This post makes me sad, because I can’t help thinking a lot of people on that thread are missing the point somewhat. I’m hugely excited for Game Room. I wasn’t at first, but since hearing that there are not only arcade treasures in there but also Atari 2600 and Intellivision games too, my interest has been steadily growing until now I’m at the stage where it’s just after midnight and moments ago, I switched on my Xbox just to see if they released things at midnight, or in the morning. (It’s in the morning, for those who were curious.)
The arguments made in the first post are ones that we’re hearing a lot – not just in the context of Game Room, but also in the context of digital distribution in general. The biggest concern people have with digital distribution is that one day, your content will be switched off and, despite having paid for it, you’ll no longer be able to use it. This is a fair concern, as no-one likes splashing the cash on things that they won’t be able to use at some point in the future – but when you think about it, in the world of tech, this is nothing unusual. Products come and go, specifications increase, chipsets change – and at some point it’s necessary to leave the old behind. Did people complain that the Amiga wasn’t backwards-compatible with the Commodore 64? Do music enthusiasts complain that it’s getting harder and harder to find a cassette deck to play those old albums that you only bought on cassette because they were cheaper?
Well, yes, they probably do, but that’s beside the point. What I guess I’m trying to say is this: isn’t the “built-in obsolescence” of digital distribution the same thing? I have a stack of PC games in a box here, some of which it isn’t possible to run any more. Okay, maybe with some tweaking and playing with software like DOSBox it’s possible to get it going – but to a (for want of a better word) “casual” user, they’re defunct and obsolete. The only difference with potentially-expiring digitally distributed products is that there’s no workaround like DOSBox. Once the content’s gone, it’s gone. And yes, that’s not a great thing, but it’s not something to be surprised about.
The other objection people have is that Game Room will charge you again to play titles you already own Xbox Live Arcade versions of – titles like Gauntlet, Smash TV and the like. The simple solution to this is, of course, to not buy them again – but there’s also the fact that the Arcade and Game Room versions are actually rather different beasts. The Arcade editions of the games are generally enhanced with leaderboards, online play and in some cases, new graphics. The Game Room versions are exactly as they were all those years ago. It may be that some people will be more than happy to buy a game again for the sake of having a completely authentic experience – others should simply avoid those games that they have already purchased.
I think the most exciting thing that a lot of people are missing, though, is that Game Room represents possibly the first fully-legal console-based multiplatform emulator out there. The constantly-rehashed argument from Game Room objectors is that “you can get all those games for free online”. Yes, sure you can, but via means of questionable legality. Downloading a ROM for an arcade title is, legally speaking, only allowed if you actually own another copy of the game in question. Of course, people ignore this rule all the time – especially for the sake of hard-to-find games – but I for one think that it will be pretty neat to have these games available legally and without having to do any command-line or front-end faffing like you have to do with emulators like MAME. Again, it’s a point in favour of the casual users, many of whom probably haven’t even heard of an “emulator”. Let’s not kid around, either – it’s also going to be nice to play some of these from the comfort of the sofa rather than the computer desk.
So I for one am firmly in favour of Game Room, particularly if the rumours of there being over a thousand games set for release in it over the next few years have any truth. Yes, it is a means for Microsoft to make money – but this is just the same as a whole lot of things on Xbox Live already are, much as a lot of things on PSN make money for Sony, and the Wii Shop Channel makes money for Nintendo.
What do you think? Are you going to be downloading Game Room and any games? Or are you going to be leaving the past in the past?
Late again. And I hold one thing entirely responsible for this: Perfect Dark. Actually, two things. Perfect Dark and Cody “NintendoTheory” Winn.
I know I wrote about Perfect Dark the other day but I feel I should enthuse a little more about it because my experiences with it over the past few days have been highly entertaining. First up, I played some online co-op with Calin Grajko (who was brave enough to interview several members of the Squadron of Shame a while back and has stayed in touch since) – specifically, through the first few levels on Perfect Agent difficulty. This was great fun, as Perfect Agent difficulty is pretty brutal in its difficulty – you don’t get much in the way of life, there are lots of (failable) objectives to complete and there are tough enemies all over the place. The best thing about playing co-op, though, is that it gives you the opportunity to have a laugh along with the game. Perfect Dark may appear at first glance to be taking itself rather seriously, but you only need to jump into a co-op game to see that really isn’t the case. This is a game that shines when played with friends, be it co-operatively or competitively.
Which brings me to the next point – Counter-Operative mode. This is possibly the most broken game mode I’ve ever played, but it’s brilliant in its stupidity. One player controls Joanna Dark, just as in single-player, and has to complete the missions. The other player, on the other hand, repeatedly respawns as random enemies around the level. Jo has one life. The Counter-Operative can keep coming back over and over again, and it’s their job to make life a pain for Jo.
It’s tempting for the Counter-Operative to rush in and confront Jo as soon as possible, of course, but if this happens the match can be over rather quickly. What is far more entertaining is when the Counter-Operative decides to play mind games with Jo’s player, as Calin did to me.
As I made my way down the dataDyne building, I noticed it was oddly quiet, and there seemed to be something of a trail of destruction, like someone had got there first. The building was completely devoid of enemies, until I got to the bottom floor. I stepped out of the elevator and headed towards the level’s exit when suddenly…
BIFF!
Jo’s vision blurred and I whirled her round to discover an incompetent-looking guard in spectacles punching me repeatedly. It was Calin. He punched me again and knocked my gun out of my hand and suddenly, we were engaged in the sort of cack-handed fistfight that only ever happens in first-person shooters. As Calin realised that the enemy characters weren’t capable of picking up weapons that had dropped to the floor, I seized my opportunity and grabbed my dropped pistol, shooting him in the head and escaping the level.
It’s not entirely clear whether or not anyone bothered to playtest or balance Counter-Operative mode, but one thing’s for sure – it’s so ridiculous it is one hell of a lot of fun.
