1751: Speaking in Tongues

My Final Fantasy XIV Free Company was afflicted with something that seems to come to all MMORPG guilds at one point or another recently: that which is colloquially referred to as "drama".

Ultimately, the drama itself wasn't particularly serious — no-one was hurt and no damage was done, though arguably an ill-thought-out prank by an outgoing member was not the best means of handling the situation — but what I found interesting was the discussions that followed it up.

Essentially, the conclusion that many of us came to is that communication is important. It may sound like a simple piece of advice — common sense, obvious, even — but it's so easy to forget, even in an inherently social situation like a massively multiplayer online game. In a Free Company the size of ours, it's inevitable that cliques form, friendships blossom and smaller subgroups start doing things together. That's the natural way of things, and it's not necessarily a bad thing at all. That is, until it starts having a negative impact on the group as a whole for whatever reason — perhaps some members see these smaller subgroups as somewhat exclusionary; perhaps the subgroups find it difficult to relate to other people; perhaps everyone could just stand to be a bit more open and honest with one another.

There were a number of contributing factors in this instance that I won't bore you with now, but suffice to say that a lack of communication was the root cause of the issues we suffered. And, positively, said lack of communication was correctly identified quickly as the root cause of these issues, and people have been making determined efforts to try and make things right. Although the initial "drama" wasn't particularly pleasant or fun to witness, it turns out it ultimately had a positive impact; people are talking more, cooperating more and doing more things together. Plans have been put in place for more organised cooperation on the more difficult things the game has to offer, and people are just generally being more helpful and pleasant towards one another.

It's testament to the overall quality of people we have in the Free Company as a whole that the active members — many of whom could be argued to be implicated in the whole exclusivity/lack of communication thing — have taken this stuff happening on the chin, haven't got angry and upset and have done something positive from it: they've learned from it, identified things that we can do better and differently for one another, and ultimately the Free Company will hopefully be a far more pleasant place overall as a result.

Me, I'm mostly just glad it all seems to be over and done with for now. I hate to see friends fighting with one another, or — in this case — just misunderstanding one another. It's a great pity that the situation led us to lose a few Free Company members who had been with us since the beginning — and people I enjoyed playing with, moreover — but these things happen, and ultimately we'll be a stronger group as a result.

Now let's all just enjoy the game!

1749: Distant Worlds

Tonight Andie and I (along with her sister Michelle and Michelle's boyfriend Rob) took a trip up to London for the Distant Worlds concert at the Royal Albert Hall.

For the uninitiated, Distant Worlds is a series of concerts that has been running for the last seven years or so on the international circuit, celebrating the music of the Final Fantasy series through a multimedia presentation of live orchestral arrangements of iconic tracks from the various games accompanied by relevant game and cutscene footage. It's a similar sort of affair to the Video Games Live series which I had the pleasure of seeing live a few years back: it combines the formality of an orchestral concert in a world-renowned venue with the energy, enthusiasm and passion of an event that is very much "for the fans".

And for Final Fantasy fans, most of whom feel a strong connection with the series' music — although the games have long been regarded as some of the most visually impressive titles in their respective generations, it's the music that has arguably proven the most enduring, enjoyable element of each installment — it was a dream come true, taking in music from a pleasantly wide selection of games including Final Fantasy VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XIII and XIV.

I was particularly pleased to hear Answers, the wonderfully sweeping main theme from Final Fantasy XIV. The performance of it was very strong, with the live voice choir, orchestra and soloist (whose name escapes me at present) all doing a spectacular job at belting out what is already a very powerful piece of music.

One thing struck me as I watched, listened and let the experience wash over me: ultimately none of the perpetual drama of the games industry, with its fragile egos, professional victims and merciless trolls, matters in the slightest. What does matter is that there are talented groups putting out wonderful works of art that bring people together — in this case, enough people to fill the rather large Albert Hall to capacity and then some.

