1998: Fist of the Father

Final Fantasy XIV's new raid dungeon Alexander launched earlier this week, and our regular raid group (with a few tweaks) took our first steps in there this evening.

I'd heard Alexander was significantly easier than The Binding Coil of Bahamut and was mildly concerned about this, but there are two things that set my mind at rest, having run through the first area now: 1) it's not easy, though it's straightforward enough once you know what to do, and 2) "Savage" mode is coming in a couple of weeks for the truly hardcore. (And it has different loot from the sound of things, too, unlike the Savage mode of Second Coil of Bahamut, which was largely a "bragging rights" sort of situation.)

I wasn't quite sure what to expect from Alexander. The concept itself is pretty weird: an iron giant raises itself out of the water in the Dravanian Hinterlands, but stops moving just as its hand grasps the bank. Through a convoluted series of interactions with the local goblins, you manage to find a way through the portal that is in its hand, and start working your way through in an attempt to find and destroy the core; the giant, it seems, is a Primal, and while it's active, even if it's not moving, it threatens to suck the very life out of the land.

Once inside you're in a cool, mechanical and metal environment. It's a big contrast from the previous raid dungeon, which made heavy use of the neon-glowing Allagan aesthetic, but since Heavensward as a whole has a lot of neon-glowing Allagan stuff just in its normal content, it seems the devs made the wise decision to not continue down this road with the new raid. Fine by me.

The bosses so far are appropriately steampunky in nature, and unlike Coil, which tends to be a short run to a single boss, the first level of Alexander features two bosses. The first is pretty much a pushover, but it's fun that it's more than just a single thing to fight. The main boss of the level, meanwhile, is a fairly involved fight that demands everyone knows what to do and performs their role appropriately. It's a little more forgiving than Coil was — mistakes are less likely to immediately wipe the whole group, though they will put you all at a disadvantage — but still challenging. We managed to clear it within a couple of hours, though, and even went back in to go get some more loot for those who lost the rolls after we'd finished.

We're hopefully going to jump in and see some more of it over in the weekend; I'm curious to see what mechanical mysteries the later levels have in store, and excited to be running with my regular group again.

1996: Daylight

I gave the PS4 horror game Daylight a go this evening. It was super-cheap thanks to a hefty discount on PlayStation Plus, and I'd always found the concept to be interesting, so I felt like giving it a shot, even though its reviews hadn't been all that positive. (But when have I, a proud Hyperdimension Neptunia fan, ever cared what reviews thought of a game?)

Daylight's unique selling point is that it's a procedurally generated horror game. What this means in practice is that the various environments you wander through as you piece together the fragmented story are chopped and changed around a bit with each playthrough. I've only done a single playthrough so far — it's pretty short — so I can't say with confidence quite how much it's different each time around, but I can see how it would make changes without altering the fundamental structure and "journey" that the protagonist goes through.

Daylight casts you in the first-person role of Sarah. We don't know much about Sarah upon starting the game, save for the fact that she's woken up in what appears to be a ruined hospital, and some random dude with a frankly villainous voice is talking to her through her cellphone, which she has the good sense to use as a torch to light the darkness. (It's also a handy minimap.)

Gameplay is, I am assured, somewhat of the Slenderman mould, in that the vast majority of what you are doing throughout the game is picking up notes with various bits of Plot on them while attempting to fend off the unwanted attentions of various lurking horrors and ultimately unlocking the way to the next area. In Daylight's, case, you achieve this by collecting a particular number of "remnants" — notes and memos scattered around the area — until a "sigil" unlocks in a creepy room covered in strange symbols, and you must then take the sigil to a locked door to open it and proceed to the next area. The game alternates between these "scavenger hunt" sequences and calmer puzzle areas until you eventually reach the game's conclusion.

