This is excellent news, because it means I can buy a copy and not feel bad about playing it through on MiSTer. Not that I did anyway, but it will be very nice to own an actual legitimate copy and not have to pay through the nose for a cart-only SNES copy that almost certainly has a flat save battery and might not even work at all. I might even play it through again to see what improvements have been made.

For the most part, it looks as if the game is going to be kept true to its original incarnation. There's some modern-day UI fluff including bezels and an optional floating EXP window (that will be nice to have, actually) plus the promise of some new art and remastered music tracks, but we don't have many details about all that just yet. For most people, just the opportunity to own a copy of this excellent game will be enough — even if it's a modern rerelease and not the original original version.

Before anyone asks: no, I don't know if this means we'll be able to get it on Evercade. I will certainly be mentioning it to the people who make such decisions, but as I have said numerous times before, I have no control over that part of the business and thus it will simply be an emphatic suggestion. Square Enix is a company we haven't worked with as yet — although we have worked with TAITO, who are technically part of that whole conglomerate now, so I guess we sort of have. What I'd really love to see, personally, would be a cart that contains, at the very least, Soul Blazer, Illusion of Gaia and Terranigma, plus ideally Actraiser and The Granstream Saga also. Maybe one day I will be part of making that happen. We'll have to see.

But anyway! If you've never played Terranigma, you're in for a treat. If you want to know more, go check out my in-depth piece on it over on MoeGamer (linked above), but the short version is this: it's an excellent 16-bit action RPG that still looks, sounds and plays really well today. The English localisation is a little bit clunky — though nowhere near as broken as that seen in Illusion of Gaia — but it gets the incredibly ambitious storyline across, and the gameplay is absolutely wonderful.

It's nice to share some good news for once. I hope you all remember to pick up Terranigma this time, because I will not be having any mercy on you if you miss your chance this time around and then come crying to me about having to pay hundreds of quid for a copy. It's there. It's coming. You know what to do.

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The post #oneaday Day 808: Terranigma is coming back! appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

It's been a lot of fun thus far. I'm about 80 hours deep into the game, and I haven't really felt particularly "roadblocked" at any point. There have been two separate occasions where I have had help from higher-level players — once to open the "Three Mage Gate" I mentioned a few posts back, and once to help me with the fight against Siren as part of the Rhapsodies of Vana'diel series of missions that run parallel to all the main stories — but for the most part, I have successfully beaten and bashed my way through the game as a solo player using the computer-controlled "Trust" party members.

I thought I had reached a roadblock towards the end of the Rise of the Zilart storyline where you are presented with a chain of five difficult boss battles, and I was having real difficulty with a couple of them. As I'm playing a Warrior, I have been working on the assumption that I should be the main "tank", you see, and thus trying my best to ensure all enemies fixate their attention on my while my Trusts repeatedly punch them in the buttocks. This is, after all, the way things are in Final Fantasy XIV, even though mechanically the two games are otherwise quite different.

However, what I discovered in these difficult fights (the "Ark Angels" fights, to any FFXI veterans) is that being the sole human player and the main tank is not always desirable. Y'see, some high-level enemies have the ability to Charm you, and when that happens all your Trusts get unsummoned and the fight effectively resets. It's an instant "kill", in other words, and I really thought this was going to roadblock me.

Then I thought about things a bit, and wondered what might happen if I let one of the Trusts handle the tanking instead. Wouldn't you know it, those fights suddenly went much more smoothly. I could keep dealing damage — which, besides tanking, is the other thing FFXI Warrior is good at — while Trust-y Valaineral the Paladin took the brunt of everything the boss threw at a single target, including that pesky Charm. And, because I also had Kupipi the White Mage and King Of Hearts the Red Mage in my party, they cleansed that status off him pretty quickly. I only really came close to failing in one of the fights, where everyone got Silenced and Valaineral got knocked down because no-one could heal him. Thankfully, this happened late enough in the fight that the remaining party members, including me, were able to finish the job.

By contrast, the actual final boss of Rise of the Zilart was very easy indeed. Granted, I was probably a few levels higher than "intended" for this encounter — Final Fantasy XI isn't particularly rigorous about locking stuff to particular level restrictions, particularly in the main story sequences — but it was still pretty straightforward. Fun, though; it was satisfying to finally bring down a "big bad" who had been taunting me for some time.

Now I'm on to the Chains of Promathia expansion, which a lot of longtime players seem to think is one of the best bits. It makes the curious decision to base the early hours of its story around the level 30 mark, rather than assuming you would be at the level you're probably at around the conclusion of Rise of the Zilart — 75+ — but I assume that things ramp up pretty quickly, as the official "content guide" on the Final Fantasy XI website recommends the expansion as an activity for level 75+ players.

I'm really glad I've done this! I'm going to write a big, detailed article about my experiences over on MoeGamer when I'm finally done with everything I want to do in the game, but for now, my feelings are that, in terms of gameplay, progression and a general sense of adventure, this is actually one of the very best Final Fantasy games. Yes, it is the very epitome of a "guide dang-it" game, in which you will almost certainly not get very far without looking some stuff up, but the moment-to-moment gameplay, the overall sense of progression and the fact that it feels like a Final Fantasy game, arguably a lot more so than XIV, has really left me with a big grin on my face. I'm looking forward to seeing what the rest of the game has to offer.

I have played pretty much all day, though, so I should probably stop for now, though, right? Probably…

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The post #oneaday Day 717: Putting down the Zilart appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

You get a quest, it will inevitably involve finding some object that is a relatively low-chance drop from a very specific monster that is deep in part of a dungeon that is exceedingly inconvenient to get to.

You reach the level cap, you have to complete one of these quests every five levels until you reach 99 — though thankfully you only have to do this once per character, not once per job.

You get your "subjob", to add abilities from a second job to your main one, you have to level that as well as your main job — though only half as much, since it caps at half the level of your main job.

There are times when all this feels a bit wearisome, particularly when compared to Final Fantasy XIV, which at times feels like it's keen to take as much "friction" out of the entire process as possible. But if you think about Final Fantasy XI in different terms — not as a "theme park"-style MMO, but simply as a more traditional RPG — it makes a lot more sense, particularly now you don't have to be dependent on other people for a lot of the "main scenario" side of things.

Dungeons in Final Fantasy XIV are spectacular affairs, but they are theme park rides — completely linear, the same every time. Dungeons in Final Fantasy XI are much more elaborate: maze-like structures filled with dead ends, hidden secrets and varied encounters with monsters. The complete lack of signposting for quest-critical items — usually this involves finding something marked "???" when you target it — means that you have to actually explore these places thoroughly… or look at a guide, of course. But the longer I play, the more interesting the prospect of just exploring becomes. And the more I feel like the game has been designed around this.

If you look at a lot of Final Fantasy XI guides online, you will inevitably see a focus on levelling as fast as possible, then steamrollering your way through all the content. But the way I've been playing, it feels a lot more natural and a lot more like it's the way it was intended to be played. I've had a couple of instances where I've had to sneak around monsters much tougher than me to find a useful item, but for the most part I've found that if I treat the game like a regular, offline RPG — that is to say, fighting my way through monsters as I proceed through a field area or dungeon rather than avoiding as many as possible — it means that progress comes naturally and without you feeling like you're having to make an inordinate amount of effort to achieve that progress. As a result, the game is fun rather than a chore.

There are still points where it feels like you are "roadblocked" in certain ways — right now I'm dealing with a particularly complicated main scenario mission that involves finding specific items in three specific dungeons, along with a level cap quest that is demanding much the same sort of thing — but only in terms of the ongoing narrative. In terms of actually playing the game and engaging with its mechanics, I feel like I'm constantly doing interesting stuff and seeing new places rather than just going through the motions.

I'm going to make it through this game! I'm excited to see where it goes! Now, if I can just find an Orcish Crest, a Quadav Crest and a Yagudo Crest, plus pieces of Magicite from their three respective bases, I should be good to go and beat up the Shadow Lord. So that's what I'm going to do today, I think.

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The post #oneaday Day 708: Proper adventuring appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I'm enjoying the game a lot, though my desire to attempt it without a guide was a foolhardy endeavour. Final Fantasy XI was always designed with "community" in mind, and built on the assumption that said community would share information with one another and help each other out, and as such there are a lot of things it just doesn't tell you. It's a lot better in this regard than it used to be, primarily thanks to the "Records of Eminence" feature, which gives you a series of objectives to accomplish that can guide your progression, but you'll still often be given a mission that tells you to go to a particular zone and find something in that zone, with absolutely no indication whatsoever of exactly whereabouts in that zone the thing is to be found. There is no minimap and no quest marker feature in Final Fantasy XI, so you're either off to find a needle in a haystack yourself, or consult the community (which now, of course, also includes comprehensive wikis) and be able to focus your efforts a bit more.

There are still one or two roadblocks that require actual interaction with a human being. One of the missions for Windurst requires that you get through a door called the "Sealed Portal", which is colloquially known by the community as "Three Mage Gate". The reason for this is that the originally intended method of opening this door was to gather a party containing a white mage, a black mage and a red mage and get them to stand on the appropriate marks on the floor, which would open the door. This was subsequently updated to only require someone with the "Portal Charm" key item — which, naturally, you get just after the mission in which you would first need it — to make things marginally easier and less dependent on wrangling an entire group.

These aspects aside, though, the game has been eminently soloable so far, thanks to the Trust system. You're given some decent Trusts right from the get-go, and more are unlockable quite easily. There are some borderline overpowered ones available without too much difficulty, too, but with the number you get to add to your arsenal very quickly, you can pretty much build a party however you like to play, and use the characters you find most appealing. My only slight beef with the system is a narrative one; many of the Trusts you get early on are characters that you probably won't have met yet, and this makes it tricky to feel a sense of attachment to them. Because, in the context of Final Fantasy XI's story, Trust magic is dependent on you having a strong bond with a particular person, this feels a bit dissonant, but you soon learn to deal with it — and after a while, you'll be able to get together a party that feels like it consists entirely of "story" characters anyway.

It's definitely a very different sort of game to Final Fantasy XIV. It's not actually turn-based, but with its pacing it might as well be. It's not a game where you attacking requires you to be constantly pressing buttons to unleash combos, unlike its follow-up; instead, it's more about equipping your character well, ensuring they have good training in the skills they need to succeed at the challenges ahead of them, and approaching combat encounters carefully and thoughtfully. Sure, you "do less" on a moment-to-moment basis, but it's a different kind of satisfying to successfully clearing difficult encounters in Final Fantasy XIV; it's less about skill with the buttons and more about traditional RPG-style number crunching. I'm not saying either way is "better" — both games are very good at what they do — but it is interesting to note quite how different they are from one another now I'm deeper into XI than I've ever been.

My next big milestones for Final Fantasy XI will be breaking a couple of level cap barriers, and then completing the base story from the original game, which culminates in a big fight against the dreaded Shadow Lord. There's still a lot to do after that, though, and most folks seem to agree that things start getting really good story-wise after you've got through the base game's material. I'm looking forward to it — and at the rate I'm going, I should be getting through it at a decent pace, too.

I'm glad I finally decided to do this. Final Fantasy XI has kind of been a "white whale" for me in terms of completion, so I knew I just had to make the time to play it and do it properly. Now that I'm doing that, I'm having a really good time. I doubt I'll get too hardcore into its "endgame" stuff — my main priority is to beat the story, and after that I will probably return to XIV — but there is plenty to do just on the journey from 1 to 99. And that's absolutely fine with me!

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The post #oneaday Day 704: Vana'diel progress report appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I am also reminded that Final Fantasy XI is not a game for everyone. Specifically, it is not a game for the impatient, because there is a lot to do, and it takes quite a long time to do pretty much anything… except level up, now, which goes at a significantly more brisk pace than it did the first time I played it all those years ago.

But we're talking about a game where the ability to run slightly faster than normal is dependent on someone completing a long and difficult quest, it rolling a random chance of the "Swift Shoes" effect coming up, and then you healing to full and having a nice sit down for a couple of minutes to "charge" the slightly-faster-than-normal movement speed — which, of course, immediately fades away the moment you either attack something or get attacked.

We're also talking about a game whose original implementation of "fast travel" required you to fight your way to a huge "crag" two zones away from your starting city and collect a crystal from it, all for the privilege of being able to teleport an inconveniently long distance away from any of the game's towns.

We're talking about a game where, when you want to cross the sea, you have to physically stand and wait for a ship, and when you're on the ship, you have to wait for the voyage to complete. (Sometimes monsters attack. A lot of the time you just have to enjoy the ride.)

If those descriptions make you smile, even a little bit, you are probably someone who will enjoy Final Fantasy XI.

The fact the game demands so much patience makes it feel very rewarding, though. When you achieve something, you feel like you've bloody well earned it. This is not a game where you are a super-special Warrior of Light pretty much from the get-go; this is a game where you are a relatively normal person — albeit one with, arguably, extraordinary combat abilities compared to your "peers" among the NPCs — just trying to make their way in the world. Make a bit of cash, get a bit of training in, visit some new places.

It's this rather open-ended feel that I really like about Final Fantasy XI. In many ways, it feels like a very pure reflection of what I call the old "world RPG" formula exemplified by titles like the early Ultima games. There is a long-term goal to go and complete, but the vast majority of your playtime will be spent doing rather freeform activities to build up your character in a way that you see fit.

Some of the best things that have been added to Final Fantasy XI since its original release are designed to make it more than just grinding monsters for hours at a time. The "Records of Eminence" quests do a great job of giving you things to do and acting as a sort of guide to what it is possible to do in the game, without having to spend half your playtime looking at a wiki. The "Field Guide" and "Grounds Tome" books at the entrances to field and dungeon areas respectively provide you with focused sets of monster targets to down in exchange for generous experience bonuses. And of course there's plenty of quests, the main storyline missions and, once you get later into the game, lots and lots of side activities. I don't yet know how "important" some of these things are — or indeed what 90% of them are at this point — but I'm intrigued to find out.

Thus far I'm up to level 25 on the job I started with — Warrior this time around — and I'm levelling Monk as a subjob for now. I'm on the "rank 2" missions for my home nation, and making good progress. I've also kicked off the Rhapsodies of Vana'diel storyline that was added much later than the other main stories, and acts as another kind of "guide" through what the game offers, with its own narrative to follow — and plenty of extremely helpful benefits as rewards along the way.

I'm enjoying myself a lot. I don't know how long it's going to take me to get through the various storylines, but levelling has been going at a brisk pace, and I'm feeling good about how things are going so far. I'm looking forward to finally doing things like taking down the Shadow Lord, which I've never done before, and particularly getting into the well-regarded Chains of Promathia expansion storyline, which longstanding FFXI players have been banging on about the quality of for years.

So yeah. It's a good time. You just need patience. And if there's one thing I have developed over the years, it is a very strong sense of patience.

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The post #oneaday Day 699: Final Fantasy XI and the art of patience appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

And then indulge me while I write two things today, because I feel like I "should". I'm just like that. Also I have just reinstalled Final Fantasy XI and it has to go through its whole many-hours patching process, so I may as well do something to fill the time.

I've decided to give Final Fantasy XI another honest go because I've always enjoyed it when I've played it in the past, I have been wanting to play through its story for more than 20 years (and there's a lot more of it now than when I first wanted to play it!) and I'm sort of "between games" right now. This time around, I want to make a proper effort to get through the main scenario. I know there's a lot of other stuff in Final Fantasy XI, but we'll see if I feel the need to jump into any of that as I work my way through; my priority is just seeing what the main storylines are.

The reason I say this is because I've pretty much made a decision: I'm going to head back into Final Fantasy XIV at some point before the new expansion drops — likely when the new "Beastmaster" job is added in the next main "part" of the Dawntrail finale patch, which is looking like July. Before that happens, I'd like to have had a good crack at Final Fantasy XI, so I'm going to treat it as my "main" game for the immediate future. I think it's going to be interesting — particularly as, for several years now, the game has been in a state where much of it is eminently soloable thanks to the fact you can bring recruitable NPC "Trusts" along with you for pretty much everything in the game, not just instanced dungeons like in Final Fantasy XIV.

As I say, I don't know how much into the weeds I'm going to get, because my main priorities are 1) getting to the level cap of 99 and 2) getting through the main storylines of the base game and all the expansions. The two will likely intertwine somewhat, and gearing up, particularly once at level 99, will likely involve dipping into some of the activities outside of the main story, but we'll see. I'm going to try and minimise guide usage as much as possible, too, because I think that will be much more interesting. I'm also curious to see if it's even possible to play that way — and if it isn't, well, there are 20+ years worth of FAQs, wikis and all manner of other resources out there to follow along with.

I'm excited! I'm also aware that I've fallen off Final Fantasy XI multiple times in the past, not because I wasn't enjoying it, but because something else came along that occupied my attention. Hopefully that won't happen this time around — because I'm increasingly conscious that, because of the game's age, there is likely only so much more time I have to be able to actually do this quest.

So Vana'Diel awaits! In about two hours' time, according to the PlayOnline Viewer, anyway. So how should I occupy myself in the meantime… hmmm?

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The post #oneaday Day 696: The missing day appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I have a problem, and its name is Final Fantasy Tactics. Specifically, it is Final Fantasy Tactics' progression system. It's not that it's bad. Oh, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

My problem is that I'm having too damn much fun beefing up my little guys. I have spent several entire play sessions doing nothing but fighting random battles and levelling up my guys, because the next thing that I think it would be cool to unlock is always just over the horizon, yet within reach. And so I keep going, and going, and going… and now my main team is pushing level 40 and is about 75% of the way through Chapter 3.

Part of the reason this has happened is due to the situation I described the other day, where the Golgollada Gallows fight proved to be something of a roadblock until I spent a bit of time grinding my way to be able to survive it convincingly. While I was engaging in that process, I found myself thinking "hey, this is actually kind of fun in and of itself", and so I have found myself drifting back towards just playing for level and job progression rather than advancing the story.

Oh, I'm not going so far as some particularly extreme examples of the genre, such as in Chris Person's excellent piece on Aftermath describing how he spends five hours at the start of every Final Fantasy Tactics playthrough absolutely breaking the game's progression system on the very first map, before the story even gets underway properly. No. That does sound like it might be fun to try sometime, but I'm not going that far for only my second full playthrough of this game in my life.

I'm just levelling everyone probably 10 levels higher than they need to be for the point in the story I'm at, and unlocking some of the seriously powerful jobs. Dragoon's fully upgraded Jump ability being able to hit almost any square on the map from any other point, after a small delay? Working on it. Ninja's frankly obscenely overpowered Dual Wield ability? Got it. Arithmetician's ability to nuke the entire map instantly and without using magic points? Definitely working on it.

As Chris says in his Aftermath piece, doing this is "funny and the game doesn't stop you". Nope; because the random encounters scale to your characters' levels, you'll always be presented with appropriately levelled opponents and be able to score some decent experience from them. As such, you can quite feasibly level all the way to 99 if you feel that way inclined — and in doing so, you'd likely unlock most, if not all, of the available jobs with some canny switching at appropriate moments.

I have set myself a milestone, though. When my "main five" hit level 40, I'm going to move on with the story.

Probably.

I mean, I want to make sure I can handle that Wiegraf fight, right? Maybe just a few more levels…

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The post #oneaday Day 512: Can't stop grinding appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Final Fantasy Tactics is a game I absolutely love and respect greatly, but I have to be in the right mood to play it. Today I was very much in the mood to play it, so play it I did. I got to a point that proved to be a sticking point for me when I first played it on PlayStation — Golgollada Gallows, also known as Golgorand Execution Site in the original — and, indeed, it proved to be a bit of a sticking point for me this time around, also.

However! This time around, I was armed with the knowledge of how I beat it last time around, which was to spend several hours doing random battles to level up my core units to such a point that they could survive the challenge of Golgollada Gallows — notorious as one of the toughest fights in the relatively early game — and progress without too much trouble.

Y'see, the difficulty I had with this first time around is that Final Fantasy Tactics sort of positions itself as a game where you move from story beat to story beat without any interruptions. Because it's not a conventional RPG in which you directly control the protagonist as he wanders around towns and dungeons, it's easy to see the random engagements you can run into on the node-based world map as annoying inconveniences preventing you from seeing the next bit of story.

But they are there for a reason — and, indeed, The Ivalice Chronicles version of the game makes it even easier for you to take advantage of them by making them not random at all. Sure, sometimes as you move from node to node you'll get the distinctive "swoosh" that indicates a battle is incoming, but unlike the PlayStation original, you can choose not to engage if you don't want to. This prevents you from encountering a minor softlock if, for example, you're trying to get to a town to stock up on healing items or refresh your units' equipment.

However, it also goes the other way. If you pass through a non-story node and you don't have an encounter there, you can choose to "search for enemies" and manually trigger a battle. This means if you actually want to spend some time levelling your units or earning them some new abilities — which the game doesn't tell you to do, but which is very much a good idea — you can do that much more easily than in the PlayStation version. If you want to, you can just stand on one battlefield, do a fight, then immediately trigger another one — no running back and forth between nodes in the hope of getting the "swoosh", because you can trigger it at will, and you can ignore it if it's inconvenient.

While I'm not normally a fan of being able to turn off encounters in a regular RPG — it feels very much like cheating, plus it does you out of some progression that you probably need — in a game like Final Fantasy Tactics, where battles take 5-10 minutes or more rather than a few seconds, this was an important and very welcome tweak to the formula.