The cheers that went up as favourite games and songs were mentioned; the standing ovation at the end; the possibly slightly inebriated Northern gentleman who bellowed "I LOVE YOU!" at a delighted-looking Nobuo Uematsu who had just taken the stage — all of these things combined to make a wonderfully memorable experience that made me happy to be a gamer; happy to be a Final Fantasy fan; happy to be part of something bigger than me; happy to be far, far away from the rest of the Internet in my very own Distant World.

A great night all round then, capped off nicely by the fact that Andie and I had the welcome opportunity to quickly meet up with one of our FFXIV guildies beforehand; unfortunately we didn't get a lot of time together and he wasn't able to get a last-minute ticket to the concert, but I got my promised bro-hug at least. Thanks for not being a chainsaw-wielding psychopath, Cyra.

Anyway, it's ridiculously late and I need to sleep. Comic strip will be back tomorrow; for now, naps beckon.

1746: Tomestones of Poetics

Andie and I have had more of a chance to delve into Final Fantasy XIV's latest patch Dreams of Ice today, and I've now had the chance to jump in to most of the new pieces of playable content, with the exception of the Final Coil of Bahamut (which is still a way off yet) and the Extreme difficulty version of the fight against iconic Final Fantasy character — or the Final Fantasy XIV incarnation of her, anyway — Shiva.

The first couple of days after a patch drops are an exciting, enjoyable time to be playing, because most people who are online at the same time as you are in a similar situation to you — they're learning new fights without any foreknowledge of what is to come, and with the fact that guides for these new fights tend not to crop up until a week or two after the actual patch drops, you have little option but to either try and figure things out for yourself or trust the word of the people you're playing with. It's a lot of fun, puts everyone on a much more level playing field than later in a patch's lifecycle, and leads to a certain degree of camaraderie as everyone comes together to work out the best ways to take things on.

After two days, we have a few bits and pieces figured out.

We know that the first boss in Sastasha (Hard) has a very powerful attack that hits anyone except the tank, and this can be stunned — though like most enemies in Final Fantasy XIV, it builds up a gradual resistance to Stun if you keep doing it over and over. Instead, it's important that the healers ensure no-one is afflicted with the "Slime" status effect when this attack comes, as although the attack is powerful, it will never kill you outright; the damage over time from Slime, however, may well finish you off after one of these almost-deadly blows.

We know that the second boss in Sastasha (Hard) is sometimes bugged, but that you can proceed through the fight even if it seems to have frozen up by stopping your attack for a moment.

We have no idea how the final boss in Sastasha (Hard) works, but it seems that killing all the Kraken's arms prevents it from summoning deadly waterspouts, while keeping out of reach of its tentacles allows you to pelt its head with impunity.

The Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) likewise has three interesting bosses. The first is a multi-part boss who seems to go down quickly if you kill his parts in a certain order, ending with the head. He has a habit of summoning nasty quicksand traps for you to be dragged under.

The second Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) boss features regular DPS checks, any time it starts casting 100,000 Needles (which actually only does 25,000 damage, disappointingly, but this is still enough to kill even the most well-geared tank). Throughout the fight, he has friends pop up, some of which are simple cannon fodder, one of which is aggro-locked to a random player — often the healer from the look of things — and another of which covers the main boss, protecting it from damage.

The third Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) boss is relatively simple mechanics-wise, but enjoyable to play. Essentially you're playing Waves mode from Geometry Wars 2, avoiding occasional sweeping waves of mummies that run across the battlefield, cursing you if they touch you, while simultaneously trying to batter the boss down to size. Later in the fight, you also have to contend with a line-of-sight attack which also inflicts the curse status on you — get four stacks of this and you temporarily turn into a mummy, running diagonally across the field and potentially afflicting your allies with the curse in the process if they don't get out of the way.