There's no combat in the game; this is a horror game in the Amnesia mould, in which just being near an enemy is enough to hurt you. However, there are several means of dealing with them rather than just running away screaming: simply making sure you're not looking at them keeps you safe, for one, but if you do happen to find yourself face to face with one of these bloody horrors, lighting a flare will cause them to combust in a satisfying fwoof of supernatural smoke and fire. These flares are, naturally, in rather limited supply — you can only carry four at once — so on occasion, it's better to try and avoid trouble rather than defeat your foes. You also can't use flares while you're carrying the sigil for an area, so it's a good idea to find the exit before you pick up the sigil just so you can make a break for it.

Like a lot of horror games, Daylight's story is piecemeal and leaves a lot up to interpretation — perhaps a little too much. It's not especially clever like the stories of its genremates in the Silent Hill series, and it's riddled with cliches, but it was enjoyable enough to pick through and come up with a few theories about, and it had a nicely creepy atmosphere to the whole thing.

Not the best horror game I've ever played, then, but an interesting one, nonetheless, and worth giving a shot to while it's cheap on PSN.

1993: The Joy of Smaller Games

You know me by now; I enjoy a good 100+ hour RPG that I can sink my teeth into over a long period of time, but I'm often reminded quite how much a short, simple, straightforward game can hit the spot on occasion.

There's a lot of different places you can get this sort of experience, but I've been finding it particularly pleasant on the PlayStation 4 recently — thanks in part to freebies delivered through PlayStation Plus, and partly simply due to the selection of excellent, low-cost indie titles available on the platform.

Triple-A junkies are quick to whinge about the number of indie titles on PS4, particularly when they show up as PlayStation Plus freebies — they're seen as "less valuable" somehow — but, in actual fact, the PS4 is a good home to them. Not only is the Dual Shock 4 eminently suitable for fast-paced arcade games — which a lot of these titles, which tend to channel retro sensibilities somewhat, err on the side of — but social features like the screenshot sharing, online leaderboards and live video broadcasting make otherwise solo experiences into much more compelling prospects that can be shared with others.

Most recently, I've been particularly enjoying a couple of games, and in many ways they are polar opposites of one another.

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The first is a title called Woah Dave, an Atari 2600-style platformer from the people who created the Bit Trip series a while back. Woah Dave is a deceptively simple but enormously addictive take on the Mario Bros/Bubble Bobble formula in that all you have to do is survive for as long as possible while fending off never-ending waves of enemies. You can jump, you can pick up things, you can throw them. That's it. It gets more frantic as you progress, and the only reason to play is to try and get a high score. And that is reason enough.

Woah Dave is testament to the fact that strong gameplay will always be compelling and enjoyable, regardless of technical proficiency. That said, while the game looks like a mess of gigantic pixels in about 8 colours, it runs at a silky smooth framerate, with extremely responsive controls and a very enjoyable overall "feel" to the whole experience. It's dumb and it's silly and it's shallow, but it's a lot of fun.

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The other game I've been playing a bit recently is a shoot 'em up called Astebreed. I was a big fan of this when it originally released on PC, so I decided to "double dip" on the PlayStation 4 version, and haven't been disappointed.

Astebreed is a beautiful-looking, 1080p, 60 frames per second cinematic shoot 'em up in which you pilot a giant mecha with some unconventional weapons systems as you attempt to fend off the unwanted advances of alien race the Filune. Along the way you learn more about their human experimentation and the true fate of your adoptive father and his two daughters, who have been made into living parts of a Filune reality alteration system that has the potential to be used as a deadly weapon.

The plot is pure anime — and, frankly, a little difficult to follow, given that a lot of it unfolds while the action is coming thick and fast on screen, leaving little time to read subtitles — but it's snappy, pacy, dramatic and even a little emotional. Unlockable documents that you can read after clearing the game once show that the game world, setting and backstory have been very comprehensively fleshed out, too, and the whole experience is wonderfully polished until it shines.

I'm still rubbish at it, though.

1992: The Essence of a Great RPG

I've been playing some Omega Quintet and Final Fantasy XIV today. I've technically "finished" both of them from a story perspective, but both have an "endgame" that you can keep playing after the main story is completed. In Omega Quintet's case, it's an opportunity to take on some challenging quests that require you to defeat very strong enemies as well as clean up any loose ends you might have left behind such as the optional "Training Facility" dungeon; in Final Fantasy XIV's case, it's a matter of gearing up and/or levelling other classes, largely in preparation for future content additions such as the imminent raid Alexander.