Anyway, upshot of all this is that I beat Golgollada Gallows on my second attempt rather than taking the many, many, many attempts I did back in the day. I was still relatively new to console RPGs when I first picked up Final Fantasy Tactics, after all, and it hadn't occurred to me to grind because I wasn't super-familiar with the concept. Once I spent that time levelling my units properly, though, everything fell into place, and the rest of the game was much more straightforward. As, indeed, I suspect it will be this time around, too.

Final Fantasy Tactics: The Ivalice Chronicles is a wonderful remake of an already wonderful game. I have greatly enjoyed my time playing today, and, having got over that notorious difficulty spike, I suspect the remainder of the game (except maybe "that" Wiegraf fight) will be even more enjoyable.

So your lesson for the day, then, if you're new to Final Fantasy Tactics, is don't be afraid to grind. Embrace it. Love it. You will come to appreciate it when all your units are suddenly orders of magnitude more effective with just four or five additional levels under their belts!

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The post #oneaday Day 506: Tactical Sunday appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

As one of several games I have on the go right now — for a bit of variety, like — I decided to start up Final Fantasy IV Pixel Remaster. I've played Final Fantasy IV I think twice before — and one of those was on PlayStation, so your sympathies are gratefully received, though that version at least isn't quite as bad as PS1 Final Fantasy VI — and remembered it being quite short, though I had forgotten quite how fast it moves.

I'm two hours in and already — apologies in advance if any of this is a spoiler, but the game came out in 1991 — the main character has committed a war crime, adopted an orphan child that he was directly responsible for orphaning, become separated from his best friend (who inevitably turns traitor), rescued his loved one from a deadly bout of Desert Fever by retrieving a valuable gem from a slobbering Antlion, rescued a prince from the ruins of his devastated castle and his broken heart, and attempted (mostly unsuccessfully) to fend off an assault on another kingdom.

It moves so fast. I had forgotten how fast. I have played so many modern (relatively speaking) games that feature epic-length story sequences between the core "gameplay" sections that it almost feels rushed. I mean, hell, after two hours in a Persona game from 3 onwards, you're barely through the initial character introductions and you almost certainly haven't set foot in a dungeon yet.

This is both a strength and a weakness of Final Fantasy IV, looking at it with a 2025 pair of eyes. It's a strength because it means that there's never particularly long to wait before you're doing stuff again — exploring the world, clearing dungeons, fighting monsters, levelling up, buying new equipment — and that is quite a refreshing change from today's narrative-centric games that, while undoubtedly considerably more ambitious in their storytelling, sometimes do feel like they're getting a little bogged down. Not only that, but Final Fantasy IV is done and dusted in less than 20 hours, which makes it a veritable light novel by RPG standards.

However, it's also a weakness, because there are some sequences that were clearly intended to be quite significant narrative moments, but the way the game just whizzes through them makes them feel almost laughable.

I'll give you an example. Rydia, the girl that the protagonist, Cecil, rescues from a war crime he inadvertently committed at the behest of his king, is a Summoner in Final Fantasy Job terms. This means that not only can she summon big things to deal heavy damage, but she can also cast both white and black magic spells. When you first get her, she's an inexperienced kid at level 1, so she barely knows any spells, but a bit of levelling in the field will net her a few initial, useful spells. Except you'll notice one black magic spell is prominently missing: Fire.

Think about it for a moment and it's obvious why: because she lost her entire village, including her mother, in a fiery explosion, she is, of course, going to be hesitant to call upon the power of fire. This little bit of characterisation is initially delivered without the game drawing any attention to it whatsoever, but you can notice it early from a simple browse of the menu. Very cool. Ambitious for the time, even!

What is less cool is when the party finds their path up a mountain blocked by a big chunk of ice, and the other members, eventually getting Rydia to admit that she "hates fire", pretty much tell her to stop snivelling and get over it because they jolly well have a quest to accomplish. It's almost certainly not intended to come across that way — the other members are all "yay, you did it, I always believed in you" after she does successfully cast her first Fire spell, presumably with tears streaming down her face and the knowledge that this is probably going to need years of therapy to truly deal with — but with at least a couple of decades' worth of games that handle sensitive topics rather more delicately behind us, it does feel rather… blunt.

But, again, you have to remember that this was 1991, just a year after the SNES had come on the market, and Final Fantasy IV was on a cartridge that contained less than a megabyte of data in total. In fact, during development, the script had to be cut considerably to fit on its cartridge; lengthy exposition was something that developers simply couldn't afford to do back in these days, because every byte mattered, and text can potentially take up a lot of space if there's enough of it. As such, it's not altogether surprising that some sequences feel like they move a tad fast by modern standards — short of shipping on a larger capacity cartridge, which was presumably a decision that needed to be made relatively early in development, there were very real constraints on what Final Fantasy IV would be able to do.

Of course, Final Fantasy IV has been expanded on quite a bit in later remakes such as the polygonal 3DS version, the Game Boy Advance version and the PSP version; each of these had their own additions to the basic Final Fantasy IV formula.

But the Pixel Remaster; that's based on Final Fantasy IV as it originally existed, graphics and music aside, and thus you have the plot that speeds off over the horizon as you just think you're getting caught up on proceedings.

All this is no shade on Final Fantasy IV, of course; it's a game I like very much (though it's far from my favourite Final Fantasy) — I just found it interesting to revisit this after so many years and be reminded that at one time, RPGs moved a lot more quickly than they do now!

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The post #oneaday Day 493: The breakneck pace of Final Fantasy IV appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I am a big fan of Compile Heart's Death end re;Quest series. For the unfamiliar, it's a series of three (to date… with it looking like there's more on the way) narrative-centric console RPGs with strong horror themes, and involvement from some maestros of the genre like Makoto "Corpse Party" Kedouin on scenario duties and Kei "Mary Skelter" Nanameda on the art.

What I've found very interesting about Death end re;Quest to date is that all the games in the series have been very different from one another. Mechanically, the first two were quite similar, but tonally and thematically they were very different. The first game primarily involved an "if you die in the game you die for real" kind of MMO-gone-mad situation, while the second was based around horrible goings-on in a tiny European town that doesn't appear on any maps. As Compile Heart games, both of them also involved more than a touch of yuri to them — particularly in the case of the second one.

Death end re;Quest Code Z, meanwhile, changes up both the narrative setting and the game's core mechanical conceits. Narratively, I'm not far enough into the game to know exactly what the situation is, but it involves characters from both of the previous two games, many of whom didn't interact with one another directly in their original games — and, moreover, some characters who were very much dead in previous games, such as the father of the second game's protagonist, Mai — are alive in this one. I can't comment on that further as yet, but I'm interested to know more.

The most obvious difference between Death end re;Quest Code Z and its predecessors is that it's now a Mystery Dungeon-like. For those not familiar with such things, this is a Japanese take on the roguelike genre that typically (though not always) favours cutesy visuals; grid-based, turn-based movement and combat; a heavy degree of resource management; limited inventory space; and, of course, a series of increasingly deep, procedurally generated dungeons in which to hack, slash, explore, level up and loot.

Death end re;Quest Code Z mostly plays things relatively straight in this regard, with the exception of one thing: rather than an "energy" or "hunger" bar, the protagonist, Sayaka, has a sanity rating. This gradually declines as you explore, with various "milestones" on the gauge corresponding to her field of view contracting, the background audio becoming more distorted (or completely replaced) and, in the case of extremely low sanity, interface elements like the minimap being unusable and the likelihood of her harming herself going up considerably.

This is very much in keeping with the horror tone the series has always had, but it also means that the game has quite a "survival horror" feel to it as well. Since you're juggling your health, sanity and available items as you progress through each dungeon, you have to make some tough and interesting choices as you play — particularly if you're playing on the "Expert" mode (which I actually recommend in this case), where Sayaka's level is reset every time she leaves a dungeon, and she suffers notable losses in terms of inventory items and weapon power-ups if she's actually killed.

The other interesting thing relates to the series' titular "Death Ends". In prior games, Death Ends came about if you made bad choices during the storytelling sequences, and usually resulted in the protagonist and/or members of the core cast suffering a horrifying, gory death, described in excruciating detail. Towards the end of the first game — mild spoilers, I guess — one of the characters becomes aware of you, the player, and starts addressing you as "God of Death" in recognition of the number of times you have led the cast to a sticky end, and Death end re;Quest Code Z builds on this further by having the main protagonist, Sayaka, constantly aware of and communicating with you — even putting her trust in you.

There's some interesting conflict here, because Sayaka trusts you to lead her through the challenges ahead of her, and you need to successfully do so in order to progress through the story. But! And this is a big but: if you let her die, you can make her stronger. Because every time you see a unique Death End in Death end re;Quest Code Z, Sayaka gets a skill point that you can invest in passive boosts to her basic abilities and resistances, and even complete immunity to certain status effects. The more she dies, the stronger she gets and, presumably in theory, the easier the game gets.

But that places you, as her "Partner" (she very pointedly keeps referring to you as such) in a difficult position. Because in keeping with series tradition, every time Sayaka carks it, there's a lengthy narration of exactly how she dies, often delivered in something of a mocking tone. This is coupled with a gory (and often somewhat sexualised) event image depicting her dying yet again. Thus you are faced with a quandary: do you kill Sayaka a bunch in order to power her up? Do you deliberately lead her to her death multiple times in succession to score some easy skill points at the outset of the game? Or do you actually try and take care of her somewhat, knowing that in doing so you are leaving her as a somewhat sub-optimal character?

Death end re;Quest Code Z forces the player to interrogate their relationship with the death of their on-screen avatar — particularly one that is supposedly aware of them. Sayaka never remembers any of her deaths, but you know you caused them, and there's a helpful checklist of all 104 possible ways to die and the skill tree itself to remind you quite how many times you've seen her devoured, eviscerated, beaten to a bloody pulp, disintegrated, decapitated and any number of other nasty words you might care to mention. Undoubtedly the most "efficient" way to play is to repeatedly let Sayaka die in the first dungeon, but doing so is tedious — and thinking that should give you pause. You are repeatedly murdering someone, and it's boring. Are you that desensitised to violence that you can bring yourself to do that?

Some of you will be absolutely fine with it, I'm sure, and I'm not judging you for it. But after a few initial deaths in that first dungeon, I really started to hesitate and think "hang on a minute, this doesn't feel right at all". And I can't remember the last time a game made me feel quite like that about the protagonist, through my actions, being killed off.

This has made me determined to see how far it's possible to progress without killing Sayaka repeatedly. I've reached a point where I don't give a toss about PlayStation trophies any more, so I don't have the "pressure" from the two that related to getting all the Death Ends and unlocking all the skills weighing on me — and thus it really is up to my own feelings of morality about whether I want to buff up Sayaka by murdering her over and over again, or if I genuinely want to see her succeed, taking her shortcomings into account.

Thus far this is turning out to be one of Compile Heart's most interesting games. I'd expect nothing less from a series whose other two entries were also thoroughly fascinating. I'm intrigued to play more — and it certainly is the season for a bit of horror.

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The post #oneaday Day 491: Some first impressions from Death end re;Quest Code Z appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

It's a delight to return to this game. As I've alluded to several times, I'm going to do some more in-depth coverage of this over on MoeGamer as I play through, but I thought I'd also post some first impressions from the Switch port here, since it's what the majority of my evening has consisted of.

It's been a long time since I played the Wii U version (ten years, in fact!) but a lot of things already feel comfortably familiar. I even inadvertently picked the exact same voice for my character that I did first time around, though I didn't realise I'd done that until she came out with one particular line that suddenly triggered a memory.

Xenoblade Chronicles X is an absolutely massive game, but it does a good job of easing you into things. The early story missions take you through the absolute basics you'll need to know to get up and running, then by about the third chapter you can start enjoying some of the game's more "freeform" structure by taking on various missions. As you continue to progress the main story, you unlock other features such as the online modes and the ability to pilot (and later fly) the "Skell" giant robots. Crucially, though, the game doesn't throw all this at you at once. You can quite feasibly spend a very long time playing the game before even getting anywhere close to jumping into a Skell.

The main thing I was wondering about, which is how they'd implement the hex-based "segment map" that was originally on the Wii U GamePad's screen while you played, has been incorporated about as well as they could have done given the Switch's lack of a second screen. It's now a separate Map screen that you can access from the game's main menu, which means you can't look at it while you're wandering around, but it does also mean you can concentrate on it without having to worry about Tyrants coming to attack you while you tinker with your mining probes.

Performance and visuals-wise, the Switch version does a great job. There are understandable technical limitations of the same ilk seen in other Xenoblade games on the console — most notably characters and some objects "popping in" as you approach rather than being drawn from a distance — but, given the scale of the game and the relatively underpowered hardware it's running on, it's just fine. The tweaks to the interface to make it more readable are very welcome indeed, and I suspect even more so for those playing in handheld mode; this is really a game made for big TVs, though, as the vistas throughout remain absolutely spectacular.

Coming to this almost straight off the back of Xenoblade Chronicles Definitive Edition, it's also interesting to note how different the combat feels. While the basic mechanics are almost identical, the focus on responding to your party members' callouts and the ability to switch between ranged and melee weapons on the fly really makes battles feel a lot more dynamic. Enemies move around a lot more, too, meaning you also have to move a lot more to be able to strike them from the side or behind — and a welcome addition over the original Xenoblade's combat is a clear on-screen indicator as to whether you're considered in front of, flanking or behind an enemy.

I'm very happy to be back on Mira, and since I have no other "big games" going on right now, I'm going to see quite how much of this game I can complete this time around. Because although I finished the storyline of the Wii U version, I feel like I only scratched the surface of the things the game has for you to do. Because as I saw someone else point out the other day, Xenoblade Chronicles X is actually two stories: one is about your companion Elma rather than you, and that's the "main scenario" you go through. The other is the emergent narrative you build yourself: your career with BLADE, the missions you complete, the people you encounter, the choices you make. And it's that latter part that goes on for a lot longer than the relatively short main scenario.

Because I was deep into Final Fantasy XIV at the time Xenoblade Chronicles X came out for the first time, I felt a certain amount of "guilt" at getting too invested in the latter. But since I've drifted away from Final Fantasy XIV for the moment, Xenoblade Chronicles X is getting my full attention. And if you're yet to play it, I highly encourage you to check it out this time around. You no longer have the excuse that it's on a platform that no-one owns, because it's on one of the most popular console platforms in the known Universe.

Anyway. I wanted to post something about it today at least. I should probably go to bed now, but there are missions to do, things to find, Tyrants to fight…

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The post #oneaday Day 286: It's Xenoblade time appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I've been playing Fire Emblem Engage since I finished Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door and The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom, and I've been having a lovely time. Fire Emblem is a series that has always passed me by despite it being, in theory kind of in my wheelhouse.

I say "kind of" rather than "completely", because while I absolutely love the high drama fantasy RPG side of the narrative, I've always had a bit of a rocky relationship with strategy games. I'm not good at them, see, and I've always had a hard time trying to determine how to get better at them. Because while there are plenty of guides out there for games like Fire Emblem, none of them simply sit you down and talk you through how to play them effectively. And that, for me, has always been a problem. It's why I bounced off Fire Emblem Awakening on 3DS, the last entry in the series that I tried, and why I have held off on playing the copy of Fire Emblem: Three Houses that's been on my shelf for several years at this point.

Why am I playing Fire Emblem Engage when Three Houses, a game almost universally considered to be superior in every way, is right there on my shelf? Well, because I had somehow got it in my head that Engage was a little more "straightforward" — and, perhaps more importantly, shorter. Three Houses is an absolute beast of a game, particularly if you do all the narrative routes (which I'm assured you should), whereas Engage is a once-and-done sort of affair, with replay value coming from the harder difficulty levels.

Mechanically, I don't think Engage is any more straightforward than what I know of Three Houses. There are elements where it's arguably more complicated, in fact — most notably with regard to the Emblem Bond and Skill Inheritance systems — but I wasn't to know that going in, and I'm about 25 hours in now, so, well, I guess I've dealt with it successfully.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm playing on Normal difficulty and Casual mode — i.e. the one without permadeath. I was having enough difficulty with the initial missions in the game that adding the opportunity to completely gimp my playthrough via poor performance seemed like an unwise choice. I am new to the series, I am still finding my feet in how it all works and how to play effectively, and thus I want minimal barriers to just enjoying myself. The options are there, so I'm using them.

With that "guardrail" in place, Fire Emblem Engage is still quite challenging. If you lose a unit during a mission, you still have to do the rest of the mission without that unit, and that can really fuck you over. It took me a few early-game missions to figure out what I was doing wrong, but then something interesting happened: I figured out what I was doing wrong.

This is not something that normally happens with strategy games. I normally end up being trounced by whoever I'm playing against, then never wanting to play it again as a result — or, in the case of tabletop affairs, not getting much opportunity to "practice". But with Fire Emblem Engage, I've ploughed on, and I've started to get a real feel for how the strategy works, and what is effective. I still make mistakes now and then — and the game's generous "Draconic Time Crystal" mechanic that allows you to undo stupid moves has been very helpful here — but I am definitely getting better at How To Play Fire Emblem. And that's a good feeling.

Because Being Able To Play Fire Emblem means that you can Enjoy Fire Emblem. And there is a lot to enjoy. The story of Engage, while relatively clichéd RPG fare — dark dragon long thought safely sealed away has come back, heroic band must gather a bunch of rings to summon enough power to drive the bastard back to the abyss — has been really compelling so far, and the character-centric nature of modern Fire Emblem is exactly what I like in this sort of game. I'm getting a real feeling that I'm getting to know the individual characters, both through the protagonist character's interactions with them and their interactions with one another.

For the unfamiliar, modern Fire Emblem features a relationship mechanic whereby units can "support" one another by fighting alongside each other in combat and doing activities together between battles, and your reward for reaching a new milestone in two characters' relationship with one another is a "support conversation", which depicts the two of them getting to know one another. There's not a Support mechanic in play for every pairing of characters in the game, but plenty that make logical sense, and it's lovely to see everyone getting to know one another, having comedic misunderstandings and deepening their feelings of friendship.

Anyway. I'm not sure how far through the game I am — I reckon probably about halfway maybe? — but I've been playing it all weekend and having a great time. I should almost certainly have it finished ahead of Xenoblade Chronicles X coming out on Switch in March — because you better believe I'm revisiting that game thoroughly having adored it on Wii U — but in the meantime I think I'm a convert to the series. I'm sure longstanding fans will scoff at me playing on non-permadeath mode, but I bet all of them reload a save the second anyone dies anyway. Also it doesn't matter how someone else enjoys a video game.

So yeah. Fire Emblem, pretty good. Who knew?

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The post #oneaday Day 212: Engage! appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

As you can hopefully see from the thumbnail, we were playing the delightfully named Mon-Yu: Defeat Monsters And Gain Strong Weapons And Armour – You May Be Defeated But Don't Give Up. Become Stronger. I Believe There Will Be A Day When The Heroes Defeat The Devil King. This is a dungeon crawler by Experience, makers of, among other things, the Spirit Hunter horror adventures I've been playing recently.

I obviously talk more about the game in the stream itself, but my first impressions after a 3-hour session are very positive. It's really interesting how Experience manage to make what is ostensibly the same kind of game feel cool and different between all their different titles. Mon-Yu is pitched as an entry-level dungeon crawler, but there are plenty of interesting little wrinkles for genre veterans, such as being level capped on each dungeon, meaning you have to figure out how to deal with the bosses without just outlevelling them.

There's also an interesting equipment system, where equipment gains experience as you use it alongside the characters. Equipment has a "rank" which determines how much it can level up, so sometimes you have to make a decision between keeping your upgraded items or taking a temporary hit to your effectiveness while you power up something with a higher cap.

There's also a really great "rapid battle" system, where if you know what you're doing you can get all your characters to auto-attack or repeat their last actions without having to wait for all the animations and log entries to appear on screen. Combine this with the fact that the game has no random encounters — and by its level-capped structure, it discourages grinding to a certain extent — and you have a really interesting take on what has, over the course of the last few years, become one of my favourite subgenres.

Anyway, it's half past two in the morning now because I made a video about sauce after finishing the stream. Watch out for that on my channel later next week. For now, I must sleep!

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The post #oneaday Day 148: Stream Success appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I'm continuing to enjoy Pokémon Moon. I've found myself on more than one occasion being keen to get to the end of my working day and be able to play it some more. I'm getting a feel for the shallow end of the overall metagame — most notably which types of Pokémon and attacks are strong and weak against other types — and I'm also getting curious to see what a Pokémon endgame is like after you've finished the story.

Of course, I'm a long way off the latter aspect in particular so far, since I'm still only on the second island in the game, coming up on that island's second Trial. I am making good progress on the Pokédex, however, being roughly around 30% complete on the first two islands, and I've assembled what feels like a solid team of well-leveled Pokémon that feel like they're pretty good for "general purpose" wandering around.

With the Trials on the second island, types become a lot more important, and the game drops a few hints your way as to which types of Pokémon you might want to make sure you have on hand for the upcoming challenges. The game seems to be well-paced in that the Pokémon you can catch in an area are of a suitable level to be reasonably competitive against both the local wildlife and Trainers, so grinding doesn't seem to be too necessary unless you want to take a Pokémon you caught much earlier into the Trials. Even then, however, just making sure a low-level Pokémon is in your party while your stronger team members deal with the wild Pokémon of the area allows them to get caught up reasonably quickly, at least across the early levels.

