2168: Xenoblade Chronicles X: My Game of the Year

It being the 28th of December, I feel fairly confident in declaring my own personal Game of the Year, and it will probably not surprise any of you to hear that it is Monolithsoft's spectacular Wii U role-playing game Xenoblade Chronicles X. In this post, I will attempt to explain exactly why this game has impressed me so much — and why I'm disappointed (though, I must admit, unsurprised) that the popular games press has given so little attention and/or Game of the Year consideration to it.

The first thing to note about Xenoblade Chronicles X is that it is not Wii classic Xenoblade Chronicles. Aside from a number of similarities in the combat system — including a bunch of abilities that have been brought over wholesale from the original game — Xenoblade Chronicles X is a completely different affair to its predecessor. Where Xenoblade Chronicles' focus was on its strong, linear narrative punctuated by sidequests, Xenoblade Chronicles X's main scenario is, in many ways, the least important part of the whole package, with the incredible sense of worldbuilding produced by the numerous sidequests and optional events instead being the main point of proceedings.

Let's go back a step, though, for the benefit of those who are unfamiliar with Xenoblade Chronicles X in general, and consider it on its own terms rather than getting too hung up on comparing it to its predecessor — which, as we've established, is a different (and not necessarily superior or inferior) experience.

Xenoblade Chronicles X's setup is classic sci-fi. Earth gets caught in the crossfire between some powerful alien races, and looks set for certain destruction. Numerous people manage to escape on colony ships, which take to the stars in search of a new home. Our story concerns the White Whale, a ship which crash-landed on a planet called Mira when one of the alien forces responsible for Earth's destruction caught up with it and destroyed it.

The White Whale broke up on its destruction, but its habitation section remained intact, and humanity quickly set about converting this part of the ship into Mira's first human city. Being modelled on 21st century Los Angeles, the city is dubbed New Los Angeles, and it doesn't take long for a suitable system of social structure to be put into place and help ensure everyone is doing their bit for humanity's survival.

Key to these efforts is BLADE, an organisation concerned with Building a Legacy After the Destruction of Earth — do you see what they did there? BLADE is made up of several Divisions, each of which specialises in important tasks for humanity's continued survival, be it scouting for raw materials, defending the city from dangerous indigenous creatures or maintaining the peace within the city walls.

Your character — for you can create your own avatar in this, rather than playing a pre-scripted character as in the original Xenoblade Chronicles — awakens in a crashed escape pod with the obligatory JRPG amnesia. Discovered by a young woman named Elma, who immediately shows herself to be a capable combatant and responsible individual, you're brought back to New LA and you join BLADE. From there, you become part of humanity's efforts to settle on Mira — and to defend your people from the threat of the Ganglion, a collective of aliens who want nothing more than to wipe humanity off the face of the universe for reasons known only to themselves.

As you progress through Xenoblade Chronicles X, more and more interesting things open up to you. The first couple of chapters are story-centric, but allow you to wander off and explore the game's enormous open world on foot as you see fit if you so desire. Once these are out of the way and your character has joined BLADE, you can start taking on missions, which range from simple MMO-style "collect this" or "kill this" Basic Missions to scene-setting, context-providing Normal Missions and character-centric Affinity Missions.

You're free to progress through the twelve chapters of the game's main story at whatever pace you choose, and the narrative is actually designed in such a way that it doesn't provide a sense of dissonance if you leave the main scenario hanging for a while. Instead, each chapter of the main scenario is effectively a self-contained mini-story in its own right, so there's no sense of putting Important Shit on hold while you go and pick flowers or hunt dinosaurs or whatever. This means that Xenoblade Chronicles X's story becomes as much about what happens in between those major story beats as it does during the more dramatic, cutscene-heavy nature of the main scenario.

In fact, in many ways, it's the side missions of Xenoblade Chronicles X that are the best part of the game, because they render the strange world of Mira and humanity's attempts to start over in far more detail than a linear story ever would. The side missions introduce numerous alien races, for example, many of whom choose to move in to New LA and coexist with humans after your successful first contact with them. Side missions also affect the world, and many of them are written in chains, where events that transpired earlier have an impact on what happens later, with some even having branching outcomes and questlines according to decisions you made earlier in the game.

Character development and customisation is pretty spectacular, being more akin to what you'd probably expect from a Western RPG than a Japanese affair. Your own character is completely customisable: you can switch between classes (and the associated weapons) at will, and mastering a particular branch of classes masters its weapons, allowing you to use them (and their associated abilities) in whatever combinations you see fit. You can also equip your character in armour that you feel suits your play style well, be this damage-absorbing heavy armour, evasion-heavy light armour or a mixture. Armour and weapons can be customised with augments, and upgraded with minerals mined via probes you place around the open world during your exploration. New armour, weapons and vanity clothing can be crafted. And your actions will cause various arms manufacturers to set up shop in the city, with the quality of their wares improving as you use their equipment and donate resources to their respective causes.