Playing both of these games from this perspective today made me come to something of a realisation: the essence of a truly great RPG — or, perhaps more accurately, one that I will doubtless think back on particularly fondly long after I've finished, even if it might not be critically acclaimed or widely beloved — is twofold: firstly, it has to draw me in and captivate me with its story and/or characters, then after that, the mechanics have to stand up to hours of play. If both of these things are true, I will happily spend hundreds — even thousands, in the case of Final Fantasy XIV — of hours on the game in question.

There are quite a lot of games that have fallen into this category for me over the years. Gust's Ar Tonelico series is one, for example; while there's not really an "endgame" in any of its three installments, they do have multiple endings that necessitate additional playthroughs (or strategic saving). Compile Heart's Neptunia series is another; with pretty much all of the games in that series (with the exception of the very first and the idol sim Hyperdimension Neptunia PP, which I fully intend to go back to at some point soon) I've seen fit to exhaust absolutely everything they have to offer rather than playing them through once and being done with them. Both Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory and Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth1 took up well over a hundred hours of my life, for example.

Most recently, as previously noted, Omega Quintet has been keeping me busy in this regard. Omega Quintet has such a pleasing blend of story, characterisation and hugely enjoyable mechanics — its battle system is one of my favourite takes on turn-based combat I think I've ever seen — that I find it fun to just boot up and have a few fights in. The fact that the endgame section rewards you with massive amounts of experience for many of the battles, allowing you to level the girls up to ridiculous power levels — there doesn't appear to be the usual level cap of 99 in place — makes for a hugely satisfying experience. Enemies that once caused me considerable grief can now be defeated relatively easily — though pleasingly, Omega Quintet, particularly on its hardest difficulty, isn't afraid to smack you about a bit every so often if you get a bit cocky; I think I've had more "Game Over" screens in the endgame than I did throughout the whole story, and it's usually been because I made foolish assumptions that I was then punished for.

The only trouble with finding games that I want to spend hundreds of hours with in this way is that it means beating a single game to my satisfaction takes a hell of a long time. Still, I guess it means I shouldn't run out of things to play any time soon, huh? And that's quite a nice feeling.

1990: Idols' Journey

Having finished the main story of Heavensward, I returned to Omega Quintet this evening in the hopes that I would be able to polish off the "true ending". I succeeded, though this isn't the end of my time with the game just yet: there's the optional "training facility" dungeon, which features some of the toughest monsters in the game, and there's a bunch of sidequests that open up even after the "final" boss. I'm undecided as to whether or not I'm going to pursue the Platinum trophy, as a few of the trophies are a bit grindy, but I probably will end up going for it.

As for the true ending — oh, spoilers ahead, by the way — it was a satisfying conclusion.

For context, the "normal" ending was surprisingly downbeat, even bleak, leaving the story with a somewhat bittersweet ending that didn't really leave any of the characters in a situation that could really be called "happily ever after". Aria was revealed to have become a Blare when she was attacked prior to the events of the game, with the Blare in question effectively devouring her emotions and turning her into the seemingly morose individual she is depicted as throughout the main narrative. Said Blare is revealed to be the cat-like creature that had been following her around for the whole game, and this obnoxious little creature "awakens" Aria to her true Blare self.

This sets up the final confrontation of the normal ending, where the depleted ranks of the Verse Maidens, now a quartet rather than the quintet they had been for the majority of the game, have to strike down their former friend, who is, it becomes clear, utterly beyond help. But even after she's defeated, the people of the city no longer trust the Verse Maidens thanks to Aria having tricked them for so long, and as such they're doomed to a life of unappreciated toil, fighting back the Blare for a populace that hates them.

