2509: Still on Chapter Three

I am still on Chapter Three of Final Fantasy XV, appropriately dubbed "The Open World" — the point at which the majority of the main map opens up to you and you're let loose to go and piss around doing whatever you want before progressing the main story.

The fact this moment occurs so early in Final Fantasy XV is a curious inversion of the usual formula for Japanese RPGs in the Final Fantasy mould. The typical format is that the game spends anywhere between 10 and 30 hours sending you on a linear quest that takes in most of the major locations around the world, conveniently introducing you to all these places and gradually providing you with increasingly unrestrictive means of transportation between them. At some point in the game — usually not long before the final confrontation and the end of it all — you are effectively given the "keys" to the world and complete freedom to explore, usually in conjunction with some particularly convenient means of getting around such as an airship.

Not so in Final Fantasy XV. Here you're given the open world almost from the very beginning of the game, and there are a hell of a lot of things to do in it. I have been finding the myriad sidequests and hunts enormously entertaining and compelling, so much so that I haven't advanced the story beyond the party's arrival in the major town of Lestallum, and yet somehow I'm 30 hours deep in the game and past level 40 on all my characters.

There's an argument that this kind of structure kills pacing somewhat, and it's often a bugbear of mine with open world games. But I sort of feel like it makes sense this way around: that "open world" bit at the end of older Final Fantasy games often felt a little peculiar, as the narrative was demanding that you fend off some sort of imminent disaster, and yet there you were breeding chocobos, investigating crashed planes underwater or collecting frogs to get through a forest. The narrative demanded urgency, in other words, but the gameplay discouraged it.

In Final Fantasy XV, meanwhile, after the dramatic opening of the game, Noctis and his companions are simply out in the world, attempting to operate incognito while developing their own skills. While the Empire's invasion of Noctis' home city of Insomnia is something that needs Sorting Out at some point, the Noctis at the beginning of the game is not ready to face up to that responsibility, nor is he skilled enough or familiar enough with his unique powers to be able to simply charge in and take on a whole empire. It makes sense, then, for him to travel around the world, coming to understand it with his friends, developing relationships with people who could prove useful to know in the future, and improving his own skills in the process. The Empire will still be in Insomnia tomorrow, after all, and retaking a capital city is not the sort of thing you want to rush.

Practically speaking, it doesn't really need all that much justification, as exploring Final Fantasy XV's world is simply fun. Today I particularly enjoyed encountering the Rock of Ravatogh, a dungeon at the far Western side of the map that is actually a landmark you can see from the far Eastern side. Yes, it's that old open-world favourite "if you can see that mountain, you can go to it" — or in this case, "if you can see that mountain with weird pointy glowy bits sticking out of it and smoke billowing out of the top, you can go to it".

The Rock of Ravatogh, despite being an outdoor location, is treated as a dungeon rather than just a hill that you have to find your way up. This makes it a much more enjoyable, spectacular experience to climb, as it's been designed and paced to feel like a real trek up a mountain, rather than simply walking in a straight line up a sloping grass texture. There are sections where you need to avoid slipping, there are sections where you need to climb cliff faces, there are sections where you need to pick your way along perilous paths with sheer drops to one side of you. And there are some amazing views of the game world along the way, plus a great reward for making it to the very top.

The Rock of Ravatogh is only the second dungeon I've encountered in Final Fantasy XV, but it's very different to the first, which was a series of dark, underground tunnels with scary noises behind closed doors. This gives me hope that other dungeons in the game will be similarly varied and interesting to explore; I'm looking forward to encountering them for the first time.

2507: Into Duscae

(Should have been posted last night, but I forgot to hit Publish!)

A little over ten hours into Final Fantasy XV so far and I'm well and truly on board.

Pro-tip: if you're finding the opening a bit slow, make an effort to not get sidetracked by sidequests and instead push the main story on at least until you're able to get into the Duscae region. From here, the game opens up a whole lot more and you'll have had a taste of various different experiences you can expect to see a lot more of throughout the rest of its duration.

One thing I was very pleasantly surprised about was the discovery that Final Fantasy XV has proper dungeons. This isn't particularly unusual for a Final Fantasy game, but it is relatively unusual for an open-world RPG, to varying degrees. Games like The Witcher 3 have kinda-sorta dungeons dotted around the place, but these often tend to feel like "oh look, another cave" rather than an exciting place to explore and loot. Games like The Elder Scrolls series have hundreds of the bloody things everywhere, but are often designed in a somewhat copy-paste manner, meaning that few of them feel "special". And games like the Xenoblade series pretty much do away with dungeons altogether; Xenoblade Chronicles X did have some underground areas, but again, like The Witcher 3, they felt more like part of the scenery than a discrete experience in their own right.

Relatively early in Final Fantasy XV's main story, you're taken to your first dungeon, and it works in traditional Final Fantasy manner: it's self-contained, it has its own music, it has secrets and branching routes to explore, and it has its own lineup of monster encounters. It felt like a significant gameplay moment to step into this place, and it was exciting and rewarding to explore. There were some surprising and interesting scripted encounters within, and the whole thing felt authentically… well, Final Fantasy.

And I think that's part of the reason I've never really found open-world RPGs to do dungeons in a satisfactory manner for my tastes: you often end up doing exactly the same thing in them that you do out in the open world, whereas Final Fantasy XV's dungeons look set to have unique mechanics, puzzles and methods of exploration. I'm looking forward to discovering more of them.

I think that sums up Final Fantasy XV's approach quite well, actually. It knows when to use scripted sequences effectively — dramatic confrontations, boss fights, dungeons — and when to use the more freeform, unpredictable and emergent gameplay more typically found in open world games. Purely emergent games (I'm picturing the Elder Scrolls series in particular when I use this description) often end up feeling a bit sterile and characterless because nothing has had any real soul put into it — it's all driven by mechanics. Final Fantasy XV, meanwhile, will surprise you with unscripted encounters out in the wilds (its equivalent of the random battles of yore), but also knows when would be a particularly effective time to have a monster burst through a wall or a villain to make their first appearance to make a speech and attempt to defeat you with Their Infallible New Weapon.

