2232: Pondering Postgame

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I feel like I’ve become much more conscious of a lot of single-player games incorporating an almost MMO-like “endgame” these days, though pondering the matter a little further I’m not sure it’s as new a concept as I initially thought it was.

My musings on this subject are inspired by my second playthrough of Megadimension Neptunia VII, which is going considerably quicker than my 62-hour first playthrough of it thanks to its myriad of rather lovely New Game Plus features — faster run speed, higher jump height, ability to turn off random encounters and a bunch of other things besides, including the ability to instantly skip story scenes you’ve seen before — and in which I’m taking aim for the “true” ending and the subsequent postgame, which allows you to continue playing after the credits have rolled to clean up whatever it is you still want to get out of the game.

In the case of Megadimension Neptunia and numerous other games like it — largely JRPGs, with a few exceptions — the postgame is often designed with trophy collecting in mind, with some of the most challenging trophies requiring dedicated effort well above and beyond what the main story of the game demanded. In most cases, you’re not actually missing out on any story by pursuing these additional objectives; you’re simply expressing a desire to see everything the game has to offer, and to push your knowledge of its mechanics to the limit.

This is where the MMO endgame comparison comes in. Take my particular brand of MMO poison as an example: Final Fantasy XIV has a linear main scenario that takes you from level 1 to level 60 naturally, telling an interesting tale while equipping you with the skills you’ll need for high-level play. Once you reach level 60 and beat the main story you have a few choices: you can put the game down, satisfied that you’ve “finished” it; you can keep playing it to see what the new episodes of the story added in each new content patch add to the overall narrative; or you can delve into the endgame proper, which often relies less on story and more on mechanics and grinding, with the promise of significant increases in your character’s power as a reward.

This is exactly the case with modern single-player games that offer postgame content, too. In the case of Megadimension Neptunia VII, there are hidden treasures to hunt down, additional monsters to fight, challenging dungeons to clear and collectibles to… you know. There’s no actual obligation for you to take these extra challenges on if you’re satisfied with how the main story concluded, but the option is there for those who want to spend a bit more time with the game without having to worry about whether they’ll lock themselves out of something by advancing the plot too far.

As I say, I’d got into my head that this was a somewhat recent concept; when I think back to titles that I spent a lot of time with in years gone by, in many cases you had to take care of any and all of your business before you beat the final boss and rolled the credits. Take something like Final Fantasy VII, for example; once you unlock the final dungeon, pretty much the whole world is open to you, and there are a bunch of optional sidequests you can go and complete for some fairly significant rewards if you see fit, though none of them are essential to the plot, and none of them are necessary to beat the final boss. Once you do beat that final boss, though, that’s the end of the game — in RPGs of that era, you often didn’t even get to save a “clear file” to start a New Game Plus and carry over some of your achievements to a new runthrough.

But when I consider things in a bit more depth, the idea of the postgame — of an ostensibly narrative-based game remaining relevant and interesting to play even after you’ve seen the story’s finale — has been around for quite some time. Konami’s PS1 and PS2-era games, for example, often featured a ranking/score screen at the end of the game, challenging you to try it again, but do it faster/better/taking fewer hits. Other games unlocked new difficulty settings, or unlocked alternative (sometimes joke) endings. Capcom’s Resident Evil 2 took the ambitious approach of having multiple ways to experience the narrative: you could play it once as Claire, then see what Leon was up to while Claire was doing her thing; then you could play it “for the first time” again as Leon, then see what Claire was up to while Leon was doing his thing. Each of these four playthroughs, while similar, had its own unique content, making the game worth replaying — and once you’d done all that, there were the super-secret paths such as Hunk and Tofu, which mostly acted as a reward for those who had put in enough time and effort to master the game.

MMO players often describe reaching the level cap of their game of choice as “just the beginning” of your experience. And it’s very much true; pre-Heavensward Final Fantasy XIV sat at level 50 for a good couple of years, but managed to feel like it was progressing at a regular, steady rate, both in terms of new content and character power levels — and it’s doubtless the same with other MMOs that keep adding new stuff to keep level-cap players interested and engaged.

What I find interesting is the idea that a game designed primarily to tell a story — to have a clear end — can have so much beyond that story content, even if it’s a single-player game that isn’t expanded over time with new content, DLC or the like. It’s one of the many things that sets games apart from non-interactive forms of entertainment, and it’s an opportunity to enjoy a different side of a game you’ve taken pleasure in engaging with: having worked your way through the narrative, you’re now focusing on mastering the mechanics until you’re satisfied you’ve got everything you’re going to out of the game in question.

I never used to do multiple playthroughs of games — except for Final Fantasy VII, which my friends and I were borderline obsessed with in our teens — but these days, I very much enjoy exploring the postgame, trophy hunting and seeing multiple endings. Once I’m done with Megadimension Neptunia VII, I’m particularly looking forward to Dungeon Travelers 2‘s postgame; from everything I’ve heard about it, it very much takes the MMO approach of “finishing the story is just the beginning… now prove you really know how to play this game. If, you know, you want to.” — and that is something that has come to appeal to me very much over the years, even as many of my peers are getting less and less patient with lengthy, time-consuming games. I wonder what made me go the other way?