The true ending takes this as a starting point but makes a few changes. When the time comes to fight Aria, she doesn't completely lose herself and transform into the "Avatar of Destruction" she becomes in the normal ending. Instead, the Verse Maidens strike her down but refuse to eliminate her, instead dragging her back to their headquarters despite her protestations — but not before "Pet" has revealed its true nature and threatened to bring even greater chaos to a world that is already practically in ruin.

It's a slow route to healing for the populace, but eventually they come to accept and support Aria once again, as her mysterious nature had always meant she was one of the more popular members of the quintet. Ultimately, the girls discover that Pet's plan is to gather as many Blare as possible in one place and attempt to control them in the name of "fun"; Pet, having consumed Aria's original cheerful personality but lacking the emotional maturity to know how to handle it correctly or appropriately, is more concerned with entertaining herself than any great master plan, and it eventually transpires that she neither knows what to do with all the Blare once she gathers them in the city's Central Tower, nor is she really able to control them effectively.

Thus begins the true final battle, first against Pet, who eventually admits defeat and volunteers to try and get rid of the trouble she caused following an epiphany brought on by having the shit kicked out of her, and subsequently against a gigantic, horrible monster that appears as Pet allows herself to be completely consumed by the Blare she summoned. The Verse Maidens are ultimately triumphant over this fearsome foe, and a convenient side-effect of the fact that it was made up of so many Blare concentrated in one place means that their conflict all but frees the city itself from the oppression of the Blare.

The world still has some healing to do, however; the story ends with protagonist Takt and one of the five girls (you get to choose) setting out on a grand journey into the wider world, clearing out the Blare as they go and discovering a new-found appreciation for one another. The post-final boss gameplay, meanwhile, unfolds before this happens, and sees Takt and the Verse Maidens — plus their predecessor Momoka, who manages to come out of retirement thanks to a useful bit of experimental technology — attempting to clear up the last few stragglers around the area of the city and continuing their work as Verse Maidens, bringing hope to the people.

It was an enjoyable ending and the final boss battles were pretty great; the last one in particular had some superb music. I'm interested to see what the post-game has to offer now; the Training Facility dungeon promises to be a stiff challenge, and there's proficiencies to level up, affection to increase, archives to find and quests to complete, so I think even though I've technically "finished" the game there's still probably a fair amount left to do!

To cut a long story short, Omega Quintet is an excellent RPG that I'm very glad I took the time to play. It's another in a long line of titles from Compile Heart that has helped cement this quirky Japanese developer's position in my mind as one of my absolute favourite game makers out there, and I have to feel a little sorry for those people who can't find joy in their colourful, humorous, witty games that are absolutely bursting with character and soul.

1988: The End of Ascalon

Finished the Heavensward main story quest today. WOW.

Spoilers ahead!

I was pleased that the team went all-out and gave us a full-on Final Fantasy finale. The final dungeon, the Aetherochemical Research Facility, gradually gets weirder and weirder as you progress through it, until you eventually reach what is clearly The Final Boss Room, in which you're set upon by not one but two Ascians, the dark-robed ne'er-do-wells whose evil machinations have been behind most of the Bad Things happening in Eorzea throughout the Final Fantasy XIV narrative.

Delightfully, this battle against the Ascians even does the typical Final Fantasy thing of unfolding across multiple forms, with the "merged" form of the two Ascians creating "Ascian Prime" and battering you with some of the most spectacular attacks in the entire game. Lest you thought that Final Fantasy XIV would lose some of the series' trademark spectacle owing to the fact that its multiplayer nature makes cinematic camera angles and lengthy spell sequences impractical, this confrontation very much dispels that notion.

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That's not the end, though. The battle against Ascian Prime — the conclusion of which finally sees recurring villain Lahabrea apparently dealt with once and for all — is followed up by an eight-player Trial in the research facility's Singularity Reactor, in which you face off against Ishgard's Archibishop, Heavensward's main villain.