I like Noctis and his friends a lot; their constant banter, while occasionally repetitive, adds a lot more personality to wandering the fields than Skyrim's mute protagonist, and by restricting the party to those four core members (and occasional guests) the conversations can flow naturally rather than having to work by triggering responses to one another as in something like Xenoblade. Already I'm feeling that core theme of "brotherhood" coming through very nicely indeed. The supporting characters are great, too, running the gamut from all-business badass (Cor) to the flamboyantly colourful and gorgeous (Cindy).

I'm having a blast, in other words. I'm looking forward to my next day off, when I'll be able to really get stuck in.

2506: Fifteen

Well, it's Final Fantasy XV day and I've spent a good five or six hours playing it this evening.

It's good. Real good.

I haven't progressed that far in the story as yet as it's simply fun to wander around exploring, doing sidequests and listening to the soundtracks of old Final Fantasy games while the gang drive around in their car. However, I'm very much looking forward to the world opening up a bit more — I'm penned in to a relatively "small" area at the moment by barricades that prevent going more than a certain distance by road or on foot — and seeing what is out there to discover.

Even in this fairly fenced-off starter area it's clear that it's going to be a fun ride, though. In particular, I'm very much enjoying the combat; far from being a hack-and-slash action game along the lines of something like Kingdom Hearts, it manages to blend what looks like fast-paced action with relatively strategic, cerebral combat that rewards careful positioning and exploitation of enemy resistances and weaknesses.

And the world of Eos is one simultaneously filled with wonderment and pleasingly familiar mundanity. In the first few hours, I've spent time at a seaside resort, a motel and a truck stop, but also fought recurring Final Fantasy monsters such as goblins and flans, and run away screaming at the sight of an Iron Giant. I've hunted down groups of monsters and fished up a meal for a stray cat. And I've witnessed the devastation that Niflheim wreaked on protagonist Noctis' home city of Insomnia.

And the music. Dear lord. I already knew that the soundtrack was going to be something special from the preview tracks I'd previously heard, but the full experience is something else. Multiple battle themes according to the context make me very happy indeed, particularly as they're all wonderfully energetic, blasting pieces full of drama and excitement. But the more incidental music is very pleasant, too, changing according to the time of day and your surroundings and, in settlements, adjusting its mix according to whether you're inside or outside.

The whole concept of it being "a fantasy based on reality" has been pulled off very effectively so far. The world and the places you visit are all very plausible and realistic, but overlaid on the top of all that is the wonderful sci-fi/fantasy blend that Final Fantasy has been so good at for years. It really, really works as a setting, and I'm looking forward to exploring it in more depth over the coming weeks.

For now, though, as I have an eight-hour shift to work tomorrow and I have a cold coming on, I should probably call it a night there. Probably.

2505: Final Fantasy

With Final Fantasy XV out tomorrow and my excitement for it at an extreme level, I've decided that I'm going to devote the next month on my other site MoeGamer to an in-depth exploration of the series as a whole.

Final Fantasy as a whole may be a little outside my usual mission with MoeGamer — it is neither underappreciated nor overlooked — but it's worth discussing nonetheless, particularly with regard to those installments along the way that are regarded less favourably.

It's also worth discussing as it's a series with a long, interesting history, and can quite rightly be described as genre-defining alongside its longtime rival Dragon Quest.

Mostly I want to talk about it because it's been important to me for a long time now. Nearly 20 years, in fact, which is a scary prospect, as my first encounter with the series is still absolutely fresh in my mind, as if I'd just experienced it yesterday.

I first heard of Final Fantasy VII, my first point of contact with the series, through my brother. I had a PlayStation at the time (well, more accurately, I had a hand-me-down Japanese PlayStation that my brother left behind) but, what with it being a Japanese model, I hadn't really explored the games available for it beyond the three I already had: Ridge Racer, Tekken and Raiden Project.

Hearing my brother describe Final Fantasy VII made me want to try it, though. I'd already had experience with story-heavy games thanks to our family's mutual love of point-and-click adventure titles from Sierra and LucasArts, but this sounded like something different; something more. Specifically, the thing that got me interested in it was the promise of a scene partway through the game where pretty much everyone who had played it ended up crying. (Said scene is now one of the most famous scenes in all of gaming, but back in '97, it was easier to remain unspoiled.)

So, reading up on the old "disc swap" trick that allowed you to play different region games on a PlayStation, I propped my PlayStation's lid open with a biro lid and a bit of Blu-Tack and inserted the first of the three discs of my shiny new copy of Final Fantasy VII, not sure what to expect.

I was immediately blown away by the spectacular video intro sequence that moved almost seamlessly into in-game action, with polygonal characters moving perfectly in sync with the prerendered background camera angles. (I was then slightly distracted by the rather primitive field screen character models Final Fantasy VII is now somewhat notorious for, but I quickly became accustomed to them.)

The music drew me in. The action started right away. It was like being part of a movie. Then I got into my first battle and, having never really played an RPG before, was initially baffled. Once again, though, it didn't take me long to become accustomed, and there was no turning back from that point: the game had me well and truly in its clutches.

I enthused about the game to my friends at school. They were initially skeptical, but it didn't take a lot of convincing to get them to give it a try. And before long, they were as obsessed with this spectacular new game as I was. We played it through together, discussing things we'd found and things we'd achieved; we'd complete it, and start over again, eager to enjoy the story all over again. We devoured guidebooks and online FAQs about the game, keen to see everything it was possible to see. And, on one particularly memorable occasion fueled by tequila and various other intoxicants, we played for 36 hours straight, my friend Woody passing out midway through the G-Bike sequence, having some very peculiar dreams and suddenly waking up demanding to know "what's an X-Walker?" (To this day, we have no idea. X-Potions? Sure. X-Walker? No clue.)