The thing that’s kept me up tonight, though, is something which is always dear to my heart in online gaming: leaderboards. As anyone who battled against me in the Geometry Wars 2, err, Wars of last year will attest, leaderboards inspire great competition. And it so happens that Mission 1 of Perfect Dark on its easiest difficulty level provides an ideal arena for bitter competition to see who can clear it the fastest. Cody and I were ping-ponging times back and forth earlier until, as of this time of writing, I sit on the top spot of my friends leaderboard with a time of 40.95 seconds. I invite any of you to try and beat that – without using the apparently-infamous glitch that I’d never heard of before today which allows you to beat the level in 6 seconds flat. Challenge set!
As you can tell, I’m smitten with Joanna’s adventures. I was back in the N64 days and I am again now. Perfect Dark is such a complete package that it is almost without a doubt one of the best uses of 800 Microsoft Points on XBLA. There is so much to do besides the basic single-player missions. There are the various multiplayer modes. There is co-op. There is counter-op. There are tons of secrets to discover in the Carrington Institute that forms the backdrop to the main menu. There are challenges. There are leaderboards. There are Achievements. It’s a game that will keep you busy for a very, very long time.
The thing I’m most impressed by, though, is the fact that as a game it still plays brilliantly today – ten years later – with no modifications besides the resolution and framerate upgrades. It takes some adjusting to playing a game which doesn’t point out your objectives in gigantic neon-coloured HUD arrows, but I find it far more satisfying than any shooter I remember playing in recent memory – both in single-player and multiplayer.
So if you haven’t bought it yet, stop bitching about the N64, stop moaning about the framerate on the old version, stop complaining that it gave you motion sickness (at least until you’ve turned off “Head Roll” in the options to see if that makes you feel better), stop whingeing that the characters’ mouths don’t move when they talk… look, just buy it and enjoy it, okay?
Downloaded Perfect Dark on XBLA today. I’ve been waiting for this for a while, seeing as how I had some very fond memories of late-night multiplayer sessions on the original. Funny thing was, once it actually came out, I found myself hesitating a bit, wondering if it was still good.
I didn’t need to worry. It is still good. Really good. Once you get over the N64-era level design, physics, character models and textures you’ll realise there’s still an incredibly solid game there, only uprezzed to HD and running at a frame rate the N64 could only dream of. I played a bit of the first level single player earlier and then went over to a buddy’s house to play some multiplayer. The single player is good, and it’s nice to play a Rare FPS again. They always were a pretty unique experience, with much more in the way of stealth elements and creative objectives than many other titles. But that’s not what I remember Perfect Dark most fondly for. It’s the multiplayer that I have the best memories of.
My God. How good is local multiplayer? It’s easy to forget in this online age that one time, the only way to play games multiplayer was to bundle around the house of whoever had the biggest TV, take your N64 controllers and try and shotgun the top-left corner of the screen. I always prefer local multiplayer, as there’s something about being in the same room with your opponents – who, by the very nature of the fact you’re playing locally with them, are people you know well – that takes it from a fun but ironically solitary experience to a proper social event.
I ranted about the “social gaming” phenomenon yesterday in terms of how it really wasn’t “social” at all, but this experience is true social gaming. Playing Perfect Dark on the Facility… sorry, Felicity level with remote explosives, rocket launchers and four FistSims on their hardest difficulty, and being surprised when the hand-to-hand only bots end up winning as a result of our collective ineptitude with anything vaguely explosive – priceless. Still fun, nearly ten years after we first did it.
So if you’re umming and ahhing about getting Perfect Dark and you’re the right age to appreciate it – i.e. you played and enjoyed it first time around – then stop hesitating and just get it. If you’ve been raised on Call of Duty you might be a bit shocked at the primitive graphics and seemingly simplistic gameplay, but give it a shot. You might just be surprised.
I’d love to have sat in on the design meeting for Apogee Software’s 1995 FPS Rise of the Triad, now available on Good Old Games. In my mind’s eye, it runs something like this:
“So, gentlemen. That Wolfenstein thing did rather well. Let’s do a sequel.”
“Yes! I love Wolfenstein. Who wants a beer?”
(Beer is chugged. Conversation resumes.)
“Right. So how are we going to make this better?”
“Okay. Here’s the deal. Umm… Hitler was actually being controlled by… like… um… some big corporations.”
“Great. Sounds good. How many?”
“Um. Three. Three’s always a good number. Wolfenstein had three episodes. Plus another three.”
“Right! We could call them the Triad.”
“I think that’s been done.”
“Doesn’t matter. Okay, so Hitler was being controlled by the Triad.”
“Yes. I need another beer. It helps me think.”
(More beer is chugged. Conversation resumes.)
“Okay. So, game-wise, what are we going to add?”
“Rocket launchers.”
“More gore. More gore!”
“Dual-wield pistols!”
“Traps! Spiky things! Flame traps!”
“All good suggestions, but… let’s think outside the box a little.”
“Boss?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t use management-speak. It makes you sound like a douche.”
“Sorry. Where were we? Come on. Think bigger.”
(Silence ensues.)
“Nothing? Really? Okay, maybe this will help.” (Produces a bottle of absinthe.)
(Absinthe is chugged, with much teeth-sucking and head-shaking.)
“Right! That should get those creative juices flowing. Okay, let’s try again!”
“Ooo! Ooo! We need jumping.”
“Yes, but not normal jumping, no. We need springboards.”
“Yes! And floating platforms to jump onto. Otherwise there’s no point.”
“Right. And we can call them Gravitational Anomaly Discs.”
“GADs?”
“Yes. And the elevator ones can be called EGADs.”
“Egads! What a fabulous idea.”
“I see you’re getting it. Let’s have another drink.”
(Another shot of absinthe is consumed.)
“Jesus. Maybe… maybe you… maybe we should have a… y’know… God mode.”
“Ishn’t that, ishn’t that… jusht… y’know… an invinsh… invinsh… invuln… can’t die mode?”