Once you hit the game's halfway point, a whole other set of systems opens up as you gain access to "Skells", the giant mechs that have been seen throughout much of the game's promotional material. Skells are just as customisable as characters, perhaps even more so; they're equipped with a vast array of weapons, each of which corresponds to a particular ability as well as affecting the Skell's performance as a whole. You can swap out various pieces of armour and weapons, paint it a lurid shade of pink and name it "Murderbot" if you so desire. And then you can equip the rest of your squad with them once they reach level 30, too, building your party into an unstoppable force of Big Stompy Robots.

Pleasingly, gaining access to Skells doesn't mean that you never participate in the excellent on-foot combat ever again. Rather, both in-Skell and on-foot fighting each have their own benefits according to what you're doing. Skells are generally better for fighting larger opponents, while you get more experience for taking down opponents on foot. On-foot combat also features a mechanic called "secondary cooldowns", where if you let a skill charge twice instead of just once before using it, it will have some form of added effect that could be anything from additional damage to being able to immediately reuse it. Skell combat, meanwhile, allows you to bind enemies so the rest of your team can wail on them uninterrupted, and also has an entertaining mechanic called Cockpit Time, where you get an awesome in-cockpit view of your character pulling levers and flipping switches to unleash the Skell's weaponry on your opponent. You are invincible while this is going on, too, so you can enjoy it without having to worry.

Later still in the game, you gain the ability for your Skells to fly, which gives the game a whole different feel again. Flight allows you to access numerous locations that you wouldn't have been able to get to before — plus Mira looks pretty beautiful from the air. It's also incredibly impressive that Xenoblade Chronicles X's world is genuinely seamless — you can take off from New LA's residential district in your Skell, take to the skies and fly all the way north to the fiery region of Cauldros on the other side of the ocean without seeing a single loading screen.

Xenoblade Chronicles X is, for me, my Game of the Year because it makes me happy on so many levels. It's a beautiful realisation of a classic sci-fi concept that has fascinated me for years. It features some of the best worldbuilding and sense of the setting being a real place that I've seen outside an MMO. It has incredible — and unconventional — music. And it tells great stories: the main scenario is interesting, compelling and dramatic, but just as entertaining are the more subtle stories told by the sidequests, the gossip you overhear in the streets and your own personal career as a BLADE.

Xenoblade Chronicles X deserves to be hailed as a classic. It's the most ambitious, impressive console RPG I've seen for years — perhaps ever — and, while it has its flaws and perhaps may not gel with everyone who tries it due to the obtuseness of some of its systems, it succeeds far better in its attempts to provide a convincing simulation of surviving life on a new and hostile planet than any number of procedurally generated Early Access Minecraft knockoffs you'd care to mention.

Buy a Wii U. Buy Xenoblade Chronicles X. This game deserves to be a success, and it deserves to be celebrated much more than it has been to date.

2166: A Merry Christmas to You

Merry Christmas! Admittedly, at the time of writing it is now officially Boxing Day where I am, but it's still Christmas in certain parts of the world as I type this, so my well-wishes totally count.

It's been a very nice day. Andie and I decided to have a Christmas by ourselves this year, without travelling to either of our respective parental homes and instead visiting both respective sets of parents a little later in the festive season.

For the last few years, Christmas hasn't felt like a huge deal. I — perhaps understandably — no longer felt the intoxicating sense of anticipation that I felt throughout December when I was a child, and in many cases, Christmas Day came and went without me feeling particularly festive at all.

This year felt particularly pleasant for some reason. Perhaps it's the fact that it's been a difficult period for me, Andie and numerous other people we know, and it was nice to have a day where we could completely switch off from all that and just relax. Perhaps it's the fact that we had a deliberately low-key Christmas, with no obligations or commitments whatsoever.

That's probably part of the reason some people find the festive season so stressful. Modern society places so many obligations and commitments on us around the festive season that it can be difficult to just enjoy some time away from work and/or hanging out with your family and friends. Sometimes you just want to open some presents, eat a shitload of biscuits and play computer games for the rest of the day without having to worry about the people you're supposed to visit, the people you're supposed to phone and the things you're supposed to do.

So that's what we both did today. And it was lovely. Tomorrow I have to go to work, because retail, but I have two days off after that, so you better believe I will be making the most of them by doing as little as humanly possible. My bum-imprint on the sofa is ready and waiting to be occupied.

Anyway. A very merry Christmas to you, wherever you are reading this from in the world, and may the rest of your holiday season be suitably festive.

2165: Dirt Showdown and Vulgar Racing

I am a fan of what I described to my friend Alex yesterday as "the vulgar side of racing games". This is a pretentious way of saying that I'm a fan of arcade racers more than more realistic fare, but it kind of goes a little deeper than that: I'm a fan of racing games that firmly put an emphasis on fun and spectacle as opposed to providing a faintly plausible virtual driving experience.