The impact Final Fantasy VII had on me drew me to explore the rest of the series. While at the time I found the NES original a little hard to appreciate — it was just a bit too clunky in comparison to the later games — from IV onwards (or II as it was known back then thanks to the fact Final Fantasy II, III and V didn't see Western releases until many years after their NES and SNES original versions) in particular I found them to be just as compelling despite their more primitive visuals and sounds.

These were games that told stories that resonated with me. Stories about people who rose up from humble beginnings, gathering a group of close companions and achieving something incredible. This sort of thing is seen as cliched as all hell these days, but there's a reason the standard JRPG tropes have been a thing for as long as they have: even before video games, this story structure is proven to be an effective way of telling a heroic epic.

Even in those early days, though, I could tell that the Final Fantasy series wasn't one to rest on its laurels. While I had a fairly Western RPG feel to it with its completely mute, characterless party, II introduced the series convention of having a party of predefined characters with actual personalities. III brought us the Job system for the first time. IV gave us an incredibly detailed story full of emotion. V refined the Job system further. VI turned the narrative conventions of the series on its head by not really having a "main" character, instead allowing us the opportunity to spend time with an enormous ensemble cast. And so on, and so on.

I'll talk about this in detail once I start writing the MoeGamer pieces, but Final Fantasy is a series that has constantly reinvented itself over and over again. Even in those installments that seem superficially similar (I-III, IV-VI, VII-IX) there are enough unique components to each title to make them distinct from one another, and from X onwards the series has enjoyed even more drastic, dramatic reinventions with each installment. And this isn't even getting into the myriad spin-off titles, many of which are even more fondly regarded than the mainline titles in the series.

As you can tell, I'll have plenty to write about. And I'm afraid you're almost certainly going to have to put up with a lot of enthusing about XV on this here site from tomorrow onwards, too. I make no apologies for my excitement in this regard.

Now, just a good night's sleep and a day of work between me and my first adventures in the lands of Eos. Can't wait.

2499: One Week to Go

Until what, you ask? Until Final Fantasy XV, of course.

Regular readers will know that I don't often get hyped up about big-budget releases, but ever since I played Final Fantasy VII for the first time back in my schooldays, the mainline Final Fantasy series has been something that I cannot — will not — miss out on. And the signs are good for XV to be an incredible installment.

Here's a new trailer if you're not sure what the fuss is about:

There are so many things I like about this trailer, and what it promises from the full game.

Broadly speaking, I really like the "fantasy based on reality" idea that appears to have been the main impetus behind its design. Final Fantasy XV's game world, Eos, is based on the modern age in a believable manner — right down to your party sometimes spending downtime with their heads stuck in their respective smartphones rather than talking to one another — but incorporates classic Final Fantasy material in amongst all that. I'm a big fan of this idea; I love the concept of "supernatural crazy things happen in a world that is like ours", so I'm very much on board with Final Fantasy XV's overall setting.

One of the things I'm most interested in is the small playable cast, which consists of just four members plus occasional guests. This is one of the smallest playable casts in Final Fantasy history, though the last time the party was this small (FFI and FFIII; you could perhaps make the argument for FFV too) the technology wasn't really there to do anything interesting with characterisation. (EDIT: descarte25 quite rightly pointed out in the comments that we've also seen small casts in X-2, XIII-2 and Lightning Returns.) Now, though, we have incredibly realistic character models doing believable things in a plausible fantasy world. And the small cast size means that everyone is going to get some exploration; no-one is going to feel like a "bonus party member" who is little more than a walking collection of stats and abilities.

It's an interesting bunch of characters, too. Noct, while looking like one of the most emo teenagers in the entire history of the series — which is saying something in a series that features Squall Leonhart — has already shown himself across a couple of demos and an anime series to be a likeable, interesting and anything but morose protagonist with plenty of depth to his character. The fact that it is his story rather than an unlikely group of heroes who just happen to stumble into their destiny to save the world puts an interesting twist on the series' prior formula. Noct starts the game as someone unique and special, though perhaps doesn't quite know what to do with his status, and thus relies on his friends to help him through his journey.

One of the key themes of the game as a whole is intended to be the bonds of brotherhood between the four characters in the main cast. They grew up together, fight together and live together on the road as Noct continues his journey; although the circumstances of each of them meeting, as depicted in the Brotherhood anime, were anything but natural — not least because Noct is a prince — it's clear that their mutual relationships are going to develop and deepen over the course of the adventure. The best RPGs convey a clear sense of party members being true companions, closer than family, and if Final Fantasy XV pulls it off correctly, it's going to be a memorable ensemble cast for sure.

Outside of the story, there are a bunch of gameplay systems I'm looking forward to, too. The Ascension system looks like an intriguingly deep means of developing the four characters' abilities, for one, and the magic system, where you mix elemental energy with other items to produce all manner of different effects, looks particularly fascinating. Magic is also interesting in that it has an impact on the environment around you, too; fling a Fire spell and the surroundings will burn and become scorched; fling a Blizzard spell and everything will become coated in frost. This is not something that is normally acknowledged in role-playing games, so I'm interested to see how it fits in here.

There look to be a wide variety of sidequests along the way, too, including Final Fantasy XII-style hunts. I'll be interested to see how deep these sidequests are; technically the Behemoth hunt in the Episode Duscae demo was a sidequest, and that had a ton of things to do along the way, including investigating the area, tracking the beast to its lair and devising a spectacular strategy to deal with it — including abilities for each character that were unique to that fight rather than simple hack and slash. While I'm not counting on all sidequests being that interesting, the designers have claimed that they've made an attempt for there not to be "filler" content ("bring me 50 pelts from the monsters on the plains!") and so hopefully this stuff will be worth doing. It remains to be seen how well they achieve this.