“No no nononono, I mean an actual… actual God mode. Where you become God.”
“Oooo! I likesh it. You could get really big.”
“Yesh. And kill… peoplesh by pointing at ’em. You’sh an angry God.”
(Hysterical laughter.)
“Oooo! And how about… y’know… as a joke… we also put in a… a… Dog mode!”
“What, where you turn into a dog?”
“Yesh. You get *hic* really shmall and bite peoplesh nutsh.”
(Thunderous belch.)
“Ugh. *hic* This is… ‘scuse me… *hic* shounding great. You know what? Shall we just ditch the World War II thing?”
“Yeah. Too much research.”
“Let’s have shome mad monksh inshtead.”
“Monksh with ROBOTSH.”
(Fade to black as hysterical laughter continues.)
The alarming thing about Rise of the Triad is that all of the above features were actually included in a game that was originally intended to be a sequel to Wolfenstein 3D. Now, Wolfenstein didn’t take itself too seriously anyway, what with all the zombies, and a very fat Hitler in a mechanized suit wielding two chainguns, but presumably at some point it became apparent to Apogee’s Developers of Incredible Power, the team behind Rise of the Triad, that a World War II setting wasn’t going to cut it. Instead, the game features a very strange setting, with players battling everything from soldiers dressed in what look like World War I uniforms to robots to monks, armed with a selection of weapons ranging from the straightforward (pistol) to messy (bazooka) to bizarre (drunk missile) to outright insane (Excalibat, which is exactly what you think it is). Add in the God/Dog modes, the ability to fly with Mercury mode, the headache-inducing Shrooms mode and you have a game which is clearly designed for fun foremost with the story being cast aside in tatters.
It’s all the better for it. The sheer speed and insanity of Rise of the Triad is one of the game’s best features. The relatively simplistic, boxy level design design based on an evolution of the Wolfenstein 3D engine means that it’s easy to race through relatively mindlessly, or those who prefer a more methodical approach can attempt to solve some of the quasi-platforming environmental puzzles in order to unlock the game’s secrets.
It’s evidence of a simpler time, when games either weren’t capable of telling a decent story, or it was seen as a secondary thing to do. Half-Life this ain’t. Rather, Rise of the Triad represents a time when gameplay was at the forefront, and shareware games were on the cutting-edge of technology. These days, shareware titles are less prominent in their importance for many people, but in the mid-90s when Wolfenstein and Rise of the Triad appeared, shareware developers like ID/iD/id/whatever and Apogee were very much leaders of the pack, pushing the capabilities of the PC to the limit. This was also a time when “shareware episode” meant “complete game in and of itself” –both Wolfenstein and Rise of the Triad‘s free shareware episodes featured ten full levels, which were complete experiences in their own right. Rise of the Triad actually went one step further by making its shareware episode a completely different set of levels to those in the full, paid version, meaning those trying out the game and then going on to buy it didn’t have to run through the same levels again. There were no 30-day time limits or crippling of features – if all you wanted to play was those ten levels, so be it. If, however, you wanted more levels and more features (in the case of these games, more enemies, more playable characters and more multiplayer modes) then you shelled out the money to support the game.
Apogee, of course, later became 3D Realms, which begat Duke Nukem 3D and Max Payne. Rise of the Triad does show that it’s worth delving back into a company’s history as you can often found some hidden gems amongst them, however bizarre they may be. There’s one thing you can’t deny about Rise of the Triad, and that is that it’s immensely creative within the limitations of the time, the genre and the medium. Releasing titles as shareware often freed up developers to do what they really wanted to do – and if that was to have the player assault an island full of soldiers, monks and robots while armed with a magic baseball bat and having the occasional ability to turn into a dog, that was up to them. Occasionally these days with indie titles we see glimpses of the same creativity. It’s important to keep that dream alive, otherwise we end up with a hundred and one identikit brown shooters.
Tolkoto’s recent Exploding Barrel rant about reviewers’ reactions to the recent Turtles in Time remake on Xbox Live got me thinking. What is it that gets people so excited about some “retro” games and not others? I agree with him, in fact – reviewers’ reactions to Turtles in Time was somewhat harsh, particularly considering it’s only 800 space dollars. Criticising the gameplay of the original by measuring it against modern yardsticks clearly isn’t acceptable… or is it? It’s difficult to say. After all, this may be some gamers’ first encounter with an early-90s brawler (although XBLA has hosted the previous Turtles arcade game along with the magnificent Streets of Rage 2 and the diabolical Double Dragon) – what gives? And how come Castle Crashers – fundamentally the same game in many respects – gets smothered in adoration?
A common criticism of the brawler genre is that it’s “too simple”. But let’s take a look at another genre in the form of the PSN’s recent brick-breaker Shatter, which has garnered almostuniversalpraise since its release a couple of weeks ago. Shatter is, let’s not kid around here, Arkanoid. Okay, you have a “suck” button. And a “blow” button. (Stop sniggering at the back.) But fundamentally, it’s still Arkanoid. You’re a bat-shaped spaceship hitting a ball into bricks that are floating in space with some flimsy justification laughably called a “plot” buried somewhere in the Help menus. There are powerups, including one where you can just shoot down the bricks. Pretty much the sole point of the game is to achieve as high a score as possible – and high scores are something the game does well. It’s a simple game. Everyone loved it for this fact.
So in terms of gameplay, Shatter adds little to the Arkanoid formula save a few fancy bits of physics, some HD art and a kickass soundtrack that I love and Feenwager hates. So why is this game awesome and Turtles in Time a bit steaming turd to reviewers? God knows.