One thing that occurs to me — and I thought this with what little I played of X and Y as well — is that Pokémon has quite a bit in common with MMOs these days. You don't play in a persistent shared world with other people, but many aspects of the game are similar, particularly with regard to character customisation and competitive play. Of particular note is the "fashion" feature where you can adjust your avatar's hair, makeup, eye colour and clothing and then share that avatar online through the Festival Plaza system. Your avatar can then be further customised through the text-based words and phrases they say when other players interact with them — asynchronously rather than in real-time, because this is a Nintendo game for kids, after all — and, later, you even get the opportunity to buy clothes that you see other characters wearing.

I haven't tried the online trading and battling systems yet, but I understand they're both fairly active. The trading facility in particular is a godsend when I think back to the early games; possibly one of the things that meant I bounced off Red and Gold back in the Game Boy days was because no-one else I knew was playing any of them, and thus I had no-one to trade or battle with. Nowadays, however, trading and battling is a simple case of visiting Festival Plaza and using the appropriate options — or, for someone in the same room as you, using the excellent Quick Link feature to quickly do something together.

Some 15 hours into the game so far, I remain curious as to whether it will hold my attention into its endgame and beyond, but I'm having a blast so far and anticipate I will continue to do so for quite some time yet.

The post 2521: Super Effective appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I finished Final Fantasy XV's main story earlier on. It was a spectacular conclusion, but that's not what I want to talk about today. Instead, I want to talk about the game's "secret" dungeon, the Pitioss Ruins.

As you have probably surmised, spoilers are ahead, albeit not story ones, since the Pitioss Ruins is a purely mechanical challenge. I am going to talk about all the different aspects of the dungeon, though, so if you want to encounter it for yourself, look away now.

The Pitioss Ruins are only accessible after you've finished the game, since you can't get the flying car Regalia Type-F until this point, and you need to be able to fly to reach the area of the map where the dungeon is.

You may have noticed the area on the map earlier in the game — it's near the Rock of Ravatogh, marked as what looks like a yellow slash mark on the map. It looks like it should be an icon you can click on, but it's just part of the map. In actual fact, this yellow stroke is a small dirt airstrip on which you can land the Regalia Type-F (carefully!) before proceeding on foot towards the Pitioss Ruins, which stand proudly atop a nearby hill, looking like a deceptively small stone structure.

Like Costlemark Tower, the Pitioss Ruins only open at night, though in this case it's through a button activating rather than the actual entrance opening up. Noctis must enter alone by hopping through a narrow gap in a metal fence, pushing the button and descending via an ancient elevator into the complex.

The Pitioss Ruins are a pure puzzle dungeon — there are no enemies inside, meaning your only task is to explore it thoroughly and loot it of all the many treasures it has to offer. (And there are many treasures inside, including the Black Hood accessory, which allows Noctis to auto-dodge enemy attacks — immensely useful.) This does not, by any means, mean that it is a walk in the park, however; on the contrary, it took me just shy of four hours to clear it today, since it's filled with challenging, interesting and unforgiving environmental puzzles.

The dungeon is split into several areas. You begin gently with a small area in which your task is simply to get a door open. In order to do this, you need to navigate around moving walls, hit switches to move rolling boulders out of the way and eventually smash an enormous statue to clear the way to the door.

This is subsequently followed by a puzzle that demands careful observation of the environment, including the small details, in order to succeed. Flipping a switch activates a room that rotates around its axis, with openings at regular intervals. You have to get into one of these openings, then stand behind a small "wall" (which becomes a floor when the opening is perpendicular to the ground) and carefully fall down a small hole, avoiding spikes.

Beyond this, there's a section with a number of platforming challenges, some of which simply require careful jumping onto stationary platforms, and others of which see you standing precariously atop spinning spiky things.

After this there is one of the highlights of the dungeon for me. Opening a door, you discover a huge Demon Wall-esque structure rolling backwards and forwards across an enormous dark room. The front of the structure is covered with spikes, so you have to think and observe carefully to get around it. What then follows is a lengthy sequence where you climb all over and through the structure and the surrounding room in order to get out of a door at the other end of it. It's a beautifully designed sequence that makes a huge amount out of a geographically small area.

Next up is another highlight: a section of dungeon where everything is skewed at roughly a 45-degree angle. Not only does this play havoc with your perception of perspective, it also presents the unusual traversal challenge of effectively allowing you to stand on not one flat "floor", but instead two separate faces of the blocks that make up the area. Navigating this section is a perception challenge: can you correctly recognise which areas are safe to jump to, or which you can climb up?

Delightfully, dropping down into the next area heralds a complete change in perspective: the game temporarily becomes a side-on 2D platformer with static screens, Prince of Persia-style. This sequence is short but sweet, with some tricky jumps and a couple of mean tricks at the end.

This is then followed by a sequence that uses a similar idea to the skewed section earlier, but in which the angle at which the level is rotated changes at various intervals. Using a huge statue at the far end of the room to orient yourself, you need to ensure you recognise which way is "up" and carefully pick your way to the statue itself, at which point you jump on its tits and it falls over, conveniently allowing you access to the next area.

Following another climb over confusing angled floors — this time rather narrow and precarious — you find yourself back at the start of the dungeon from a different perspective, at which point you need to find a way to open the doors to the treasure and make your escape.

I absolutely loved this dungeon. I loved it so much that I didn't even mind when I forgot to save after my first clear (the game didn't auto-save, either!) and promptly crashed the Regalia Type-F on takeoff, causing an immediate Game Over and losing four hours of progress. My second clear was much smoother since I knew what I was doing, but it still took quite a while.

The dungeon design itself is really good. It's well paced, gradually increasing in difficulty and complexity as you proceed. There are frequent means of unlocking "shortcuts" to various sections of the dungeon, so you don't have to clear it all in one go — you can't save inside, but you can step outside, save and return to where you were using the shortcuts without too much difficulty.

Perhaps the best thing about it is something that the team have clearly learned from masochistic platformers such as Super Meat Boy: instant respawns. Since you'll be "dying" a lot in the Pitioss Ruins — it's filled with bottomless pits and instant death spike traps — it would be a real chore to have to endure Final Fantasy XV's hefty load times every time you fucked up. Thankfully, then, you won't get a Game Over inside the Pitioss Ruins — "dying" will simply set you back to the nearest checkpoint, which may be the start of an area, or just before a particularly tricky jumping challenge later in the dungeon. Getting put back to these checkpoints is sufficient punishment to discourage messing up, but not so frustrating you want to leave the dungeon behind and never speak its name again.

All in all, the Pitioss Ruins proved to be a spectacular piece of level design, with some Nier-level mechanical mindfuckery along the way thanks to the skewed sections and the 2D platformer part. I really enjoyed clearing the dungeon, and I have no doubt that the Black Hood will prove to be very useful in the rest of the postgame content.

The post 2518: The Pitioss Ruins appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

When I've not been playing Final Fantasy XV, I've been giving Pokémon Moon a serious shot, as I'm determined to try and understand the obsessive appeal the series has. And I think, finally, I'm starting to "get it".

Part of this is, as I described a few days ago, the fact that Sun and Moon have refined their systems and interfaces to a level where I'm not frustrated by a lack of information any longer, although I do feel there's a certain amount of "assumed knowledge"; an understanding that many of the people who are playing this have previously played at least one Pokémon game to death. This leads to a certain amount of flailing around in the early hours as you try to figure certain things out — though pleasingly, the game does actually take the time to point out what common series abbreviations like "TM" stand for, which is something I don't recall X and Y doing.

Pokémon has evolved considerably over time. I played Red and Gold when they first came out on Game Boy, then set the series aside until X and Y which I gave a go for a bit but didn't really feel, although there were certain aspects I did like. Chief among these was the amount of customisation there is in the game, which has really come to the forefront in the 3D installments. I'm a sucker for any game that gives me the opportunity to play a cute girl and dress her up in cute outfits, and Moon certainly hasn't been disappointing in this regard, with plenty of hair and clothing options to choose from. (I actually found myself not wanting to customise X and Y's default female character because I liked her standard look so much, though I understand there was a similar situation here.)

Moon's online feature — the Festival Plaza — is a little peculiar in that true Nintendo "no direct online interaction!" way, but it's charming, endearing and friendly in, yes, that true Nintendo way. Not only do you get the opportunity to ogle the wonderful avatar creations of other players — both from your friends list and randomly gathered from online — but you also get to interact with them in various ways. Perhaps the most appealing part of all this is the fact that it's possible to populate your online profile with a questionnaire covering all manner of different topics, and there are a wide variety of different responses you can give to the prompts — some sensible, some nonsensical. This allows players the opportunity to express themselves and their personality without the potential for unpleasantness that unfiltered direct online communication often brings with it.

As for the main game itself, the setup has been enjoyable so far. In typical Pokémon fashion, you set out from your childhood home to have an adventure, largely prompted by the local crazy professor. Along the way you encounter a rival (who is more of a friend in this character than in some previous installments) and a recurring team of villains (who are, as usual, comedically incompetent in this installment, with the main difference being that the general populace of the Alola region knows how comedically incompetent they are rather than living in fear of them) as you seek to prove your might as a Pokémon master.

I like the fact the structure of the game has been shaken up a bit from "get to each town, visit gym, defeat everyone in there" from the previous games. The new "trials" concept covers the same basic ground, but seems to handle things more like a traditional RPG dungeon, with objectives to complete along the way followed by a boss at the end. I'm interested to see how this develops further in the game — I'm still on the first island at present.

I'm not yet quite sure if I'm "doing it right" with regard to my team makeup and levelling strategy, but I'm sure there are no mistakes I might make that can't be corrected with a little grinding or, if the worst comes to the worst, catching a fresh new Pokémon of a particular type. In the meantime, I'm genuinely enjoying Moon, and I'm keen to see how the game develops in its later hours.

The post 2516: Alola! appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Still plugging away at Final Fantasy XV, and still having a lot of fun. I'm now up to Chapter 8, as I eventually ran into a roadblock in Chapter 3 where part of the map where several sidequests concluded was locked off and thus I had to progress further to be able to continue. Along the way I enjoyed some spectacular story sequences, but now I'm back on the sidequest train for the moment.

I've been very much enjoying the whole experience of Final Fantasy XV so far. While the sheer amount of sidequests and other distractions around the game world absolutely kill the pacing of the main story if you don't have the self-discipline to focus on that first and do all the other shit later, all that side content is enjoyable to do. As I noted in my first impressions a few days ago, the whole game feels like an inversion of the usual Final Fantasy formula, in which a wide variety of things are open to you from almost the very outset of the game, and you're simply able to immediately go and do whatever appeals to you the most.

Like Xenoblade Chronicles X, an open-world RPG that had a rather similar structure, I've been enjoying how much all the side content makes the world feel like a fleshed-out, lived-in place. Through numerous sidequests — and the conversations your party members have during these quests — you learn quite a bit about the world that you might not discover if you just focused on the main story. The town of Lestallum, for example, is one with a pretty strong gender divide that has come about naturally over time; the women (who are "built", according to Gladio, who one can infer from his enthusiasm is all about the thicc girls) work the industrial jobs such as maintaining the power plant in the city, while the men run the market stalls, restaurants and shops. You might not notice this immediately if you just pay it the flying visit you do in the main scenario quests, but Holly's series of sidequests explores this side of things a bit further.

I've enjoyed the dungeons, too. I think I've cleared them all now — with the exception of the high-level deeper levels that open up once you've completed the main story — and they've been pleasingly different from one another. Particular highlights included the Crestholme Channels, a labyrinth of sewers beneath the outskirts of the Crown City, and Costlemark Tower, a complex dungeon with a shifting layout that you have to carefully navigate your way through in order to reach the boss at the end.

(As a side note, Costlemark Tower presently has a bug in it where sometimes if you've done things in the "wrong" order, beating the boss will not trigger the final cutscene and award you with the weapon you're supposed to get for clearing the dungeon. If this happens, exit and re-enter the dungeon, work your way back to the boss room and trigger a somewhat glitchy cutscene. You then have to fight the boss again, though the bug means that you can't target it unless you're able to trigger a Summon spell. You can, however, fling magic at it; Blizzard spells are particularly effective, so stock up on those before going in for an easy victory.)

I think I'm just about coming to the limit of sidequests that are left to do before I'll be obliged to continue on with the main story. At about 57 hours deep in the game so far, I've already very much had my money's worth, but I'm keen to see how the story continues and concludes — and also very excited to explore what sounds like a considerable amount of post-game content.

The post 2515: Life in Eos appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I decided to give Pokémon another go with the latest installments Sun and Moon, specifically Moon, since Andie picked up a copy of Sun.

I've only spent a little over an hour with it so far but already it looks as if Sun and Moon have addressed some of the things I found frustrating about the previous installments, and that, coupled with reports from friends who say it's a lot more story-heavy than previous Pokémon games, makes me think I'm probably going to enjoy it a lot more.

One of the things that always frustrated me about earlier Pokémon games was the fact that it was pretty vague about things like debuffs and suchlike. "Pikachu's attack fell!" the game would say. "How much?" I would want to know. "Does that debuff stack if the opponent keeps using the same move?" Neither of those answers were particularly forthcoming in previous installments — or if they were, I certainly didn't know where to find them.

In Sun and Moon, however, there's a handy mid-battle status screen that allows you to see that yes, debuffs do stack, and how many times your Pokémon has been inflicted with a particular debuff. (It still doesn't tell you how much your stat has been reduced by, but you can make an educated guess as to the impact according to the levels of your Pokémon and your opponent.)

Even better, Sun and Moon use information from the Pokédex to allow you to quickly see which moves are effective, super-effective and not very effective against your current opponent, negating the need for constant flipping back and forth between menu screens or keeping copious notes on what was weak and strong against what. Doubtless for some purists learning all this stuff was part of the appeal, but the way Sun and Moon does things is a lot more friendly to people like me who haven't invested thousands of hours in the series as a whole.

These niggly little features aside, I'm impressed with the overall presentation of Sun and Moon, a lot more so than previous installments. While X and Y had some reasonably nice character models, their proportions were a bit weird in comparison to the official art. In Sun and Moon, meanwhile, the characters look just like their hand-drawn counterparts and are animated well, to boot. The only sign it's running on the underpowered 3DS hardware is any time the camera gets a bit close to a character and you can see big jagged pixels on the textures.

I'm not far enough in the story to be able to comment on it as yet, but the early introduction of the character Lillie — current darling of the fanart community, from what I can tell online — gives the story some interesting momentum right from the get-go, and the incidental characters are appealing and fun. In particular, the protagonist's mother is extremely likeable, helping to make your character's home feel a lot more… well, homely.

I'm looking forward to seeing how it develops further; I'm going to give it a proper chance this time around, even if I am currently attempting to juggle it with Final Fantasy XV, which is monopolising most of my gaming time at present. Perhaps I'll finally understand why people go apeshit for each new Pokémon release.

The post 2511: Maybe Catch Some of 'Em appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

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.

The post 2509: Still on Chapter Three appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

(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.

The post 2507: Into Duscae appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

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.

The post 2506: Fifteen appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

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.

The post 2505: Final Fantasy appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

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.

The post 2499: One Week to Go appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I first played Level-5's Dark Cloud midway through the PlayStation 2's lifecycle. I recall enjoying it enough to finish it, but finding it lacking in a few areas compared to some other role-playing games that were around at the time. Most of the criticisms I had of Dark Cloud were addressed by its sequel (known as Dark Chronicle here in Europe for some reason) but, regardless, I still have fond memories of the original.

Looking for something to fill the gap between now and Final Fantasy XV at the end of next month, I remembered that I'd bought several PS4 revamps of Level-5 games when they were part of a sale ages ago, but never booted them up. (Specifically, I got Dark Cloud, Dark Chronicle and Rogue Galaxy, the latter of which I've never played at all.) Since I played the demo of Dragon Quest Builders earlier in the week and heard it compared favourably to Dark Cloud and its sequel, I decided to fire up Dark Cloud and take another look, a good (probably) ten years or more after I played the original.

Interestingly, having played it for a couple of hours this evening, I'm finding myself liking it a lot more than when I played it the first time around. I'm not sure if it's a matter of my tastes changing (which, although I know they have a bit, haven't drifted that far away from what I enjoyed 10+ years ago) or if Dark Cloud has just aged very gracefully, but either way, I like it a lot.

For those who weren't around for Dark Cloud first time around for one reason or another, here's the gist. You play a teenage boy who looks a bit like a non-elfin Link in a poncho, who is a silent protagonist for the course of the adventure. In the opening moments of the game, your village is destroyed by a Dark Genie which, moments before, we saw had been unleashed on the world by an obviously evil gentleman in an M.Bison uniform and sporting a spectacular moustache. Somehow, you manage to survive through a windmill falling on top of you as you rescue your childhood friend and obvious love interest Paige from certain death.

Awakening to find your village nothing more than a bare patch of land, you start hearing voices. Specifically, the Fairy King decides you are his chosen one, and blesses you with the magical gem Atlamillia, which apparently will enable you to rebuild the world. Conveniently, the Fairy King explains, he managed to seal away all the people and buildings of the world in magical spheres called Atla to prevent them from certain annihilation at the hands of the Dark Genie, but unfortunately this wasn't enough to stop them from being scattered all over the place, with most of them rather inconveniently rolling in to local dungeons.

What then unfolds is a rather unusual adventure that alternates between action-RPG dungeon crawling in randomly generated maps, and a top-down building arrangement game called the Georama. The latter is sometimes described as a "sim", but it's not anything like as deep as something like ActRaiser or Dragon Quest Builders — all you have to do is find the component parts of each building, plop them down on the map, talk to the residents to figure out the right part of the map to put their building in (and which direction to face, in some cases) and then your job is done. In other words, there's no actual "management" required beyond making sure everything is in the right place, making it more of a puzzle than a simulation.

The Georama does give the dungeon crawling a unique twist, however — as well as finding treasures that your own character can use, you're also finding people and places, and in turn these can unlock new facilities for you to make use of when you return to the surface. Once you rebuild the Odd Gaffer's Buggy, for example, he'll start selling you items. Rebuild Paige's house and her father will teach you to fish. Even seemingly incidental houses will reward you with special events and items when you complete and place them correctly.

The Georama gameplay gives Dark Cloud an interesting sense of personality. Because you're quite literally rebuilding these people's lives from nothing, you get to know them quite well; far from being the random, anonymous NPCs you get wandering around towns in more conventional role-playing games, Dark Cloud's characters all have names and personalities. Some of them get along with one another; some of them don't (in which case you'll need to make sure their houses are far apart!).

Meanwhile, the dungeon crawling, although action-based, has plenty of aspects to get your teeth into. Your main concern, at least early in the game, is the game of "press your luck" you play with your supplies, because not only do you have to make sure your HP don't run out, you also have to keep yourself watered and ensure that your weapon doesn't break. This latter aspect is of particularly key importance, because weapons can be customised and level up through use, meaning if you break one it can potentially be absolutely heartbreaking.

The weapon growth and customisation system takes the place of a traditional experience and levels system. Instead, each weapon has its own level, with most capping at 5. Once they've capped, however, you can turn them into a gem that can be attached to another weapon in order to transfer some of the capped weapon's statistics and attributes. When the new weapon is upgraded, it absorbs the gem and becomes far more powerful than it would have been through just upgrading alone. Ultimately it becomes possible to construct some formidable weapons, making it all the more important that you don't inadvertently snap the blade on a passing rock monster.

Dark Cloud is charming and enjoyable, and there are still relatively few games quite like it; even Dragon Quest Builders itself is a distinct experience, focusing more on the town-building and crafting side of things than dungeon crawling. I think I made a good choice in revisiting it, and I'm looking forward to playing some more soon.

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Spent a bit more time with the non-story aspects of FFXIV's 3.4 patch Soul Surrender today, so here's a few thoughts with that in mind.

First up, I finished my first Wondrous Tails journal, albeit rather poorly, so I have a good handle of what that's all about now.

Wondrous Tails is a new weekly quest where you acquire a journal from the adorable young Miqo'te Khloe Aliapoh. Khloe wants to hear all about your adventures, so you agree to help her out by filling in her journal with tales of some of your exploits. You are then presented with 16 different challenges for the week, nine of which you need to clear to complete the journal.

On the opposite page to the challenges you are to face is a 4×4 grid of blank spaces for stickers. You acquire these stickers by completing the challenges — one per challenge, though you don't get to choose which sticker you get. Fill a line in the journal and there's a reward separate from the one for completing 9 challenges. Fill two lines and there's another reward. Fill three and there's another still. These rewards are significant, at higher tiers consisting of Allagan Tomestones of Scripture, the current "top end" endgame currency, and even item level 250 armour which, while not the best in the game at the moment, is certainly pretty good.

They are not, however, easy to accomplish, as I've discovered this week. It's not completely random chance as to whether or not you fill some lines — by helping new players complete duties for the first time, you earn "Second Chance" points, which can be used in one of two ways: firstly, to mark a completed challenge as incomplete while marking an incomplete one as complete. This effectively allows you to do something again while removing the need to do something you don't want to do. You can choose the complete challenge to make incomplete, but not the incomplete challenge to make complete. Alternatively, you can spend two Second Chance points to shuffle the entire board of seals (including the ones you've already placed) in the hope that you will get a more advantageous arrangement. In order to make three lines with nine seals, you need their placement to be absolutely perfect — a horizontal, a vertical and a diagonal. As such, it's a bit of a gamble that you can't necessarily rely on.