That's probably enough enthusing for now, because you can bet there'll be plenty more to come next week once the game's actually in my PS4. Here's an hour-long video of some of the music from the game.

2497: The Further Adventures of Class Zero

After some further time with Final Fantasy Type-0, I'm now 100% on board with what it has to offer. It's a slow burn, to be sure — its rather drab early hours don't really sell it all that well, but by the time it's flinging Alexander, Bahamut Zero and Gilgamesh (including the correct music) around with gay abandon it's hard not to enjoy the ride.

I'm planning a Final Fantasy month over at MoeGamer at some point in the near future, so I'll write more about this then, but I did want to comment a little on the game's tone, because it's markedly different from the mainline Final Fantasy series, and makes this abundantly clear from the outset.

Mainline Final Fantasy games are benchmark JRPGs for many people; they're regarded as the quintessential example of "young hero gathers a band of companions and saves the world", despite a number of installments deviating from this stereotypical formula. One thing you can say with a reasonable amount of confidence, however, is that, on balance, they're optimistic affairs, all about bonds of friendship and love overcoming great evil and that sort of thing. This isn't to say that the series doesn't have its dark moments — in fact, several installments' darkest moments make up some of the most iconic and influential moments in all of gaming history — but on the whole, it's a series designed to make you feel like part of a heroic epic with all the optimism that involves.

Type-0, meanwhile, occupies the complete other end of the spectrum. I talked a little yesterday about how it de-emphasises the role of the individual in favour of a large cast of characters, and the further you play, the more this becomes apparent. Part of Type-0's background lore is the fact that when someone dies, anyone who knew them forgets who they were, even if they were very close. This is one of many reflections the game makes on the horrors of war; a very literal interpretation of Stalin's supposed (and possibly misattributed) quote "when one dies, it is a tragedy; when a million die, it is a statistic".

Type-0 lays it on fairly thick with its depictions of the brutality and the senselessness of war. It doesn't do so in a particularly preachy manner, however; the game's setup is such that it's fair to spend some time pondering whether anyone — including the side you're on — are the "good guys" in the conflict depicted. Instead, we simply see various horrors unfolding, both through the eyes of Class Zero on the ground, and through the distant detachment of the narrator during the documentary-style cutscenes that punctuate the main beats of the narrative as a whole.

One particularly chilling moment comes in the aftermath of a mission late in the game, which culminates with your side in the conflict summoning Alexander as an ultimate weapon of mass destruction; in order to do so, many of your allies give up their lives as they channel their magic and life force into the summoning. The devastation that Alexander wreaks is immense, presented to you in simple, cold statistics — white text on a black screen — after the battle is over. While in the heat of the moment, Alexander's summoning is pure Final Fantasy fanservice, the realisation that the spectacular light show you just witnessed cost the lives of many people on both sides of the conflict makes you wonder whether or not it was worth it.

I'm nearing the end of the game now, I think; just two more chapters to go. I'll be interested to see how it ends — particularly if it concludes on as bleak a note as its opening sequence, featuring a seriously wounded soldier trying his best to reach his destination with his also wounded chocobo, then finally dying, forgotten, on the streets as the conflict continues to rage around him. I'm also interested to do a second playthrough once I've beaten it once; not only are you at a more suitable level to tackle the optional "Expert Trials" on a second playthrough, there are also additional missions called "Code Crimson" which add additional details and context to the story.

Considering Type-0 is a spinoff game in the Final Fantasy series rather than a mainline installment — and considering it originated as a Japan-only, handheld-only title — it's impressive quite how much lore has been packed into this game, all of it reviewable through an in-game encyclopaedia. You don't need to know most of it to appreciate the story, mind you; it's simply there as "additional reading" if you find it interesting. While I wasn't sure about Type-0 when I first started playing it, the longer I spend with it, the more fascinating I find this war-torn world that seems to be on a collision course with absolute disaster, so I very much welcome this additional content, particularly as some of it comes in the form of cutscenes that explain what happens to a number of minor characters along the way.

I'll have definitely beaten it at least once by the time Final Fantasy XV rolls around; whether I'll have made it through any more of that remains to be seen, but now I'm familiar with how it all works and got to know the characters, I'm certainly up for a bit of New Game Plus.

2496: Type Zero

In anticipation of the imminent Final Fantasy XV — a game which I am getting increasingly desperate to play the closer its release date creeps — I decided to boot up a game I've had on my shelf for a while, but haven't really done anything with: Final Fantasy Type-0 HD for PlayStation 4.

I had pretty much no idea what I was in for when I fired it up for the first time. I just knew, prior to its release, that it was a well-regarded game for PSP that had previously been confined to Japan, and that people had been clamouring for a localisation for quite some time. In fact, so desperate were English speakers for an English version of the game that there was already a decent quality fan translation of the PSP version available, though in order to play that you'd need to 1) know how to "do" PSP homebrew and 2) be willing to "do" PSP homebrew.

In other words, Final Fantasy Type-0 was a mystery to me when I first started it. After about 15 or so hours with it so far, I think I've kind of got my head around what it's all about and where it sits in relation to other Final Fantasy spinoff games — and the mainline series, for that matter.

Type-0 (formerly Final Fantasy Agito XIII) is part of the overly ambitious Fabula Nova Crystallis series which also includes the Final Fantasy XIII games and the upcoming Final Fantasy XV (formerly Final Fantasy Versus XIII), though since the series was first conceived each of the projects kind of diverged off in its own direction — hence the name changes, abandoning the direct links to XIII — so that now they only have the loosest of thematic and stylistic connections with one another.

That said, Type-0's mythology is quite closely related to that of Final Fantasy XIII despite unfolding in a different world, with particular regard to the existence of "l'Cie", individuals who have submitted themselves to the will of a superior entity (in FFXIII's case, powerful godlike beings called fal'Cie; in Type-0, the "peristylium" crystals that form the centrepieces of the game world Orience's various city-states) and an obligation to fulfil some grand purpose called a Focus in exchange for kinda-sorta immortality and badass magical powers. Unlike Final Fantasy XIII, you don't play l'Cie in Type-0; they're part of the backdrop of the ongoing story.