The important thing is, of course, what the player thinks of all this. Those who enjoy the brawler genre or have fond memories of playing Turtles in Time on the SNES will have an absolute blast with the new XBLA remake. Similarly, those who enjoy bouncing things around and smashing walls will love Shatter. But are people more predisposed to like Shatter as it was designed from the ground-up to be a new game rather than a “re-imagining” of Arkanoid? Arkanoid LIVE on the 360 released to mixed reviews and has, it seems, been mostly forgotten already. Shatter, on the other hand, gives me the impression that people will perhaps be more inclined to give it a go, particularly given its very generous price point ($7.99 in the US store, £4.79 over here) as a result of the few things it does a little bit differently.
This pattern follows us around a great deal. LittleBigPlanet for PS3 is a 2D platformer, and unashamedly so. Yet plonk someone down in front of that, then down in front of, say, Rolo to the Rescue and see which they prefer. Actually, that’s perhaps not strictly accurate. Plonk someone down in front of an HD version of Rolo to the Rescue sold for $10 on XBLA or PSN and ask them which they prefer. Would the answer still be LBP? Judging by what has happened with Turtles in Time here, it may well be, though many players, particularly those who have played and loved both, may feel a bit differently.
This has been yet another rant without any real point but do feel free to comment if you have any feelings. I’m planning a new music post very soon – those take a bit more preparation though. 🙂
I’ve been banging on about ancient 8-bit RPG Alternate Reality since the last SquadCast now and am finding the process of revisiting it with an adult’s mind (i.e. one that understands what an RPG is) equal parts addictive and frustrating. The reason for this is that Alternate Reality itself is an incredibly ambitious game with very grand designs… yet its difficulty level at the outset is absolutely maddening… and yet (again) this difficulty level makes it incredibly addictive. You start think that if you could just get a little further… or if you hadn’t tried to punch that knight in the face while not wearing any armour… things would be better.
At this point, let’s pause for a typical playthrough from beginning to inevitable early death. Strap yourself in, we’re going to another world.
It’s a typical day in the city. Perhaps I’m on the way to work, or on my way to meet a friend. But disaster is waiting just around the corner, because…
Holy shit! Aliens! AAAAHHH!!
And now they’re abducting people! Interestingly, I’m not the only one abducted… it looks like the ship picks up three others. (I’m not sure if these other three people are ever mentioned… or perhaps it’s a reference to the fact you have four “save slots” on your character disk)
Uh-oh… we’re leaving. But where are we going…?
Ah, yes, space. Of course. They are aliens, after all. Wait a minute, I know how we can lift our spirits…
A little sing-song! Maybe this won’t be so bad…
As the song ends, two sets of big scary doors slam shut and I’m locked in a green room where I am invited to “become a new person”.
When the doors slide open again, I’m in front of a gate with a force field over it. Numbers rotate over the gate. As soon as I step through the force field, the numbers freeze in place, defining who I am to be in this new world.
There’s a flash of… lightning? Static? Something, and then…
Apparently I am “joined”, and ready to enter an alternate reality.
(In the subsequent loading break, you have to swap disks twice unless you have more than one drive. You thought you had it rough with JRPGs.)
And here I am at the Floating Gate, ready to begin my adventure. You’ll notice my statistics are distinctly average. From left to right, we have Stamina, Charisma/Charm, Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom and Skill/Dexterity. These have a potential initial maximum of 21, so Stamina, Charisma and Skill are pretty good, but Strength, Intelligence and Wisdom are pretty feeble. Fortunately, Skill is probably one of the most helpful stats early in the game, as it allows you sufficient mobility to avoid attacks from early enemies.
So, first job? Find a weapon. You begin your adventure in the city of Xebec’s Demise with only the money given to you by the strange portal at the beginning, no equipment and only some basic clothing. Fortunately, your starting area is the City Square, with the Floating Gate in the middle and shops all around. So, let’s take a look.
A smithy, huh? This sounds promising. I know he’s in at the moment, too, because I can hear him hammering away inside. (And yes, you actually can. This is just one of the cool “environmental effects” that you hear throughout your travels). So, let’s pay him a visit.
(Single-drive users can expect a disk swap at this point.)
The Best Armorers, huh? Sounds expensive. However, as the smith seems quite happy to stand there singing while I browse his wares, I take my time and consider my options carefully.
7,424 coppers? I was right, this place is expensive. In fact, there’s nothing I can even nearly afford in here. I tell him to forget it rather than risk offending him by making him a paltry offer (which might make the smith reluctant to deal with you in the future, when you could potentially afford his wares – one of the many things that AR keeps track of in the background). I step back onto the windy streets, still distinctly lacking in equipment. Time to explore.
As I leave the Best Armorers, it starts raining, which makes it difficult to see where I’m going and slows me down. Thunder crashes and lightning flashes. But at least I haven’t run into any ne’er-do-wells as yet.
Spoke too soon. A wandering zombie notices me but doesn’t have time to act. I don’t fancy taking it on in my current state, so I run for it. Fortunately, I managed to get away before it was able to do anything unpleasant to me.
A little further down the road, I surprised a rabid-looking Giant Rat. I elect to leave it alone as I don’t fancy adding a disease to the list of my woes. It’s still early days in this strange place.
After a little exploring (and a Hobbit surprising me, then running away without saying a word) I hear the sound of a smithy again… but there’s no doors in this building. Curious. I press against a wall and find myself slipping straight through it. A secret door!
Sure enough, it’s another smithy. Occums Weaponsmiths, to be precise. It’s cheaper… but still way out of my price range. Curses.
Outside, it’s still raining, and worse, I run into a Goblin. Desperate, I try and sweet-talk it into stepping down and maybe giving me some of its treasure and equipment. The conversation doesn’t go well, with the Goblin responding to my polite request by trying to stab me. This place is just like Southampton. Maybe I haven’t gone anywhere at all.
I respond in kind to the Goblin by punching it in the face. It’s a feeble attack, but at least it connects, which is more than can be said for the Goblin’s attacks. With my high Skill, I nimbly avoid and parry all of his blows and manage to knock the foe to the ground without sustaining any injuries myself. Unfortunately, the Goblin doesn’t seem to be carrying anything of value. I do, however, gain a total of 59 experience points from the whole encounter.
