1547: Reading Steiner

A lengthy Steins;Gate session this evening coupled with a chat about Saya no Uta (aka Song of Saya, a game I haven't played but am looking forward to trying) with my friend Mark has reminded me both how and why I love the visual novel medium.

I use the word "medium" when referring to visual novels rather than "genre" because in many cases, it's not entirely accurate to call them "games", despite the fact that they tend to be festooned in the trappings of video games. Most tend to include some sort of metagame element, be it a simple checklist of endings, a CG gallery with a completion percentage or, in the case of more complex games like Steins;Gate, even achievements. Most of them are presented in a distinctly game-like fashion, with console-style main menus that make pleasing noises when you click on them, colourful but clear text boxes with a little spinny thing in the corner that tells you when you've reached the end of the current paragraph, and all manner of other things.

And yet they're not games. Not really. They're interactive stories — some having no more than one or two meaningful choices over the course of the entire narrative, and some even eschewing the element of choice whatsoever — that make use of multimedia presentation to distinguish themselves from, you know, reading a book. The combination of static background images, static or lightly animated characters, music, voice acting, sound effects and text all combine to create a very distinctive effect — and one that can be a powerful poke to the imagination.

Books, of course, are the poster childs for stoking the fires of the imagination, but visual novels also do this, albeit in a different way. Whereas in a book it's left largely up to you how you picture the scene unfolding in front of you, in visual novels you tend to get a bit more in the way of audio-visual cues. You can hear the characters' voices (at least you can in recent releases; earlier VNs were text-only), you can see the characters, you can hear the music giving you an idea of the overall mood and, if the scene is a particularly important one, there'll be an "event" image depicting a dramatic moment from whatever is happening.

Far from being an inferior means of stirring the imagination, this approach works in a different way. While books provide the stimulus for mental pictures through descriptive text, visual novels simply use their multimedia element to do so, which allows them to cut back a little on the descriptive text and instead explore the protagonist's innermost thoughts, or engage in some snappy dialogue between characters.

Visual novels present a particularly good means of expressing a first-person narrative. While in first-person perspective books you tend to feel like you're just along for the ride, in visual novels it feels like you're taking a much more active role — even if your influence on the overall story is minimal. You're sitting inside the main character's mind looking out through their eyes and listening to their innermost thoughts — and even if the main character is some sort of awful jerk (as they often are in visual novels) this provides a very good means of exploring that character, why they are an awful jerk and how they may or may not go about changing themselves. Character growth! How about that.

This isn't to say visual novels have to be confined to first-person narratives, however. No; in fact, it can be very effective for a visual novel to "cut away" to another character, or even a complete shift in perspective to third-person. Nitroplus' visual novel Deus Machina Demonbane is a particularly good example of this being used effectively; during its first-person sections, it's something of a film noir tale about a down-on-his-luck detective and how he becomes embroiled in a series of increasingly ridiculous events. During its third-person sections, however, the true scale of what Kujou is involved in becomes apparent thanks to being able to get an overall picture of what is going on — coupled with the authentically overblown and distinctly Lovecraftian narration that accompanies these scenes.

Steins;Gate, also from Nitroplus, is a little more traditional than Demonbane in that it remains firmly stuck inside the protagonist's mind, but my gosh what an interesting head to be stuck inside, for Rintaro Okabe is a strange individual indeed — seemingly convinced he's a mad scientist named Hououin Kyouma (which his voice actor bellows with admirable aplomb every time it comes up in the script) who is being pursued by "The Organisation", it's not entirely clear for a lot of the game whether Okabe genuinely has a screw loose or if he's just playing up for the people around him. The sheer ridiculousness of his statements would seem to suggest the latter, but then he does something so outrageous that you have to wonder about his mental state. And when Steins;Gate's overarching narrative threads start to get moving, things become even more murky.

The upshot of this is that Okabe becomes something of an unreliable narrator. And this is something that visual novels are particularly good at exploring. Saya no Uta is another particularly good example from what little I know of it, but there are countless others, too; when you're observing a narrative from a first-person perspective, after all, you're only getting one person's perspective on it — and how can you be sure that person is telling the truth?

That's the question, huh? Anyway. That's that for now. Check out Steins;Gate if you've got a yawning chasm in your life that can only be filled by utterly fascinating sci-fi; full review coming soon on USgamer.

1546: Gaze This Way

Been playing an unusual Vita game for review recently. Normally I wouldn't blog about games that I'm reviewing, but I already wrote a "first impressions" piece about the game over on USgamer a while back, so, well, these are some second impressions, I guess.

