soundtrack is particularly iconic to me. Specifically, the Ad-Lib FM synthesis soundtrack being piped through a couple of tiny, unpowered speakers that came with our MS-DOS PC. I believe it was a 386 of some description, if I remember correctly, though my Dad, who worked for IBM for many years, had previously made use of an old XT (I think?) for a few things. Either way, the jump to 386 power, 256-colour VGA graphics and Sound Blaster Pro-compatible music and sound was a huge leap over what previous computers had given us.
But I also remember the game being rather striking, too. There had been adventure games on the Atari ST — including some of LucasArts' earlier work — so I was familiar with games that made an effort with storytelling by this point. But I'd never seen something that felt quite so "grown up" as Rise of the Dragon did. It was gritty, it was violent, it was gory and it had (implied) sexytimes. (Said implied sexytimes were, sadly, removed from the Sega CD version.) But it also had character and personality; the people in the game felt like actual characters rather than game mechanics, and you found yourself rooting for protagonist William "Blade" Hunter and his girlfriend Karyn.
On top of that, the setting was compelling. I don't know if I'd quite describe it as "cyberpunk", since there's not the usual aspect of body modification and transhumanism in there, but it was definitely an interesting, cynical — and, in 2020, depressingly convincing — depiction of what the mid-21st century might look like. Some things never change; some things change a great deal. Some things they got right — the subtle touch of literally every foodstuff in the game being manufactured by the same company is an even more cutting piece of satire today than it was in 1990 — and a few things they got hilariously wrong. In one scene, you're provided some evidence on a VHS tape, your VidPhone has a rotary dial and a typewriter keyboard, and upon examining it, the narrator proudly proclaims that it can broadcast a black-and-white image at "approximately eight frames per second".
The only weak point of the game is the atrocious "arcade" sequences that crop up in more action-packed parts of the story, but I suspect that developer Dynamix knew these were bobbins, since they allow you to skip them after you fail them five times. (Unfortunately this is not the case on the Sega CD version; you've got to tough it out until you beat them!)
All in all it was a thoroughly pleasant evening. And you can insert some sort of joke about a 30-year old MS-DOS game running better than Cyberpunk 2077 here if you really want to.
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