Night falls, and it’s still raining. I surprise a Fighter in the street, but he looks tough so I decide to avoid him while he’s still surprised. I begin to think it might be an idea to try and find somewhere to spend the night. It’s clear the City is an inhospitable place, but I imagine this becomes even more apparent in the night-time.
In search of an inn, I get mugged by a Skeleton. What a bastard. Fortunately, I manage to get away before he can attack properly. But how much did he steal…?
I check my pockets. Fortunately, I don’t seem to have lost anything irreplaceable, and I still have a few copper coins to my name. Enough to spend the night somewhere, hopefully.
I encounter a Dwarf a little further down the road. I’m not sure if he’s friendly or unfriendly, so I decide to turn on the Charm and see what he has to say about that. Bizarrely, he dies. I think this is AR’s way of telling me that this was a successful encounter, not that my tongue was so silver he simply collapsed and died in wonderment at my words. Possibly. Whatever actually happened (and I guess we’ll never know), I now have 205 experience points. Not yet enough to reach level 1 (You have to earn level 1! The indignity!) but a step closer, nonetheless.
A Troll shows its face next. It looks scary, so I try and disengage from it and escape. I do so, but not before it steals some of my water and food. This isn’t going well.
For a worrying moment, despite working with a map (an absolute necessity, as this was, of course, the days long before automapping) I think I’m lost, and I haven’t bought a compass yet. Fortunately, I get my bearings shortly afterwards and manage to stumble my way to the doorway of Mom’s Bar, where the giant rat I ran away from earlier (possibly) is waiting for me. The rat tries to steal some more of my food and water then tries to bite me, but I dodge it and duck into the bar to get out of the rain.
The bartender informs me that the band are on a break, but invites me to watch a dwarf dancing. Since I’m hungry and thirsty, I decide to take him up on his offer and sit at the bar watching the dwarf and listening to his quirky music.
I order some water and a food packet to take with me. This only costs me a few coppers, fortunately, and should give me enough sustenance to get through the night… I hope. I step back out of the door. I wonder if it’s stopped raining yet…
It has. But it’s still dark and I need a place to sleep. I stumble through the city streets some more, pausing only for another giant rat (the same one again?) to steal the food packet I just bought.
Eventually I come across a welcome sight – a door marked “Inn”. Unfortunately, as I reach for the handle, I’m attacked by a Gremlin. I ask it very politely if it wouldn’t mind awfully stepping aside if it would be so kind, and it dies at my words, finally giving me enough experience to reach level 1. Not only that…
TREASURE! The Gremlin drops a potion. I can’t work out what it is, but it tastes dry and is red in colour. I decide not to quaff it right now just in case it is deadly poison, which is entirely possible in this harsh world. The Gremlin also drops a shield, which looks “mundane”, apparently. I pick it up and wield it on my off-hand, not caring that I look ridiculous wielding a shield but not a sword. Cutting a rain-drenched yet distinctly self-satisfied figure, I barge into the Green Boar Inn.
I elect to spend the night on the common room floor as despite having my first taste of acquiring treasure, I’m not exactly flush with cash. I hand over 10 coppers and spend the night on the floor, asking to be woken at 9am the next day.
(Aside: This is, I think, the longest I’ve ever survived. It figures that the one time I decide to show you a “typical playthrough” and make reference to “inevitable early death” I’m here for ages.)
I step outside the door and give a charming greeting to a passing commoner. The commoner is obviously in a bad mood and promptly stabs me in the stomach. I try and apologise, but he stabs me again, so I run away, bleeding a bit. I’m also now very hungry and very thirsty. Time to pay that tavern another visit.
Seriously hungry and thirsty now, and my stats now starting to drop from thirst, I impulsively spent my remaining coins on food and drink – some grape juice, a couple of food packets and some chocolate cake. When I leave a few hours later, I’m still thirsty but I’m not hungry any more. Plus I enjoyed the band’s song.
Back on the street, the sun is setting (Already? I must have been in that tavern longer than I thought) and I encounter a Thief. I charm him successfully and take his two pieces of silver that he was carrying – this equates to twenty copper pieces. It paid for the chocolate cake if nothing else.
Incidentally, reading the official guidebooks and cluebooks for The City indicate that successfully Charming someone is indeed killing them – you pretend to be their friend then stab them in the back. So to the Dwarf I met earlier… uhh… sorry! This is something you have to be careful of in your time in the City. Encounters fall into three categories – Good, Neutral and Evil. You can safely do whatever you like to Evil creatures. Attacking a Neutral creature (and these include most of the humanoid ne’er-do-wells such as thieves and fighters) first before they do anything to you is considered an evil act… and tricking or charming a Good creature is a very evil act. As you might expect, dropping your reputation in this way is a sure-fire way to get the whole city pissed at you.
In a case of art mirroring life, I find myself “very thirsty” again, much as I am feeling now, sitting here writing this with a sore throat. Keen to prevent my already feeble statistics (in-game) from dropping any further, I head back to Mom’s Bar to rehydrate myself.
I order three glasses of water and sit at the table for a while, sipping them. It’ll be time to sleep again soon, which should help me recover the injuries I sustained with my ill-advised encounter with the Commoner earlier. The band sings an entertaining if unnerving song about not going into bad parts of town at night for fear of being set on fire.
I stagger out of the tavern and head back towards the inn. Perhaps tomorrow will be a more productive day.
I wake up and, once again, I’m hungry and thirsty. Time for breakfast at Mom’s Bar.
Unfortunately, I get jumped by a Swordsman outside the inn. The swordsman steals all my coppers then cuts me up with his sword. Fortunately, he proves easy to Charm. I hold my hands up in truce until he comes over, then I snap his neck. Unfortunately, he seems to have eaten my coins, so I’m now penniless, hungry and thirsty.