The game in question is Demon Gaze from Kadokawa Games, brought to the West by the ever-reliable NIS America. I didn't know a lot about this game prior to starting to play it save for the fact that it had upset a few people — as many Japanese games tend to — by featuring a selection of pretty anime-style girls with artwork that is occasionally on the suggestive side.

What I wasn't expecting from it was an old-school dungeon-crawler of the Wizardry mould, right down to creating your own party bit by bit as you can afford to, We're talking manually choosing race, class and appearance for your characters, then heading out into a grid-based dungeon to fight lots of monsters, solve some rudimentary puzzles and ultimately complete some quests.

What I also wasn't expecting was a rock-hard level of difficulty almost from the outset. Unlike in some other Japanese role-playing games, a level 1 character in Demon Gaze really is utter shit. Their stats are poor, their HP is low and it's very rare for them to have any useful abilities from their class. This makes life interesting when you can finally afford to recruit an additional party member and they have to start from this position of non-power while the rest of your adventuring brigade are happily chopping the heads off monsters left, right and centre. You have to take care of the newbie until they find their feet a bit, and then only let them step into the front lines when you're absolutely sure they can handle it.

Because this isn't a game that is afraid to kill you and dump you back at the title screen without any ceremony. Step into a fight you can't win and fail to get away quickly enough and there's no "retry" option, no fade-to-black-then-wake-up-back-at-the-inn, it's just Game Over. Reload. I hope you remembered to save every time you get back from an adventure because the game sure as hell isn't going to auto-save for you.

The other thing that is a bit of a culture shock is that the game doesn't hold your hand with regard to quests at all. "Go find this dude," the game will say. "Where are they?" you'll ponder. "Oh, you know," replies the game. "Out there. Somewhere. Come back when you find him." Cue plenty of enjoyable exploration and risk-taking as you search every nook and cranny to complete your objectives. Can the party survive trudging through that poisonous swamp? Only one way to find ou– oh, they're all dead.

In some senses, this old-school difficulty and unforgiving nature is going to put a lot of people off. But that's fine; titles like Dark Souls have proven there's a market for unforgiving games in which you have to take a bit more care than in many other modern titles, and Demon Gaze is seemingly designed along these lines. (That's not the only similarity, either; both Demon Gaze and the Souls series allow you to leave messages for other players that are then shared on the network, though the former lacks the latter's ability for true multiplayer.)

I'm a relatively short way into the game so far, but I'm really enjoying it. It's the sort of thing that feels like it could be a "long-term project" of a game; it's fairly light on the story side of things (though it does have some seriously adorable characters who often greet you and have their own silly little side-plots when you get back from an adventure) and surprisingly friendly to quick play sessions, making it an ideal handheld game for a bit of grinding on the bus or over lunch.

Full review coming towards the end of the month; for now, suffice to say, I like it a lot.

1544: Sick Notes

As I think I've mentioned a couple of times in the past, I keep a few copies of defunct UK games magazine PC Zone around as a reminder of some early forays into writing about games professionally. These '90s issues of the dead magazine feature nothing more exciting than a few walkthroughs by me, but it's the rest of them I find so fascinating to read with modern eyes.

What particularly caught my attention recently was a section called "Sick Notes". This was one of the many different things the magazine did with its last page before the back cover — over time, this included a regular column by "Mr Cursor", a look back on the month's gaming and what one of the editorial staff had been up to, and numerous other things.

Sick Notes was the brainchild of Charlie Brooker — yes, that Charlie Brooker — and was intended as a complement to the magazine's other letters pages. PC Zone at this point had several different "reader input" pages, including a traditional "letters to the editor" page, a "Watch Dogs" letters page where readers could write and complain about service they'd received from hardware and software manufacturers, and a "Troubleshooter" letters page where they could ask technical queries about PC problems.

Sick Notes, meanwhile, was marketed as "The Place to Write for Abuse" so you knew what you were getting when you wrote in — and you had to write specifically to Sick Notes. It certainly lived up to its name. Here's one memorable example that won the monthly £50 "Loser of the Month" prize, with Brooker's response in bold beneath.

I see that in issue 67 of your "magazine" you asked us to send in a game idea. How's this then: You start off in a primary school where all goes well and you please the teachers. You then progress to secondary education and achieve above average results and so decide to sit A-levels in your local college and finally, after four years in university, end up with an honours degree in English language and English literature.

AND THEN YOU END UP WRITING YOUR PATHETIC [swearword] PIECE OF [swearword] PAGE-FILLING SO-CALLED COLUMN.