Codemasters' Dirt Showdown, which I picked up in the Steam Halloween sale, pushes all of my buttons in this regard.

Dirt Showdown is the very essence of vulgar racing. It's loud, it's brash, it's very American (despite the Codies being British), it's full of scrappy-looking cars that you'd expect to find burnt out in a council estate in Croydon… and it's a ton of fun.

A lot of Dirt Showdown's fun factor comes from its hyperactive nature — and this is true both within single events, all of which are chaotic and specifically set up to encourage full-contact racing, and within the game structure as a whole. The single-player campaign sees you flip-flopping from one discipline to another — one minute you'll be racing, the next you'll be smashing your way around a course made up of barriers, the one after that you'll be trying to knock all of your opponents off a raised platform — and multiplayer is much the same, with the added chaos of some rather "sport-like" competitive games modelled on Capture the Flag and Halo's Oddball mode.

You're never stuck doing the same thing for very long, in other words, and this is what keeps the game interesting. Of course, there's nothing stopping you setting the multiplayer mode to do nothing but races, but where's the fun in that? The beauty of Dirt Showdown is that it encourages you to master flinging your car around with a variety of different goals in mind, be it dispatching opponents as quickly as possible, or simply beating them to the finish line.

The big appeal element in Dirt Showdown for me, though, is the fact that it's an honest-to-goodness arcade racer. This is not a game intended to be taken seriously or be regarded as a sim; it's not a game where you can admire lovingly detailed cockpit views; it's a game about taking a hunk of junk (or, indeed, a few licensed rally cars) and then hurling it at a bunch of other hunks of junk and seeing who comes out on top. It's a game about tapping the handbrake rather than using the actual brake to go around corners; it's a game that features races specifically designed to encourage pileups. I approve of all of this.

Plus it's super-cheap in the currently running Steam sale. So if you haven't given it a shot yet — assuming you're a racing game person — be sure to check it out.

2164: The Specialists

I find the evolution of British developer-publisher Codemasters rather interesting, since they've been part of my life since I was very young, and they've changed significantly over the years.

When I was a kid, Codemasters was a label primarily associated with budget-price games for 8- and 16-bit computers. Their games were typically released on a wide variety of platforms ranging from the ZX Spectrum to the Commodore Amiga and everything in between, and development of these games was such that every platform had a decent version of their games within the limitations of its respective hardware. It was quite an impressive achievement, when you think about it, especially considering the sheer number of different platforms that were around between the '80s and '90s.

Old-school Codemasters' most well-known franchise was probably the Dizzy series. Vaguely positioned as a home computer alternative to the fashionable "mascot platformers" of the consoles — stuff like mainstays Mario and Sonic as well as third-party attempts like Bubsy and Cool Spot — the Dizzy games were actually rather interesting in that they weren't so much platform action games a la Mario and Sonic, but instead were more akin to adventure games. You explored a 2D side-scrolling open world, you probably wanted to make a map, you collected items to put into your inventory, you used said items to make things happen and solve puzzles.

Each Dizzy game was essentially the same structurally, but they differed in setting, and this often made a surprisingly large difference to the overall "feel" of the games. Compare Treasure Island Dizzy, which unfolded on a tropical island, to Fantasy World Dizzy, which took place in a world that stretched from the ground to the clouds. Despite having the same basic mechanics, both were very distinctive from one another, and well worth playing.

I'm not sure when it was that Codemasters shifted from a budget label to their present position, but it's gratifying to see what a huge success they've made of themselves in the last few years in particular. Not through modernising Dizzy, though; instead, the Codemasters of today is a very specialist publisher, focusing entirely on racing games of various descriptions.

And it's been a huge benefit to them to focus on this one, single genre of game that they've ended up being rather good at. Much like the different Dizzy games shared mechanics but had a unique look and feel to them, the various series that Codemasters offer today all have similar structures and mechanics, but unique feels to them. Compare the rally-centric Dirt series with the disparate disciplines of the GRID series, for example — or even the destructive chaos of Dirt Showdown to the rather more disciplined but still fun Dirt 3.

An awful lot of developers and publishers these days try to have a broad portfolio and appeal to lots of different people. But, to my mind, Codemasters have the right idea: find what you're good at, then focus exclusively on that. That's how you build up a loyal fanbase who will almost certainly purchase pretty much anything you put out — and how you become recognised as industry leaders in your specialist field.

Now, about applying the same philosophy to the games press…

2163: The Shallow End of Deep Crimson

I finally got around to firing up Senran Kagura 2: Deep Crimson today and so far I'm already very impressed — both with how it's a significant improvement on the 3DS original game, and how it's a markedly different experience to both its Nintendo-based predecessor and its Vita-based spinoff Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus.