Snowcloak, meanwhile, is unusual in that it's actually part of the main story for once — most of the other level 50 dungeons have been unlocked through sidequests. Snowcloak is a part of the main narrative, however, but it still works in much the same way, and again has three interesting bosses to power through, as well as some enjoyable "enemy gauntlets" to fight through.

The first fight in Snowcloak is relatively easy. Like the final boss of Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard), you're trying to avoid getting four stacks of a debuff on you — though in this case, it freezes you for a few seconds rather than turning you into a mummy.

The second fight in Snowcloak is becoming known as "Yeti Billiards" because it involves freezing Spriggan adds in the boss' area-effect attack, then hitting the snowballs this creates back into the boss. Freeze the same snowball more than once and it will grow in size, causing it to deal considerably more damage when it hits the boss.

The third fight in Snowcloak is actually pretty straightforward. You simply have to avoid icicles falling on your head, then spot the two that are going to shoot across the battlefield, injuring anyone in their path, then hide behind the third one before the boss does his group-wide Lunar Cry move, which freezes anyone it has line-of-sight with. There's a lot of moving around, and it's a lot of fun — if a little easy once you know what you're doing.

All this isn't even getting onto the utterly ridiculous but hugely enjoyable fight against Final Fantasy VI characters Ultros and Typhon, or the conflict against Shiva. There's been a lot to discover over the last few days, and people are still learning. It's a fun time to be playing; over time it will settle down into more of a "routine" like in previous patches, but for now, it's one of those times that, for the most part, tends to show the community at its best, most cooperative and most helpful towards one another.

1745: Dreams of Ice

Andie and I journeyed all the way back from Aberdeen to Southampton today — a trip that took somewhere in the region of 11 hours altogether. I offered to drive some of the way, but Andie decided that she would be just as comfortable driving as she would be in the passenger seat, so I was relegated to the position of passenger and entertainment-chooser. (We have plumbed the very depths of everything the BBC Radio iPlayer catalogue has to offer.)

We were both quite keen to get back today due to the release of Final Fantasy XIV's fourth major patch, dubbed Dreams of Ice. This is the penultimate big patch in the series before the full-scale expansion drops next year, and as such the main storyline is starting to build to a climax. Alongside that, one of the principal "side stories" — that of the super-difficult endgame dungeons The Binding Coil of Bahamut — finally comes to an end in this patch, so the most dedicated of raiders can take on what is effectively the game's "true final boss" with their friends. Meanwhile, there is plenty of other stuff to keep slightly less hardcore players occupied.

I haven't done everything yet, not by a long shot, and I wasn't expecting to in the space of a few hours this evening. I have, however, had the opportunity to check out two of the new dungeons — Snowcloak and The Sunken Temple of Qarn (Hard) — and play through roughly half of the new episode of the main storyline. I haven't yet taken on this patch's "big fight" against ice queen Shiva, but that's coming up, and since my friends and I are yet to clear the Second Coil of Bahamut, the Final Coil of Bahamut is probably some weeks or even months away yet.

There's plenty of new stuff to get stuck into, though, and once the initial excitement of brand-new content has worn off in a few days, there's a lot of gear to set my sights on. The addition of a new endgame currency (and the retirement of one) has led to a new "tier" of equipment being added to the game, and I'm looking forward to seeing the impact that has on the already spectacular amount of damage that my Black Mage puts out without breaking a sweat. I'm also intending on gearing up my Paladin a decent amount, too, because 1) it's already catching up with Black Mage and 2) I'm really enjoying the tanking I've been doing. With our regular group seemingly putting me in one of the tank roles for the Second Coil of Bahamut, it will probably pay to have some better gear, too, anyway.

But now it is 2:45am and I am very tired. Both Andie and I rallied a bit once we got home and started playing, but now I am abundantly ready to go to sleep and hopefully wake up rather late and reasonably refreshed tomorrow. I have the rest of the week off, so I intend to enjoy it fully by bumming around not doing very much at all except playing Final Fantasy XIV. No change there then, huh?