Mark Richardson

There was a boy called Mark Richardson at my school. Everyone called him 'skids' because once, in the PE changing rooms, somebody noticed that he had huge brown skidmarks in his underpants. Not that this inability to tackle basic personal hygiene was restricted just to poor wiping skills. He smelled bad pretty much all the time. He was a mess. His face was permanently coated with a faintly shiny film of sweat and grime, his hair so caked in grease it recalled television footage of unfortunate seabirds in the aftermath of the Exxon Valdez oil slick. His clothing was dirty. To use the Whizzer and Chips terminology of the day, it 'ponged'.

But the worst thing about Skids was the way he picked his nose. He was always at it, plugging a finger in as far as he could, corkscrewing it around inside the nasal cavity, unhooking entire strata of half-dried mucus, drawing out measureless strings of oleaginous grey-green slime. Then he'd take them to his mouth, puckering his lips as if sampling some exotic delicacy. Skids devoured snot. He relished it. Guzzled it. Chewed it up and swallowed it whole, then painted his finger clean with his pink, stubby tongue. Made you sick just to watch him do that.

Anyway, sorry, what were you saying?

This was pretty much par for the course back around the time of PC Zone issue 70 (December 1998) but looking back on it now it's hard to believe that this existed. And don't worry, I'm not about to go off on a whole big "This Is Not Okay" social justice rant here; quite the opposite, in fact. I find it a bit sad that people who write for a living — usually for websites rather than magazines these days, though print is still hanging on in there — don't really have the freedom to express this side of themselves any more; the means for some much-needed stress relief, and for the readers to try their luck against one of the most notoriously acerbic wits in the business.

I mean, sure, these days we have the people who have made a name for themselves with strong opinion pieces — people like Ben Kuchera and Jim Sterling spring to mind immediately, and there are others, too — but it's not the same thing at all. Brooker didn't just blindly insult people in Sick Notes — though he always did so with carefully-considered barbs rather than mindless abuse on that page — he also wrote witty, creative, unconventional articles that were entertaining to read far ahead of fulfilling some sort of amorphous "obligation". And he wasn't alone, either; the writers of Zone, among them, did all sorts of things with even their most mundane articles, with particularly memorable examples including entire reviews written as movie scripts, a "Franglais" preview of Flashback follow-up Fade to Black written from the perspective of its protagonist Conrad Hart, and countless others I've doubtless forgotten.

What's my point? I'm not quite sure, really, but I think it's that people who wrote about games used to seem like they were having more fun with it. This isn't to say that there aren't great, entertaining writers out there whose work is a pleasure to read, but rather there seems to be something of an unspoken rule that things need to be taken very seriously these days. You've got to get that SEO; you've got to get those clicks; you've got to capitalise on the popular things of the time; you've got to be seen to be criticising the things other people are criticising.

Cynical? Perhaps, but it's why things like Goat Simulator feel so obnoxiously forced; what should be a silly little game that people stumble across organically and then tell their friends about has become something heavily promoted and treated with, in a number of cases, considerably more respect than I think even its creators intended. Fair play to them for successfully capturing the imagination of the press and the public, I guess, but it's just not the same as the magic I feel reading an old PC Zone and comparing it to its rivals PC Format and PC Gamer as well as multiformat magazines, each of which had their own distinctive tone about them.

We can't go back now, though; the world expects daily updates as things happen these days, rather than a monthly digest of things the editorial team thought were interesting, intriguing or just amusing. And the world certainly doesn't expect a member of a site's staff to hurl such an amazing torrent of intelligent abuse at them as Brooker did to Mark Richardson above; these days, treating your readership with such contempt is probably a firing offence.

Which is kind of weird, when you think about it; websites deal with reader numbers that magazines, even in their heyday, could only dream of, while for a magazine like PC Zone, every reader counted and thus you'd think posting something like Brooker's response would be taking something of a big risk.

Maybe it was too much of a risk. Maybe that's why PC Zone doesn't exist any more. But I'll be honest with you; I miss those days. I'd much rather be working on a monthly magazine than a constantly-updated website, but this is 2014; that's the way things are, so I must, as the saying goes, "deal with it".

1538: Loot Whore

Playing both Final Fantasy XIV and Diablo III — two fundamentally similar but also quite different games — this weekend has got me thinking about loot. Yes, this is a very specific thing to be thinking about, but I find the two games' differing approaches to providing the player with new equipment to be quite interesting.

At heart, the difference between the two games is in whether gear acquisition is purely vertical (Final Fantasy XIV) or whether there's a degree of horizontal… ness about it, too.