This being Final Fantasy, however, you don't just fight a doddering old man with an obscene amount of hit points. No; shortly before your battle with him, he draws upon the power of the Eyes of Nidhogg to channel the spirit of Ishgard's legendary king Thorden — he who, with his knights twelve, originally laid Nidhogg low and took the great wyrm's eyes — and become a Primal incarnation of the ancient king. Naturally, this involves him growing to approximately ten storeys in height in the process, and his bodyguards, the twelve knights of the Heaven's Ward (do you see what they did there) undergo similar transformations prior to your final battle against the whole sorry lot of them.

The actual battle against Thorden and the knights is amazing. Final Fantasy veterans will doubtless recognise this setup as an excuse to bring in the notorious summon "Knights of the Round", and indeed the final boss battle is effectively you fighting Knights of the Round, complete with ridiculously overblown attack animations — including, at one point, the reactor in which you're fighting seemingly floating up into space, then your entire screen shattering to bring you back to reality. (This animation is pretty much a direct reference to Knights of the Round's appearance in Final Fantasy VII, whose attack animation "Ultimate End" was the most powerful ability you could equip your characters with in the whole game.)

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It's a fitting end for Heavensward's story, which has overall been a great addition to the ranks of Final Fantasy narratives throughout history. And it leaves some nice open teaser threads at the end ready for future content patches and the continuation of the story — most notably the character Estinien's possession by the spirit of Nidhogg, the latter of whom is understandably pissed off at the world for numerous reasons, not least of which being the fact that he had his eyes scooped out, and some thousand years later, was killed by some young upstart claiming to represent the spirit of the planet itself.

Anyway. It was good stuff, and sets the scene nicely for the launch of the new raid dungeon Alexander, which must be due pretty soon now. (Indeed, the ending cutscene shows Alexander rising out of the water in the Dravanian Hinterlands, though it is as yet impossible to enter the great iron giant.)

I'm glad I beat the story (and the two "post-ending" dungeons Neverreap and The Fractal Continuum, both of which are a lot of fun — and pleasingly challenging) and am looking forward to seeing what's next. In the meantime, I have an official full-on review of the expansion to write for Gamespot, so watch out for that soon.

1987: At the Gates of Heaven

Back to "reality" for Andie and I now, and we're both closing in on the finale of the main story quest in Heavensward. It's been a pretty spectacular journey up until this point, which I shall endeavour not to spoil to a significant degree in this post, largely because I don't yet know how it all ends.

Heavensward has achieved that which I wasn't sure it would be able to do: it's surpassed A Realm Reborn in almost every possible way, but particularly when it comes to the main story. While A Realm Reborn had a solid narrative that chronicled your character's humble beginnings up to their awakening as the Warrior of Light and beyond, taking in their victories over the fierce Primals of Eorzea and the Empire's ultimate weapon in the process, I found the Final Fantasy XII-style political manoeuvring that made up a significant part of the plot to be less interesting than something a bit more, for want of a better word, "JRPG".

Heavensward, meanwhile, feels more like a "Final Fantasy". This isn't to say that A Realm Reborn didn't feel like Final Fantasy at all — I described it as one of the best new Final Fantasies in recent years back when I reviewed it for USgamer, after all — but Heavensward feels more like a traditional Final Fantasy.

It achieves this in a number of different ways. For one, it tones down the political machinations that gradually built up over the course of A Realm Reborn, and which came to a rather shocking climax at the end of patch 2.55, Before the Fall, which acted as a prelude to Heavensward. These narrative threads are picked up and explored further — though some look as if they're going to remain unresolved until a later content patch — but for the most part Heavensward is an all-original story.

For another, the narrative feels more like an epic journey. In A Realm Reborn, you spent a lot of your time going back and forth between the three main areas, and, aside from the initial quest where you leave your starting city to go and visit the other two, it didn't really feel like the typical JRPG journey of gradually getting further and further away from your starting point, with more and more outlandish things happening as you go. Heavensward, meanwhile, does adopt this style of journey, beginning in the familiar snowy wastes of Coerthas, some of which we had the opportunity to explore in A Realm Reborn, but before long giving way to the lush forests and rocky mountains of the Dravanian Forelands, the otherworldly floating islands of the Churning Mists and the Sea of Clouds, the mysterious abandoned city of the Dravanian Hinterlands — an important location to Final Fantasy XIV lore as a whole, as it turns out — and, ultimately, a final region which doesn't feel at all like a typical MMO field, instead very much feeling like an authentic JRPG The Very Definitely Final Dungeon.