I’m not proud of what I do next. I use my not-inconsiderable skills of persuasion to “convince” a passing Courier to part with what he was carrying. Unfortunately, he was the walking equivalent of a white van with a “NO TOOLS ARE KEPT IN THIS VAN OVERNIGHT” sign posted on the back, as he is carrying nothing but a bitter-tasting potion which disappears in a puff of smoke when I attempt to quaff it.
I do hit level 2, though, so it’s not all bad news.
I’m reaching desperation point now. I come across a Fighter and attempt to sweet-talk him out of some coins. This fails and I get hit again. I manage to run away before too much injury is done to me, but things are starting to go downhill.
Saved! I find another tavern – this one called the Misty Mountain. But they want three thousand copper coins before they’ll let me in. Given that I don’t have any copper coins whatsoever, I am quickly ejected from the premises.
I begin to feel that my demise might be on its way. Death is peering over my shoulder. I slink back onto the street, dejected, weary and very thirsty. I manage to dredge up a food packet from my pocket to satiate my hunger for the moment, but there’s no water anywhere to be seen.
Unable to help myself, I stumble into the path of a robber and attempt to beat him back, but I fail. He takes my last remaining possessions and runs away. By now I’m parched and starving, and I can feel myself weakening moment by moment. I must cut a pitiful sight.
I collapse somewhere around the city’s walls and am confronted by a guard. My attempts to mug the populace out of desperation have not gone unnoticed, it seems, as he attacks me without warning. By now, I am grateful for the attention. I put up some meager resistance but secretly, within, am hoping for the sweet release of death as this existence has become too difficult.
I am slain by his greatsword and crumple to the ground, never to be heard from again.
Alas, I am dead.
So there you go – in slightly longer format than I anticipated, but never mind.
Alternate Reality: The City is one of those games that is infinitely better when you treat it much as I did above – as a “playground” where you make your own story. This is largely because the game has no aim as such – partly due to its design, and also partly due to the fact that the whole series was never finished – a crying shame, as the whole series had a huge amount of potential.
For the unfamiliar, the series was originally planned to be split into several interconnected volumes – The City (and the Dungeon beneath its streets), The Wilderness, The Palace, The Arena, Revelation and Destiny. Only The Dungeon ever made it out onto shop shelves – as a separate game rather than part of the original City package. The Dungeon had much more structure and actually had an “end” too – or more specifically, a point that clearly led onto the final two chapters, Revelation and Destiny.
Revelation and Destiny were the interesting-sounding ones. Towards the end of The Dungeon, the player character was supposed to acquire a keycard, which could be used to enter the Revelation area where everything suddenly became a bit more futuristic. The player would find themselves walking the corridors of an alien spacecraft, looking out through windows into a dramatic spacescape, while Destiny would allow the player to finally discover the truth – that abducted humans had been placed into a form of suspended animation within “cocoons”, each living out their own parallel life in the city of Xebec’s Demise and its surroundings.
Hold on a minute, you might think. This all sounds a little bit familiar. A bit Matrix-y if you will. And you’d be right.
Philip Price, author of the series, claims he once met a pair of movie directors who wanted to discuss Alternate Reality. It’s never been verified whether or not this was the Wachowski brothers, but there are certainly plenty of similarities between the two series, and it makes a nice story for geek folklore nonetheless. It’s a crying shame that Price never got to realise his ambition, however, as the whole thing would have been a magnificent achievement had it come to fruition.
As it is, The City and The Dungeon stand as two extremely interesting (not to mention playable and addictive) curios – role-playing games that were many, many years ahead of their time that arguably could finally have their original intentions fulfilled nowadays. It would certainly be interesting to see Bethesda working on a re-imagining of the series. But I guess we’ll never know.
Some great info and links on Alternate Reality can be found here and here. Check it out. Oh, and here’s that glorious intro sequence in full – a five-minute long intro on a 48k machine isn’t bad going, is it?
Forget Sega vs Nintendo, it’s time for the battle of the old sound chips.
As I commented on the recently-released 8-Bit Computer Retrospectacular Squadcast (which I really do recommend you go and listen to – it’s our best yet), I was an Atari boy growing up, largely because that’s the system we had at home – there was none of this “own every system” malarkey that goes on now, partly because the systems were a lot more expensive in relative terms than today’s consoles, and partly because pretty much the same stuff came out on all of them anyway.
The bitterest battles that we Atari people fought were against the might of the Commodore 64, a machine of roughly equivalent power and capabilities to the Atari 8-bit series of computers. Both had very similar specifications, so it was common for owners of the two systems to try and outdo each other whenever possible. This constant effort of oneupmanship often took the form of trying to outdo each others’ graphics as seen here in this equivalent screenshot from Alternate Reality: The Dungeon on Atari (first) and Commodore (second).
Atari fans were quick to point out that clever programmers were able to get 256 colours on screen at any one time while the Commodore often seemed to have a more limited colour palette. But then Commodore would strike back with something like this shot, the title screen from Draconus (again, Atari first, C64 second):
Facepalm. “Hey, where’s all your colours now, Mr Atari?”
Graphics were all very well and good, but some of the bitterest battles were fought on the aural front, with both systems having a great sound chip far ahead of anything else at the time – Atari being armed with POKEY, Commodore with SID.
Okay, I may be exaggerating when I say “bitter battles” but it’s clear that there was some rivalry here. Some compositions sound clearly better on Atari while others are clearly superior on the C64. And it’s the SID chip’s sound which has endured in today’s chiptunes. There’s still POKEY players and archives out there, sure, but nothing on the scale of, say, the High Voltage SID collection, an exhaustive library of pretty much every piece of SID chip music, both retro and contemporary, you would ever want.
So, let’s take a look at a few examples. That is why you’ve read this far, right? To hear some funky old chiptunes? All right. Here we go.