What do I mean? Well, in Final Fantasy XIV, the equipment you put on your character is largely determined by your level. And when you hit the level cap, you then work your way up through several "tiers" of equipment that are increasingly challenging to acquire. Item Level 50 items are provided to you as the final stages of your class' quest; Item Level 60 items come from entry-level endgame dungeons; Item Level 70 items used to come from endgame currency and now come from more challenging endgame dungeons; Item Level 80 items come from Crystal Tower; Item Level 90 items… you get the idea. Everything comes from a specific place, and you generally have to "work" for it — items you purchase require grinding out the requisite amount of currency before you can afford them by running dungeons and other content, while items you acquire as loot from dungeons are random drops that, in many cases, will require a large number of runs of the same dungeon to acquire a complete set of.

In Diablo III, conversely, you are constantly thrown new gear. Every other fight you get into, a monster drops something. And with the recent Patch 2.0, it's usually something interesting that has an impact on your stats, damage, healing potential or other stuff. You'll be swapping out equipment very regularly as you find new bits of gear; consequently, equipment starts to feel a lot more "disposable" than it does in something like Final Fantasy XIV. Diablo certainly has an element of vertical progression, too, as items get gradually better over the course of the whole game and have minimum level requirements to use, but when you strap on a new piece of armour it's on the understanding that you might not be holding onto it for very long, unlike, say, my Sorcerer's Coat that my Final Fantasy XIV Black Mage has now been wearing for a number of months now. (That thing must reek.)

There are other ways to handle it, too. Japanese role-playing games tend to take a vertical approach, with new "tiers" of equipment presenting themselves as you progress through the linear storyline, with the "ultimate" equipment usually either tucked away in a secret place or secreted behind a significant challenge. Western role-playing games tend to allow pretty much any character to strap on anything at all, though if your class isn't proficient in it you can expect penalties to your performance. Western role-playing games also tend to festoon their worlds and dungeons with hundreds of the same shitty pieces of armour and weaponry, and then hide a few good bits and pieces in the deepest darkest dungeons. And then you have weird hybrid games like The Witch and the Hundred Knight, which is a Japanese role-playing game that takes heavy cues from loot-whoring role-playing games like Diablo, which combine a toned-down degree of player choice/horizontal progression with vertical advancement as the game goes on.

It must be a really tricky balance to get right, and I don't envy the people who have to design all that gear and ensure it's reasonably well-balanced for the game. (Although unbalanced super-gear can be a lot of fun, too, so it's not unusual to find at least one massively overpowered piece of gear in many games — at least in the single-player sphere.) I'm not sure, on the whole, which system I prefer — if indeed any — because they each have their pros and cons. I really like the sense of achievement that acquiring a new piece of equipment in Final Fantasy XIV brings, for example — it feels like you've done something major. Conversely, I like that the sheer volume of loot in stuff like Diablo allows you to tweak and tailor your character a lot more to your liking — but it is a faff to have to keep comparing stats every few minutes.

There you go. One of the nichiest posts I've ever done. It's late. I'm going to bed.

1537: Lord of... Whatever

I decided to give Diablo III another chance now that the new expansion and its version 2.0 is here, bringing new loot rules and a bunch of other tweaks to the mix. And you know what, it's a big improvement.

I actually enjoyed the original incarnation of Diablo III more than most, and I maintain that its move to an MMO-like always-online structure was actually a pretty good idea from the perspective of easily allowing drop-in, drop-out multiplayer. I did find that it didn't hold my interest after I'd beaten it once, though, much like Diablo II; the fact that in order to unlock the other difficulty levels you had to play all the way through the campaign again and again and again just wasn't appealing — particularly if you wanted to try another character and thus had to start all over again.

One of the biggest additions in the new expansion is called "Adventure Mode" and is probably the aspect I'm most interested in. Unfortunately, access to Adventure Mode is locked behind completing the story-based campaign (including the new Act introduced in the expansion) and thus I find myself having to play through the whole bloody game again because the character I previously finished it with was on the American servers and the people I'm most likely to be playing with this time are on the European servers. I understand why Blizzard separated people by region, but it doesn't stop that particular aspect of the game's always-online nature from sucking a big load of balls.

Anyway, as I understand it, once you unlock Adventure Mode you can just play Adventure Mode whenever you want, and that's a much more appealing prospect. Unlocking the entire map from the get-go rather than forcing you to play through that interminably tedious desert sequence (why do action RPGs always have interminably tedious desert sequences?) again and again and again, Adventure Mode sees you tracking down "Bounties" in various areas of the game world and receiving rewards for them, and occasionally jumping into a "Nephalem Rift" where things go utterly bonkers and you have to kill bajillions of enemies.