I gambled and failed, ending up with no lines at all by the time I had nine seals — you can only use the shuffle option when you have between three and seven seals, so you can't just shuffle a completed board around. Still, I at least got the reward for completing the journal for the week, which is meaningful in itself, and there's always next week to try again.

Next up, I jumped in to the randomly generated Palace of the Dead in an attempt to finish my Aetherpool weapon and get something to take the place of my outdated i210 Anima weapon until I can finish the upgrade process. New to Palace of the Dead in this patch is the addition of the Accursed Hoard, a series of hidden treasures that can only be located by using Pomanders of Intuition, which last until you unearth a piece of the Accursed Hoard. Your party banks the pieces of the Hoard until you complete the tier of the Palace that you're on, and like everything else, if you party wipes you lose them.

Assuming you successfully completed a tier, each piece of the Hoard the party acquired will reward you with a sealed sack which must be taken to a new NPC in Quarrymill to appraise. There then follows a gacha-style appraisal sequence, during which you can anticipate how good the item you're about to get is via the animation that plays (or not!) during the appraisal sequence. There are some decent items available through this system — in my first batch of three sacks, I got a paissa minion, the expensive Thavnairian Bustier top and a firework. In the seven other sacks I acquired throughout the evening, I got more fireworks. It seems fireworks are the default "normal" draw, at least from the common bronze sacks, but there seems to be an above-zero chance of getting rare items from this, too, making Palace of the Dead a worthwhile activity for reasons other than acquiring the weapon.

There's obviously a lot of RNG in both of these systems that I've described, and some people don't like that, preferring a predictable goal that you can take aim for and always see your progress towards. Final Fantasy XIV has always been heavily RNG-driven, however, and so these two systems, while having the potential for enormous frustration, are firmly in keeping with what we've come to expect from the game to date!

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Final Fantasy XIV patch day has come and gone, so I thought I'd share a few thoughts. I'm going to mostly talk about the Main Scenario quests in this post, so I'll put in a Read More link for those browsing the front page who don't want to accidentally see spoilers.

MAIN STORY SPOILERS AHEAD!

In numerous ways, I think Soul Surrender is the best content patch Final Fantasy XIV has had to date. Not only does it add numerous new gameplay systems — Wondrous Tails and Adventurer Squadrons mix up the action a bit, even if the latter is fairly bare-bones at the moment — but it has, I think, one of the best sets of Main Scenario quests the game has seen for a long time.

Soul Surrender unfolds after the events of Heavensward and its first three content patches came to an end, which is to say that the Dragonsong War is over, and the former Holy See of Ishgard has undergone a revolution and become a republic, with longtime Warrior of Light buddy Ser Aymeric in charge of keeping order. All has seemed peaceful for a while now that the Ishgardians and the dragons have successfully laid down their arms and starting the long healing process from their centuries-long conflict.

Right on cue, then, unrest stirs elsewhere in Eorzea, as rumours once again surface of the Warrior of Darkness and his companions. Their motivations aren't immediately apparent, but the end result of the chaos that they sow is that the realm's various beast tribes have been thrown into despair, leading them to once again, out of desperation, attempt to summon their Primal gods.

The Warrior of Light initially thwarts their scheme in the Ixali homeland of Xelphatol, just as the Ixal head honcho is in the process of finalising the process of re-summoning windy madam Garuda for the fifth(?) time since Final Fantasy XIV version 1.0. The battle at the end of Xelphatol is pretty spectacular and chaotic, with the boss actually using Summon Garuda as a move several times throughout the fight, forcing you to deal with some of Garuda's distinctive mechanics and area of effect attacks while simultaneously pummeling another boss altogether.

Following this, rumours abound that something similarly suspicious is going on with the kobolds near O'Ghomoro in Upper La Noscea on the isle of Vylbrand. The Warrior of Light and the Scions go to investigate only to discover a Maelstrom camp mildly inflicted with chaos by the apparent presence of a kobold intruder. The Warrior of Light eventually chases this interloper down, and it turns out to be a child kobold that recognises his elders are preparing to summon Titan once again, and that this is a very bad idea indeed, particularly as numerous adult kobolds — including his parents — have been taken away, never to be seen again. The Warrior of Light and the Scions conjecture that these missing kobolds may have been killed and their remains used for ritualistic purposes in summoning Titan, but resolve to investigate rather than jumping to any conclusions.

The Warrior of Light arrives, with the young kobold in tow, at The Navel, deep within O'Ghomoro. The ritual for summoning Titan is reaching its final stages, but has not yet been completed, but things are thrown into chaos when the young kobold spies the bodies of his parents lying motionless next to the head of his tribe and his henchmen, apparently having been used as the latest sacrifices to appease the Lord of Crags. The young kobold, completely grief-stricken and filled with absolute despair at the loss of his only family, screams out in pain, and the sound of his anguish awakens Titan once more.

In gameplay terms, this then provided an opportunity for the game to reuse the Titan Hard Mode level 50 fight, but a severe emotional gutpunch is delivered during the battle when you see that Titan's lines — usually of the "Bow down, overdweller!" variety — have all been changed to the young kobold's various screams of anguish, with Titan's ultimate ability coinciding with the kobold screeching "WAKE UP!!!", at a complete loss as to how he can possibly handle the devastation his life has just suffered.

The young kobold is left in the care of the Maelstrom soldiers, who promise to take care of him rather than put him to the sword, as is usually the approach taken to those "lost" to the Primals' influence. At the last moment, the young kobold regains his voice, still full of pain and grief, but starting to show that his tribe's god doesn't quite have a hold of him just yet.

In the meantime, the Warrior of Light and the Scions are called away to Little Ala Mhigo in South Thanalan, where they hear rumours of further unrest — specifically, a suspiciously large shipment of crystals which makes the group think that another Primal summoning is imminent. Indeed, when they encounter a mysterious figure known as "The Griffin", who appears to have become a prominent individual among the Ala Mhigan refugees, and who promises that his countrymen have a "great power" hidden within them, it seems all but certain that something is amiss.

However, the Warrior of Light and the Scions uncover the truth in short order: the shipment of crystals was not for the Ala Mhigans to attempt to summon a Primal in an ill-advised attempt to retake their homeland from the Garlean Empire. Instead, it was used as a trade with the local Amal'jaa, who apparently wanted to use it to summon their Primal Ifrit once again.

Upon arriving at the Bowl of Embers, hoping to stop the summoning ritual, The Warrior of Light and her companions discover that the Amal'jaa have, in fact, been decimated ahead of their arrival, and waiting for them in the Bowl of Embers is not the fiery Primal Ifrit, but the Warrior of Darkness and his party of companions.

A grand battle ensues, with both sides competing to channel their aether into one of their number who can best handle it, and eventually strike the other down. The Warrior of Darkness and his companions fight for their very lives, for they believe they are fighting to save their world — a parallel world to Hydaelyn, and one which runs the risk of being consumed not by Darkness, but by a surfeit of Light. They seek to redress the balance between the worlds, all of which are shards of what was once a greater reality, and they even gave up their corporeal lives and very souls in order to be able to travel between the worlds by means of crystals, much as the Ascians do.

Utterly defeated by the Warrior of Light, however, both sides of the conflict are drawn into the mysterious space between worlds where Hydaelyn has previously addressed the Warrior of Light alone through the Echo. Minfilia, revealed a while back to have transcended her mortal existence and become the Voice of the Mother, speaking for Hydaelyn herself, agrees to journey back to the Warrior of Darkness' ruined world and take into herself the excess of light in an attempt to stave off the cataclysm that threatens to turn it into the antithesis of the Void, itself another of these parallel worlds that was previously consumed by Darkness.

We're left with a number of questions. Chief among them is the matter of what The Griffin is really up to. It transpires that The Griffin the Warrior of Light and her companions met was merely a figurehead; the real Griffin is much more hesitant to show his face, but clearly has plans to retake Ala Mhigo, perhaps with the assistance of the Ascians, who never do anything for free.

And then in the final scene we see Nero tol Scaeva, last seen after our adventures in the Crystal Tower and the World of Darkness, stumbling across some ominous-looking Allagan ruins. He claims to have finally found something. But what? The smart money is on Omega Weapon, which could well spell disaster for all of Eorzea and beyond if true. We'll have to wait and see what happens next in the final content patch for Heavensward in three months' time, at which point we should have some information about what we can expect from the new expansion.

Exciting times for the Realm, indeed. And this is just the main story! I'm pretty certain that for me, this has been one of the best "episodes" of the game to date, and I can't wait to see how it continues.

I haven't even touched the grand finale of Alexander, yet, and I still have plenty of other adventures to catch up on, too. There'll be plenty of time for those tomorrow, though… for now, probably time for bed for this particular Warrior of Light!

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I finished up Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force this evening, including getting the Platinum trophy, and I've come away thoroughly satisfied with what is possibly Compile Heart's best game to date, although it's a close-run thing between this and MegaDimension Neptunia V-II.

I was particularly impressed by how much the two new narrative paths diverged from the original Fairy Fencer F's storyline — while they involve many of the same dungeons, locales and characters, the important stuff about the story is very different indeed, right from the characters' personalities in some cases all the way to their motivations and eventual goals.

I found the fact that the game wasn't afraid to be a bit dark to be very much in its favour. Its colourful Tsunako character designs would suggest an adventure similar in tone to the Neptunia series, but in actual fact Fairy Fencer F is lighter on the comedy, heavier on the drama and even tragedy at times. That's not to say there isn't any comedy at all — what comedy there is tends to be well-timed in order to lighten the mood after some particularly heavy exposition — but it's not the main point of it all.

This seems to be a direction that Compile Heart is moving in with its recent releases, and one that it seems to feel comfortable with. The Neptunia series has been expressing greater confidence with storytelling as it has proceeded, too — while the first game felt a bit like a string of amusing events loosely tied together with the semblance of an overarching plot, mk2/Re;Birth2 took a much darker tone with some truly odious villains (and one of the series' most notoriously unpleasant optional endings) and Victory/Re;Birth3 had a much stronger sense that it had been composed as a complete story rather than a series of episodes. As for MegaDimension Neptunia V-II, that had its darker elements — particularly towards the end — and consequently, narratively speaking, was the most "structurally sound" of the series.

I didn't play the original Fairy Fencer F when it came out, but I've now experienced that game's story thanks to Advent Dark Force's Goddess arc. It's clear that Compile Heart wants to experiment with more ambitious narratives, but thought, quite rightly so, that Neptunia probably wasn't the best place to do it (although that said, mk2's Conquest ending is effective precisely because it is so tonally dissonant with what you've been conditioned to expect from the rest of the series). Fairy Fencer F jumps in headfirst with a likeable cast of rogues, many of whom are a bit morally ambiguous, and which Advent Dark Force does a good job in exploring over the course of its three distinct narrative paths.

Perhaps most striking about Advent Dark Force is that it isn't afraid to let main characters die — something that would be unthinkable in a Neptunia game, regardless of how dark the overall plot got — and it demonstrates this early on. In most of the narrative paths, which take place after a "time loop" at the end of the common route, then diverge in three very different directions, protagonist Fang seeks to atone for the deaths he directly or indirectly caused in the common route, with varying degrees of success. Each path features a different combination of characters from the complete playable cast, with some of these characters dying or even being on the "other side" in different routes.

Of particular note is the character Sherman, who — mild spoiler, sorry — is the villain in the original Fairy Fencer F story, but in the Vile God arc he spends a significant amount of time being the protagonist in Fang's absence. In the Evil Goddess arc, meanwhile, he has a more complex role that I'll leave for you to discover.

One of the other great things about the additional routes in Advent Dark Force is that it gives some of the "filler" characters from the original something to do. Fairy-loving scientist Harley, for example, doesn't have a whole lot to do in the original game's narrative, but in the Evil Goddess arc in particular she plays a leading role. Likewise, in both the Vile God and Evil Goddess arcs we see a lot more of the taciturn child assassin Ethel, including how she became the person she was and how it came to be that she could only communicate through the word "kill" with varying intonation.

After having finished all three routes, I'm left with the feeling that I have when I finish a good visual novel: I have a good, solid understanding of all the characters, the situations in which they found themselves and the world which they inhabited. And, if the post-credits sequence in the Evil Goddess arc — clearly intended to be the "true" path — is anything to go by, then I have little doubt that we're going to see more of these characters in the future. I certainly wouldn't complain about more Fairy Fencer F games if it gives Compile Heart a chance to spread their wings and explore more ambitious narrative themes — particularly if the game itself is as good as Advent Dark Force ended up being.

I'll say one more time for now: if you're still ignoring (or worse, deriding) Compile Heart games and call yourself a fan of JRPGs, you're missing out on some great experiences. Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force is a good entry point to start exploring their work for yourself if you feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of Neptunia out there already; if you enjoy good, traditional JRPG stories, solid combat, wonderfully loathsome villains (one of them even does the ol' "ohohohohohoho!" beloved of '90s anime) and a colourful, immensely memorable cast of characters you can't go wrong with this one.

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With it being Final Fantasy XIV's third anniversary it's only fitting that I take a look back at the reason I've been playing it since its closed beta — and why, even though on several occasions I've felt like I might be "done" with the game, I keep on coming back, time after time.

These memories are presented in no particular order, but it makes the most sense to start with this one.

Knowing FFXIV was going to be something special

I jumped into Final Fantasy XIV's closed beta after a casual discussion with a Twitter friend about Final Fantasy XI and how much I liked it despite never really getting all that far with it. Eventually I found myself with an invite to the testing period of the game, and I was immediately smitten with it. Everything about it felt Final Fantasy. The look, the feel, the music, the controls, the battles, the monsters — and yet, it had enough of its own unique identity to make it feel like far more than just series fanservice.

Specifically, Final Fantasy XIV adopts a somewhat "dark fantasy" tone throughout, clearly heavily inspired by works such as Game of Thrones and The Witcher in places. Sure, there are still moogles and chocobos, but there are also complicated political machinations, betrayal, murder and, technically, just prior to the start of 2.0's story, apocalyptic catastrophes.

I was immediately drawn into the world in a way that World of Warcraft never quite managed to enrapture me. NPC dialogue, although localised with more than a few liberties taken from the original Japanese, much to the chagrin of people who play with Japanese voiceovers, was beautifully written with an almost Shakespearean tone in places, blending old- and middle-English words and phrases with modern spellings to make it actually comprehensible.

The fact that Final Fantasy XIV placed any emphasis on its main story at all — let alone to the degree that it has ended up doing so — was a unique feeling for me. Even its predecessor Final Fantasy XI's main story had felt like a side activity you did when you had done enough level grinding to be able to take on the next mission; here, the main story was tightly tied in with your character's progression: you advanced through the levels and became more powerful both in terms of mechanics and narrative, until you eventually reached level 50 and took on your most terrifying challenges yet.

During the closed beta, I only played up to about level 20 or so, but that was enough to know that I wanted to keep playing — and to know that I wouldn't mind when the servers were wiped post-beta to prepare for the start of live service.

Making some great friends

My friend who had urged me to try out FFXIV was all set to assemble a Free Company — FFXIV's take on guilds — as soon as the facility became available, and many members of that free company, centred around the Giant Bomb video games website, became great friends. I even took a trip to PAX East to hang out with a bunch of them and had an absolute blast. And while I recently left said Free Company in favour of a smaller group who are more local to where my wife and I are, FFXIV's various ways of keeping in touch — as well as extra-game means of communication like Discord — mean that I'll never be far away from this band of loveable rogues.

Castrum and Prae keeping me up until 5am

When I reached level 50, I was proud. The only other MMO I'd ever reached the level cap in prior to that day was World of Warcraft, and I'd stopped playing shortly afterwards, as my lack of friends playing had made that game a rather lonely experience at high level — this was the days before its current Dungeon Finder system, itself inspired by FFXIV's Duty Finder.

I'd heard the final two story dungeons, intended to be done pretty much as soon as you hit 50, were quite an experience, and so I asked the Free Company very nicely to accompany me on my first run through them. This was — and still is — the best way to run these dungeons, since they're both full of cutscenes, and running with a completely preformed party means no risk of other people running ahead and starting boss fights while you're still watching dramatic scenes.

The experience of running Castrum Meridianum and Praetorium left such an impact on me that I immediately wrote about it on USgamer. It remains one of my fondest gaming memories to date, and it makes me a bit sad that people coming to it now will more than likely be partied up with a group of people who outgear it to such a degree that every boss fight is a complete steamrollering. Pro-tip, then — if you're just hitting 50 for the first time and you have 7 friends handy, queue up for Castrium then Prae and check the "minimum item level" option in Duty Finder in order to experience these two dungeons at their original difficulty level from shortly after launch.

Entering the Coil

I happened to be up and about one night when some Free Company-mates were heading into the endgame raid dungeon The Binding Coil of Bahamut. At this point, the raid had been "unlocked" because better gear than it offered was already available, and so it was there for people to run just for the experience of the unique story it offered, as well as unlocking subsequent chapters.

Coil was a whole other level of the game for me. The encounters were much more complex, they demanded much more coordination and awareness of what was going on, and the unique story, music and enemies you fought in there made it feel like a truly "special" experience.

Forming LoCoBomb and tackling Coil proper

Loose Cannons, or LoCo, were Giant Bomb's neighbours in the Limsa Lominsa housing district of Mist, and they're now my new Free Company. LoCo is a tiny little group compared to the hundreds of members of Giant Bomb (many of whom are inactive players, but still) but we struck up a mutual friendship with one another, even going so far as to put together a rather casual, slapdash static for tackling The Binding Coil of Bahamut, a little later than much of the rest of the player base, but tackling it nonetheless.

Raiding together was a great way for us to get to know one another better, and we had a lot of fun times working out way through the first four Turns until we hit our first real barrier: Turn 5.

Toppling Twintania

Turn 5 of Coil was originally the hardest fight in the entire game, facing a party of 8 players off against the rather angry dragon Twintania. Accompanied by the fantastic piece of music Thunderer, this was a genuinely terrifying confrontation in which you really felt like you were battling against insurmountable odds.

Twintania was our first real encounter with having to properly coordinate raid tactics thanks to now-notorious mechanics such as Divebombs and Twisters. Taking her down for the first time was an incredible feeling, only to be matched by the time we finally bested the final boss of the Second Coil of Bahamut.

Nailing Nael

Turn 9 of Coil — or Turn 4 of Second Coil, if you prefer — quickly took over from Turn 5 as being the hardest fight in the game, mostly due to how unforgiving it was. The fight featured a wide variety of tasty instant death mechanics and even a few sections where careless play could wipe the rest of the raid without too much difficulty.

After a long slog through Second Coil — Turn 6 gave us a lot of grief, though the subsequent two went a little smoother — LoCoBomb persevered and were eventually victorious, however, and we still weren't sick of the two incredible boss themes Tempest and Rise of the White Raven.

This encounter remains, to date, my favourite boss fight of all time in any game ever. Ten character levels, over a hundred item levels and one expansion later and it's still not particularly easy to clear.

Phoenix from the Flames

A lot of people will note that Turn 12 — Turn 3 of Final Coil — is as memorable an encounter as the grand finale Turn 13, and I'd certainly agree with that. Resolving a large number of questions surrounding what really happened at the end of Final Fantasy XIV 1.0, Turn 12 sees the party facing off against the iconic Phoenix, accompanied by this magnificent arrangement of the game's main theme Answers. I still get shivers every time I hear it. And the recent The Rising event in the game now brought it out at the perfect moment to genuinely give me goosebumps all over my body.

The Final Witness

The final battle in Final Coil is appropriately spectacular. It wasn't horrendously difficult by the time we got to it — each subsequent patch had increased the amount of bonus HP and damage you'd be blessed with when you went in, theoretically allowing more and more people of lesser skill and/or gear to enjoy all of Coil's story — but it was still an immensely worthy absolutely, positively, definitely final boss. And it made incredible use of Answers.

An in-game marriage and a real-life proposal

(if the embed doesn't work, go here to embarrass me)

January 3, 2015: Amarysse Jerhynsson married W'khebica Qimi (now Wuckle Bunny, because no-one can spell authentic Mi'qote names properly). During this process, the player behind Amarysse Jerhynsson — yours truly — made a rather lengthy virtual speech that culminated in him proposing to the player behind W'khebica Qimi, who was sitting in her study upstairs from him at the time.

We married in June 2015. And who says computer games are antisocial?

Heavensward and beyond

The first full expansion for Final Fantasy XIV was an exciting moment, as it would take us to brand new areas, see us tackling brand new dungeons and battling fierce new foes. It was everything most people hoped for, with an excellent story — to some, better even than A Realm Reborn's at times meandering narrative — and one hell of a final boss fight.

While the long lull between Heavensward's release and the first major content patch finally arrived with us was, I feel, largely responsible for the fact that my former Free Company are no longer quite as obviously "active" (at least in public channels) as they used to be, Heavensward has, on the whole, been a great evolution of A Realm Reborn's base, even introducing a number of brand new types of content to the mix, with my favourite being the new randomly generated Deep Dungeon.

Heavensward's raid scene hasn't appealed that much — I'm not really a fan of steampunk in general, and the narrative set up around Alexander was feeble and unmemorable compared to the majesty of Coil — but there's still been plenty of stuff to do, and as we saw with the Live Letter yesterday, there will continue to be more and more stuff to do as we start the buildup to the second full expansion, set to be revealed for the first time in October.