1742: Reaping Rafflesia

You may recall a short while ago I talked a little about Turn 5 of the Binding Coil of Bahamut in Final Fantasy XIV, notorious as being one of the most difficult battles in the game and essentially, if you want to look at it that way, the "true final boss" of the game as it existed at launch.

Since clearing that a few times, we've managed to get a regular group together to take on the Second Coil of Bahamut, a four-part dungeon that follows on from the original Binding Coil — and which is soon to be superceded by The Final Coil of Bahamut, bringing this particular side story to a close in suitably climactic fashion with patch 2.4.

We're by no means ready for the Final Coil of Bahamut yet — mainly because you have to clear Second Coil in order to even enter Final Coil — but we've been discovering the joy of having a regular, committed and enthusiastic group together to take on challenging fights.

The first Turn of the Second Coil of Bahamut (known in FFXIV vernacular as "Turn 6" or "T6", since it's the sixth overall part of the Coil storyline) is deceptively simple, much like the other Coil confrontations. You begin by making your way across some perilous terrain and fending off the unwanted advances of golems that spawn from chunks of dark matter and corrupted crystals. Having fought your way past these — destroying the crystals on the way — you find yourself in front of a fragment of Dalamud, the moon that fell from the sky at the end of Final Fantasy XIV's version 1.0 incarnation (and, by extension, the beginning of A Realm Reborn) and burst open to reveal the elder primal Bahamut. Over the course of the first Binding Coil of Bahamut, you come to discover some interesting bits and pieces about what Dalamud really was, why Bahamut was inside it and, indeed, what happened to it following the apocalyptic "end of the world" that appeared to happen at the conclusion of 1.0. Second Coil is elsewhere in the lands of Eorzea, and promises to offer further insights into the truth — but, of course, it's not that easy.

Your main obstacle towards even getting inside the damn place is an unpleasant little thing called Rafflesia, a plant from the Gridanian Twelveswood that has been corrupted by dark matter and which now appears to be a tad on the pissed off side. You ain't getting inside the Dalamud fragment without getting past Rafflesia, and thus begins another extremely challenging battle that our group is yet to clear — but which we've made significant progress on in our two attempts to date.

Like the previous encounters in the various Turns of the Coil, the battle against Rafflesia initially appears to be extremely complex and insurmountably difficult, but in reality it's all about being organised, communicating effectively and knowing how to deal with the various situations in which you find yourself.

Shortly after the fight begins, Rafflesia whips two party members with thorny vines, which attaches them together and continues to do damage as long as they remain joined. The only escape from this spiky fate is to run in opposite directions until the vine is snapped.

The plant monster then goes on to spawn dark matter bulbs, deadly seedlings that sprout into spiky briar patches that slow the movement of anyone unfortunate enough to step into them. A key part of this battle comes in the management of these briar patches; our attempts involved keeping Rafflesia as central as possible and only worrying about bulbs if they appeared where Rafflesia was. This occasionally demands that you dance around a little to make sure you're not standing in thorns, but it does allow you to concentrate on what you're really there for — punching/stabbing/burning/chopping a plant monster to death.

Rafflesia is a hungry beast, though, and every so often a party member will find themselves the target of the monster's appetite. She'll suck in everything in front of her, then devour it before spitting it out again; ideally, by the time she's doing the first thing, you're well out of the way, ensuring that the second and third things don't happen to you.

Rafflesia, being a plant, also has numerous unpleasant spores and gases designed for the obliteration of unsuspecting adventuring parties. Most deadly among these is her Blighted Bouquet, a devastating move which causes immediate death to anyone unfortunate enough to have been doing anything — moving, attacking, using an ability — when it goes off. She's also fond of glazing a party member in honey, which causes dark matter-corrupted hornets to come in and give the unfortunate adventurer some unwanted attention — and eventual death, if they're not defeated, too.