It's Diablo in its purest sense, in other words; stripped of the narrative aspects that people skip through and focusing entirely on the game's most enjoyable aspect: the grind, and the drive to earn ever-better items of equipment for your characters. Making the experience non-linear rather than forcing you to play through the campaign repeatedly is a masterstroke, and is likely to give the game a lot more longevity. It also makes it much more friendly to short play sessions, since you don't feel tied to checkpoints in the plot to have made "meaningful" progress. It's just a shame you can't just jump straight back into it — though with the effort Blizzard puts into the story of the campaign, I understand why they want people to see it at least once.

I do find myself wondering why they bother, though. Much like I question the wisdom of including a single-player campaign in Call of Duty year after year when people are much more inclined to spend their time in the multiplayer mode, I can't help thinking Diablo would be a better game without the plot. And I generally like the nonsensical plots of role-playing games — but Diablo's mechanics jar so forcefully with its narrative aspect that it's hard to ignore. The mechanics are ridiculously fun, bringing in strong influences from arcade-style games such as time-limited challenges, secret levels and difficult-to-defeat opponents that yield massive rewards — and yet the plot takes itself deadly seriously. It doesn't quite mesh when you're supposed to feel bad for a major character in series lore dying (spoilers!) one minute, and the next you are literally punching the skeleton out of monsters.

Still, I can't complain too much. I am actually enjoying the new run through the campaign — helped partly by the fact that you can start on a higher difficulty level now rather than being forced to coast through the super-easy "Normal" mode — and am making good progress with my current Monk character. I still prefer Final Fantasy XIV as an online RPG, but I'm looking forward to having the opportunity to play online a bit more with my friends very soon.

If you played Diablo III back when it came out and have since left it behind, I'd encourage you to give it another look; the updates from Patch 2.0 alone are well worth exploring, and the additional content in the expansion looks like being a lot of fun indeed.

1535: El Psy Kongroo

I've already written on the subject at some length over on USgamer, but on the offchance you haven't paid us a visit recently, I thought I'd wax lyrical about my initial experiences with Steins;Gate here, too.

Steins;Gate, for the unfamiliar, is a visual novel from popular developer Nitroplus, whose name you may remember from the excellent "giant robots fight Cthulhu" visual novel Deus Machina Demonbane that I played a while back. Unlike Demonbane, it's not an eroge — though Demonbane's sex scenes were, for the most part, more horrifying and uncomfortable than anything else — but it's still an unabashedly adult affair, just one without any graphic uglies-bumping. It's an enormously well-respected title, known better to most people in the West through its apparently excellent anime adaptation, and an official English localisation has been a long time coming. But come it finally has, thanks to localisation and visual novel specialists JAST USA — one of my favourite publishers in the world for the last few years — and finally everyone can get in on the action.

Steins;Gate is a science fiction tale that, for the few hours I've played so far, centres largely around the concept of time travel and parallel worlds. The main character is a gloriously chaotic individual afflicted with chuunibyou ("middle school second-grade syndrome") — he's utterly convinced that he's a mad scientist and that he's being pursued by a shadowy group called The Organization. Whether or not his delusions turn out to be true or not remains to be seen, but it's certainly an interesting setup; much like Demonbane put the player in the shoes of a protagonist that was a character in their own right rather than an obvious blank-slate cipher, so too does Steins;Gate.

This time around, the narrative influences aren't drawn from Lovecraft, but instead from popular science and science fiction, both Eastern and Western. The game makes frequent references to real-life concepts, particularly with regard to topics like time travel and parallel world theories as well as the real-life modern-day myth of time traveller John Titor. The game makes unsubtle changes to things it mentions throughout (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure becomes Juju's Bizarre Adventure, for example, while the IBM 5100 computer Titor supposedly travelled back in time to retrieve becomes an IBN 5100), presumably to avoid breaching about a bajillion copyrights, but it's always clear what it really means. There's a constantly updated glossary you can refer to as you play, too, that gradually fills up with a wealth of information ranging from Japanese cultural tidbits to scientific and technology history.

It's clearly a setting that has had a lot of thought poured into it. In many ways, although the premise, style and genre are completely different, Steins;Gate reminds me of Aselia the Eternal in the sense that the writers obviously had a very clear vision of how their version of the world worked and how the various characters fit into it all. This was very true in the case of Aselia the Eternal, which I maintain has one of the most well-realised, well-depicted fantasy worlds of any game I've ever played, despite the inherent restrictiveness of the visual novel genre, and is already shaping up to be very true in the case of Steins;Gate. Nitroplus' title goes a step further with all the supplementary information you can refer to as you play — not to mention the fact that clicking the "Internet" option on your in-game phone opens an actual website for the main character's "Future Gadget Lab".