Type-0's narrative focuses on the dominion of Rubrum and its elite training facility Akademeia. Across thirteen classes, Akademeia trains young people to become Agito, the best of the best when it comes to martial and magical prowess. Among the classes, the cream of the crop is found in Class Zero, a unit of youngsters with particularly exceptional powers that has, until the events at the start of the game, been kept somewhat secret from the rest of Akademeia.

Class Zero is brought out of hiding and into immediate active service as Agito Cadets when the Militesi Empire invades Rubrum's capital and Akademeia itself. Against rather improbable odds — including a l'Cie — they manage to push back the imperial incursion and retake Akademeia, giving Rubrum the opportunity to pick itself up and start planning a counter-offensive. From here, Class Zero plays a leading role in helping Rubrum to expand its territory, push the Militesi Empire back and prevent them from deploying any more of their weapons of mass destruction, such as the Ultima Bomb which devastated one of the other city-states of Orience.

If this all sounds highly political and like the setup for a strategy game such as Final Fantasy Tactics… well, you'd be wrong, technically, but there is something to that comparison, which we'll get onto in a moment.

In actual fact, Type-0 is an action RPG in which you control a single member of Class Zero at once — accompanied by up to two of their classmates, depending on the situation — as they attempt to complete missions for Rubrum and, in between mission days, wander the dominion generally helping out and making life miserable for the Militesi Empire. Unlike mainline Final Fantasy games (with the possible exception of XII) where the emphasis tends to be on the core cast's personal stories, Type-0's plot is less about individuals and more about the ongoing conflict between Rubrum and Militesi.

Each member of Class Zero is unique in their capabilities. Each one wields a different weapon, which all handle very differently from one another, and each one has a unique skill tree, though there is some overlap in common abilities between numerous class members. Some are better at dealing or taking physical damage, some are ranged attackers, others have particularly strong magical capabilities. Ultimately, the best approach to playing the game is to try and keep the entire squad levelled up pretty evenly, which means you're going to need to get comfortable with playing at least a few of the characters, and perhaps bring the ones you don't like so much in the AI-controlled slots so they still get some experience.

The reason I mention Final Fantasy Tactics earlier is that the way you set up your characters in Type-0 bears more than a passing resemblance, albeit without the deep and complex Job system that Tactics has. In Tactics, each character had the ability to equip two different "Job commands" at the same time, allowing them to mix abilities and spells from two classes at the same time. In Type-0, your character has two main ability slots, up to one of which can contain a spell — though some characters can unlock an ability to equip two spells — and the other of which can contain one of their unique abilities. There's also a third ability slot dedicated to defensive magic and abilities, allowing characters to equip curative spells, protective spells or physical abilities such as blocking damage.

In order to succeed in Type-0's missions, you ideally need a mix of different capabilities, since you'll run into enemies that are strong or weak against particular types of attacks, and sometimes you'll encounter enemies that are out of melee reach — on balconies, for example — necessitating ranged attacks. In other words, it's not simply a case of equipping all of your cadets with equipment and abilities that boosts their physical attack power as high as possible; you need to understand which ones are intended as mages, outfit them accordingly and them complement them with physical melee and ranged attackers to cover every eventuality.

The combat system itself takes a little getting used to. You control a single character at a time, and the face buttons on the PlayStation controller are mapped to normal attack with your weapon (Square), abilities and spells (Triangle and X) and defensive abilities (Circle). You can "lock on" to enemies and keep them in sight by holding the right shoulder button, and dodge with Circle while moving.

Notably, attacking doesn't require button-mashing; characters instead continuously attack while you hold down Square. Some characters have different moves available if you push forward or backward on the analog stick while holding square; Sice, for example, has a gap-closing leaping slash forwards when you push forward, an attack behind her when you push backwards and a standard melee combo if you just hold the button without a direction.

The different weapons are all very… well, different, and in order to succeed with a character you need to familiarise yourself with not just the abilities you can equip, but the amount of time the character's various animations take to complete. This is because Type-0's combat is heavy on timed hits; while locked on to an enemy, they will occasionally show a weakness, usually right after an attack or if they're knocked off balance. During this time, depending on the enemy's remaining HP, your lock on reticle will turn either yellow (Breaksight) or red (Killsight), and if you land a successful hit with either a physical attack or magic while either of these is active, you'll do enormous damage, even killing the enemy immediately in the case of Killsight.

Just hitting the attack button as soon as you see the markers isn't generally enough, however; most characters have a bit of a wind-up to their attacks, meaning if you start an attack when the marker appears, you'll probably miss the window by the time it actually impacts the enemy. Instead, you need to watch the enemy animations to anticipate when Breaksight or Killsight are going to appear, and over time you'll come to recognise how different enemy types behave in order to take maximum advantage of this feature. Pudding-type enemies, for example, rear back before they swipe at a foe; when you see them do this, dodging to the side to avoid the strike then immediately launching a forward+Square attack with most characters is a good way to hit their Killsight window perfectly every time.

Type-0 is very much a mechanics-focused game rather than a story-centric game, which puts it somewhat at odds with the mainline Final Fantasy series, but firmly in keeping with many of the spin-off titles such as the aforementioned Final Fantasy Tactics. That's not to say the story is bad — I'm not that far in so far, but it's been a suitably dramatic "wartime epic" so far, with many of its important moments presented in an appealing "documentary" style — but rather it's a game in which its individual characters are of significantly lesser importance than the big picture.