So far, we're yet to defeat Rafflesia; her Blighted Bouquet and dark matter hornets have proven particularly troublesome to deal with, but we've made honest-to-goodness progress in the two sessions of about 2.5-3 hours each that we've had to take on the fight to date. Along the way, we've come to work well together as a party, too, and the desire is there from all of us to continue the fight against Rafflesia, onwards into the fragment of Dalamud and, eventually, into the Final Coil of Bahamut to discover the truth behind the Calamity. (And, of course, to get some sweet loot in the process, too.)

I've been really enjoying our sessions so far; as I've noted before, Final Fantasy XIV is the first MMO that not only maintained my attention from beginning to level cap, but which has kept me interested with its endgame, too. Second Coil is, as of now, the most challenging dungeon in the game — though this will change on Tuesday when Final Coil arrives — and it's a pleasure to be able to take on these tough encounters with a group of people who are becoming not just online comrades, but friends, too.

1741: Shareware

I was interested and excited earlier to hear that 3D Realms had come out of sort-of-retirement to unleash a pretty spectacular package onto the world: an anthology containing a fantastic selection of its games from over the years, going right back to its early days as Apogee — a time when men were men, women were women and PC games ran in four-colour CGA.

I probably don't have to tell you that I didn't hesitate to hand over the $20 for the complete collection of 32 games — many of these games were fixtures on my home PC while I was growing up, and even more of them were titles that I never got around to playing at the time for whatever reason. A surprising number of them hold up pretty well today, more to the point, and with the Anthology package updating them to run just peachy on modern Windows systems as well as providing rudimentary controller support, it's a great time to rediscover these great games.

Of the 32 games, I had heard of most of them — though a couple, like Arctic Adventure and Pharaoh's Tomb, were new ones on me. I'd played a decent number of them, too; particular favourites from the past included the Commander Keen games, Raptor: Call of the Shadows, Shadow Warrior and, of course, Duke Nukem 3D. I'm pleased that the collection offers the opportunity to rediscover somewhat lesser-known titles like Bio Menace and Terminal Velocity, too; both of these were games that I only ever played the limited shareware versions of "back in the day" and was always curious to see how they developed in their full, registered versions. This being the mostly pre-Internet days, however, it wasn't as simple as just clicking "buy" on a game and having it on your computer moments later.

I really liked the shareware model, and I'm actually surprised it's not used as much these days, since the Internet would seem to provide an ideal delivery medium for this sort of thing. For those unfamiliar, a shareware game could be distributed for free, and generally provided a full and satisfying game experience in its own right. It would usually only form the first "episode" of a fuller experience, however, and to see how the story concluded — or simply have the opportunity to acquire new weapons and fight new enemies — you'd have to pony up the cash for the full, or "registered" version. In some cases, you had the option to purchase some of the game instead of all of it — Wolfenstein 3D, for example, featured six episodes, the first of which was free, the second and third could be purchased as a bundle, and the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes could be purchased as a separate bundle. Or, of course, you could buy the whole lot in one go.

The closest equivalent we have these days is, I think, the "episodic" games that companies like Telltale put out, but they're not quite the same; although there are sometimes special offers or even giveaways of the first episode, the game isn't built around the assumption that the first episode is not only free, but also freely distributable. That "share" part was important — you were actively encouraged to share the free episode with family and friends, and in that way these games built up a very early means of viral popularity, without the Internet to support it. Kids were already illegally copying games and sharing them with one another in the playground, after all; all shareware was doing was legitimising this to a certain extent — though I don't doubt that a few dodgy copies of registered versions probably did the rounds, too.

Sony sounds like it's trying some interesting "sharing" functionality with the PlayStation 4, but it's still not quite the same. Perhaps I'm just being nostalgic and looking back on it with rose-tinted glasses, but I do know one thing for sure: I have very fond memories of a lot of these games, and a surprising number of them still hold up very well today.

If you'd like to try them out for yourself, you can grab a copy of the complete Anthology here, or download and purchase some of the games individually if you prefer.