And speaking of the phone, the means through which you interact with Steins;Gate is bizarre and intriguing. Rather than making the usual binary choices that visual novels tend to present you with, Steins;Gate instead makes use of the protagonist's phone as its main means of interaction. As you progress, you'll receive email messages from characters and have the option to respond to them or not; you'll also receive phone calls and have the option of answering them or not answering them, and various other things will happen in and around your phone. The choices you make as to whether or not you engage with these various distractions determine the paths down which the plot proceeds, giving the flow of the story a much more "natural" feel than some visual novels with extremely obvious decision points. (Not that there's anything wrong with that!)

Anyway. I'm but a short way into the overall plot as a whole as I type this and thus there's not a lot more I can say thus far save for the fact that I'm really enjoying it and looking forward to seeing where it goes. It's an immediately intriguing, compelling tale with some fascinating, unconventional characters and an utterly gorgeous art style, so if you're looking for a new interactive story to delve into, I'd encourage you to check it out and grab a copy as soon as you can.

1531: Zodiac Brave

Final Fantasy XIV's second major patch is brilliant stuff, bringing with it an absolute shit-ton of things to do for those who have reached the level cap.

I used to be a little disappointed to hear that MMO expansions and major patches tended to favour endgame players over those working their way up through the levels, but now that I am an endgame player, I completely understand the logic. There's already a bunch of stuff there designed to get people from level 1 to level 50; but the people who have reached level 50 need a constant, continual stream of New Things to Do otherwise they'll simply jump ship and go off to play something else. In a subscription-based game such as Final Fantasy XIV, this is exactly what Square Enix does not want to happen.

Patch 2.1 added a decent amount of new content for endgame players to work through, primarily in the form of new dungeons and Trials (complex boss battles) to play through. Patch 2.2, the most recent one, initially appears to be somewhat similar, but there's a bunch of more subtle tweaks here and there that are designed to keep people invested in the game in the long term rather than simply racing through the new content as quickly as possible, then taking to the forums to whinge that there's not enough to do.

Chief among this time-consuming stuff is the Zodiac Weapons quest. One of the first things you'll want to do upon reaching the level cap in Final Fantasy XIV is complete the "A Relic Reborn" quest, which outfits you with a good weapon for your class that can subsequently be upgraded. The quest is a lengthy affair that demands you work through some of the toughest battles in the game and then participate in enough endgame content to earn the special currency required to purchase some items. Once it's done, it's done, though, and for each class there was previously only really one weapon better than the Relic available, and that was extremely difficult to obtain due to it being secreted in what was formerly the hardest dungeon in the whole game.

Now, though, your Relic can be upgraded further through the new Zodiac Weapons quest. After maxing out your relic, you're then tasked with going on the hunt for twelve "Atmas" — mysterious items that are required to buff up your Relic weapon into something new and shiny. In order to obtain the Atmas, you have to participate in the "FATE" events around Eorzea — little mini-quests that pop up around the world map that anyone in the area can jump in and help out with. For each FATE that you attain a gold medal in, there's about a 5% chance that the Atma for that area will drop, and you need to obtain twelve Atmas in total, so I'm sure you can see how this will take a while.

A grind it may be, but it's had the side-effect of making FATEs relevant again, which is a good thing, since they're a lot of fun and had fallen somewhat into disuse after the rewards from dungeon-crawling became significantly better. Now, though, there's always bands of wandering adventurers crawling around the various areas and stomping through the FATEs, and due to the game's level-sync mechanic, no-one will ever come along and simply overpower them, making it no fun.

Once you've obtained the twelve Atmas, there's then a selection of books to work through, each of which have their own challenges to complete and each of which buff up the Zodiac weapon's stats by a particular amount when you complete them. And then you can do this for each class.

In other words, it's going to take a while to accomplish. Despite the fact it's a fairly unsubtle move to keep endgame players invested in the game in the long-term, having a long-term goal like this is actually rather enjoyable because it brings a wonderful sense of achievement when you do finally accomplish it. I have no doubt that I'll put in the hours required to get a Zodiac weapon for my Black Mage class, and I will probably do it for the other classes I get to 50, too. I'm in this game for the long run, and I'm really enjoying the flow of new challenges that appear every few months.

1529: The Whorleater

I imagine only a few of you reading this will give a toss, but Final Fantasy XIV version 2.2, aka Through the Maelstrom is out today. I haven't had a lot of time to play with it so far, what with having to do pesky work and then go out to Japanese class this evening, but after we've had dinner I'm going to spend some time with it tonight.