It's not many games you can play almost continually for three years and still look upon fondly, but I guess anything you spend that much time in the company of eventually becomes something you really, truly can't ever let go of.

It's hard to get this across to people who haven't been on the journey I've been on, and it probably won't be quite the same for someone who starts right now, but I stand by my nomination of Final Fantasy XIV as my Game of the Year for 2013 over on USgamer, and given the number of hours I've played, it's probably my GotY for 2014, 2015 and 2016 too.

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Upon realising that the Spike Chunsoft enhanced remake of One Way Heroics was, in fact, coming out in just three weeks' time, I decided to revisit the original game, which has long been one of my favourite takes on the roguelike genre thanks to it being quite unlike pretty much any other game I've ever played.

For the unfamiliar, One Way Heroics places you in a randomly generated world map that continuously scrolls, like those old Super Mario World levels that everyone hated. This being a turn-based roguelike, however, One Way Heroics only scrolls when you take an action, be this moving, attacking or fiddling around with something in your inventory.

The aim of the game is ostensibly to defeat the Demon Lord and save the remaining part of the world from being consumed by the mysterious darkness that is just out of shot on the left side of the screen. More often than not, you will fail in your task, either by yourself being caught in said mysterious darkness by miscalculating how many turns it would take you to cross the mountain range you found yourself stuck in the middle of, by dying embarrassingly to a nearby feral dog who gave you a nasty nip right in your most sensitive areas, or by forgetting you had a bag full of highly flammable (and explosive) items and then going toe-to-toe with a fire-breathing imp.

It's not an insurmountable challenge, though. In fact, defeating the Demon Lord is more a matter of persistence than anything else; she (yes, spoiler, she's a she) appears at regular intervals throughout your journey, sticks around for a few in-game hours during which you can either attempt to do some damage or run away from her, then she disappears again for a bit. Damage you deal persists from encounter to encounter, though she does have the chance to heal a few HP and erect a few magical barriers in between your various clashes. As such, so long as you can keep yourself alive, you can eventually wear her down bit by bit rather than having to defeat her all in one go.

Except, if you look a bit deeper into the game, defeating the Demon Lord isn't the only way to finish the game. In fact, it's arguably the easiest way to clear the game, since the other endings mostly require all manner of convoluted requirements and lucky rolls on the ol' random number generator. That said, the game's "Dimensional Vault" system does at least allow you to carry useful items over from playthrough to playthrough, so you can effectively prepare for the more complex conclusions a bit at a time, much like preparing to fight the Demon Lord, only over the course of several playthroughs instead of just one.

The other ways to beat the game vary from defeating the Darkness itself (which requires a Holy weapon, a very rare find indeed) to reaching the End of the World at the 2000km mark. The subsequently released One Way Heroics Plus expansion also added a number of other ways to clear the game, including finding your way into a whole other dimension to discover who or what is really behind this whole creeping darkness thing, and then either surviving until the end of that dimension or defeating said ne'er do well once and for all.

On top of all that, there are character-specific endings, too. During each playthrough, you have a chance of encountering a number of different non-player characters who, assuming you meet the prerequisite requirements to recruit them (usually some combination of cash and charisma levels) can join your party. As they fight alongside you and you meet various conditions (different for each character), they gain affection for you, and after having had three separate conversations with them, revealing their backstory and the truth about themselves — including, in many cases, why there appears to be a version of them in each and every dimension out there, more than aware of what you're up to — clearing the game gives you their unique ending on top of whichever particular finale you went for.

These little stories that are attached to the party members are one of the most interesting things about One Way Heroics, because they elevate it above being a simple mechanics-based roguelike and give it a touch of narrative. Not enough to be obtrusive — the emphasis is still very much on preparing your character to clear the game in whichever way you deem most appropriate — but enough to give you a real feel for who these people are and what their place in the entire mystery of One Way Heroics is.

One particularly interesting thing about them is that you can go a very long time without encountering any of them at all, and thus assume that One Way Heroics is entirely mechanics-based. Another is that their storylines are all pretty dark in tone right up until the end, which is all the more effective due to the fairly breezy tone the rest of the game has going on. I defy anyone not to shed a tear at Queen Frieda's ending in particular, though I shan't spoil it here.

Replaying One Way Heroics over the last few days has reminded me quite how much I like this quirky little game, and I'm extremely excited to see how the new version pans out in comparison. From the looks of things, it takes the basic mechanics of the original and gives it a fresh coat of paint along with a new setting and storyline, plus a number of guest characters from other games including Danganronpa and Shiren the Wanderer.

All being well, I'm probably going to devote next month on MoeGamer to this game, its expansion and its new version, which will be out partway through the month. It's an underappreciated gem, for sure, and one which everyone the slightest bit interested in the more unusual side of RPGs owes it to themselves to check out.

The post 2405: Revisiting One Way Heroics appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Final Fantasy XV was originally due to come out at the end of next month. Today, director Tabata officially confirmed the rumours that have been swirling around the Internet for the last couple of days: the game has been delayed until November 29.

Tabata announced the delay in a video on the game's official YouTube channel.

His reasoning behind the delay was that, although the team had finally completed the "master version" of the game, meaning a version that was feature-complete and that they would be happy releasing to consumers on disc, they had already started work on some additional content and adjustments that would normally be distributed as a "day one patch" to be applied automatically when a Final Fantasy XV player had their console connected to the Internet.

The trouble with day one patches, though, is that they're not part of that master game experience. They're not on the disc; they're reliant on an Internet connection. And while the "not everyone has an Internet connection" argument is rapidly losing steam as broadband becomes more and more affordable and ubiquitous, there's still a fundamental problem with them from an archiving perspective. In other words, if someone interested in the history of gaming were to become interested in checking out Final Fantasy XV some twenty or thirty years down the line, it's doubtful the PS4's PSN servers would still be up and running to allow them to download the patch, and as such they'd be left with an inferior — although, in this case, still complete — version to explore.

In some cases, day one patches contain essential bug fixes that actually get the game working, meaning the game is unplayable straight from the disc. And in others, they fundamentally shake up the structure of the game — the day one patch for No Man's Sky is a good example of this latter instance. There are very few cases where they are desirable, although sometimes developers are left with no choice — if a game is rushed out of the door to meet a deadline, for example, or if in last-minute testing after the game has been duplicated several million times, a major problem is found.

With Final Fantasy XV being such a big project, though, it seems that Tabata and his team have been given the flexibility to hold the game's release back until it meets with their high standards, however, and Tabata himself notes that he is uncomfortable with releasing a disc-based version of a game that isn't the very best version it can possibly be. He's not ruling out future patches and DLC — and the existence of a "Season Pass" for the game confirms that there are going to be a number of substantial add-ons for Final Fantasy XV — but he wants that initial day one experience to be as smooth as possible for all players around the world, regardless of whether or not they have an Internet connection or are able to download the day one patch.

This, ladies and gents, is how you make a video game. It's what we used to expect from previous, non Internet-connected consoles, and it's something that we have lost sight of in the modern age, where attention-deficient mobile game-playing audiences bray and whine if games don't receive "updates" every two weeks, even where none are necessary. While it's disappointing that this no longer means I'll be playing Final Fantasy XV next month, I respect Tabata and his team enormously for wanting to make their game the very best it can be before it gets into the players' grubby little hands.

I guess that means I have time to play through Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force before Final Fantasy XV after all, then…

The post 2400: Final Fantasy XV Delayed for All the Right Reasons appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

A while back, I wrote a piece on my other site MoeGamer about how free-to-play games had quietly got good. While there is, make no mistake, still a veritable flood of absolute shit being released on a seemingly daily basis, occasionally someone gets it right, and it's worth celebrating when they do.

Which brings us to Final Fantasy Brave Exvius, a free-to-play mobile game developed as a collaboration between Final Fantasy rights holder Square Enix and mobile game specialists Alim and Gumi.

The astute among you will recognise the latter two as being behind Brave Frontier, one of the mobile games I had previously praised for not being a total pile of shit. Brave Frontier wasn't without its problems — most notably a lack of any real strategy in the combat thanks to a relatively limited number of things you could do — but so far as mobile free-to-play RPGs went, it was certainly one of the better ones, featuring an interesting story with some enjoyable characterisation and a wide variety of units presented in beautiful pixel art.

FFBE, as I shall refer to it from hereon, is essentially Brave Frontier 2 with a Final Fantasy skin. And that's not a bad thing at all, because it manages to fix the few issues I had with Brave Frontier while simultaneously being a surprisingly decent Final Fantasy game in its own right.

I'll rewind a moment for the benefit of those not already familiar with Brave Frontier and explain FFBE.

In FFBE, you take on the role of Rain, a young and rather idealistic member of the castle knights, who appears to have some unresolved daddy issues in true Final Fantasy tradition. Rain is accompanied by his longstanding friend Laswell, who ironically seems to have gotten on with Rain's father better than Rain himself. While out on patrol, Rain and Laswell encounter some strange happenings, including a mysterious girl called Fina trapped in a crystal and a man in dark armour who appears to be up to no good.

Unsurprisingly, the man in dark armour is indeed up to no good, and Rain and Laswell return to their home city to find it has been attacked. Their adventure then begins in an attempt to determine what the motivations of the black-clad man are and who exactly this "Fina" girl actually is.

Gameplay has a number of components. Firstly is the metagame, where you collect various units by "summoning" them using premium currency (which the game is pretty generous about doling out for reaching significant milestones), summon tickets (which often come as rewards for logging in regularly, or as part of events) or "friend points" accumulated when making use of your friends' units. The units vary in strength and their rough power level is denoted by a "star" rating — the more stars, the more powerful, or rather, the more stars, the more potential a unit has, because in order to make it useful, you're going to have to level it up. In other words, a fully levelled two-star unit may well be a better choice than a completely unlevelled four-star unit.

Levelling up can be accomplished in two ways: by gaining experience from participating in battle (an option that was absent in Brave Frontier) or by "fusing" it with other, unneeded units. In the latter case, you can fuse a unit with any other unit, but there are particular benefits if you fuse with an identical unit, or with a special "experience" unit, the latter providing you with significantly more experience points than a regular unit and thus being the best means of quickly levelling a character if you happen to have any on hand.

Your party can also be equipped with weapons, armour and accessories, which improve their stats to varying degrees, and most units can also equip up to two additional Abilities above and beyond their innate abilities that they acquire as they level up. In this way, you can customise your units as you see fit according to the challenges you know you're likely to be facing, or simply munchkin them all with the best gear possible so you can steamroller your way through every encounter.

On top of the battle units, you'll also acquire Espers a la Final Fantasy VI along the way, which can be attached to specific characters to provide them with various passive bonuses as well as a super Summon attack when a meter fills up to maximum in battle. Espers can be levelled up independently of characters, though you have to use collected materials to do this rather than just grinding, and each level awards them with Skill Points that can be used to unlock various abilities, both passive and active.

Once you're finished fiddling with your party lineup, you can either visit a town or go into battle. Pleasingly, visiting towns is presented in traditional top-down RPG style and there are even sidequests to complete, giving a great degree of personality to the world that Brave Frontier lacked somewhat, thanks to it being entirely menu-driven. For those for whom time is money, however, there's also a quick access menu that quickly warps you around town to the important places like the shops, though in doing this you'll probably miss out on NPCs who might have useful information or quests for you.

When you choose to go into battle, there are several different ways you can do this. You can advance the story, which presents you with a string of battles that you have to complete without stopping, punctuated by cutscenes. You can "explore" an area you previously completed the story for, which again goes into a top-down RPG-style exploration mode punctuated with random battle encounters. You can visit the Colosseum to battle monsters and earn points towards various prizes. Or you can enter the Vortex to the Farplane, which has a different special dungeon every day, plus a series of other specialised dungeons that you can unlock as you desire — one for free, additional ones for premium currency. These specialised dungeons provide a convenient means of acquiring experience points for your units, money, crafting materials or other materials needed to power up units or Espers, but the payoff is they tend to cost significantly more energy to jump into than story missions.

Yes, there's an energy system, but like in Brave Frontier, if you manage it carefully it never becomes an issue. Following story quests tends to see you level your player up regularly enough that your energy bar rarely empties — not only does its capacity expand when you level up, but it also gets refilled to maximum — so this is the best thing to do if you're spending a bit of time with the game. Alternatively, if you know you only have a few minutes, by far the most effective use of your energy is to tackle the most difficult Vortex dungeons you can manage, as not only will this burn through your energy but it will also provide you with far more loot and experience than regular missions tend to provide in the same amount of time.

The battle system itself is very much like Brave Frontier, with one notable exception: units have more options than just attacking or using their special Burst attack when it's charged up. Individual units can use items now, rather than you using items on your party from your omniscient overseer perspective, and each unit unlocks individual abilities as they gain levels, which are appropriate either to their Job if they're generic units or appropriate to their original incarnation if they're making a guest appearance from another Final Fantasy.

Yes, indeed, Brave Exvius features a considerable amount of series fanservice by incorporating characters from past Final Fantasy games, and they work exactly as they should; Edgar from Final Fantasy VI has his machinist "Tools" abilities present and correct, for example, while more magically-inclined characters have plenty of magic spells to fling around to take advantage of enemies' elemental weaknesses.

Which perhaps brings us to an obvious question: is this better than Final Fantasy Record Keeper, which is also a fanservice-heavy Final Fantasy free-to-play mobile game?

Yes, it is. And I don't hesitate one bit when saying that.

Record Keeper is a clunky mess of a game, with loading screens literally every time you tap a button. It's slow, sluggish, poorly optimised and generally a chore to play, and even the wonderful SNES-style pixel art depictions of every Final Fantasy from I to XIV don't make up for this. Record Keeper also has no real focus; it sees you leaping around from timeline to timeline pretty much at random, attempting to act as a sort of Final Fantasy Greatest Hits but losing all sense of coherence in the process. This lack of focus also extends to its progression and collection systems, in which you collect characters, but also equipment items, and the main "fuse and improve" mechanics come with the far less interesting equipment than the characters; it's way less fun to upgrade a sword that supposedly appeared in Final Fantasy XII than it is to buff up Balthier to the max.

Record Keeper makes nostalgia the main — no, the sole — point of its existence, and it suffers for this, particularly when it comes to the underrepresented Final Fantasies like XIV and XI. FFBE, meanwhile, uses nostalgia wisely; it just drip-feeds you classic characters without making a big deal about it, and it doesn't demand any knowledge of the previous games — if you're a Final Fantasy newcomer, you might just find that Firion is an awesome fighter, but if you know your Final Fantasy history, you'll have an understanding of where he actually came from, for example.

FFBE, while suffering from occasional loading breaks and the requirement to be online at all times while playing, at least preloads enough stuff into memory for it not to have to load after every button press, and both in combat and when wandering around town, it's smooth as butter.

Oh, and FFBE is also a beautiful-looking game. And a beautiful-sounding game, featuring one of the best Final Fantasy battle themes of all time. Yes, seriously. Listen.

Basically… look, it's really good, all right? And regular readers will know I don't say that lightly about free-to-play games.

Check it out here on Android, and here on iOS.

The post 2386: Final Fantasy Brave Exvius: Doing F2p Mobile Games Right appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Doubtless I'll be writing about this in more detail at some point in the near future over on MoeGamer, but while it's still new and fresh I thought I'd give some initial impressions on Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force, Compile Heart's latest PS4 release.

FFF:ADF, as I will refer to it hereafter, is a Neptunia Re;Birth-style reimagining of the PlayStation 3 game Fairy Fencer F. It includes the whole story of the original game, updated and expanded with all-new mechanics, plus a whole bunch of brand new content as well, making for what looks to be an absolutely sprawling mammoth of a JRPG that I'm very much looking forward to sinking my teeth into.

For the uninitiated, FFF:ADF casts you in the role of Fang, a lazy asshole who we're introduced to as he's been locked in prison for stealing bread. Three days earlier, it transpires, Fang pulled a legendary sword known as a Fury out of the ground, and thus found his fate inextricably intertwined with the adorably cute but rather headstrong fairy Eryn. Fang, wanting nothing more than a good meal and a warm bed, finds himself rather hastily recruited into a quest to find all 100 other Furies scattered around the world and use the power of the Fairies within to wake up the Goddess and prevent some sort of horrible catastrophe from occurring.

FFF:ADF follows Compile Heart's usual RPG formula fairly closely. Town scenes are menu-based and allow you to visit a number of different locations to purchase and sell items or just chat with NPCs. As you progress through the game, more facilities become available in town.

When you leave town, you'll likely be entering one of the game's dungeons, which are filled with enemies you can see wandering around the map, and perhaps an event and/or a boss fight to complete.

Striking an enemy with your weapon while you're in the field — a challenge made significantly easier than in the Neptunia series by the simple addition of a visual and auditory cue when you're in range to connect a hit — allows you to get the jump on an enemy; mistiming it or letting an enemy run into your back, conversely, lets them ambush you.

Combat initially appears similar to the Neptunia series but there's a few twists on the basic formula. For starters, characters only begin with a basic attack rather than a multi-hit combo. Multi-hit combos can be unlocked later — and they include fighting game-style techniques such as launching and juggling enemies — but initially the bulk of your damage will probably come from your special skills, which are further subdivided into weapon skills and magic spells.

The thing that's looking most interesting about FFF:ADF at this early stage is its progression system. Whereas Neptunia's character progression was completely linear — though once you unlocked abilities you could customise your characters to a minor degree, and Megadimension Neptunia made more of this by making different weapons capable of different combos — in FFF:ADF you earn WP ("Weapon Points") through combat, which can then be spent on unlocking abilities, buffing stats and activating passive skills. In practice, there's probably a "right" order to unlock things in — and if previous Compile Heart RPGs are anything to go by, you'll probably unlock everything by the time you're through — but it's nice to at least feel like you have some options.

Other cool features include a battle system that allows up to six party members at a time, which will hopefully make for some interesting encounters later in the game — I only have two characters at present! Neptunia's Challenge system is back, too, providing you with useful stat boosts in exchange for completing various tasks.

It's early days yet, but FFF:ADF looks like Compile Heart's most polished title to date; there's none of the weird screen tearing from Omega Quintet and, so far, none of the frame drops of Megadimension Neptunia, and the 2D art (courtesy of Neptunia artist Tsunako) is as gorgeous as ever.

I'm looking forward to seeing what this game has to offer; everything I've heard from people who have already played it makes me feel like it's going to be a really solid JRPG, and I'm excited to see what other gameplay features I'll be fiddling around with as I progress further.

The post 2383: Fencing with Fairies appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I quit Final Fantasy XIV today.

I am sad about this. Really, genuinely sad. The game has been an important part of my life for quite some time now, and will always be special to me — hell, it's where I proposed to my wife.

But I think I'm gone for good this time. I've just had enough.

Not of the game, mind you; the game itself remains one of my favourites, with an enjoyably rhythmic combat system, plenty of distinction between classes and some truly memorable encounters — not to mention an incredible soundtrack and a great story.

No, I've had enough of the people who infest it.

The community's slide into unpleasantness has been a gradual but noticeable process. Whereas I described FFXIV's player base in my USgamer review (circa 2.0-era A Realm Reborn) as one of the most helpful, supportive and friendly communities in gaming, these days I regrettably can't say the same — though I find myself pondering whether or not it's because at the time I wrote that review, I'd only been playing endgame content for a short period.

Let me talk a bit about the incident that drove me over the edge today, then I'll talk a bit in more general terms about what I feel has gone wrong.

A short while back — like, earlier this week — FFXIV introduced a new type of content called Deep Dungeon. This was a completely new way to play the game, and involved descending into a 50-floor dungeon with up to three companions and clearing it out, one randomly generated floor at a time. The rewards on offer include tokens called "potsherds", which can be exchanged for various valuable items, and if you fully upgrade the weapon and armour you use in the Deep Dungeon — these are separate from those which you use in the main game — you get a high-level weapon for a level 60 character that is not quite the very best in the game, but certainly very respectable and suitable for all levels of content.

Upgrading the weapon and armour requires that you find silver treasure chests in the Deep Dungeon. Opening one of these will do one of three things: upgrade your weapon, upgrade your armour or explode, dealing damage to you and anyone unfortunate enough to be standing nearby. The deeper you go into the dungeon, the more likely it seems you are to come across trapped chests, and your weapon's upgrade level is also capped by your character's level within the deep dungeon — also measured independently of progress in the main game. To put it another way: your weapon and armour can go up to level +30, and in order to upgrade them to this level your character must reach level 60 in the Deep Dungeon, though thankfully levelling up is considerably quicker than in the main game.

After completing all 50 floors once, it's likely that your weapon and armour will be around the +10 to +15 mark, depending on how lucky you've been. This means you then have to challenge the dungeon again from floor 1 but with your upgraded gear, hoping you'll get luckier on the deeper floors this time. As incentive to run it again, however, every 10 floors gives you a generous shot of gil as well as Allagan Tomestones of Poetics, Esoterics and Lore, all of which are used to purchase the best level 50 or 60 gear available, so it's not as if running the upper floors again is a useless waste of time. Alternatively, if you enter the Deep Dungeon on a class you don't yet have to level 60 in the main game, completing 10 floors awards you with a large chunk of XP for your character's level in the main game, so it's also a good means of levelling alternative classes.