It's an acquired taste, in other words. I wasn't sure I was going to like it all that much when I first started playing, and indeed I know a few people who bounced off it quite quickly. However, give it some time and get to know how the combat works, and it becomes quite rewarding and satisfying. There's plenty of side content to do besides the main missions, and it's one of the most replayable Final Fantasy games I've ever seen, with a second playthrough not only seeing your Cadets at a suitable level to tackle tougher challenges, but also rewarding you with additional story material at various points.

Give it a chance if you haven't already. It's not the best game to ever bear the Final Fantasy name, but it's a solid, interesting game in its own right that demonstrates, once again, that Square Enix isn't at all afraid to experiment and do all manner of strange, wonderful things beneath the Final Fantasy banner.

2495: A Step in the Right Direction

When I heard that VICE Gaming was rebranding to Waypoint, my reaction was a hearty "shrug and move on". In the past, VICE Gaming has been responsible for some truly terrible articles about games many of my friends and I are interested in, most notably the Senran Kagura series. I won't bring them up here, but suffice to say, I've written many angry words in the past on the subject.

Consequently, when I happened to see this tweet earlier, my immediate reaction was to predict yet another ill-informed, overly judgemental article about the prevalence of boobs in the game, without exploring any of the things that actually make it an interesting series. (Yes, yes, gratuitous plug for my own work there, but I've written a lot about Senran Kagura.)

Get ready. pic.twitter.com/COP5dRCOGK

— Waypoint (@waypoint) November 18, 2016

Out of curiosity — or perhaps partly to vindicate what I will freely admit was prejudice — I clicked through to the article when someone else shared it and took a look.

Here it is.

My goodness me.

I was genuinely surprised to read not the usual screed about how it's a piece of misogynist filth that everyone should feel ashamed of the mere existence of, but instead a good interview with series creator Kenichiro Takaki about his philosophy towards character design, sexualised content and all manner of other things. Even more notably, the article acknowledges that Senran Kagura games are actually damn fine brawlers in their own right, and far from being simple ecchi delivery vehicles.

I have to give some kudos to Waypoint for publishing this article, and to Patrick Klepek for writing it in the first place. I've had my differences of opinion with how Klepek covers things in the industry in recent years — like many other full-time games journos, he has often shown a significant lean towards the oft-irrational "social justice" side of the spectrum — but in this instance, he's done what he was once known for back in what many regard as "the good old days". It's a solid piece of reporting with some interesting questions and no moral high-horsing. Klepek acknowledges that Senran Kagura's sexualisation is not the sort of thing that generally appeals to him, but doesn't put it down for that; moreover, he even says that he's enjoyed playing the games after a few hours.

The article is just plain nice to read; a breath of fresh air in the current climate. Every interview I've read with Takaki in the past has shown him to be an incredibly enthusiastic creator with a clear vision; he's someone who's passionate about his work and utterly in love with the characters he and his team have created, and this absolutely comes across in Waypoint's piece. It makes me happy. It makes me really happy to see this.

And when I'm happy to read something, I absolutely don't mind sharing it with other people. You'll notice that I've added a direct link to the article in this piece rather than using archive.is to deprive the site of ad impressions, and this is because I firmly believe that this is the sort of thing we need to see a lot more of in the future.

I've grown very tired of writing the same article about the shitty deal Japanese games get when it comes to the Western games press, and yet every time I see another ill-informed rant on anime girls, I feel I have to say something, because not enough other people are. I'm sure you can understand and appreciate how absolutely wonderful it is to be able to share a piece of writing about the games I enjoy so much that doesn't tear them to shreds, that doesn't brand anyone who enjoys them as some sort of sexual deviant, and that does allow a creator to celebrate both the success and popularity of their work while acknowledging that it may not be to everyone's liking.

While VICE Gaming's past misdeeds mean that Waypoint has a lot of work to do in order to gain my trust, this article is very much a step in the right direction, and I think everyone — particularly those who have been angry about poor coverage of Japanese games in the past — should acknowledge that; hell, celebrate it, even.

Let's see more of this in the future, please, and less of the moral crusading. Games are fun; games are thing that people get great joy from; games cater to diverse interests and tastes. The games press of recent years seems to have forgotten that somewhat, despite regularly spouting buzzwords like "diversity" (when what they actually mean in most cases is "people who aren't white" rather than true all-encompassing diversity). But seeing articles like this gives me a glimmer of hope that we might have turned a corner.

Now we just need to see other sites follow suit — and Waypoint to continue in this manner.

[EDIT: It did not. How naive I was.]

2494: Space Rogue

I was pleasantly surprised earlier today to see GOG.com release an elderly Origin (old-school Origin the software company, not Origin the unnecessary piece of EA bloatware) title called Space Rogue.

I was particularly surprised to see Space Rogue on GOG.com, primarily because they had already released a game of the same name that had no relation to it — although in retrospect, given that a considerable amount of discussion around the newer game was along the lines of "hey, remember that old Origin game called Space Rogue?" I should have perhaps seen this coming. Still, it's a pleasant surprise regardless.

I have very fond memories of Space Rogue. It was a game from the 16-bit computer era with everything that entailed, which usually meant a box packed with stuff other than the game disks. In Space Rogue's case, there was a wonderful "in-character" manual for the spaceship you pilot in the game, complete with sarcastic notes scrawled "by hand" in the margins. I really miss this kind of thing; the only place we tend to get "feelies" like this any more is in limited edition releases of games, and those tend to be considerably more expensive than standard editions.

But I digress. Space Rogue was an interesting game for its blend of genres — part space sim, part RPG. Origin proved themselves to be masters of both over the years — with their most well-known series including Wing Commander (space sim) and Ultima (RPG) — but Space Rogue was an early example of mashing the two together, which makes it, to date, still pretty distinctive in its respective genres. Sure, titles like Star Citizen, No Man's Sky and Elite have all taken a few tentative strides in the direction of allowing you to get out of your ship and do stuff other than fly around, but none yet have captured what Space Rogue did, which was include a fully-featured "walking around" mode as well as its 3D polygonal space flight sequences.