I have had the opportunity to at least unlock the Glamour system I talked about a few posts ago, and from there begin assembling my own custom outfits for my high-level classes. So far I've put together some rather fetching ensembles for my Black Mage and White Mage classes — Black Mage looks rather classy in a figure-hugging black skirt, white thigh-highs, black velveteen gloves and a low-cut black coatee with a lacy white collar; White Mage, meanwhile, is clad in what I can only describe as a slightly slutty tennis player's outfit, eschewing the usual frumpy robe of level 50 white mages in favour of a snug-fitting, bone white hempen camise up top and the borderline-indecent Cleric's Culottes (aka the tiniest miniskirt in the world) down below.

I followed my unlocking of the Glamour system with the unlocking of the new dance animations — I know where my priorities are, huh? — and after dinner I'll be delving into some of the more meaty new content. For now, it's time for dinner; I'll update this post with some pics and additional thoughts later.

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Okay, I forgot to take any pics, but I've done the three new dungeons, and they're a lot of fun. One of the best things about much of Final Fantasy XIV's multiplayer content is how most of it eschews the straight "tank and spank" approach seen in many MMOs. It's a very movement-heavy game, and success in boss battles is dependent on knowing any special mechanics that might be in play along with having the ability to avoid incoming attacks.

A particular highlight was one of the bosses in the new Hard Mode version of the Brayflox's Longstop dungeon. Initially appearing to be a rather simple fight against a tough goblin, it's not long before the fight becomes highly chaotic, with exploding mines dropping into the battlefield and criss-crossing the arena with Bomberman-style cross-shaped explosions. Alongside all this, the boss is hurling stuff at you and summoning additional enemies, each of whom lock their attention on an individual party member, necessitating a quick takedown. You really have to stay on your toes and pay attention.

Another particular highlight was the final boss of the same dungeon, which had several different phases: hurling damage at it, staying out of its way as it careened around the outside of the arena, and using area-effect skills to push back swarms of bombs to create a safe zone in the middle of the area. Again, it's another fight where you really need to pay attention to what's going on around you rather than simply going through the motions of triggering the same skills over and over again.

It's the skill-based part of Final Fantasy XIV that, for me, distinguishes it from other MMOs where you might have a bit more character customisation. Everyone at level 50 in Final Fantasy XIV has the same abilities and probably very similar stats, too; the main distinguishing factors between individual players are pure skill and the equipment they're wearing. A skilled player in slightly lower-level gear will pretty much always beat a well-equipped player that is not very observant or not very good at dodging. We're not talking the level of dexterity and timing required by something like Dark Souls, for example, but it's pretty close in some fights — the challenging battles against Titan being probably the best examples.

So far I've barely scratched the surface of the new content. The three new dungeons were great fun and I can see myself running them lots of times, particularly as the rewards on offer are pretty good. Tomorrow and over the weekend, it's onto the main story content and the long-awaited continuation of the hilarious and bizarre Hildibrand quests, which have proven to be a highlight of the new content in both updates so far.

In case it wasn't clear, I continue to be super-impressed by Final Fantasy XIV. The fresh injections of content, the constant improvements to the game experience in response to player feedback and the great community of players I'm lucky enough to be able to enjoy the game with — it all adds up to one of the most satisfying gaming experiences I've had for years. For those of you thinking of joining the fray when the PlayStation 4 version arrives in April, I look forward to showing you around Eorzea!

1528: Oi, Hyakkihei

Now I've actually written my review for it over on USgamer, I can talk a little more about The Witch and the Hundred Knight, the game I've been playing most recently.

I wasn't quite sure what to make of it initially. It's one of those games where there was a fair amount of negative buzz surrounding it quite early on, led by an early review from IGN that wasn't altogether kind. But if my experiences with Time and Eternity were anything to go by, I knew very well that "popular" opinion was something I was unlikely to mesh with, and thus I went in to The Witch and the Hundred Knight with an open mind.

I was very pleasantly surprised. What we have here is a very unconventional Japanese RPG in every respect. It's not turn-based, it's not party-based, it's not overly moe or ecchi, it's not a comedy. Instead, it's an action RPG with a surprisingly dark, deep storyline, and one of the most interesting main characters I've had the pleasure to hang out with virtually in quite some time.

Metallia, the eponymous Witch, is a horrible person. Or at least she initially puts herself across as one. She's foul-mouthed, she's quick to anger and she's aggressive. She appears to have no qualms about inflicting bloody revenge on those she feels to have wronged her, and she seems utterly miserable and bitter about everything.

Over the course of the game, we learn about her. We get to see her gradually letting new people into her life, and starting to seemingly trust them. We get some hints about where all that bitterness and rage has come from. And, quite early on, we also learn that Metallia is not long for this world — though not why immediately.