For the uninitiated, Senran Kagura is a series involving two rival ninja schools, one of "good" shinobi and the other of "evil" shinobi. The Versus spinoff series introduces two additional groups into the mix, each with their own narrative, but the mainline series focuses on the conflict — and, at times, cooperation — between the Hebijo and Hanzou academies, and their respective elite classes.

Senran Kagura tells its stories via several forms of media within the game itself: narration-heavy visual novel sequences delivered from a first-person perspective by one of the characters, allowing us insight into how that particular character thinks, feels and responds to the situations in the narrative; more "game-like" talking head sequences between characters, involving animated, very expressive character models; and dialogue during gameplay itself. The series is noteworthy for its depth of characterisation, relatable casts and total lack of shame when it comes to discussing everything from the philosophy of "good" and "evil" to sexuality.

The first Senran Kagura game we saw in the West — actually a compilation of the first Japanese Senran Kagura game and its follow-up, which made the original "villains" of Hebijo playable and provided them with their own story — played out like a modern version of Streets of Rage. Unfolding from a side-on 2.5D perspective, you (usually) ran from right to left, beating up everyone who got in your way until a big flashing "GO" sign appeared indicating you should move onto the next area and repeat the process. Many levels concluded with a boss fight against one of the shinobi from the opposing school, and there was a bizarre final boss fight that kind of saw Shit Get Real just before the credits rolled.

Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus, meanwhile, eschewed its predecessor's 2.5D nature in favour of something more akin to a scaled-down Dynasty Warriors. Battles now unfolded in full 3D arenas, though the basic structure of the game remained the same — fight enemy group, proceed to next area and/or wave of enemies, fight boss, win. The shift to 3D gave the game quite a different feel, but the combat was tight and responsive, and every character felt very different.

Senran Kagura 2 shifts the style of play once again, blending elements of the original game and Shinovi Versus to create something that — so far, anyway — seems to be a lot of fun. Rather than providing the full freedom of a 3D arena, Senran Kagura 2 instead unfolds from fixed camera angles, mostly presenting a vaguely side-on view, but with considerably more depth than the first game. The game actually makes very good use of the 3DS' stereosopic 3D visuals to allow you to judge depth, range and distance, and, given the 3DS' lack of a right stick to control the camera, this more "controlled" perspective on the action makes a lot of sense.

I've only played a few of the introductory levels so far, but already the game feels a lot more challenging than its predecessor, too; while button mashing will get you through trash enemies reasonably reliably, bosses no longer respond to such simple tactics, instead demanding that you position yourself carefully, wait for a suitable opening and then use an appropriate attack to get within range without putting yourself in danger. I can see the Super-Secret Ninja Arts being Super-Secret Ninja Useful too, since these are often a good means of throwing an enemy off balance as much as dealing significant amounts of damage to them.

I'm pretty excited about the new structure of the game, too; as well as the main story, Senran Kagura 2 features a couple of additional modes. Youma's Nest sees you working your way through a "pyramid" of challenge levels and attempting to complete as many of these as possible without healing in order to earn rewards; Special Missions, meanwhile, allow you to earn new equipment for your shinobi as well as presenting you with challenges under various conditions.

There seems to be a whole lot more variety to the experience, and lots of things to unlock. I'm excited to get stuck in, because I both enjoy the Senran Kagura games as old-school brawlers, and enjoy spending time in the company of these lovely characters, too.

Hidden Nin-Po!

2161: Story is About More Than Cutscenes

One of the most common complaints I've read about Xenoblade Chronicles X recently is that "the story isn't as good as Xenoblade Chronicles". And, if you look at it in a somewhat superficial manner, that's true to an extent; it suffers a little from the open-world RPG's perennial problem that is putting Important Things on hold while you go and pick flowers or whatever.

You may feel this way until you get your head into the mindset of Xenoblade Chronicles X. It's not a typical JRPG with a fast-paced, completely linear storyline that you can then break completely when the game opens up towards the end. With a few exceptions — most notably the giant mech "Skells" and, later, the ability to fly in them — much of the game is open to you from the very outset, and the whole game is designed around the concept of "what would happen if you (and the rest of humanity's survivors) were stranded on an alien planet with no hope of getting away any time soon?"

In that sense, Xenoblade Chronicles X's narrative — and the way it is told — starts to make a whole lot more sense. The story isn't just about the "story quests" and the cutscenes they incorporate; there's only twelve chapters to the main story, after all. Instead, the complete Xenoblade Chronicles X narrative consists of a blend of all the game's elements: your freeform career as a BLADE operative and the emergent narrative that comes from your adventures in the field; the simple, short stories that come from the Normal Missions and give context to many of the NPCs in the world — and, in many cases, have significant impacts on the world as a whole; the more in-depth, character-centric stories of the Affinity Missions — which also have cutscenes and are fully voiced, unlike the Normal Missions; the conversations you overhear from NPCs you meet in town and in the field; the implied, non-explicit narrative you can deduce from the scenery of the world; and, finally, the "main" story itself.