You may have surmised from that description that this structure puts a lot of pressure on Floors 41-50 to get players up to the magical +30/+30 needed to take away a shiny new weapon into the main game. And indeed, this is where the problems arise, with players doing everything from skipping fights with monsters that they don't feel the party "needs" to fight (despite some players not having reached level 60 at this point, and some enemies dropping treasure chests) to outright Vote Abandon-ing the whole dungeon if they don't feel they got "enough" silver chests in the first couple of floors.

I ran into one of these people today: a white mage, which is to say, a healer, and so an important, useful part of any group. Deep Dungeon, unlike everything else in the game, doesn't matchmake you into a party made up of one tank, one healer and two DPS, so it's entirely possible you'll find yourself running in a group with no healer at times, and as such having a healer in your group is something to be celebrated.

Unless it was this guy. Right from the very start of Floor 41, he ran off in completely the opposite direction to the rest of the party, leaving the remaining three of us to fight off monsters and get afflicted with various status effects that could have easily been cleansed if he had been there. But no; he had places to be, apparently, and finding those silver chests was more important than actually helping the other three people in there.

"Will you PLEASE stop running off?" piped up one of my companions halfway through Floor 42, obviously getting as impatient as I was with this git's shenanigans.

"I'm skipping mobs," replied our friend.

I then pointed out that not everyone in our party was level 60 yet — one was 56, one was 58 — and thus it would be in everyone's interest to kill as many monsters as possible, particularly as it's also necessary to kill a certain number to open the exit to the next floor anyway. He then complained about us being "slow" and "inefficient", and took great umbrage at several of us accusing him of "speedrunning".

Speedrunning is a bit of an issue in Final Fantasy XIV as a whole, particularly in dungeons, most of which are tuned more to the "casual" end of the difficulty spectrum, but nonetheless remain a good source of income for those valuable Tomestones. With a well-geared, confident party that knows what it is doing, most dungeons can be cleared in about 10 minutes or so, but this relies on everyone being both well-geared and confident in the speedrunning process, which usually involves the tank pulling as many enemies as possible at the same time, the healer working overtime to keep their HP topped up and the DPS doing area-effect attacks as much as possible.

It's quick, sure. It's also boring, because more often than not fighting like this means that you use maybe two or three of your complete suite of abilities, and fighting the monsters just becomes a case of standing in place hitting the same buttons over and over for ten minutes. Not interesting, and certainly not doing justice to the impressive encounters the Final Fantasy XIV team have created throughout the game. But no, at some point between 2.0 and 3.35, where we are now, someone somewhere decided that the de facto way to run dungeons was as quickly — sorry, "efficiently" — as possible, and woe betide anyone who slows it down for any reason, even if, say, the tank or healer say they don't feel confident or geared enough to do it.

Now, the thing with Deep Dungeon is that speedrunning is largely pointless, because monsters respawn, everyone needs to level up, you need to kill a certain number of monsters to open the exit to the next floor and, as with any good role-playing game, if you split the party you're probably asking for a bad time. With the levels being randomly generated, too, there's no set route through each floor, either, so you can't even work out a route that lets you avoid certain encounters as in certain fixed dungeons in the game, so it's really more trouble than it's worth.

That didn't stop this obnoxious White Mage from arguing his case increasingly aggressively though, eventually descending to insults about his perception of the rest of the party's skill levels. Hilariously, he even had a go at me on the grounds that I "wouldn't last five minutes in Expert Roulette" (the current two highest difficulty level 60 dungeons, neither of which are very tough) — I chose not to engage with him by explaining that actually, I had been playing the game since its open beta and as such knew it pretty fucking well by this point. Instead, I just voted to dismiss him from the party; my companions silently agreed, and thankfully he was booted shortly afterwards, to be replaced by a much friendlier person who unfortunately wasn't a healer.

This White Mage's attitude is representative of a considerable proportion of Final Fantasy XIV's player base as it stands today: the game, for these people, is about the relentless pursuit of "efficiency" so that they can acquire all the best gear, get all the achievements — achieve whatever they want to achieve, in other words — as quickly as possible then, in all likelihood, go on the official forums and Reddit to complain that three months is too long between content patches and that there's "nothing to do", despite smaller patches with additional features (such as Deep Dungeon, which was a significant addition) being added on a monthly basis.

I also saw this among a number of active Final Fantasy XIV players I used to follow on Twitter. There was a marked shift in their attitude over time; one person in particular that I started following as a result of attending an in-game "funeral" for a player who had sadly passed away in real life began as a very pleasant person to talk about the game with. But gradually over time he started caring more and more about parser figures — a parser being an external program you can run to see how much damage per second (DPS) everyone in the party is doing, a common means of harassing other players for "not pulling their weight" and technically against the game's Terms of Service, though I don't know of anyone who has been punished for it. He'd complain about parties he'd come across in Duty Finder; he'd post images of the parser figures; he'd shame people for not playing "well enough" or being "lazy". That relentless pursuit of "efficiency"; your DPS must be this high to ride.

I just can't stand it any more. It's ruined the game for me. Dungeons that I used to love running, like A Realm Reborn's final storyline dungeons Castrum Meridianum and The Praetorium, lose all their drama by people skipping all cutscenes — and yelling at people who don't — and speedrunning their way through as quickly as possible, even if someone in the group hasn't seen this part of the story before. (Not coincidentally, those two dungeons were also the last to have lengthy cutscenes in the middle of the dungeon run.) If I decide I want a leisurely run through a dungeon rather than a stressful but boring speedrun, I get yelled at. If someone in the party makes a mistake and there's a single death, everyone gets yelled at. And apparently not going fast enough in Deep Dungeon is now a cardinal sin, too.

Fuck all that. Fuck everyone who has ruined one of my favourite games of the last few years. And fuck this shitty behaviour being considered "normal" in all games, not just Final Fantasy XIV — indeed, I'm under no illusions, and am well aware that this sort of thing is a problem in all MMOs.

I just thought Final Fantasy XIV's community was better than that. It certainly was once — at least, I think it was. But no longer. The buildup of this crappy behaviour and how not-fun this makes the game for me has led me to both cancel my subscription and uninstall the game completely for the first time ever since open beta. And I doubt I'm the only one who feels this way.

The post 2378: People Ruin Everything: FFXIV Edition appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Just in time to cover it extensively this month over on MoeGamer, I'm finally up to date on the Ys series, as I finished Memories of Celceta tonight.

I'm glad I finally took the time to play through it all, as it really is a remarkable series that has evolved considerably since its humble beginnings. I'll save the history lesson for MoeGamer, though, and talk a bit about Memories of Celceta specifically.

Memories of Celceta builds on what Ys Seven started, and does it very well. While Ys Seven felt a little bit clunky at times — at least partly due to the fact that it was running on the crusty old PSP hardware — Celceta feels much more fluid and refined. It's not perfect — the poor old Vita struggles to keep the framerate up when there's lots happening on screen, but it never really becomes a problem. No, I'm talking more about the gameplay; combat is fluid and satisfying, and the skills each character has all feel a lot more distinct than the rather feeble ones you had for the majority of Seven. Different characters have clear purposes, both in and out of combat, and each one is enjoyable to fight as.

The thing I liked the most about it, I think, was the emphasis on exploration. The central concept of the game is that protagonist Adol is exploring the uncharted forest of Celceta, a job well suited to an adventurer such as he. Indeed, your progress in the game roughly corresponds to your progress uncovering the surprisingly sprawling map, and by the end of the game you'll be at, or at least close to, 100% of the forest being mapped out.

And it's an interesting forest, too, with plenty of distinct areas rather than remaining uniformly green and leafy throughout. There are plains-like clearings, towering mountains, crystalline lakes and damp, soggy marshland. Later in the game there's the Ashen Forest, which is a beautiful, almost otherworldly area bathed in a curious sparkling, purple mist.

I found myself missing the "jump" button from Oath in Felghana and its ilk less in Celceta than I did in Ys Seven. This is because the maps were overall better designed and more interesting to explore. Ys Seven's dungeons in particular weren't bad as such, but it's clear that technological limitations, at times, held Falcom's designers back a bit from making some really interesting levels.

I particularly liked the various "artifacts" you acquire throughout Celceta, many of which provide you with new traversal abilities in true Metroidvania tradition. The Hydra Scales, for example, allow you to swim underwater and reach otherwise inaccessible chests and areas, while the Gale Boots allow you to run incredibly fast, even straight up certain walls. The controls for some of these non-standard means of traversal are occasionally a bit wobbly — steering the Gale Boots is near-impossible, so you better line up before you unleash them, for example, and combat underwater is a terrible experience proving that Falcom, unfortunately, didn't learn anything from Ys Origin's excellent underwater section — but they never get in the way of gameplay, because they're usually required only to bypass a particular obstacle, at which point you can just get back to doing what Adol does best — hacking and slashing through hordes of enemies.

I won't spoil anything, but the finale was fantastic, too. The Ys games have all had excellent finales so far, and Celceta certainly didn't disappoint with a particularly strong final confrontation and the unusual move of having a few things extra to do after the "final" boss. It was dramatic, exciting — and, perhaps most importantly, extremely relevant to the overall Ys lore, which, again, is something that Falcom excels at. By now, the lore of the world of Ys is extremely well-realised, with each new game bringing us new information about a region or country; effectively, we learn about these lands alongside Adol as he continues his quest to see every part of the world "without shortcuts".

I'm a total convert to Ys, then, and you better believe I'll be all over Ys VIII when it inevitably comes West. In the meantime, have a rest, Adol Christin, you've definitely earned it.

The post 2361: Up to Date on Ys appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

(yes, I found a way to put a beard on my model in ComiPo! Woo!)

I've been playing a bit of The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt lately. I've been meaning to give it a go for ages, but it's never quite dropped in price enough for me to want to jump on board; thankfully, the combination of the Steam Summer Sale and Andie generously buying me a copy as an anniversary present means that I can now explore this game to my heart's content.

Playing Witcher 3 alongside Ys: Memories of Celceta is an interesting experience, because it's a study in contrasts between Western and Eastern game design philosophy. Both of them have a surprising number of elements in common: they're both action RPGs, they both involve exploring a large overworld, fighting monsters and completing quests, they both feature a muscle-bound man with white hair tied back in a ponytail (though he's not the protagonist in Celceta, instead acting as a Dogi-substitute and cipher for the ever-mute Adol) and they're both very good. But they're both very different.

Celceta is fast-paced and action-packed. Its combat is very arcadey, with lots of flashy special effects, overblown sound effects, rockin' music and celebratory messages flashing up on the screen as you do things like use the right attack type to take advantage of enemy weaknesses. In contrast, Witcher 3 feels almost sedate in its pacing, even in combat, which, thanks to its excellent animations and fluid movement, has an almost dance-like feeling about it as opposed to the frenetic leaping around of Celceta.

The upshot of this is that Witcher 3 is a surprisingly relaxing game to play. This might sound strange, given that the setting for the Witcher series is one of the darkest, bleakest takes on Western fantasy out there, but I've absolutely found it to be the case. While in Celceta you can't relax for a moment when you're out in the overworld because everything is trying to kill you, in Witcher 3 there's plenty of opportunity to explore, wander off the path into the bushes and just start walking in a direction to see what's there. Worthwhile things are marked on the map so you're not wandering completely aimlessly — unless you want to — but for the most part the game's rather sedate pacing has the pleasant feeling of a walk in the countryside or the woods rather than constantly fighting for your life, even though the countrysides and woods of Witcher 3's world are far more dangerous than what your average rambler might have to contend with.

Both games have their place, then, and I'm enjoying them both a great deal. I feel like on the whole, I tend to enjoy the more frenetic, chaotic, joyful pace and tone of the Japanese approach to RPGs more — they cheer me up with their sheer energy — but there's most definitely something very appealing and oddly relaxing about the more sedate pacing and carefully crafted periods of solitude in games like The Witcher 3.

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I beat Ys Seven tonight. That leaves just one more Ys game to play through before I've beaten every one of the currently available games in the series, making me eminently ready for Ys VIII, whenever that makes its way West, because it almost certainly (hopefully) will.

Ys Seven is an interesting change after the three games built on the Ys VI engine — Ys VI, Oath in Felghana and Ys Origin. I kind of miss some of the defining aspects of those three games — most notably the platforming elements, which are completely absent from Seven — but Seven very much does its own thing and takes ownership of it, creating an experience that is satisfying in its own right, even if it's a slightly jarring change of pace initially.

The first thing to note about Ys Seven is that it's at least twice the length of previous Ys games. This still puts it at well under the average length of a typical JRPG these days — it took me 24 hours to beat on Normal — but makes it feel significantly longer than the previous titles. This isn't a bad thing, though; along with the greater length comes greater scope: Ys Seven's narrative feels more ambitious and, for want of a better word, epic than its predecessors; while past Ys games felt very much like you were taking care of business in a small, localised area, Ys Seven does a good job of making you feel like the fate of a whole country is at stake. There's a sprawling overworld to explore, and several villages, each with their own unique aesthetic.

This rather more sprawling scale comes at a slight cost: while past Ys games' small geographical area meant that pretty much every character in the game had a name and a story to tell, Ys Seven's NPCs, for the most part, feel quite a bit more generic. This is partly due to the fact that none of them have names, instead being called things like "Obliging Maid" and suchlike — with the curious exception of questgivers, who all have very Western names like "Kevin Lassiter" — but I suppose it does help keep the focus on the main cast, which, in keeping with the rest of the experience, is significantly bigger than previous Ys games.

Even your party is bigger. Adol is no longer alone, bringing up to two companions in tow this time, and there's a reason for this: enemies now have various resistances, meaning you need a balanced party that can cover all types of damage, otherwise you simply won't be able to kill some enemies. For most of the game, there's little reason to switch out from the default party of Adol, longtime companion (but first time playable) Dogi and whoever fills the third slot at that point in the party, but upon reaching the final boss the reason for the total squad size being seven members becomes clear. Be sure to keep everyone's equipment up to date — thankfully, inactive characters gain experience at the same rate as the front line, so there's no need to go out of your way to grind too much.

One aspect of the game that feels very different comes when you're fighting a boss. Whereas in past Ys games boss fights were almost puzzles and dexterity challenges, where you'd have to dodge incoming attacks and take advantage of openings, Ys Seven's bosses are often damage sponges that, at least on Normal difficulty, feel like they can be beaten more through brute force than anything. On the harder difficulty levels I can see them being stiffer challenges, because you're more limited in the healing items you can carry, but certainly on Normal, I could get through most bosses without too much difficulty by just making sure I had enough potions on hand. It wasn't until the final boss, which has significantly more complex mechanics than any of the other fights in the game, that I found myself having to be a bit more careful with what I was doing.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing; Ys Seven's boss fights are enjoyably hard work and feel like you're struggling against a powerful opponent. Like a lot of other things in the game, though, coming straight off Oath in Felghana, Origin and Ark of Napishtim, it's a bit of an adjustment for sure.

Above all, though, Ys Seven keeps the heart of Ys firmly intact. It's wonderfully sincere about everything, but isn't afraid to show a sense of humour now and again. That said, it's overall considerably darker than any of the previous installments, particularly around the middle of the story, giving it a distinctive feel. It's not overly grimdark or anything — it's still a bright, colourful, earnest quest featuring a silent protagonist who quite literally lives for adventure — but it was a little surprising to see things like a shirtless Adol getting tortured in a jail cell after a particularly dramatic revelation partway through.

I enjoyed it a lot, in other words. Now I just have Memories of Celceta to go and I'm up to date. And then I will have to physically restrain myself from going back to the beginning and doing a Nightmare run, I feel…

The post 2348: I Beat Ys Seven appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I finished Ys: The Oath in Felghana tonight, after a bit less swearing at the initially unassailable-seeming final boss than I anticipated.

That was an absolutely brilliant game. Well-paced, enjoyable to play, challenging but never insurmountable and certainly didn't outstay its welcome; my game clock read just over 12 hours at the end, although GOG Galaxy claims I actually played it for 24 hours, which can probably be accounted for with a number of boss fights that took a significant number of attempts to clear.

Make no mistake, Oath was a difficult game, but it never felt overly punishing. Indeed, any time that I found myself staring at a Game Over screen, I always knew that it was my fault. Specifically, it was usually the result of overconfidence: charging headlong into a group of powerful enemies, hoping to obliterate them all quickly and gain a ton of XP, but instead getting torn to shreds. Or, in the case of boss fights, it was a matter of learning the attack patterns and then being able to execute suitable countermeasures.

The boss fights were a particular highlight, because they featured an absolute ton of variety and mechanics to pay attention to. The first couple of bosses were very much about dodging and timing, while others were about inventive use of your skills to avoid damage. What I particularly liked were the several encounters that initially seemed absolutely impossible to complete, but which after a bit of practice and careful observation proved to be somewhat less of a problem than I initially believed they would be.

Oath is old-school in its sensibilities in that failure is part of the experience. When you first encounter a boss, you pretty much need to fail in order to understand what it's doing and how it affects you. I've said this before, but in many ways it reminds me of fighting fast-paced versions of Final Fantasy XIV bosses: all mechanics can be countered and dealt with in some way, whether that's through dodging, skill use or various ways of protecting yourself. There are always clear visual and auditory cues as to what's about to happen, allowing you to prepare yourself appropriately, and in situations where you're expected to perform more complex actions such as switching between skills in the heat of battle, the encounters are designed in such a way that you always have time to perform the actions you need to rather than suffering under a relentless assault. Indeed, it's certainly possible to defeat the final boss without taking any damage because there's an Achievement for doing so, and I imagine most of the others can also be handled in such a manner.

I also enjoyed the plot a great deal. While I missed the presence of Feena and Reah from Ys I, II and Origin, the new characters were well-defined and interesting. The villains in particular had some interesting plot arcs, and the game threw up several unexpected curveballs towards its conclusion.

Character highlights for me included series recurring character Dogi, who despite being big enough to crush walls comes across as one of the nicest people in the world, and this game's vaguely implied romantic interest Elena, who was both adorably cute and a genuinely likeable character. I felt a bit bad leaving her behind at the end of the game, but I'm getting the impression protagonist Adol is a bit of a player; I'm anticipating a variety of other cute girls over the course of the games in the series that I'm yet to play.

I've said it before, but I'll say it again; I'm sorry that I haven't checked out this series sooner. I'm having an absolute blast with it, and I'm very much looking forward to the upcoming Ys VIII, which I'll be very surprised if we don't see come West courtesy of Xseed Games in the near future. Given how much I've enjoyed the series so far, I feel fairly confident saying that I'll probably be there day one when it finally comes out.

The post 2339: Adol Wins Again appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I started Ys: The Oath in Felghana today after finishing the main story of Ys Origin. (I do intend to go back and replay Origin on the harder difficulties as well as grind through its extra modes and unlockables, but that will be a gradual process!) So far I've played about two hours or so into the main story, beaten four bosses and yelled more curse words at a game than I can remember doing for a very long time.

Oath in Felghana is hard. Really hard. Like, really really hard. I did not know this going in, so feeling quite confident off the back of clearing Ys Origin (which was challenging, but not mega-hard) I thought I'd start Oath on Hard rather than Normal.

I started to think that I had maybe made the wrong decision when the first boss took me a good ten attempts. When the second one took me probably twenty or thirty tries — including having to stop after a few attempts because I was getting pretty wound up by the whole thing — I seriously considered restarting on Normal or Easy, but my pride prevented me from doing so.

Then I beat that boss, and I remembered what I had discovered during my first runthrough of Ys Origin. Ys games, so far as I can tell, are not games intended to be breezed through without any resistance whatsoever. They're short, yes, but whenever their diminutive length is quoted, it isn't taking into account all the times you'll have to retry the difficult bits. Because you'll have to retry the difficult bits a lot. In other words, Ys Origin and Oath in Felghana may well be "10 hours long", but that figure assumes that you'll beat all the bosses first time and won't make any stupid mistakes while exploring lava-covered ruins. And I can assure you that you won't beat all the bosses first time, and you most certainly will make stupid mistakes while exploring lava-covered ruins.

This difficulty makes it all the more satisfying, though. There's a feeling of genuine "release" when you finally overcome a difficult challenge, and much like Ys Origin, I've found that while the bosses in particular are difficult, you'll almost certainly find yourself getting a little bit further each and every time you try, rather than stagnating with absolutely no idea whatsoever what to do. Oath, like Origin, is so well designed that it manages to "train" you how to beat its bosses without giving you any explicit instructions. The animation and sound cues, the attack patterns, the overall "rhythm" of the encounters — all of them are carefully tuned to make each encounter surprisingly intuitive, and while many of them aren't especially complicated in terms of mechanics, you'll need to practice in order to perform what the game is asking of you flawlessly. And you will need to be as close to flawless as possible, because Oath in particular is very unforgiving.

It's funny. The Souls series kicking my ass and forcing me to learn encounters is one of the things that ended up putting me off it, but I'm really enjoying it in the Ys series. This leads me to believe that it's perhaps not this actual style of game that puts me off, but the aesthetic; Ys is colourful, cheerful and energetic, while Souls is dark, dreary and depressing. While there's a time and place for dark, dreary and depressing, I tend to prefer that sort of thing in my survival horrors and adventure games; when I'm RPGing, I want to be heroic in a colourful fantasy land filled with pretty girls. And Oath in Felghana is certainly delivering on all fronts so far.