We observe all this through the eyes of the Hundred Knight, a supposedly mythical figure that Metallia summons at the outset of the game to do her bidding. The Hundred Knight is the player avatar, though, so you have a certain degree of autonomy from Metallia's wishes, and indeed can express your opinions non-verbally at various points throughout the game. You're still bound to Metallia, so progress in the overall plot is largely determined by eventually fulfilling her wishes of destroying the "Pillars of Temperance" and spreading her swamp around the world, but between those predictable story beats, the Hundred Knight gets involved in a number of distinct adventures, each of which forms itself into a neatly contained episode of the overall narrative.

A particularly effective episode is the seventh chapter in the game. I won't spoil the details for those who are planning on playing the game for themselves, but suffice to say that it tells a complete, surprising and interesting self-contained story with a surprisingly emotional payoff. It explores both Metallia and the other members of the cast who have joined by this point, and blends both humour and pathos to a surprisingly effective degree.

The pathos aspect is what I think I've found most surprising about The Witch and the Hundred Knight so far. Developer Nippon Ichi is typically known for relatively light-hearted fare, though in some cases (ZHP is a good example) there's often a more thought-provoking core underneath the exterior fluff. The Witch and the Hundred Knight is, I think, the first Nippon Ichi game where the "dark" aspect has been very much pushed to the forefront, with any comedic moments being somewhat incidental rather than the other way around. The narrative is bleak and, at times, genuinely sad without resorting to being overly "gritty". It's a stark contrast to what I wrote about a short while ago with regard to triple-A games; compared to Thief, which wants desperately to be treated as an 18-rated movie, The Witch and the Hundred Knight never feels like it's trying too hard and, consequently, ends up coming across as far more genuinely mature than Thief ever did despite being considerably more colourful and stuffed full of stylised, bizarre characters.

Anyway. As I noted in my review for The Witch and the Hundred Knight, I'm sure not everyone will be into the particularly abrasive personality of Metallia and her adventures, but if you're after an interesting action RPG with a compelling, unusual story and some satisfying, challenging game systems, you could certainly do far worse, so check it out if you have the chance.

1527: Trope-ical Crush

The word "tropes" has taken on something of a pejorative meaning in recent years, but I find something oddly comforting about the use of common, established, recognisable tropes — particularly when it comes to Japanese entertainment. I also find it interesting that Japanese entertainment — both games and anime — is a lot more willing to fully embrace the idea of tropes as part of the medium's language rather than attempting to hide what it's doing.

Take the common character tropes, for example. In a typical "harem" situation (usually a male protagonist surrounded by female characters, one of whom is typically positioned as the "main" love interest, but the others of whom are optionally also either interested in the protagonist or the objects of the protagonist's affections) you tend to have your tsundere, your kuudere, your childhood friend, your "princess" type, your genki girl and, depending on how many characters are involved, numerous others. And yet the predictability of this type of cast makeup, for me, doesn't prove to be tiresome; quite the opposite, in fact. I enjoy being able to point to the various characters and say "well, she's clearly… and she's clearly…" because it provides a recognisable, established starting point for these characters that can then subsequently be built on over the course of the rest of the work.

Exactly how — or if — these tropes are built upon by the work depends entirely on the work in question. Some works embrace the established tropes wholeheartedly and make the characters into textbook examples of the character types they initially appear to be: a valid approach. Conversely, some works deliberately work to subvert the tropes they establish in their early hours with some surprising twists and turns for the characters: also a valid approach. And, for some archetypes, subversion of expectations is part of the trope itself: witness the tsundere, for example — usually frowning, overly defensive and, at times, somewhat aggressive — and how her character arc typically involves her "softening" and showing her deredere side. Or the yandere — quiet and meek, but with something seriously unpleasant festering inside that demure exterior. Knowing that at some point she's going to strike doesn't diminish the impact when it happens; if she's a particularly well-disguised yandere, it's even more shocking and surprising.

I'm a fan of tropes, then; I enjoy that feeling of comforting familiarity that comes about when I come across a new character and recognise their traits. And everyone has their favourites, too; for me, I must confess to having a soft spot for tsunderes, but I do also like a kuudere and there's always something heartwarming about a nice childhood friends romance. And the older sister "nee-chan" type. And a cutie imouto. And… Oh dear. (Essentially, I think I'm saying that my ideal anime harem would be made up of the cast of My Girlfriend is the President.)

If you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed to read TVTropes. (Warning if you're at work: settling down for a "quick read" of that site is a good way to lose a few hours.)