1738: Aces High

After I beat Ace Combat 4 a few days ago — spectacular, incidentally; a game that still holds up marvellously well today, even on a big-screen HDTV — I moved pretty much straight on to its sequel Ace Combat 5, or Ace Combat: Squadron Leader as it is inexplicably known over here in Europe.

While superficially similar, Ace Combat 5 is definitely a more refined package on more fronts, though both games remain well worth playing in their own right.

To clarify: Ace Combat 4 had an interesting, unconventionally told narrative and gameplay that, more often than not, boiled down to "score [x] number of points before time expires", with the odd break for "destroy all the marked targets before time expires". This is a huge simplification, of course, because it was the context in which these missions took place that made Ace Combat 4 interesting rather than the actual mission objectives themselves.

Ace Combat 5 mixes things up a bit by having a wider variety of mission objectives. 17 missions in, and I've only just had a "score [x] number of points before time expires" mission; prior to that, I've had everything from "capital ship" battles against submarines to air support missions flying cover for an aircraft carrier escaping a besieged city, and one particularly memorable (if challenging) mission where you had to locate a downed member of your squadron, then support the rescue helicopter as it came in to pick her up.

Ace Combat 5 also tells its story in a different manner to its predecessor. While Ace Combat 4 framed its narrative as a letter written from someone who knew the primary antagonist to you, the player, Ace Combat 5 tells a more "present-day" tale about the jet fighter squadron which you're a member of. Like Ace Combat 4, you gradually become known as a legendary pilot that enemy forces speak of in hushed tones, but there's a lot more humbleness and humility about it this time around; there's a strong emphasis on questioning the actions you're being asked to take in the war, and whether what you're doing is really justified. It makes for some compelling drama both during and between missions, and it's a big part of what makes the game so interesting.

Flying and fighting is an absolute joy, though, and that's what really matters here. Each plane feels noticeably different from the others — though all kind of throw realism out of the window in the name of fun — and all have their own strengths and weaknesses. The different weapons you'll be flinging around all have their own little quirks and idiosyncrasies, too, and it's interesting to gradually learn which plane (and attached special weapon) is most appropriate for which situation. Plus there's a fun little "levelling" system whereby scoring enough kills with a particular type of plane unlocks better variants in that family tree — you can gradually upgrade from the F-15C Eagle to the F-15E Strike Eagle, for example, and you can do this for an impressively wide selection of real-life planes.

I'm impressed quite how good the game looks, too. It features native 16:9 support, for one thing — something you couldn't rely on in the PS2 era, even with widescreen televisions becoming more widespread — but its visuals lack that muddiness that many PS2 titles often have when viewed on an HDTV. It's not pin-sharp, no, but it looks good — and my goodness, does it ever move smoothly, maintaining a solid 60fps at all times, even when all manner of scary shit is going on around you.

I think it's safe to say that I'm pretty smitten with this series. And, as I think I've said previously, I'm sorry I didn't have the opportunity to try it out when it first came along.

1735: Thal's Balls

Been watching some of the live online coverage of FanFest today — that's the Final Fantasy XIV Fan Festival, if you're unfamiliar.

The concept of a whole, large-scale event dedicated to a single video game may seem like an alien concept to some of you, particularly if you're more accustomed to events like E3 and EGX where hundreds upon hundreds of games are all vying for the press and public's respective attention. But with something like Final Fantasy XIV — which boasts somewhere in the region of 2.5 million players — it's understandable, particularly as the game is entering an exciting period.

This coming week or the next will see the release of the game's 2.4 patch Dreams of Ice, which is likely going to be the penultimate episode of the Final Fantasy XIV base game. We've already started seeing teasers for what the grand finale of the 2.X storyline will be, and doubtless Dreams of Ice will continue in that direction, taking in a spectacular-looking confrontation with Shiva along the way. Patch 2.5, which should follow along in about three months or so, looks set to provide a suitably epic conclusion to this story, and set things up nicely for the expansion Heavensward, which is coming in Spring 2015.