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I finished my first playthrough of Ys Origin earlier. I chose to play through for the first time with Yunica Tovah, who apparently handles most like Adol in the subsequent 3D Ys games, but now I'm going through it again with Hugo Fact, who plays impressively differently.

One thing that struck me with Ys II in particular, and it appears to be a pattern that continues with Origin and its ilk, is how much shoot 'em up DNA is in this series. Numerous bosses have distinctly "bullet hell"-style attacks requiring intricate dodging and pattern recognition, for example, but this connection is most obvious when playing Origin as Hugo, since even his basic attack involves firing bullets. Hell, he even has two "options" (sorry, "The Eyes of Fact") floating either side of him to fire additional bullets, which double in number when he uses Boost mode.

It's interesting quite how different a feel this contrasting playstyle provides, since you're otherwise going through pretty much the same levels and boss fights as in Yunica's story, albeit with different cutscenes and a few minor changes here and there. Boss fights in particular are a very different affair when playing as Hugo, since rather than it being necessary to get in melee range as with Yunica, as Hugo you have to play a lot more defensively, attacking from range in suitable openings and taking great care to avoid attacks, since Hugo is considerably squishier than Yunica is. Not only that, but Hugo's individual attacks do quite a bit less damage than Yunica's axe and sword swings, though he makes up for this by being able to attack 1) from a distance and 2) much more rapidly than Yunica.

I'm also playing this second runthrough on Hard difficulty; I'm not quite brave enough for the series' signature Nightmare difficulty yet, but I thought I'd step things up for Hugo, since I felt pretty confident with Yunica by the end of my first playthrough. It's noticeably harder, particularly when it comes to boss fights. I'm not entirely sure if this is down to enemies' boosted stats or simply the different way Hugo plays that I haven't quite gotten used to yet, but I'm finding myself having to retry boss fights more times than I did on Normal with Yunica.

One of the things I like about Ys Origin so far is that although the boss fights are very difficult, I don't think there's been a single encounter in the game where I felt like I was beating my head against a wall. In other words, although I might fail a boss fight several times in succession, I'd make noticeable progress each time, chipping away a little further at the enemy life bar each time until I was eventually successful. It's a matter of practice and skill rather than luck; in some ways, it reminds me quite a bit of Final Fantasy XIV raid bosses, where you need to know what's going to happen in the fight before you can even think about being successful; flailing wildly isn't going to work, at all.

Anyway. I'm keen to get through Ys Origin for a second time with Hugo, and then polish it off a third time with the "secret" third character, whose story is quite a bit different from Yunica and Hugo's, from what I understand. By playing all three stories, you get the full narrative; this is an approach that some people find tiresome — particularly if they have to play through the same levels again with a different character, as you do here — but it's something I always enjoy. I really enjoy seeing stories from multiple perspectives, and while Ys is fairly conventional fantasy in many ways, it's well-written, well-localised and features some entertaining, endearing characters, so I'm more than happy to plough through it to see everything it has to offer.

Then after that, there's Time Attack, Boss Rush and Arena Mode, of course, which I'm curious to at least try… so much for being a short game!

The post 2329: Another Trip Up Darm Tower appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I'm on the 25th floor of the Tower of Bogomil, Dungeon Travelers 2's very definitely, totally, positively final dungeon, honest. There are just five floors to go until I reach the top and the final final boss, though I suspect I will probably have to go and fight at least one of the "Gods" that lurk at the bottom of the other postgame dungeons before it will let me in to get my teeth kicked in by the boss. Oh, there's also a five-floor annex to the tower, because of course there is. Each floor of this is pretty small, from what I understand, though; they're mostly about additional boss fights.

I checked the clock when I made my last save tonight: 208 hours. This is officially the longest I've ever spent on a completely single-player game. Final Fantasy XIV has it beat in terms of total playtime, of course, but being an evolving MMO, that's a somewhat different situation. Previous holders of the personal playtime records for me included Persona 3 (somewhere around 90 hours), Persona 4 (likewise), several of the Hyperdimension Neptunia games (100+ hours each, albeit split across several playthroughs) and Xenoblade Chronicles X (well over 100 hours and I hadn't even finished half of it — must go back sometime).

What's kind of impressive about that playtime for Dungeon Travelers 2 is that it's a single playthrough. I haven't started again, I haven't done a New Game Plus — this is the same save file I started months ago. And only now, after 208 hours, am I even vaguely near finished.

What's also impressive about the playtime for Dungeon Travelers 2 is that the vast majority of it occurred after the main ending to the story. The "Otherworld Chapter", as the postgame is called, unfolds largely without an ongoing narrative — it simply unlocks a series of challenging dungeons in sequence and tasks you with navigating your way through some increasingly perilous and head-scratchingly confusing locales with a mind to eventually opening up the aforementioned Tower of Bogomil and making your way to the top. Why? Just because. (Well, technically you think the final boss of the story, who managed to escape after you defeated her, might be lurking up there.)

This motivation for dungeon-crawling is one of the purest there is: the simple joy of exploration and discovery. And this is one thing that Dungeon Travelers 2 is absolutely exceptional at that. It may obviously be working within some tight budget constraints — there are a lot of palette-swapped enemies throughout the game, and each dungeon is based on a single tileset, which in the case of the Tower of Bogomil you see a whole lot — but the absolutely exemplary level design makes up for these limitations and then some.

What I found interesting is that Dungeon Travelers 2 keeps a lot of its tricks up its sleeve until the postgame. One of the latter story dungeons features some switch puzzles that involve opening either red or blue gates at once, never both, but the postgame also adds floors with conveyor belts, floors that are interconnected by ladders and pitfalls, floors that are full of teleporters on every step, one-way walls, secret passages and doors that demand you have a specific party makeup or class present in order to proceed.

Essentially, the main story of the game is getting you prepared for this pure exploration, combat and character-building experience in the postgame. You get a taste of what to expect in the future in the story; you get thrown in at the deep end once you're past the "final" boss. And it's hugely enjoyable, as my playtime will attest.

Five floors to go, then. I'm hoping I get it finished by the beginning of next month, because there's a ton I'd like to write about this game over on MoeGamer, so watch over there for some in-depth thoughts.

The post 2317: 25 Floors Up appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

In case you hadn't noticed, my favourite genre of game is the RPG or role-playing game. Which is kind of a weird type of game, when you think about it, particularly from a modern perspective.

Computer RPGs (hereafter "CRPGs") have their roots in tabletop roleplaying systems like Dungeons and Dragons and its ilk — indeed, the Dungeons and Dragons inspiration is very obvious even in Japanese titles like the original Final Fantasy, and we've also had a swathe of outright Dungeons and Dragons titles for various platforms over the years. Where CRPGs and tabletop systems diverge, however, is in their main purpose.

Tabletop role-playing is about different things according to who you speak to, but there are two broad things it allows its participants to engage in: firstly, it allows them to play-act a fantasy of some description, be it ruling the night as a vampire in modern-day New York, exploring the Planes and fighting otherworldly horrors or battling the Empire alongside Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. This is, for many people, the biggest attraction of tabletop role-playing: the chance to be someone else for a little while, and enjoy the experience with other people. Tabletop role-playing rules tend to be deliberately a little fuzzy around the edges, allowing for some bending here and there in the name of making a more entertaining experience for the participants; indeed, some of the most successful, effective systems have some of the most straightforward rules.

When those rules come into play, though, that's the other big strength of tabletop role-playing: they allow for all manner of things to happen. If you really want to boil it down, they're a means of using mathematics to create an abstract depiction of some sort of action, whether it's something that is possible to depict literally (attempting to use diplomacy to prevent a war) or something that is pure fantasy (infusing yourself with the power of the Gods to leap 50 feet into the air and stab a demon in the left nostril with your holy sword). But for most groups, these rules are in service to the main attraction: the roleplaying; the communal storytelling; the shared fantasies.

CRPGs, meanwhile, focus almost exclusively on this latter aspect: the use of mathematics to abstractly represent things happening. It's pretty rare to find a CRPG that affords you complete freedom to do what you want, and where they do exist, these experiences often feel a bit "empty" thanks to the lack of true human interaction — plus perhaps the awareness that the "freedom" you're enjoying is just an illusion: all it really is is the game designer having thought of more things that you might do than some other people would have.

Because truly freeform role-playing doesn't really work when you don't have other humans in the equation, we get a focus on mechanics and rules, with perhaps a story of some description overlaid on the top as justification for the rules and mechanics you're following. But it's still a little strange, as I say — particularly through modern eyes.

Why? Because we're at a stage where we don't need to abstractly represent things as much as we used to. In the early days of video games, the abstract, mathematical mechanics of CRPGs were in part a response to technological limitations: they allowed for the representation of things that it simply wasn't possible to render believably on the screen. Now, though, graphics hardware has come along to such a degree that there's not much we can't depict completely visually, given a talented art and animation team to bring these things to life. Not only that, but with the advent of motion control and virtual reality, we can even put ourselves among these things: these strange and fantastical locales; these weird and wonderful creatures. And we can interact with them physically.

So why, then, do we still have turn-based role-playing games that are deliberately and heavily abstract and unrealistic in their depiction of anything from battle to relationships?

Well, for a number of reasons, the first being that not every development company has infinite resources to be able to produce a game that depicts your every action literally on the screen. But there's also the matter that engaging in abstract mechanics and learning how a game's systems work is part of the fun. You can learn how to take full advantage of a real-time system, sure, but that takes practice and, frankly, not everyone has the physical dexterity to be able to do that. A mathematical-based system like a CRPG, though; that's accessible to pretty much anyone, though of course it does favour those with a bit more of a mind for numbers over those with twitch reflexes.

And then on top of all that, there's the fact that even though it is possible to depict a lot of things visually in games nowadays, there are still certain things that it's hard to represent in anything other than an abstract manner. Take the combat in something like Dungeon Travelers 2, for example: the concept of this game is that you're playing the role of a non-participant in combat, issuing orders for what up to five people should be doing, the results of which then unfold in front of you through a combination of visual effects, numbers popping up and text messages. By keeping to a simple representation of what would be an altogether chaotic affair if depicted literally — five people attacking up to five monsters — Dungeon Travelers 2 and its ilk allow the player to engage in enjoyably tactical, strategic gameplay that would be highly impractical to show in real-time.

The other thing that appeals to me personally about games like this is that they stoke the fires of the imagination. I know that Dungeon Travelers 2 doesn't depict things literally — there's very little animation in the game, even outside of combat — but I also know that it is keeping visual representations to a relative minimum in order to let my mind do the work. It provides just enough — the overall theme of the dungeon I'm exploring; music to support that; the voices and visual appearances of the girls in my party; the appearances and behaviours of the monsters we fight — to get my imagination fired up and fill in the blanks for myself. When Monica fires a Spiral Arrow and hits for 3,000 damage, I don't think "ooh, 3,000 damage!" — I think "Wow, that was an amazing shot." And I like that.

The bigger-name, bigger-budget CRPGs are starting to move more and more away from this sort of abstract depiction of what is happening — look at BioWare's games, for example, or Square Enix's approach to Final Fantasy XV (although in that case, it's a peculiar middle ground between a truly literal depiction and abstracted mechanics) — but I'm pretty sure there will always be a place for imagination-stoking, presentation-minimal CRPGs for people like me. At least I hope so!

The post 2315: RPGs are Weird appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

A controversial statement, perhaps — and I make no apologies for a third post about Ys in a row — but one that I feel confident in making, even having only finished the first game and made it about halfway (I estimate?) through the second. (Aside: given how much I've enjoyed the first two games so far, you can count on a month of Ys over on MoeGamer at some point in the near future.)

Ys speaks to me in a way that Zelda never has. This isn't to say that I don't like Zelda, mind you — I count A Link to the Past, Link's Awakening and Majora's Mask among some of my favourite games of all time — but there's something just… kind of magical about Ys that I've been delighted to discover over the past few days, and a little disappointed in myself that I never took the plunge and explored this series earlier.

Let me try to explain what I mean.

I think the thing that sticks out to me most of all is how Ys provides a much more coherent and continuous feeling in its narrative than Zelda does. The fact that Zelda games up until Link's Awakening still referred to the various dungeons as "levels" made it pretty clear that despite the sprawling overworld in each instance, these were basically games designed on the same linear principles as more traditional action/arcade adventures. This very much gives Zelda games a feeling that persists today: a sharp demarcation between the overworld and the dungeons. This is not necessarily a bad thing, nor is it particularly unusual; many RPGs make this distinction, and massively multiplayer games in particular have an even more stark divide between the two types of content, with dungeons tending to be cooperative multiplayer affairs, while overworld action tends to be (for the most part) solo or social in nature.

But with Ys, there's no such demarcation. The world is continuous and coherent, and consequently far more believable. You're not pausing your exploration to get through the mysteriously puzzle-filled castle that happens to stand between you and your objective; you're continuing your journey, exploring the world, fulfilling the promises you made to the people who believe in you. It's a continuous, flowing process and narrative, rather than one that is heavily punctuated. Exploration flows into conversation flows into combat flows into more exploration; the only real punctuation comes in the form of the boss fights, which don't necessarily come at as predictable points as in Zelda games.

This coherent feeling is particularly apparent in Ys II, which expands on the excellent worldbuilding of its predecessor. Characters move around as the story progresses, and they make reference to the places you find yourself travelling to. Sometimes you run across them on your travels as they get up to things independently of you; sometimes you'll return from an adventure to find them acknowledging your deeds when you speak to them. Contrast with Zelda's worlds, which tend to be rather static in nature; populated with weird and quirky characters in many cases, sure, but there's not a lot of feeling of things going on while you're not there, with the exception of Majora's Mask, of course, where this sort of thing was the whole game's central design tenet.

My friend Chris also points out that Ys makes him feel powerful, and he's absolutely right. This is a big contrast between Ys and Zelda, and it's partly due to the nature of the protagonist character. While both games sport a visually distinctive but mute self-insert character for the player to inhabit and play as they see fit, Zelda's hero is a child, while Ys' hero is a young adult. There's always been an element of childish clumsiness to Zelda's combat; even once the series moved into 3D with Ocarina of Time and started having more complex combat mechanics than a single attack button that always did the same thing, Link always felt… not incapable or incompetent as such, but like he perhaps wasn't quite as comfortable holding a sword and shield as he perhaps should be. Which is understandable in several of the games, where he has the whole "Hero" thing kind of thrust upon him suddenly.

In the case of Ys, meanwhile, there's a strong feeling that, when played well, you are overwhelming your enemy with superior skill and power. This is depicted differently in both Ys I and Ys II, despite both being based on the same fundamental "bump" system, which allows for button-free attacking and a style of gameplay where you never really have to stop moving.

In Ys I, the feeling of overwhelming power is brought about by the rather brief levelling curve: with a level cap of just 10, each one of those 10 levels is a significant jump in power for protagonist Adol. If you keep pace with where you're "supposed" to be as you proceed through the story, you'll take down most enemies in a single hit. It's not until the very latter stages of the game, when you've been level 10 for a while, that you'll come across enemies that need multiple hits to fell, and even then, no more than one or two extra hits.

In Ys II, meanwhile, the combat is rejigged so that individual hits do less damage, but you can inflict them incredibly quickly, particularly while attacking diagonally. You also push enemies backwards while attacking them, giving the combat a feel somewhat akin to the sport of fencing, where dominating your opponent and forcing them to move how you want them to move is key. In Ys II, careful, tactical movement of enemies — not shoving them into a large group of their friends, for example, nor pushing them into a corner behind a rock that makes it difficult for you to keep up the assault — is absolutely key, and getting it right is an immensely satisfying feeling completely unlike any other action RPG I've played.

Then you have things like the items. In Zelda, the items you unlock as you proceed through the game are predictable and are used based on clear, recognisable visual cues that stay the same throughout the game. In Ys, meanwhile, you might use each item only once or twice throughout the game in circumstances where it makes narrative sense to do so, not because it would make a good puzzle or dexterity challenge. This gives the game much more of a traditional "adventure game" feel to it, and I like that very much about it. In Ys II, there are also a number of items you can use in unconventional ways, too, and the game rewards experimentation with, for example, giving healing items as gifts to NPCs, or using the "Alter" magic to turn yourself into a Roo and talk to monsters. While very few of these things are necessary to complete the game, they, like so much else in these games, provide a lovely sense of a world that has been well thought out and beautifully crafted, particularly in these revamped Chronicles+ versions that I'm playing on PC.

This is all my opinion, of course, and doubtless there are some die-hard Zelda fans out there who would feel the complete opposite to me — and doubtless some other people out there who would gleefully point out that Ys and Zelda aren't really directly comparable at all — but so far, I don't feel it's premature to say that I'm already in love with this series, and intend to devour as much of it as I can in short order. Count on further enthusing as and when that happens.

The post 2312: After 1.5 Games, I Already Like Ys More Than Any Zelda I've Played appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I've been meaning to check out the Ys series for quite some time — my Steam library informs me that I have owned a number of the PC versions for several years, and I also have a number of the PSP versions loaded on my Vita, too. For some reason, though, I've never got around to it.

I decided that it was time to change all that, so I booted up Ys I to start at the beginning. And, well, I kind of wish I'd done this sooner.

Ys is a series I've been dimly aware of for many years. I remember some seriously random things from my childhood, and one of the things that is still stored in my memory for some inexplicable reason was seeing a review of Ys III: Wanderers from Ys in the SNES magazine my brother's girlfriend at the time was working on, Control. Something struck me as very interesting about this side-scrolling hack and slash adventure, and I often found myself wondering what it would be like to play. For one reason or another, though, I never did check it out, but the Ys series had always been at the back of my mind ever since.

Ys I is a rather different affair from Ys III, which took a distinctly Zelda II-esque approach of attempting to reinvent the series as a side-scrolling platform action RPG rather than the more traditional top-down perspective of other installments. But Ys I isn't like any other RPG I've played, either. It's not like Zelda because of its use of the rather peculiar (but fun and satisfying) "bump" combat, wherein you attack enemies just by walking into them, and whether or not they do damage to you depends on the angle you hit them at. It's not like Final Fantasy or Dragon Quest because it's not a turn-based RPG, nor is it a globetrotting adventure. Instead, it's something that very much has its own identity.

Ys I — and, indeed, most of the subsequent Ys games — casts you in the role of one Adol Christin, a redheaded adventurer lad who washes up on the shores of the land of Esteria against all odds after surviving a strange phenomenon surrounding the island called the Stormwall. After a brief convalescence — and specifically against the recommendations of his doctor and nurse — he heads out into the world to explore and figure out what is going on, and before long, oh, wouldn't you know it, he's some sort of Chosen One at the centre of all sorts of mystical happenings that appear to converge on Darm Tower, a hulking, sinister structure on Esteria that seems to be the source of everyone's troubles and woes.

Where Ys shines is in its small scale. In this sense, it's rather similar to the only other Falcom game I've played to date, The Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky. Trails in the Sky featured a fairly hefty journey for its main cast, but its real appeal was in how much character and personality it gave each and every party member, shopkeeper, NPC on the streets and distinct region of the world. Ys I is the same, only in more concentrated form; the island is a very small place that you quickly learn to find your way around, even with the game's total lack of any sort of map function, and it's not long before you feel like you've got to know pretty much all of the 88 characters who are scattered around the game world, some of whom have something interesting to say, others of whom are simply background colour.

What's fascinating about Ys is that even the incidental, "useless" NPCs are full of personality and have clearly been written with a greater context in mind. They each have their own little stories to tell, and over the course of Adol's adventure, the things they say change subtly, giving you a good feeling of the sort of person they are and what they think about everything that's been going on. And the game sometimes surprises you by making what appeared to be an incidental character rather more important than they first appeared.

Couple all this with some really lovely pixel art in the field, some gorgeous visual novel-style illustrations when speaking with the more important characters, and an absolutely rockin' soundtrack, and, well, you have a game that is really rather good: unconventional, memorable, interesting and, most of all, fun.

If Ys I, the oldest and most primitive title in the series, is this appealing to me, I can only imagine how enjoyable the most well-regarded entries like Oath in Felghana and its ilk are. I'm looking forward to investigating the rest of the series in detail, and anticipate that I may well become a bit of a Falcom fanboy by the time I'm done with them.

The post 2310: My First Ys appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I must admit, when I first started playing Dungeon Travelers 2 I was concerned that its dungeons were a bit on the small side compared to the dungeon crawler I had previously played, Demon Gaze. As the game progressed, however, it became apparent that I didn't have anything to worry about.

And then I heard about the post-game content. And then I got into the post-game content.

Demon Gaze had a certain amount of post-game content — most notably a fairly straightforward dungeon where you re-fought all the bosses from earlier in the game, then a horrendously difficult true final boss right at the end. It took me quite a while to plough through it, mind you, though this was partly due to the fact I was also chasing the Platinum trophy, which necessitated a certain amount of grinding on the random number generator in the hope of getting some of the best item drops in the game.

Dungeon Travelers 2's postgame is on a whole other level, though. It's practically a whole other game's worth of content; you finish the main story of the game around about the level 50 mark or so, and the postgame will take you to 99 (and beyond, if you level reset in the hope of "crowning" your characters through permanent stat bonuses) across a number of different dungeons.