I mentioned at the beginning the open world RPG's curse of the party putting saving the world (or equivalent activities) on hold while they went to pick flowers, but in fact Xenoblade Chronicles X has been designed with that very criticism in mind. It's strongly implied that a fair amount of time passes between each of the story missions, since there are numerous references to time-consuming things happening "off-screen" throughout. Rather than simply asking you to accept that several days/weeks/months have passed, however, it's more than likely that, unless you're taking a "critical path" approach to racing through the storyline as fast as you can, a significant amount of time probably will have passed between each of the story missions. And it's in those "in between" moments that Xenoblade Chronicles X has some of its most interesting moments.

The aforementioned Normal Missions, for example. While these may appear to have had less attention lavished on them than the cutscene-heavy Affinity and Story Missions, in actual fact they tend to have more noticeable impacts on the world as a whole. As a result of Normal Missions and your choices therein, characters move around and live or die; buildings are built or destroyed; relationships between characters change; and, in the most drastic example of things changing as a result of your actions, new alien races move into the human city of New Los Angeles, meaning that you can then see them wandering around the streets as random crowd NPCs, talking to named members of their species and even accepting missions from them. As you play through the game, your understanding of Mira — and the wider universe outside the planet — begins to grow, as you get a feel for who the Ma-non, Zaruboggan, Prone and numerous others are, and, more importantly, how they feel about both one another and humanity.

The complete picture you build up in your mind as you play is one of the most comprehensively detailed pieces of worldbuilding I've seen for a very long time. It brings to mind the whole idea of "extended universes" for things like Star Trek and Star Wars, only in this instance, the "extended" universe is right there in the game for you to discover if you see fit. There's no obligation to do most of this stuff — though some story missions have prerequisite Affinity or other missions before you can proceed — but doing so makes the game several orders of magnitude more rewarding, as it starts to tell its story in all manner of different ways rather than simply through cutscenes.

As the year draws to a close, there's no doubt in my mind that Xenoblade Chronicles X is absolutely my "game of the year". It's full of all the things that I love, and, while its way of doing things may not to be everyone's taste — particularly the complexity of its systems and the subtleties in its storytelling — I feel pretty confident in saying that it's a landmark game that deserves to be counted among the greats of not just the RPG style of game, nor just the sci-fi genre of narrative games, but of gaming as a whole.

2160: Smash It

Super Smash Bros. really has become something rather marvellous: a kind of interactive "museum" of gaming, wrapped in an incredibly accessible but surprisingly deep fighting game shell.

I mention this because I grabbed the new Cloud Strife DLC for the game earlier and have spent a bit of time getting to know the new character. I like him a great deal; his moveset makes me very happy indeed, consisting almost entirely of Cloud's iconic Limit Break moves from Final Fantasy VII, and he's also a character I feel reasonably confident about how to use.

I've had mixed feeling about Super Smash Bros. over the years, partly because I've never been that good at it, and I have a friend who is very good at it, meaning it's not always 100% fun to play it with other people. Ultimately, though, I'm pretty sure I've come down on the side of liking it, because it really is a game like no other: the combination of characters, backdrops, music and sly references to all manner of games, both new and old, is absolutely delightful, and the complete antithesis to the homogeneous nature of most triple-A games.

It's also a damn good fighting game. A few weeks ago, out of curiosity, I read the beginning of an e-book about how to git gud at fighting games, since I've never really got my head around them. The book recommended learning to play using Street Fighter II, since that is the foundation on which most modern fighting games are built, but I was very surprised to discover that much of the advice contained therein very much applied to Super Smash Bros. I could feel myself playing better immediately after reading the book; it was the most obvious example of learning something new and then immediately putting it into practice that I've felt for a long time.

There are, of course, all manner of questions over whether Super Smash Bros. is balanced, whether it's "casual" and whether it's a "fighting game" by the traditional definition at all, since it's so different to your average one-on-one fighter such as the Street Fighter series. But its accessibility — no complicated button commands to learn here, allowing you to focus on using the moves effectively rather than struggling to use them at all — is its best feature, allowing rookie fighting game players to jump in and go toe-to-toe reasonably confidently against veterans. Sure, they'll almost certainly get obliterated — since despite how chaotic Super Smash Bros. looks for the most part, it's a very technical game that is almost frightening to watch high-level play of — but, unlike many other fighting games, it probably won't be for lack of knowledge of the mechanics. No special meters, no indecipherable jargon; all you really need to know is that you need to smack your opponents around a bit to increase their damage gauge, and the higher their damage gauge is, the further they'll fly when you whack 'em with a Smash move, with your ultimate aim being to knock or lure them off any side of the level.