The journey you undertake throughout the narrative is emphasised by some lovely narration from David Warner upon your first entry to each area. A Realm Reborn had plenty of florid prose, but Heavensward refines this with some almost poetic writing that gives the game a very distinctive voice and tone throughout. It feels strange to compliment the writing in an MMO, a type of game not particularly known for stellar storytelling (Hi, World of Warcraft!) but Heavensward really doesn't skimp on this front, and it's all the stronger for it.

I'm really looking forward to seeing how the story ends — and, of course, getting involved with what comes after that. It can't be long now until the launch of the new raid dungeon Alexander, and I'm very intrigued to see how all that fits in with the overall lore. Previous raid The Binding Coil of Bahamut turned out to be extremely relevant to the original game's lore — and even more relevant to Heavensward, as it happens — so I'm looking forward to experiencing Alexander's encounters and story to see what happens.

For now, though, I'm still flagging a bit after all the excitement of the weekend, so I think it's time to get some sleep.

1983: Drifting Along

Wedding in a couple of days (well, technically tomorrow at the time of writing), but there's not a lot to say about it right now other than "it's happening on Saturday". So in an effort to write about something else — and spare you Heavensward gushing for another day or two, at least until I finish the main storyline — I thought I'd talk a little more about Drift Girls, a mobile game I discovered a short while back and have been playing at least a little bit every day ever since.

Drift Girls, lest you forget — or are unfamiliar — is an iOS and Android game by Korean developer NHN BlackPick, localised and brought to the West by a company called Toast. It's a curious little game in many ways — in some respects, it's similar to the "gacha" collectible card games that are a particular popular product of the Asian mobile development market, but in others it's entirely its own beast. Either way, it's a genuinely great, enjoyable game that I've been having a whole lot of fun with.

It's kind of a driving game, and it's kind of a dating sim. Both of those elements are intertwined, however; the girls you woo in the dating sim part of the game become passengers while you race, and different girls provide different bonuses to your car's performance. There are also other benefits to dating, too; reach the maximum affection with a girl and you have the opportunity to whisk her away for an "overnight date" with everything that implies, which makes you "feel better" and improve your vehicle's performance by a significant amount for the following day.

One of the interesting things about the game, though, is the fact that each and every one of the girls in the cast feels like they've had some effort put into their writing — not just in an attempt to show that they have a personality, but to make them feel like they're all part of the game world. As you get to know each of the girls, it becomes apparent that some of them know one another, and you'll often get to know several sides of what initially appeared to be a fairly simple story. Later in the game, too, as the overarching main scenario storyline starts to pick up speed with international smuggling, the Mafia and all manner of other silliness, you get the opportunity for another perspective on events by building up a relationship with the lead detective and prosecutor on the case.

The fact that there's an ongoing narrative and each of the girls clearly has their own little mini-story to work through makes the dating aspect of the game far more than a simple grind to get the girl who provides the biggest bonuses as quickly as possible. Aside from that, too, a system for "exceeding the girl's limits" by completing challenges allows you to boost their stats considerably as well as uncover a bit more of their personality and story.

But what of the driving bit? Well, it's very simple, and I'm actually pretty glad of that. Full-on driving games on touchscreens suck beyond belief, so I'm extremely grateful to NHN BlackPick for taking a greatly simplified approach: all you have to do is rev your engine to get a good start, then time your drifts left or right as you enter a corner, then occasionally set off an nitro boost to go a bit faster. In many ways, it has more in common with a rhythm game than a driving game, but it manages to be genuinely exciting, with some lovely graphics, cinematic camera angles and cheesy but entirely appropriate throbbing dance music in the background.