Details of the plot of Space Rogue elude me, though there are odd bits that I still remember. Of particular note was a lengthy sequence that I was thoroughly enamoured with as a youngster in which you play messenger boy between two sisters living on different space stations. The sequence culminates with one of the sisters throwing her arms around you and thanking you for all your hard work. I found this to be a satisfying conclusion to the episode, even presented purely in text as it was.

I also remember the space stations having various different designs, and greatly enjoying the experience of landing on the one that looked like an aircraft carrier in space. Elite Dangerous does very good space station docking sequences, but 20 years ago, Space Rogue was my favourite.

I also remember the spaceflight sequences having a peculiar "Newtonian" movement option, in which rather than adopt the usual space sim convention of always thrusting forwards and simply turning the direction you're moving, you could spin your ship around and face one direction while moving in another, allowing you to, say, shoot enemies who were on your tail while running away from them.

Due to technological limitations of the time, not all of the space flight sequences took place from the 3D cockpit view. Long-range navigation unfolded from a top-down map that clearly used the same engine as the on-foot segments. While relatively primitive in comparison to the 3D graphics, it gave the game a good feeling of "context" and of moving across vast distances.

I have no idea if Space Rogue is still a good game, but I'm interested to try it again anyway. While it's not a game that ever went down in any Great Gaming History books or whatever, it's nonetheless a game I consider to be a defining experience in my youth, and as such even if it plays like a dog in 2016, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for it.

2493: Japan's Great Games, and Their Lack of Coverage

This tweet from the Editor-in-Chief of gaming news site DualShockers caught my attention earlier tonight:

The Japanese gaming industry produces a ton of great games every year, and the western press systematically proceeds to ignore 95% of them.

— Giuseppe Nelva (@Abriael) November 16, 2016

As regular readers will know, I'm a big fan of Japanese games and visual novels and will frequently wax lyrical at great length on the subject of my favourite titles. Hell, I even set up a whole new website — MoeGamer — to have a convenient place to put my more in-depth commentary on games that I've found particularly interesting.

Over the last couple of years — in particular since I started my JPgamer column on USgamer, and subsequently moved on to my MoeGamer project after I was laid off from the site — I've gotten to know a fair few "faraway friends" on the Internet thanks to a mutual love of games from Japan. And all of them — including me — feel the same way: it's sad that almost the entirety of a whole country's output gets thrown under the bus, usually in the name of "progressiveness", and usually with woefully little understanding of the works they have cast aside.

Sure, the Final Fantasies (except XIV) and Souls games of the world still get plenty of column inches, but the rest, as Nelva points out in his tweet, is ignored at best, and treated appallingly at worst.

I found Nelva's tweet noteworthy because it's the first time I recall seeing a member of the games press (aside from me) come out with sentiments like this, outside of sites that specifically dedicate themselves to this sort of thing. As such, I thought it worth talking about a bit, and to draw particular attention to a number of noteworthy developers, publishers and series that are well-regarded and regularly praised among players, but which receive less than stellar treatment from the press.

Let's talk about the Vita

Dear old PlayStation Vita. One of my favourite platforms of all time, and declared "dead" roughly every two months by some idiot who sees that there hasn't been a Call of Duty game on it since the atrocious Call of Duty: Black Ops Declassified.

As a handheld gaming machine, Vita is never going to match the big boys in terms of power, and it doesn't need to: when you're playing something on the go, aspirations of being some grand cinematic masterpiece are largely wasted on a screen the size of an envelope. And this is why we don't get any triple-A games on the platform.

What we do get is an absolute shitload of Japanese games. What we do get is an absolute shitload of Japanese role-playing games — a genre frequently and erroneously declared "dead" alongside the Vita by people who don't know what they're talking about. What we also get is a bunch of visual novels and strategy games. And this is just Japan we're talking about, remember; all this is on top of all the great indie titles we get from Western developers.

There are a number of developers out there who put out their games on Vita as their lead (or only!) platform. And if these games got any coverage, it would be plain as day to see that the Vita is far from dead; there are plenty of great new games coming out for it on a monthly basis, many of which hail from Japan.

Let's talk about "progressiveness"

It's the current fashion in the games press to be as "progressive" as possible. That is to say, it's fashionable to berate any games that feature attractive women or any kind of provocative, adult-leaning content as "problematic", in the hope that frequent use of that word will make these critics look somehow educated and intelligent. In practice, all it does is undermine the other big argument these people make, which is that "games need to grow up". You can have one or the other. You can treat gamers as adults and trust them to handle provocative content, or you can sanitise the medium to such a degree that everything becomes generic, inoffensive waffle.

The ironic thing about the supposed "progressive" arguments against these games — particularly against the ones that feature attractive women — is that they completely fail to explore the game on anything other than the most superficial level. It is, quite simply, "this game has women in short skirts with big boobs, so it's bad". This isn't an exaggeration; this is a paraphrase of several Senran Kagura articles I've read from "progressive" games journalists.

As I've written at great length over on MoeGamer, I find it interesting that a lot of these games from Japan actually handle some pretty weighty themes throughout, and do so sensitively and enjoyably. In some cases, games, much like anime, allow creators to explore aspects of society that are still somewhat "taboo" in parts of Japan, such as homosexual relationships.

Others set a great example by having an all-female cast, often with no mention of men or romantic entanglements whatsoever.

Others still have a point to make with their erotic or quasi-erotic content; a while back, for example, I wrote a lengthy piece about how Criminal Girls uses its S&M-themed ecchi content to reinforce the narrative's key message about trust. Or there are works like visual novel The Fruit of Grisaia, in which its erotic content is used as part of the characterisation process, particularly when it comes to the character Amane, who is an aggressively sexual individual for reasons that become apparent later in her narrative arc.

In damning the majority of Japan's cultural output on the grounds of "progressiveness", the self-proclaimed "progressives" are ironically missing out on some of the most progressive games out there.