I don't know if I'll ever be any good at Smash Bros., particularly compared to people who really know what they're doing with their favourite characters, but it's a fun time, and probably the fighting game series I've had the most fun with over the years.

But anyway. My original thinking that prompted this post was looking at the character select screen for my copy of Super Smash Bros., which includes the base game plus the DLC for Ryu and Cloud Strife, from Street Fighter and Final Fantasy VII respectively. Super Smash Bros. already has an incredibly diverse roster that draws from series ranging from Super Mario to Metroid via Star Fox and F-Zero, but the really interesting thing that started to happen in the last few installments is the addition of third-party, non-Nintendo characters, beginning with Solid Snake from the Metal Gear games a while back, and in the newer Wii U version, everything from Pac-Man to the aforementioned Ryu and Cloud.

Back when I was a kid playing Super Mario World on my Super NES at home, I would never have predicted that one day I'd be playing a game in which Mario, Sonic, Pac-Man, Cloud Strife, Ryu and the fucking dog from Duck Hunt all feature; it's kind of mind-blowing when you think about it, particularly if the horrible names Sega and Nintendo fans — including the press! — used to call each other are still fresh in your memory!

2159: Splattack

I spent a bit of time before my shift at work today playing Splatoon. Having finished the single player, I jumped back in to the multiplayer for a few games, and was reminded quite how much I like that game — a fact that surprised me somewhat when I first played it, given that I'm not normally one for competitive multiplayer shooters, team-based or otherwise.

Splatoon is a bit different from your usual multiplayer shooter, though, in that there are no game modes that require you to kill the other team. Instead, most of them are about territory control of various types: the basic "Turf War" game mode, for example, involves covering the ground with ink of your team's colour, with the winner being decided by majority coverage after three minutes. Other game modes found in the Ranked Battle mode vary somewhat in what they require you to do, but none of them are straight-up deathmatches, which means there's no necessity to be a 1337 MLG noscope pro.

Splatoon is testament to Nintendo's desire to make games accessible to everyone. Competitive multiplayer shooters are historically rather elitist in nature, with inexperienced players often being mercilessly mocked or picked on until they "git gud". Unpleasantness in chat — be it voice or text — is so expected that it's become something of a cliché to talk about racist thirteen-year olds playing Call of Duty; consequently there are many people — myself included — who, preferring their games to be fun rather than an unpleasant experience, avoid this type of thing and thus tend to miss out on games that, despite everything, are often quite culturally significant, not necessarily from an artistic perspective, but as an activity that brings significant numbers of people together.

Splatoon could have easily been a disastrous failure, being a Wii U game. Yet it has gone on to become one of Nintendo's biggest success stories all around the globe, with it rarely being difficult to find people to play with, whatever hour of the day you happen to be online. I was expecting it to be hard to get a full group together when I played this morning, for example, but was pleasantly surprised to be matched with a full team almost immediately — since Japan was awake and happily playing away already.

The other nice thing about Splatoon is that it doesn't have a chat function. Like, at all. This drew some criticism on its initial release, since it's sort of an expected feature in your typical multiplayer games these days, but in Splatoon's case it really isn't necessary or desirable. The GamePad screen allows you a tactical overview of the entire battlefield and what your team is up to, and simple controls allow you to send messages of support or requests for assistance to your teammates without having to speak. By taking away the chat facility, the ability to abuse one another is also taken away, keeping things family-friendly for everyone and encouraging veteran players to play nice with newbies, since if you're not being a team player you'll just end up dragging your teammates down and, in most cases, throwing the game as a result.

The other thing I particularly appreciate is that games are over quickly. No twenty-minute slugfests here; a single match is just three minutes long, meaning that even if you're stuck with a team of AFKers, you don't have to suffer for too long before things are mixed up and you can try again with some new companions. And since teams are jumbled up before each match, even if the same players stay together, it's rare to see unfair dominance from one side or another.

Above all, Splatoon is just plain fun. It's colourful, it's energetic, it's humorous and it's highly enjoyable — even if you don't typically like multiplayer shooters. I'd highly encourage you to jump on it even if it's not usually your sort of thing — you may just find yourself pleasantly surprised by how much fun you end up having.

2158: Farewell, Eorzea... For Now

I made a difficult decision today: to quit Final Fantasy XIV. Temporarily, at least.

This is a decision I've been mulling over for quite some time, I must admit, since following the initial excitement over the expansion pack Heavensward, the new content that's shown up since was 1) very, very late indeed and 2) not great. The one thing that had kept me clinging on was the good friends I've made while playing it, but I've come to the conclusion that with the state of endgame as it is now, it's just not fun enough to warrant the endless grind.

Before we go any further, I would like to point out that Final Fantasy XIV is still an excellent game, and its storyline through A Realm Reborn and Heavensward is one of the best Final Fantasies I've had the pleasure of playing over the years. Its battle system is great, its graphics are wonderful, its music is without peer and it has numerous memorable setpieces and boss fights that will doubtless stay with me for years afterwards.