Zybex – Adam Gilmore
Atari version:
C64 version:
Two versions of a cool song that you’ll be familiar with if you’ve read my past entries on game music. Adam Gilmore worked on a lot of music tracks for both the Atari and the C64 (including the theme for Draconus, pictured above) and was clearly very familiar with how to get the best out of both of them. It’s difficult to say which one is the best out of these two – or even if there is a “best” one. The Atari version, to me, has a cleaner sound, while the C64 version has some more interesting synth effects.
Warhawk – Rob Hubbard
Atari version:
C64 version:
Rob Hubbard was one of the undisputed masters of the 8-bit sound chips, with games featuring his music frequently marketed due to that fact – even if said music only appeared on the title screen, as was the case with most games, including Warhawk here. In many cases, the demands that pushing the sound chip hard enough to produce complex music put on the processor meant that having in-game music was often impractical.
I’ve gotta hand it to the C64’s SID chip here, the Warhawk theme sounds hugely better on it – partly because it seems that Hubbard actually wrote a more complex piece of music for it. Listen through, though, and you’ll hear the kind of effects that you’d expect to hear on a standalone synth – vibrato, tremolo, chorus, echo – it’s impressive stuff.
M.U.L.E – Roy Glover
Atari version:
C64 version:
A much older and simpler piece of music than the kinds of things Rob Hubbard dreamt up, the M.U.L.E. theme is still a catchy little piece. For my money, I prefer the POKEY version of this one as the sound envelopes that are used, particularly on the melody line, just give the whole thing a bit more “fullness” than the C64 version which sounds a bit “dry”.
Action Biker – Rob Hubbard
Atari version:
C64 version:
Oh dear. It’s clear where Mr Hubbard’s loyalties lie now, isn’t it? The pathetic, short loop used in the Atari version of Action Biker becomes an actual piece of music on the C64. Thanks. Thanks a lot.
Digital music
Bonanza Digi (Atari):
Digi Freaks Digi (C64):
What many people didn’t realise (even now, in some cases, and definitely not in the early days) was that both of these sound chips were more than capable of reproducing and sequencing sampled sounds, leading to much more realistic-sounding pieces. Of course, the sound quality is nothing to write home about, but there’s something gloriously 80s about the sound of “noisetracker” pieces such as these – a phenomenon which continued with the 16-bit machines, particularly with the C64’s 16-bit successor, the Amiga, whose sound chip was so far ahead of Atari’s equivalent effort for the ST (which in many cases sounded inferior to POKEY) it was ridiculous.
So there you have it. A few selected examples from the Atari and C64’s sound chip back catalogues. Back in the day, I was genetically predisposed to hate everything Commodore but on reflection, there are many examples of its superiority in music production. There’s certainly got to be a reason that the sound of the SID chip has endured as long as it has and remains popular to this day, while POKEY remains relatively obscure. I’ll always have a soft spot for those Atari sounds, though.
If you’re interested in making chiptunes, this plug-in for VST- and AU-based DAWs provides a good way to get started for low-cost, while fans of the old NES sound should check this (free!) one out.
I know I said I was going to talk about Persona 4 and City of Heroes, but indulge me for a moment if you would. I’m going to talk about Sonic again, since I’ve been playing the Mega Drive/Genesis Ultimate Collection thing some more. Specifically, I’ve been playing a lot of Sonic 1.
Replaying Sonic 1 a number of years after I last “seriously” played it (in my case, when it first came out on the Mega Drive) was an eye-opening experience. Firstly, you forget how difficult old platform games are when compared to the hand-holding that modern games offer. Secondly, you forget quite how many swear words are actually in your vocabulary.
I have a confession to make here – Sonic used to scare me a bit when I was a kid. Not “jump out of your skin” scared a la Resident Evil, but “edge of the seat, worried, frantic” kind of scared. I could never really pin down why this was when I was a kid – I just knew that, although I enjoyed playing it, it freaked me out a bit too.
Now, I have one word to say why: traps. Or more specifically, spikes. One thing I don’t remember having seen in many games I’ve played recently on next-gen consoles is a good old-fashioned pit of spikes. Or a big heavy thing with spikes on it that drops on your head. Or a wall that suddenly shoots out spikes and impales you on them.
Sonic is full of spikes. And their simple presence makes the whole experience of running, jumping and collecting things that much more tense, because you know that they’re one of the things that can lead to premature death, even if you have shields and rings in place. Plus, when you think about it, impaling something on spikes, or dropping spikes on it, is a pretty unpleasant way to die, isn’t it?
Thinking about it, an awful lot of these old games featured incredibly unpleasant ways to meet one’s demise, usually involving spikes, being crushed, falling down a big pit or, in extreme circumstances, a combination of all of these things. Sonic isn’t by any means the only one to feature painful-looking death-makers. Mario also had plenty of spikes and crushy things to contend with, as indeed did pretty much any 2D platform hero of the time. And even though these games aren’t gory at all, having a spike penetrating a place that is not supposed to be penetrated by sharp things looks painful!
Enough about my spike phobia (and Jane’s, incidentally – she actually can’t watch me play Sonic for fear of the spikes) – I had another point. Sonic’s design understands player psychology perfectly. Each level is crafted to play with your expectations and make you want to slap yourself in the face when you fuck up the same bit for the fifth time.
A particular case I have in mind occurs in the Labyrinth Zone, which is full of spikes and long underwater stretches where you can drown, along with swinging ball-and-chain things and bottomless pits. It’s one of the least “friendly-looking” zones in Sonic, and (for me at least) one of the more challenging ones. The bit I’m thinking of sees you tempted by an invincibility powerup… only to clonk you on the head with a big spiky ball and chain if you mistime your approach – i.e. if you charge straight in without pausing to see if it’s safe! Later in the same level, there’s another invincibility powerup closely followed by a nasty bottomless pit. Naturally, when you grab the invincibility powerup, you feel invincible, so you take rather less care than you would normally, leaving you highly likely to go barging straight into the pit. It’s frustrating and results in some colourful language but the key thing is, each time you mess up, you know it’s your fault for falling into the psychological traps left by the level designers.