The metagame is fun, too. While there is a "gacha" mechanic for drawing new cars and parts to attach to them, where I've found the most fun is in taking the car I started with — a "one-star" Mini-equivalent — and gradually building it up to remain competitive as the opponents in the game get stronger and stronger. So far I've successfully upgraded it to "four-star" standard, which is enough for story missions now, but I'm starting to run into a few situations where it's not quite enough to beat tough opponents.

I compared this type of mobile game to a more traditional MMO a while back, and having spent probably more time with Drift Girls than any other mobile game of its type — along with my hefty experience with Final Fantasy XIV — I stand by that statement. The gradual creep of power; the joy of getting to a point where you can afford a new piece of equipment or get lucky with an item drop; the feeling of progression; the necessity to keep on the "gear treadmill" to continue to progress — all of these things are typical MMO characteristics that are very much present in Drift Girls, and they make for a compelling, addictive experience that has stuck around in my consciousness a lot longer than I thought it would after the initial "haha, wtf is this" appeal wore off.

Turns out it's actually a really good game. So I think I might just sneak in a quick race or two before I go to sleep tonight…

1980: A Right Way and A Wrong Way

I know I said I wouldn't write about Heavensward again today and I'm not going to focus on it too much, but it will enter into the discussion a little, for reasons that will shortly become apparent.

The separately-sold "expansion pack" as it existed in the '90s and early '00s is something of a rarity these days, typically confined to the MMORPG subgenre, while other types of games tend to leverage the high-speed Internet connections most people have these days by offering lots of smaller bits of piecemeal downloadable content.

In some ways, this works well; the "a la carte" approach of piecemeal DLC means that you can pick and choose the things you want to bolt onto your game for a lower price without potentially being stuck with some things you don't want. On the flip side, however, in my experience, a lot of DLC — though not all — is significantly less substantial in terms of content and value for money than your average expansion pack. There are exceptions, of course — Oblivion's Shivering Isles DLC springs to mind, as does Burnout Paradise's additional island whose name escapes me right now — but those are actually both getting back into "expansion pack" territory again, and thus are outliers to a certain degree.

Bungie's MMO shooter and "thing that isn't Halo" Destiny had its new expansion announced recently, and it's kicked up a bit of a fuss, specifically over its pricing. The base game of Destiny has plummeted in price since its original launch, meaning that the new expansion — which costs the same as a full game at £40/$60ish — will, in most cases, be more expensive than the main game. But that's not what's got people riled up: the problem is that there's a super-expensive "Collector's Edition" coming that features some exclusive content that can only be acquired through this special edition.

Nothing unusual, you might think, until you hear that the Collector's Edition is only available as a bundle deal including Destiny, its expansion and the pieces of DLC that have been released to date. This means that fans of Destiny who want to get their hands on the exclusive content pretty much have to buy the game and DLC again just to play the expansion. And the alternative means of buying the game for new players — a bundle including Destiny and its expansion for around the £55 mark — effectively means that new players are getting the expansion for considerably less than veterans.

I can't say I care a whole lot personally because Destiny simply isn't my type of game, but what surprised and dismayed me a bit about the whole situation was this interview on Eurogamer with creative director Luke Smith — a guy I don't know that well myself, but who used to work with my brother and was, as I recall, part of the 1up crew. Smith was, to my recollection, always rather outspoken about things, particularly when it came to companies doing shitty things, so it was a tad disappointing to read his responses to Eurogamer coming out as little more than PR-fed "we can't talk about this" nonsense. And if it was PR-fed, the PR company wants sacking, because Smith's responses did nothing to alleviate the concerns of players who are upset over all this, and more than likely infuriated them further.

The reason I brought up Heavensward at the beginning is because it's actually in a similar position to Destiny's expansion. Final Fantasy XIV itself can be picked up for a pretty low price these days, but Heavensward is not-quite-full-price-but-nearly. The difference, however, is that both existing and prospective players have plenty of choices of how they pick it up. They can buy A Realm Reborn and Heavensward separately. They can buy a bundle including both A Realm Reborn and Heavensward. They can buy Heavensward by itself, in standard and special editions. And they can buy most of these options in both physical and digital formats.