The issue comes with endgame — what you do when you get to level 60, have no more experience points to gain, and hit the ceiling of available content. At this point most people do one of two things: level another class, or get on the gear treadmill to equip their "main" class as well as possible, either simply for the satisfaction of doing it, or with a mind to taking on the game's most challenging content such as raids.

The main trouble with Heavensward endgame as it exists today is that it's not all that different from A Realm Reborn's endgame, only with a fraction of the level cap content that A Realm Reborn had by the end of its cycle of patches. This may be an unfair comparison, but given that most people who played through Heavensward spent months or more at level 50 in A Realm Reborn, the shift back to having a very limited selection of meaningful content to play was somewhat jarring — particularly as people raced through Heavensward's main scenario and initial levelling process to 60 way quicker than they beat A Realm Reborn, despite them being comparable in length.

So what do you do in endgame? As previously mentioned, you gear up. This is primarily accomplished by collecting "tomestones" from running dungeons, daily roulettes and a couple of other sources. There's a weekly cap on one of the types of tomestones — the one that gets you some of the best equipment in the game currently — which means that it unavoidably takes several weeks, even months, to put together a complete armour and weaponry set for just one class, let alone multiple.

There are other means of acquiring gear, of course; the newly added Void Ark raid is designed to get people into better gear without grinding for tomestones by allowing them one piece of gear per week of comparable level to an unupgraded Tomestone piece. And The Diadem, the home to the exploration missions, can drop some seriously good equipment, though in that case it's very much left up to random chance.

Part of the problem with Heavensward's endgame right now is that the high-level raid — the most difficult thing in the game, and source of some of the best equipment — just isn't very interesting. A Realm Reborn's The Binding Coil of Bahamut was spectacular: it told its own story, had unique bosses and music, and was extremely rewarding to play through, particularly once its entire saga was completed and gave you an opportunity to fight A Realm Reborn's "true" final boss.

Alexander, the current level 60 raid, meanwhile, suffers for a number of reasons: firstly, its Normal mode incarnation, designed so those who aren't up to the challenges of raiding could enjoy its story, is far too easy and quite dull. And secondly, said story is not interesting at all, building on one of the more ridiculous side stories from A Realm Reborn rather than the world-shaking drama that Coil offered. For many people, clearing Coil wasn't about gear; it was about seeing a cool story through to its conclusion. And while Alexander has a story, it's not a patch on Coil's.

There's also the fact that Normal mode removes that incentive to progress that Coil had. The only way to see Coil's story was to beat Coil, whether you did that when it was fresh, new and extremely difficult, or when it got considerably nerfed (but was still a stiff challenge) months down the line. With Alexander, you can beat its Normal mode rather easily, even if you have no experience with raiding, and by then you've seen its whole story, meaning its Savage incarnation becomes little more than a more difficult version of exactly the same thing.

This is my main problem, but there's a number of other issues that have been bugging me for a little while too. I was really looking forward to the exploration missions, since they sounded like something new and interesting, but they turned out to be glorified Hunts, and Hunts are rubbish, since all they are is 300 people dogpiling a monster designed to be fought by 8 people, closely followed by at least 150 more people whining in /shout about someone "pulling early". Diadem at least limits the chaos to 72 players at once, but there's no "exploration" going on; within hours of it appearing for the first time, people had already figured out the most "efficient" way of getting the best rewards, which involves standing in one place and fighting the same damage sponge enemies over and over again until some slightly stronger damage sponge enemies show up and hopefully drop some slightly better loot. There was a "loot whore" angle to Diadem that showed promise, but in practice, with the way Final Fantasy XIV is designed in terms of stats, it's not really a concept that works within the game's overall framework.

Perhaps the thing I've found most offputting, though, is the changing attitudes of a lot of the playerbase. I recall complimenting Final Fantasy XIV's community when it first launched for being incredibly friendly and helpful to one another, sharing information and tips with newcomers and cooperating to make the virtual world of Eorzea a better place for everyone. Over time, this appears to have dissipated somewhat, to be replaced with a bevy of whiny players who insult you if you don't speedrun a dungeon, and people who constantly run damage parsers in the background just so they can post screenshots on Twitter and bitch about how awful the Bard they just ran Brayflox with was. The unfortunate elitist attitude of a lot of these players drives off newcomers and makes them afraid to make mistakes, which in turn puts people off trying more difficult content, which ultimately only hurts the high-level players, who can often be found in Party Finder bitching about not having anyone to clear Alexander Savage with.

I'm not sure why this shift in attitude happened, or if it's always been there and I just hadn't been aware of it. I know that a lot of Final Fantasy XIV players that I follow on Twitter seem to have changed for the worse, though, preferring to post screenshots of bad parses and arguments in party chat rather than celebrating their victories.