Coming at this from a modern, more experienced and world-weary perspective, it’s been a real pleasure to re-experience the whole game and understand a little better what they were doing when they put them together. Good level design makes the difference between a game that is “cheap” and a game that is “challenging”. When I first started replaying Sonic, I was all for screaming “cheap!” at it – but now, having put a bit of time in, I know what they’re doing. I still make mistakes, but I know they’re my fault now, not the game’s.
This is in direct contrast to the recent Sonic games, where deaths are just as (if not more) likely to be caused by poor game mechanics than by player error or design psychology. It’s been sad to see Sonic lose his way over the years, but it does make me feel a little bit better to go back to the Mega Drive originals and find that they really are timeless.
Hey all! Thanks for stopping by. I realise it’s been a while since my last post, but these things happen. Sometimes real life takes over with a veritable shitstorm of stupid things happening, and this was one of those times. This is not the place, nor is it the time to talk about these things, but suffice to say that blogging hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind just recently.
Still, I plan to change that now and get back into the habit, and what better way to get back into things than with a good old-fashioned retro games post? You’re absolutely right, there is no better way!
Okay. So my old Xbox 360 semi-died on me recently, with the DVD drive pretty much giving up the ghost and on several occasions failing to register that there was even a disc in the drive. This, of course, is a problem for a fundamentally DVD-based system – and also, the Xbox was acting as our primary DVD player in the house, too, thanks to its fancy-pants upscaling shenanigans.
So eventually after a bit of umming and ahhing we (yes, we) decided to purchase a new one. I picked up the new Premium, or Pro, or whatever they’re calling it now, with the 60GB hard drive, which will be nice. That 20GB drive on the old one filled up surprisingly quickly. However, I do wish Microsoft had had the decency to include a transfer cable in the box. You can get one for free by sending off a form to them (through the post… no online request option, how quaint… and inconvenient) but mine hasn’t arrived yet, so I’m using my new 360 with my old hard drive at present. FAIL.
The point, though.
Game were doing a couple of bundles with the 60GB model. One was with Call of Duty 4, a game which I know is fabulously good and marvellous and the best thing ever but I really have very little interest in whatsoever. What did interest me, however, was the Sega Mega Drive Ultimate Collection (or Sega Genesis Fuckfest as Tolkoto of the Exploding Barrel Podcast memorably dubbed it), which was the other game on offer. The irony of the fact I spent nearly £200 on a console only to get a bunch of Mega Drive games with it was not lost on me. You know what else plays Mega Drive games and costs approximately a tenth of an Xbox 360? A Mega Drive!
That’s not entirely fair, of course, because the 360 version of the Mega Drive collection comes with a veritable plethora of 16-bit entertainment including all the expected things (Sonic 1, 2, 3, Sonic and Knuckles followed by various Sonic spinoffs as the blue spiny dude’s credibility slowly began to wane, like a slow descent into alcoholism and drug abuse) plus some things that I personally am very glad to see in there but many others likely won’t give a damn about (Phantasy Star 1, 2, 3, 4 and Shining Force, Shining Force II and Shining in the Darkness) and some other things besides. Purchasing (let alone locating) all these Mega Drive games would take time and money, whereas there’s apparently over 40 titles to play with in this collection. I say “apparently” as they seem remarkably reluctant to list all the titles in too many places. Perhaps this means there’s some pleasant surprises tucked away somewhere.
What struck me having played a few of these is that many of these games are still fundamentally excellent games. Sonic in particular still plays very well, although it’s easy to forget with the rose-tinted spectacles quite how frustrating it was at times. It’s also interesting to play a properly optimised version of these games finally. I’ve spent my whole life thinking that one of Sonic 2’s great new features was the fact it ran at approximately twice the speed of the original Sonic. Not true. The PAL version of Sonic 2 ran at roughly twice the speed of the original PAL version of Sonic. In fact, this collection has taught me that Sonic 1 is actually quite fast and the original PAL port was one of the shoddiest 60-50Hz hack jobs of all time.
There’s also some pleasant curios on the collection, too. I never knew the Mega Drive played host to a Roguelike, for example, but it did, in the form of Fatal Labyrinth (which is one of those examples of Japanese titling where two random, vaguely related words are thrown together) – an absolutely shameless remake of Rogue with 16-bit sprite graphics and smooth scrolling. It doesn’t have much in the way of depth (as the original Rogue didn’t – it wasn’t until later titles like Moria and Angband that they became the behemoths they are today) but it includes a lot of the elements that make Rogue fun – the fact you don’t know what anything does until you take a risk and use it being the main one. Chug back a potion and you might suddenly be stronger. Conversely, you might suddenly go blind. It’s as brutal as Rogue and, despite its simplicity, it’s actually fun and addictive.
There’s a whole batch of unlockable extras too, with the usual video interviews that you get with this kind of package, but also a selection of Master System and arcade titles too. All in all, it’s a great package that I will certainly enjoy delving into on a regular basis. Plenty of interesting Achievements to go for too – they’re not just of the “Complete Sonic” variety, there’s a little bit of creativity there, too. The Achievements are also used to unlock the additional content, too, so that actually gives you some incentive to go for them, too.
Anyway. More soon. I have plenty of things I want to talk about over the next few days, not least of which include Persona 4 along with City of Heroes and its new expansion, the Mission Architect.
You can also follow the Squad’s updates on Twitter here.
This episode, we delve into Games of No Shame. These fall into several categories – the games everyone loves that you hate, the games everyone loves that you love too, the games that everyone hates that you love and the games you’re terrified of being caught playing.
Also on this episode, Beige talks about jizz and Pokémon, we use the phrase “sucks like a banshee” and Pishu goes a-hustlin’.
Follow us on Twitter for up to date news, including rollout information of our exciting new website now that 1up has witnessed the power of that fully operational battle station that is UGO.