As such, even though Heavensward might seem expensive for an expansion pack — though it's worth noting that in terms of content, it's seriously rivalling A Realm Reborn's base game, at least in terms of story length, sidequests and open-world areas — the player base has had absolutely no objections to how it's been positioned and sold. In fact, I've seen more new players in the game in the last week or so than I have for a very long time — and those new players won't even be able to touch any of the Heavensward content until they complete A Realm Reborn and its five subsequent content patches.

But they don't mind, because they've been given options, and those options have been made clear. Where Bungie is falling down with Destiny — and where they're going to lose a lot of previously loyal players if they're not careful — is this communication side of things. Smith's responses suggested that Bungie was either unwilling or unable to listen to player concerns on these matters; it may well be a matter of the company's hands being tied by publisher Activision, but still. That's not how you build loyalty. That's how you destroy loyalty.

P.S. Heavensward is amazing. (Sorry.)

1979: One More Post Where I Gush About Heavensward, Then I'll Find Something Different To Talk About Tomorrow (Probably)

Level 56 now, and I'm starting to really get a feel for the new skills that have been added to Paladin.

Paladin often drew some criticism — or, rather, accusations of being "boring" — for the fact that it was a relatively straightforward class to play, with only two real combos of abilities to use in different circumstances compared to a much wider array of things to do if you're playing a Warrior. Its main perk over its raging counterpart, however, was its survivability; Warriors have a ton more HP than Paladins, but they also take more damage, while Paladins have fewer HP but a lot more in the way of defensive abilities to mitigate or even nullify damage.

Still, though, I understand the criticisms; once you unlocked all the abilities to form your basic combos, it very much became a case of pressing ability 1, 2, 3 and occasionally stepping out of enemy ability telegraphs. Post-50, though, things get a lot more interesting.

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The oddly-named Sheltron, for example, is an ability whose usefulness doesn't become immediately apparent. What it does is guarantee that you will block the next physical attack you take. Blocking an attack is usually determined by random chance, influenced by the stats on the shield you're wielding alongside your sword. Sheltron guarantees a block, and while blocking doesn't nullify damage altogether, it does reduce the damage by a significant amount. It also has the handy side-effect of restoring some of your magic points when the block goes off, meaning that the Riot Blade combo is no longer the only way to regenerate MP.

Blocking also allows you to counterattack with a move called Shield Swipe, which is actually one of the Paladin's more potent offensive moves, and also inflicts a status that prevents the enemy from using abilities of the "weaponskill" type. It's not quite as good as a Stun or Silence, but it can be helpful and give a moment's grace. The damage is very nice, though — particularly as it's been buffed since its original incarnation — and it also now generates aggro, meaning you're not losing out by weaving in a Shield Swipe when it's up.

The other ability I've had the opportunity to play with now is Goring Blade, which follows on from the Riot Blade combo, previously used just for regenerating magic points to allow you to keep casting Flash, your main means of controlling larger groups of enemies at once. Goring Blade, meanwhile, has a solid initial hit followed by a damage-over-time effect. Paladins don't do a lot of damage generally — it's not their role, after all — but adding the ticks of damage to what you're doing anyway — particularly if combined with other DoT effects like Circle of Scorn and Fracture — you can actually put out some fairly respectable numbers. Plus Goring Blade has like the coolest visual effect of all Paladin's moves that I've unlocked so far.

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I just reached level 56 this evening, which is a level at which I unlock another new ability. I'm not sure what it is yet, but I'm very much looking forward to finding out and experimenting with it — one of the most exciting things about the new expansion is the fact that everyone is getting these new abilities at the same time, so there isn't yet an established "right way" to do things. As such, experimentation is key, and it's really rewarding to work out an efficient use of abilities for yourself.

But anyway. That's three days in a row I've talked about Heavensward. (It's really, really, really good.) I promise I will attempt to talk about something else tomorrow. Probably. Maybe.