There's part of the trouble, though, I think; there's not that many victories to celebrate for veteran players any more. Even victory over a floor of Alexander Savage feels somewhat hollow, because everyone doing Savage will have already beaten all those bosses in Normal mode. "I beat The Manipulator" doesn't have the same gravitas to it as "I killed Bahamut!", after all.

With the lack of new victories to celebrate, it's understandable that people might get jaded and want to complain about things. It's understandable that those who want to be challenged with new content would get frustrated and start to take it out on people who haven't been running Savage for several months, or who don't know how to beat Ravana Extreme. It's not particularly okay that these people do this, but it is at least understandable.

And I don't want to be one of those people, continuing to play a game that feels like work and complaining about it endlessly when I could, instead, be doing something more fun — exploring new worlds in other RPGs, or catching up on my backlog, or enjoying some retro classics for the nth time.

Final Fantasy XIV will always be special to me. It's a virtual world that I've spent a good proportion of the last few years in. I made some great friends while playing, all of whom I sincerely hope will continue to be friends outside the game — something I'm confident about, since we all hung out together at PAX and didn't kill each other. And it was the setting for my proposal to my wife. So although my criticisms above may sound harsh, they're entirely personal, and I certainly do not and never will hate the game at all. It's simply time to take a break from it — perhaps indefinitely, or perhaps just temporarily.

Either way, thanks, Eorzea, Square Enix and Yoshi-P; it's been a wild and magical ride for the last few years, and I'm never going to forget it.

2157: Enemy Unknown

On something of a whim, I decided to fire up XCOM: Enemy Unknown this evening: a game that I have owned since 2013 and never even installed, let alone played. (Damn Steam sales.)

Regular readers will know that I'm quite a fan of the board game of this, with its interesting blend of cooperative action and real-time strategising overseen by an app that acts as both timer and gamemaster. The original video game it's based on is a somewhat different experience, but having finally played it a bit today, it's clear that the board game very accurately captures the atmosphere and overall "feel" of the source material.

For those unfamiliar, XCOM: Enemy Unknown is a remake of a much older PC game called UFO: Enemy Unknown, in which the player was tasked with overseeing the top-secret XCOM organisation in its attempts to repel an alien invasion of Earth. Rather than being a linear story-based affair, both UFO: Enemy Unknown and XCOM: Enemy Unknown are somewhat more freeform strategic affairs in which you're tasked with making the tough decisions as you go along — and dealing with the consequences of those decisions.

XCOM: Enemy Unknown is immediately more accessible than its much earlier counterpart, however. Since it was designed to be playable on console with a controller as well as with mouse and keyboard, the interface is simple, intuitive and easy to use with either control scheme. It also kicks off your first game with a selection of cutscenes and story missions introducing you to the various aspects of gameplay, which is a good way to ease you into what you should be doing. Over time, the game gradually stops holding your hand until you're running the whole operation, prioritising tasks as you see fit until Earth is either overrun by the aliens, or you successfully complete the final mission and humanity lives to survive another day.

Despite its new-found accessibility, XCOM: Enemy Unknown remains remarkably true to the formula set by its predecessor. You survey the world — initially a small area, but your coverage expands as you send more satellites into orbit — and respond to alien activity, be it UFO sightings, abductions or news of important people who might be able to help your war effort. Should a situation come up that requires the direct intervention of XCOM, the game switches to a tactical turn-based strategy game, in which you take a small squad of soldiers into battle against the alien menace.

Being a Firaxis game — they're the folks who made Civilization, for those who don't know their strategy classics — XCOM: Enemy Unknown is a game that expands in scope as you progress. Your squad members level up and learn new skills, allowing you to specialise them into various roles. Your research branches off in a number of different directions, allowing you to produce new equipment and items. You build up your base with new facilities to boost your overall capabilities. And along the way you need to make sure to keep the mysterious "Council" happy along with ensuring that the various regions of the world don't fall into panic.

The game is set up in such a way that you can't do everything. When alien abductions are reported, inevitably they're in several places at once, and you can only make it to one of the sites in time. The region you assist will reward you; the regions you leave to suffer will start to panic more at the horrible things happening to them.

The board game reflects all this really well with its inherent scarcity of resources. You never quite have enough soldiers or Interceptors to deal with all the shit that is happening in the world at once, so inevitably as you play through the game, various regions will start to panic more and more. It's essential to manage that as best you can; you can't prevent panic from mounting, but you can do your best to try and control it, and to prioritise tasks that will help you keep everything under control.

I'm interested to continue playing XCOM: Enemy Unknown, though. I'm playing on the Easy difficulty at the moment because I'm generally absolute crap at strategy games — particularly those by Firaxis — but I'm open to the idea of another playthrough on a harder difficulty if I make it to the end. So far it seems like an exciting and challenging but accessible strategy game, and I'm keen to check it out some more in the very near future.