Aside from continuing the main storyline, Dreams of Ice will also wrap up the narrative surrounding the super-challenging endgame dungeons The Binding Coil of Bahamut, The Second Coil of Bahamut and, soon, The Final Coil of Bahamut. Those with the raiding chops to take on the challenges within will be rewarded with the truth behind the Calamity that befell Eorzea five years ago — and what's really going on with Bahamut. Is he going to wake up again and lay waste to the land, or…?

One of the interesting things about FanFest has been the panels, which have been broadcast live via Twitch, giving me my first reason ever to actually go to Twitch and watch something. And there have been some fascinating discussions, too; there was a great panel on the game's music earlier, and shortly before the time of writing there was a superb lore panel based around how the game's world is "written" and "built" — something that is a real strength of the game. Unusually for a largely Japanese game, much of the lore is contributed and composed by a Westerner (albeit one who grew up in Japan), and as such Final Fantasy XIV finds itself in a strong position to appeal to both Western and Eastern players. Its English localisation was so strong, in fact, runs the narrative, that Japanese players started to demand the same attention to detail, sense of humour and wit that runs through the English script, ultimately making all versions of the game into a superior experience. It was a heartwarming tale.

Mostly what FanFest has driven home is that Final Fantasy XIV is a truly global game, and that while it will likely never reach the same dizzy heights of World of Warcraft in its prime, it's in a very healthy position indeed — and that exciting times are ahead for those who make their second home in Eorzea. I'm looking forward to seeing what the future holds in the long term — but in the short term, there's this, at least:

1733: Bumper Crop

It's one of those times of year that there's seemingly hundreds (well, all right, that's an exaggeration) of great new games coming out, and relatively little time in which to play them all. That's not stopping me picking up the ones I'm interested in, mind, as I feel it's important to show your support to companies that are doing the right thing and releasing (or, in the case of most of the games I'm particularly interested in, localising) titles that other publishers might see as risky or too niche-interest to take a gamble on. (In actual fact, it's clearly not all that much of a gamble at all; if it were, I'm sure companies like NIS America, Xseed and Aksys, who bring these games from Japan to the West at an impressive rate, would have folded long ago.)

Just off the top of my head, games that have been recently released (or that are imminent) and that I am either in the process of playing or am interested in playing soon-ish include Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth1, Ar no Surge, Akiba's Trip, Freedom Wars, Danganronpa 2, Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus, Tears to Tiara 2 and doubtless several others I've forgotten. And this isn't even getting into the stuff that I've previously acquired and haven't touched yet, which includes stuff like Drakengard 3, Monster Monpiece and the numerous non-Rorona games in the Atelier series. Nor does it cover the Pile of Shame I have that extends back to the PS2 era — largely acquired through spotting bargains and through taking full advantage of UK video game retailer Game's misfortunes when it was struggling a while back.

I don't mind though; I'm building up a library of things to enjoy that will last for literally years at this rate, since a significant number of these titles are fairly lengthy affairs, many of which also reward multiple playthroughs. It's because of this huge stack of games that I don't feel at all bad about not having jumped on board the "next-gen" (PS4 and Xbox One) bandwagon as yet, since 1) there's nothing yet been released on either that I'm personally interested in playing (though a new Neptunia game is on the way to PS4, which will more than likely tip me over the edge) and 2) I like to finish my games — even if it takes a while.

I was talking about this latter point with a few people recently; the figures for people who actually beat games — now a lot easier to track in the age of achievements, which are essentially nothing more than metrics, after all — are depressingly low, and indeed, outside of very short games regarded as "must-play" experiences by popular opinion (things like Gone Home, The Stanley Parable and their ilk) it is, anecdotally speaking, quite rare for me to hear someone else talking about beating a game and what they thought of the ending. That doesn't mean people don't do it, of course, but with the pace of new releases these days I kind of feel like it's probably getting rarer as people feel pressured to play the latest and greatest thing simply to keep up with their peers.