Let's talk about Falcom

Let's talk a bit about Falcom first of all. Falcom is a developer who has been around since pretty much the dawn of gaming, with its long-running Ys series arguably playing a defining role in the modern action RPG.

Of perhaps even greater note, meanwhile, the most recent installments in the Legend of Heroes series — Trails in the Sky and Trails of Cold Steel — are absolute masterworks in how to blend the best bits of Western and Eastern RPGs. They're well-written with excellent characterisation (though admittedly too wordy for some), they have some of the most astonishingly detailed worldbuilding I've ever seen in a game through a combination of their visuals and their texts, and they're simply great games, to boot. And yet, it's rare to hear them mentioned, even by self-professed JRPG enthusiasts in the press.

Why? Well, at least partly because they were on PSP and Vita as their lead platforms, though Trails in the Sky's two currently available localised chapters have made the jump to PC since then. It goes back to what we said about the Vita before; it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you don't cover the games, the platform withers, though at least in the case of the Trails series, there's the formidable combination of XSEED's enthusiastic social media team and plenty of fans who are more than happy to promote the series via word of mouth.

But it saddens me that there are probably a whole lot of people out there who have no idea that these games exist, or have no idea quite how good they are. That, surely, is the press doing these games a great disservice.

Let's talk about Neptunia

And Idea Factory in general, while we're on.

Idea Factory and its label Compile Heart have been very prolific over the last few years, and it's fair to say that in the twilight of the PS3 era it took a while for them to find their feet. Titles such as Trinity Universe and Hyperdimension Neptunia were very much inferior to much of the platform's other fare in technical terms, though those who played them will happily attest that they are both overflowing with charm to more than make up for their technological shortcomings.

Unfortunately, some people have never got past a bad experience they had with a game a few years back, and seemingly outright refuse to cover new titles from a company that has grown astronomically in popularity over the last few years — and, moreover, a company that has clearly learned from its mistakes, with each new game being better than the last by a considerable margin.

This is most clearly demonstrated by the Neptunia series, which has gone from unknown niche-interest JRPG to full-on cultural phenomenon over the course of the last six years or so. People online love Neptunia. There's fan art everywhere, there are role-players on Twitter, there are mods for popular Steam games to insert the characters, there are people using Source Filmmaker to create their own Neptunia dioramas and videos — and, of course, there are the games, which tend to enjoy solid sales on console platforms (typically Vita, though the most recent mainline installment jumped to PS4) and then again a few months down the line when they hit PC.

Neptunia games still aren't the most technologically advanced games on the market, but what they have always had since day one is an absolute ton of soul — not to mention the aforementioned progressiveness thanks to homosexual characters and a strongly capable all-female main cast — and something which is very much underexplored in gaming as a whole: satirical humour. Their developers know what the players want from a Neptunia game, and they provide it. And they are widely loved as a result.

Coverage? Some idiot on Kotaku writing about how the animated Live2D character sprites in the dialogue sequences freak them out. And little else.

I love Neptunia, as you know. But even if I didn't, it would seem very strange to me not to acknowledge something that is so popular on the Internet at large that it's frequent meme fodder. And yet that's exactly what happens with today's games press: it doesn't fit the unwritten criteria, so it doesn't get explored.

Let's talk about overlooked games

I played through the visual novel Root Letter recently and had a great time with it. I only knew about it because it happened to catch my eye one day when I was browsing the publisher's other works. I've barely seen a peep about it on other websites. I, meanwhile, wrote a bunch about it here.

In the case of Root Letter, the press can't even play the progressive booby card to refuse to cover it: Root Letter has no ecchi content whatsoever, instead adopting an art style that features hand-drawn characters and "painted" backdrops of real locations in Japan. On top of looking beautiful, it's the start of a new series from a fairly major publisher in Japan (Kadokawa) and, judging by the speed we got an English version over here, it looks likely that we're going to see the other installments shortly after their native versions, too. Not only that, it's noteworthy in that it focuses not on a group of teenagers as many other Japanese works do, but instead on a group of 33-year olds.

Let's talk about why this happens

We all know why this happens: clicks. What games critic has time to cover obscure Japanese games when they could be raking in the clicks by posting meaningless, needless "guide content" for Watch Dogs 2 or Call of Duty? I know, I've been there, done that.

The thing is, this approach to content strategy becomes a vicious cycle. These games remain popular at least partly because they're always plastered all over the major gaming sites, and the relentless pursuit of This Tuesday's Article On The Big Game That Came Out Last Week does damage to gaming criticism as a whole because it gives needless amounts of attention to titles that already have a ton of attention on them thanks to their astronomical marketing budgets.

What I'd really like to see is more sites making a specific effort to go out of their way to cover games that are a little more off the beaten track, but which still have cultural significance of some sort — whether it's the popularity of something like Neptunia, or the self-conscious maturity of Root Letter — and helping to broaden the medium for everyone. Some sites already make an effort to cover Western indie games in this regard, and while there are occasionally some questions to be asked over whether certain games would be covered if the developer and the writer weren't friends with one another, I feel it's more important to note that this is a start.

While we're on, what I'd also like to see is a complete end to the mockery of Japanese games in the press, particularly by those who clearly have no intention of attempting to engage with a game. No-one should be mocking anyone else's taste — particularly those in positions of power as "tastemakers"; live and let live.

The insufferable "progressive" crowd are always going on about "diversity", so what I would very much like to see is an acknowledgement of Japan in 2016 as part of that diversity. There's still a rich flow of quality games coming out of that country on a monthly basis, and as Nelva noted in that tweet that sparked off this whole entry, very few of them that don't have Souls or Fantasy in their title get a look-in. Wouldn't it be great to see that change?

I'm not going to hold my breath, mind you. In the meantime, well, I'll do what I can with MoeGamer — so please, show your support if you like what you see.