Oh well. Time for bed now; tomorrow I will find out if I’ve actually done all the arbitrary triggers that ensure I will get Megadimension Neptunia VII’s “true” ending, or if I need to do the whole bloody thing through for a third time. (That’s not actually too bad; to put it in context, while my first playthrough took 62 hours, my second playthrough has probably been no more than 3 hours so far, and I’m just coming into the third and final story arc, which puts me maybe an hour away from the “ending”.)

1419: Endgame

I can’t remember if I mentioned it on here, but I reached level 50 — the level cap — with my Black Mage class in Final Fantasy XIV a short while ago, which means that I’m now into what MMO players refer to as “endgame content”.

I’ve only ever reached the level cap in one other MMO to date — World of Warcraft — and in that instance I didn’t really explore a lot of what the endgame had to offer. In fact, I think I stopped playing not long after getting that far; I tried to return after a break when Blizzard offered a free upgrade to the Cataclysm expansion back and a free boost to the slightly-higher level cap of 85 that they introduced then, but the magic was gone, and I’ve felt no inclination to go back since.

You see, as I mentioned in that post I linked to above, for me, a key part of the appeal of MMOs — and indeed RPGs in general — is that journey you make from, quite literally, zero to hero. The road to the level cap is paved with a variety of new skills and things to learn, and by the time you reach your “pinnacle” you’re well-equipped with everything you need to survive… and continue onwards.

You see, once you hit level whatever-the-cap-is-in-your-game-of-choice, it stops being about gaining XP, and it starts being about doing other stuff. It starts being about running dungeons, acquiring new gear, taking on new challenges with friends. For those who played through most of the game solo, now is probably the time to jump off the train, because most endgame content is reliant on playing together with others, whether that’s running small-scale dungeons to get gear, or taking on raids that require larger parties.

It’s also often where the story grinds to something of a halt. In Final Fantasy’s case, “endgame” is where you’ve beaten the final boss of the main scenario quests, so the main story is indeed over. But there’s plenty of things still to do, most of which have some sort of narrative context, and if the impressive recent trailer for the upcoming patch 2.1 is anything to go by, the main scenario quests will continue to be added to with each new update every three months, which is nice.

What I’ve found interesting in the endgame stuff I played this evening, is that it lets you concentrate on the game mechanics a lot more than if you’re trying to pay attention to the story. Some MMO players play through the whole game this way, skipping cutscenes and not reading any text, but I can’t help but feel in Final Fantasy XIV’s case that this is missing the point somewhat.

Regardless, once you reach endgame you’re probably going to be running a lot of the same dungeons and other content over and over again, often with different groups of people each time. And while this might sound boring, there’s a few things to bear in mind: firstly, some people plough hundreds or even thousands of hours into games like League of Legends and Dota, and those have very few maps, and secondly the appeal isn’t necessarily in seeing new and unique content; it’s in seeing new and unique people.

I braved Final Fantasy XIV’s Duty Finder system for two runs into the “so you’ve just reached level 50, what now?” dungeon the Wanderer’s Palace this evening. My two runs were markedly different from one another, despite the monsters being in the same place and me playing exactly the same character class.

In the first case, the party was well-organised, careful and methodical. We didn’t talk much because it was clear from our behaviour that we’d all done this before, and we all knew what we were doing. Consequently, we got through the whole thing without any serious mistakes — and, more importantly, no-one dying.

Compare and contrast with the second party, in which the de facto leader — usually the “tank” class, who runs ahead to get pummelled by enemies while everyone else hangs back and throws fireballs at them — was seemingly trying to race through the dungeon as quickly as possible, and causing issues in the process. Speedruns of dungeons aren’t particularly unusual, particularly in the case of places like Wanderer’s Palace that provide a good source of material for acquiring high-level gear, but in order to be successful at them you need a well-oiled party that communicates well.

Our poor old tank wasn’t very good at speedrunning, you see, and ended up getting him — and the rest of us — into situations that it was difficult to survive. Wanderer’s Palace is particularly harsh due to the presence of an unkillable “Tonberry Stalker” enemy who runs up to you and stabs you in the throat if you enter his field of vision; on more than one occasion, the tank attracted so many enemies that we weren’t able to defeat them all before someone got throat-stabbed.

This was interesting to me. It wasn’t frustrating or annoying because everyone took it in good humour and no-one was a dick about it — a constant risk with online games — but was instead fascinating to see. I have a feeling there’s some intriguing psychological observations to be made about the different ways in which people play — and how people like me respond differently to different types of people — but I’m not sure I’m altogether qualified to make those observations.

It was also an interesting experiment for me in that throughout most of the game, I’ve played with people that I’m at least casually acquainted with. These two runs were attempts to test the water and see what it’s like playing with random strangers; you often hear horror stories of people getting together with a bunch of jerks in the Duty Finder but, aside from the tank’s clumsiness, there was nothing untoward going on, and so it’s something I’d feel comfortable doing again.

Fortunate, really, because I need one hell of a lot of Tomestones if I want to upgrade my equipment to a suitable level to be able to take on the later dungeons and boss fights…