I prefer a more leisurely pace, myself; it may take me weeks or months to plough through a lengthy RPG, but I enjoy myself a lot more in the process. Since the only multiplayer title I play is Final Fantasy XIV, which is a "constant" rather than something more seasonal like the latest first-person shooter release, I don't feel the pressure to be playing The Next Big Thing the moment it's released — and no longer being a member of the games press means that I don't have the responsibility to do so professionally either.

Consequently, I intend to spend the next few months playing the Ace Combat series — which I am now absolutely smitten with, incidentally — along with Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth1 and, as ever, Final Fantasy XIV. After that, who knows? I might move onto something new; I might decide it's time to tackle some of the older games in my collection. I have that freedom to do so, and it's nice.

1730: Distant Thunder

I've been playing a bunch of Ace Combat 4 (known variously as Shattered Skies or Distant Thunder depending on where in the world you are) and, frankly, I'm gobsmacked.

This is a game that came out in 2001 for the PlayStation 2, sporting visuals that are still reasonably impressive (albeit low-resolution) today, and which run at an absolutely rock-solid 60 frames per second without breaking a sweat.

More importantly, though, it's a game that manages to be utterly compelling, addictive and thrilling while treating the player with respect and, at the same time, telling an interesting story in a rather unusual manner.

Given what I've experienced of Ace Combat 4 to date, it's easy to see why Ace Combat veterans were a little miffed at Assault Horizon — though I maintain that was an enjoyable enough game in its own right.

Ace Combat 4 is a lot more distinctive than Assault Horizon, though. While the newer game is clad in that unmistakeable "triple-A veneer" that makes a lot of modern games look gorgeous but lack a clearly defined visual identity compared to their contemporaries, Ace Combat 4 is immediately recognisable (although some may argue its interface takes more than a few cues from Metal Gear Solid).

At heart, it's a solid jet fighter sim that throws the odd bit of realism out of the window in the name of fun. Your plane carries an implausibly huge stock of missiles, for example, which is useful, because you'll find yourself shooting down an awful lot of planes and blowing up an awful lot of ground targets in each mission. You can't just fire them off willy-nilly, however — well, maybe you can at ground targets — since enemies will dodge and evade missiles, just like you can. To get a solid lock, you need to manoeuvre carefully behind an enemy and keep them in your sites as you fire off the missiles — and, unlike Assault Horizon with its Dogfight Mode, you have to do this manually rather than pressing a button to do so. It's a lot more challenging, but also a lot more satisfying, too.

The missions are far less scripted than Assault Horizon, too — though that's not to say they don't have interesting things going on. Throughout the first part of the game, you're often under threat from the enemy forces' superweapon Stonehenge, for example, and when you're warned it's about to fire you'd better make sure you're hugging the ground if you don't want to be blown to smithereens. In one particularly memorable mission, you have to fly back to your base while Stonehenge is firing at you, and the only means of getting low enough to stay under its devastating blasts is to fly through a rather perilous canyon.

I'm impressed with the storytelling, too. The game runs two parallel storylines throughout its campaign — one presented in a rather faceless manner to the player, a la many flight and space sims over the years, and another much more personal tale from the perspective of a child living in an occupied city. As you progress through the campaign, the effects of your victories are mirrored in this parallel storyline, until in its later stages you're referred to more explicitly, particularly after the mission where you shoot down the primary sort-of-antagonist-but-not-really's wingman. I haven't yet finished the game, but the smart money is on an epic final confrontation between Mobius One (me) and Yellow Thirteen before the credits roll.

I've been having an absolute blast so far, then. I don't think I'm far off the end of the game, and I'm looking forward to seeing what its sequels have in store.

Now why didn't I discover this series thirteen years ago?