What I find most fascinating about Dungeon Travelers 2's postgame is how much effort has been put into it. I find myself wondering how many people will beat the final boss of the main story, watch the credits roll and then put the game down. It would be perfectly valid to do so, after all, since the game is technically "complete" then, even if you haven't even seen half of what it has to offer. There aren't even any specific trophies for the postgame — the only trophies you're likely to see pop in the postgame is the enormous grind that is "kill 20,000 enemies" (you won't even have killed 10,000 by the end of the main story, but you most certainly will have at least 20,000 under your belt by the end of the postgame) and the Platinum. In other words, the only reward you're going to get from seeing the game through to its true end is the satisfaction of having beaten it.

But boy, is that going to feel good when it happens. The postgame dungeons are significantly more challenging than their main story counterparts, and in some cases make use of mechanics that haven't been seen anywhere else in the game. There are dungeons where you have to contend with the relationship between several different floors, dungeons where you have to flip switches to open coloured doors in the right order, dungeons where you have to bring certain classes in order to pass through certain doors (bet you wish you'd leveled Tsurara now, huh) and dungeons that are just a single floor, but absolutely enormous.

Each of the dungeons has two or three bosses to fight as you progress through them, and a level 99 God boss at the very end who will most likely destroy you if you charge in there when you first reach them. Instead, what you're supposed to do is explore each dungeon until you reach a trigger point (normally just before the door to the God battle) which opens up the next one. In a couple of cases, you have to increase your Quest Rank to a certain level before the next dungeon will open up, too, so hopefully you've been paying attention to the Quests as you go through the game!

I'm currently on the second-to-last dungeon, Gear Castle. This is a five-floor futuristic tower with a lot of puzzles. The first floor featured switches that opened blue or red doors (and closed the others), while the second was largely based around conveyor belts that you could switch the direction of with levers around the level. The third, which I'm currently on, features a mix of these two aspects, and I'm yet to see what the fourth and fifth floors offer.

Once I'm through Gear Castle I'm on the home straight: all that stands between me and final victory — aside from that 20,000 kills trophy, which I have no idea how close I am to — is the 30-floor Tower of Bogomil and whatever lies at the very top. I understand that reaching the 26th floor of Bogomil is a significant moment, as it's at this stage your party should be levelled enough to take on the Gods, so I'm looking forward to that with a certain amount of trepidation.

All in all, the clock is going to be well over 200 hours by the time I'm finished with this beast, and I have absolutely loved it throughout. It's seriously one of the best dungeon crawlers — if not RPGs, generally — that I've ever played, and more people need to play and love it.

Assuming I make it to the end by then, I'm planning a month of coverage on MoeGamer next month. There's certainly a hell of a lot to write about.

The post 2299: The Sprawling Endgame of Dungeon Travelers 2 appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Playing through Gust's latest game Nights of Azure, I was struck with how… explicit the romantic relationship between the two heroines is. I don't mean sexually explicit; I mean that the fact that the two of them even have a romantic relationship is acknowledged at all.

Yuri (lesbian) themes are frequently a part of Japanese popular media — an interesting fact to toss back at those who are keen to paint the nation as being somewhat less than progressive when it comes to attitudes towards gay people. Indeed, while "real world" Japanese society in general may not appear to look on homosexuality with as tolerant an eye as we like to think we have here in the West, it's clear that there's plenty of the old "public face, private face" going on, since there are a ton of creators who are obviously fascinated with the idea of same-sex relationships — both male-on-male and female-on-female.

The thing that struck me about Nights of Azure's depiction of its central relationship is the fact that, as I noted above, it's pretty up-front about it. This is noteworthy because although yuri themes often make an appearance in Japanese popular media, they're often more implied than explicit, with it often being left up to the audience (and fan artists) to explore these relationships further.

Take something like popular anime Love Live. Even the most casual viewer will notice the blossoming relationship between Maki and Nico by the end of the run, but the show never particularly draws attention to it; it's just sort of there. Likewise, the Senran Kagura series features a number of obviously romantic relationships between many of its all-female cast members, but it's rare for these to be acknowledged or not "laughed off" by the characters — though, interestingly, latest installment Estival Versus did feature a scene where one character specifically called out Asuka and Homura for being so obviously gay for each other, even if they'd never properly admit it. And the Neptunia series is riddled with yuri undertones, ranging from Nepgear and Uni's heartwarming relationship to Noire's obvious but perpetually unspoken interest in Neptune — and, in most recent installment Megadimension Neptunia V-II, K-Sha's obsession with Noire, though this particular instance was an explicit admission of lady-love.

Nights of Azure, though… it's right there from the beginning, and it develops over the course of the game. Several other characters comment on it. And, most tellingly, there are outright romantic scenes between protagonist Arnice and other leading lady Lilysse. The two share moments of intimacy with one another that, on reflection, are actually quite unusual to see so explicitly depicted in games: in one scene, Arnice comforts an upset Lilysse by draping her arms around her neck from behind and holding her close; in another, the two dance together, their devotion to one another immediately apparent from the way they look at each other. And after a particularly heartfelt make-up session after a dispute between the two, we see them waking up in bed together, having obviously slept facing one another holding hands. (There's no yuri sexytime, though; it's not that kind of game.)

As with other Japanese games that feature yuri themes, Nights of Azure treats its central relationship with the appropriate amount of respect: that is to say, it's just there, and no-one thinks it's anything unusual. A couple of male characters are introduced by hitting on Arnice, but once they see she and Lilysse are obviously involved with one another, they back off — not with an "oh, wow, you're gay" sentiment, but with a simple recognition of "oh, well, you're together" that would have been the same if either of the two ladies involved were the opposite gender.

This is the sort of progressiveness and diversity that is a very positive part of the modern games industry — however, sadly, given Nights of Azure's status as a niche title that a significant number of people probably haven't even heard of, it's a game that you likely won't hear many games writers from big sites talking about.

Consider this my small attempt to acknowledge and celebrate the good that this game is doing, then, and rest assured that Nights of Azure is very much worth your time as an action RPG as well as an interactive lesbian experience.

The post 2277: That Girl's in Lesbians with That Other Girl appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

The more I play Nights of Azure, Gust's latest game, the more I like it.

It's a slow burn, though, I must admit; although the setup and premise is intriguing, mechanically it feels a little obtuse to begin with — or perhaps I'm just overthinking it and trying to play it like a conventional grind-heavy RPG, which it emphatically isn't.

There are a whole bunch of unconventional aspects to the game, most notably its progression system. The level cap is just 11, for one thing, and unusually, the protagonist's level progression isn't a case of grinding for experience; rather, you collect "Blood" from fallen enemies, and then make use of this in increasingly large quantities to gain a level. Levelling up increases your base stats, unlocks new skills to purchase using the four different types of skill points, and sometimes gives you access to new weapons or abilities.

However, there's a more noteworthy aspect to levelling up, which is that it gives you access to a story scene between the protagonist Arnice and the "Maiden of Jorth", a mysterious young woman who looks awfully like Arnice's ladyfriend Lilysse and hangs out in a dream world. During these scenes, you generally have the option to either find out a bit more about the background lore of the world or a bit more about the relationship between Arnice and Lilysse.

It's interesting to see level progression and narrative progression intertwined so closely, as this isn't something that happens very often. In fact, outside of level-locked quests in MMOs, the last time I remember it happening in a single-player RPG is The Granstream Saga on PlayStation 1, though this came at it from the other angle in that you levelled up at predefined moments in the story rather than levelling up triggering story scenes.

There's a more conventional levelling system in there too in the form of the "Servans" system that forms the main basis for the battle mechanics. During the game's action sequences, Arnice can take one or more "decks" of Servans with her, and summon them in exchange for her SP. She can have up to four Servans out at once, and each of them have a combination of passive, automatically activated and manually activated "Burst" abilities. They all act independently of Arnice; while you can give them some rudimentary orders such as "Follow me" and "Attack my target", they mostly do their own thing according to their personality — some loyally attack your target without question; others hang back and attack if they feel like it; others still don't like fighting at all and would rather dig up items for you.

There was the potential for the lack of direct control of the Servans to be enormously frustrating, but it seems to work pretty well. Arnice isn't an especially strong combatant by herself, but wading into the melee yourself generally sends a clear message to your Servans as to which enemies you want to focus on. And the more you use them, the more they level up; after an action scene, they gain experience points in a more "normal RPG" style, levelling up and unlocking abilities of their own.

Each of the Servans seems to have a very different use; I have what feels like a good party right now, but I'm sure it won't be ideal for every situation. Of particular note in this system is the fact that each Servan has a coloured affinity, and the combination of affinities in your deck (or, rather, which affinity has a clear majority) determines what weird and wonderful demonic form Arnice can transform into after charging up through battle. These demon forms are enormously powerful in various ways — some hit hard, some are very fast, some can take a beating. They're particularly useful when it comes to the bosses in the game, which are interesting, challenging battles that demand successful juggling of Arnice's attacks, your Servans' attacks, positioning and well-timed transformations.

I don't feel I quite have my head around all the mechanics in Nights of Azure just yet, but I'm enjoying it a lot. The story and characters are compelling, and the game doesn't waste a lot of time with endless dialogue sequences; it's pretty pacy, moving from one episode to the next in short order, and the action sequences are cut into short, 5-15 minute chunks, making it an easy game to dip into.

There's a whole bunch of interesting stuff going on in this game, in other words, and I feel it's probably a strong contender to spend a month on over at MoeGamer in the near future. So I think I'd probably better start taking notes!

The post 2274: Holding Back the Night(s) of Azure appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Two of my favourite games of all time are Cavia's Nier and Ganbarion's Pandora's Tower. They're both gloriously unconventional takes on the role-playing game genre, mechanically and narratively, and they're both extremely rewarding to engage with. They were also both the recipient of mediocre to middling reviews when they were first released, and have since — at least, in Nier's case — broken free of that critical mire and attained cult status.

I've only played a couple of hours of it so far, but Gust's Nights of Azure looks like joining these two overlooked classics in "flawed masterpiece" territory, as it has a lot in common with these two ambitious titles.

Nights of Azure casts you in the role of Arnice, a half-demon woman tasked with slaying Fiends and keeping a young woman called the Saint safe so that she can perform a ritual that will seal away the evil Nightlord and prevent the world from falling into perpetual darkness. There have been numerous Saints throughout the generations, but this time around the young maiden who has been chosen happens to be one Lilysse, a woman with whom it quickly becomes very apparent that Arnice has previously had an extremely close relationship with. Like, lovers close.

The two women are polar opposites in many ways. Lilysse is carefree and demure, while Arnice is confident and serious, though she has an easily rattled side to her. Their reunion after what has seemingly been quite some time apart begins with the two displaying that characteristic awkwardness around one another that two former lovers often show, but it's obvious that there are still feelings there — particularly once Arnice starts finding crystallised memories around the city that forms the backdrop to the story, and when she starts exploring dream sequences that give you the option of either exploring the overall lore of the setting or the relationship between Arnice and Lilysse.

The gameplay of Nights of Azure isn't your standard action RPG. There's a bit of Castlevania in regard to the gothic opera aesthetic; there's a bit of Shin Megami Tensei in the demon-summoning mechanics — the majority of your damage output in combat will come from your summoned demons; Arnice is mostly there to give orders and support; there's a bit of 3D brawler action in terms of the basic controls; and there's even a touch of the Souls series in there with regard to one of the game's two main currencies being "blood" which can be used either to power up Arnice or purchase things.

Combat is fairly straightforward but satisfying. Arnice has a weak and a strong attack — initially with just a sword, but later with three other weapons — and a special attack that consumes her SP bar. She also has four decks of up to four Servans each to summon, and these also cost SP to summon. When a Servan is summoned, it performs a special ability, so it's tactically advantageous to wait for a good moment to summon them rather than getting them out right away; once they're out, they also have access to a Burst ability as well as their skills that they use automatically. This Burst ability is strong and tied to the Servan's role in the party, be it tank, damage dealer or healer, and is limited by the Servan's own SP bar.

The Servan stuff is interesting because it reminds me of the good bits of Japanese collectible card games on mobile: you collect units, you level them up and upgrade them, you customise them with attachments, and you take a suitable deck into battle with you to deal with any encounters you might face. Unlike Arnice, Servans level up just by engaging in combat — no Blood required — and gain access to more abilities as they reach higher levels. Arnice can find or purchase Fetishes throughout the game, too, and these can either be "actualised" into a new Servan, or given to an existing Servan to buff them up. Servans' skills can also be customised by giving them various items.

The structure of Nights of Azure is pretty intriguing, too. All the main action goes on at night-time, and you're limited to bursts of 15 minutes in the action stages before you have to go back to Arnice's home base. In practice, this never really becomes an issue because you'll reach a checkpoint or finish an area long before the timer expires in most cases. After coming back from the evening's adventures, Arnice does some "daytime activities" that can result in the acquisition of skill points in four different fields, which can then be spent to acquire different abilities. She's also able to take on quests aside from the main story, which are generally either "kill [x] of [y]" or "find [z]", but reward her with useful items and currency. There's also a battle arena where she can take on combat challenges with specific conditions to clear, with varying rewards on offer according to what her score is when she's completed the challenge in question.

All in all, it feels like a very, very odd game so far — though this isn't a bad thing at all. It feels inventive and interesting rather than being same old, same old, and I'm interested to see how it develops further. The core narrative of the relationship between the two leading ladies is intriguing and compelling, and the whole narrative is dripping with initially unexplained mysteries, supported by the overall aesthetic having a wonderful otherworldly feel to it — drenched in blue mist with character models that look like flowing pencil sketches, somewhat similar to the Atelier series.

And the music. Oh gosh. How wonderful is the music? Combining Michiru Yamane-style gothic rock tracks in the action stages with some distinctly Shoji Meguro-style jazz and funk back at the hotel and some beautiful solo piano pieces during the more heartfelt moments, the soundtrack is absolutely lovely.

It's a pity the translation is so atrocious, riddled with typos and grammatical errors — and one of the PSN trophies even refers to the protagonist by the wrong name, presumably an erroneous transliteration from the original Japanese — but ultimately even these flaws don't detract from an immediately intriguing, compelling and downright bizarre action RPG that deserves a great deal more love and attention than I can guarantee it's (not) going to get from the gaming community at large.

The post 2266: Nights of Azure: A Peculiar Game Destined for Cult Status? appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

The other night, Square Enix held a livestreamed event showing off some information about their upcoming RPG Final Fantasy XV. It was, I think, the biggest deal I've ever seen any company make about one single game, and as a marketing exercise, it was enormously successful — despite the rather irritating hosts (I now have even less desire to check out Kinda Funny Games than I did before, which wasn't much) the event did a good job of teasing the game as well as uncovering some genuine surprises.

This latter aspect is no mean feat in this day and age of leaks and rumours, and it was almost ruined earlier in the day when Gamespot "accidentally" (yeah, I'm sure you hated all the traffic you got) leaked the game's September 30th release date. Fortunately, the other surprises — and there were several — were successfully kept under wraps, and Square Enix were even able to have a bit of fun with the knowledge that the release date was already out in the wild rather than doing the usual po-faced corporate thing.

So what's so exciting about Final Fantasy XV then? Well, for me, the most interesting and exciting thing about it is the fact that Square Enix is clearly going all-out on this one. They are taking it very seriously and obviously throwing an enormous budget at both the game and its extended universe.

Yes, I said extended universe: that was one of the biggest surprises of the presentation for me. Because Final Fantasy XV won't just be telling its story through the game, though this will naturally be the main focus. Alongside the game we're also getting a prequel anime series, depicting how the main character Noctis and his friends became so close, and a feature-length CG movie called Kingsglaive, which shows a parallel story to the game focusing on Noctis' father King Regis. Not only that, but we're also getting a mobile game that actually looks like it might be quite fun, and is actually part of the main game's world.

Final Fantasy XV does have a bit of an uphill struggle ahead of it, however, for numerous reasons. Although Final Fantasy XIV built a considerable amount of goodwill for the series — particularly among lifelong Final Fantasy fans — its audience was relatively limited compared to the rest of the series thanks to its status as a massively multiplayer online game, and a subscription-based one at that. Its single-player predecessors, the three games in the Final Fantasy XIII series, however, had a somewhat peculiar reception — Final Fantasy XIII was roundly praised on its original release, but since then it has seemingly become fashionable to bash it, with complaints ranging from the protagonist Lightning being boring (she isn't), the game systems being too simple (they aren't) and the tutorial being 20 hours long (kind of true, but it actually keeps the early hours of the game moving along at a good pace).

Not only that, but Final Fantasy XV is a radical reinvention of how we play Final Fantasy. Or, at least, that's what people think. In truth, Final Fantasy hasn't been what the people complaining about XV's systems think it is for quite some time now, and XV is simply following a pattern of the game gradually experimenting, changing and innovating with each new iteration.

The reason why people feel that XV is such a sudden shift in direction — even though it really isn't — is because their frame of reference is still, for whatever reason, limited to Final Fantasy games up to maybe X at the latest, and X is the point where the series started getting a lot more experimental than it had been.

That's not to say, however, that the series had rested on its laurels; on the contrary, despite the early installments in particular seeming quite similar in terms of mechanics, each did something very different. Don't believe me? Well, all right. I'll prove it.

• Final Fantasy: First in the series. Eschewed static character classes in favour of the ability to "promote" each of the classes to a more powerful, effective version partway through the game. Established the "Jobs" that have been used in many other Final Fantasy installments since.
• Final Fantasy II: Eschewed a traditional progression system in favour of an Elder Scrolls-style "level it up by doing it" system. Get more HP by getting hit. Get more MP by casting magic. Get more strength by hitting things. Took some getting used to, but was an interesting twist on the standard RPG formula, and is all the more remarkable considering it came out in 1988.
• Final Fantasy III: Returned to a traditional levelling system but combined this with the ability to switch character Jobs without having to completely respec or reset levels. You could change your party makeup on the fly without having to change characters, in other words.
• Final Fantasy IV: First 16-bit installment in the series. First use of the Active Time Battle system, which combined the strategy of turn-based combat with a real-time element. Stronger emphasis on story and characterisation through static, non-customisable characters.
• Final Fantasy V: Revamped Final Fantasy III's Job system and made it even more flexible with the ability to equip abilities you had learned from other Jobs, allowing you to effectively create hybrid characters. Used Active Time Battle.
• Final Fantasy VI: One of the most impressive games on the Super NES, both technically and in terms of storytelling. First use of the "learning abilities from equipping things" system used in several other installments — here, abilities were learned by equipping Espers, the summonable creatures. Used Active Time Battle.
• Final Fantasy VII: First 32-bit installment in the series, first CD-based installment in the series and first 3D polygonal installment in the series. A spectacular achievement of the time, both technically and in terms of storytelling. Introduced Materia, which have made an appearance in a couple of other Final Fantasy games. Used Active Time Battle, brought to life in animated 3D rather than relatively static 2D for the first time.
• Final Fantasy VIII: First installment to have realistically proportioned characters. Outlandish character development system in which character level was less important than the Guardian Force (summon) you had equipped on the character, and what magic spells you had Junctioned to stats. An unpopular installment due to its initially baffling and easily gamed mechanics, but a solid story and visually very impressive for the time. Used Active Time Battle.
• Final Fantasy IX: A supposed "return to the roots" of the series, featuring less realistically proportioned characters but maintaining the polygonal characters on pre-rendered backdrops aesthetic of VII and VIII. Brought back the "learn things by equipping stuff" system, this time with abilities attached to equipment. Used Active Time Battle.
• Final Fantasy X: First entry on the PlayStation 2, and first entry to have full 3D polygonal environments both on the field and in battle. Also first entry to have voice-overs, which also meant the end of being able to rename your characters — except for the protagonist, whom no-one ever said the name of throughout. Did not use Active Time Battle, instead using a turn-based system with a manipulable turn order called Conditional Turn-Based Battle. Also eschewed traditional levelling in favour of the "Sphere Grid" system, which allowed either a little or a lot of control over character development depending on if you chose the original or "advanced" version at the outset of the game.
• Final Fantasy X-2: First direct sequel in the series. Returned to Active Time Battle, but revamped it with variable length turn bars. Also brought back the Job system, but revamped it with the ability to change Job in mid-battle. First non-linear entry in the series, with the whole world map open from the outset and the freedom to tackle challenges in whatever order you want, level and gear permitting. Also featured multiple endings according to how much optional content you saw.
• Final Fantasy XI: First massively multiplayer installment in the series. First entry since the original Final Fantasy to feature a player-created character. First entry to use a freely rotatable over-the-shoulder camera rather than fixed camera angles. First entry to feature pretty-much-kinda-sort-of-real-time combat.
• Final Fantasy XII: First single-player installment to feature MMO-style pretty-much-kinda-sort-of-real-time combat. First truly open-world single-player Final Fantasy in which it was possible to run from one end of the world to the other without having to go to a separate "World Map" screen. First (and only) use of the License and Gambit systems, allowing for a considerable amount of character customisation and tweaking of party members' AI respectively.
• Final Fantasy XIII: First PlayStation 3 entry in the series. First use of Paradigm system, allowing for switching of roles in mid-battle — though these weren't the old Jobs from past installments. Changed focus in battle from micromanaging turn-based combat to switching your party lineup (and, consequently, abilities) to respond to situations. Had a lot more tactical depth than people in the last few years gave it credit for.
• Final Fantasy XIII-2: Built on XIII's base systems and mixed things up a bit with two fixed party members and a third slot taken by recruitable, trainable, nameable monsters. Featured an absolutely baffling non-linear time-travelling storyline, showing everyone that XIII's linearity perhaps wasn't such a bad thing after all. First Final Fantasy to have DLC. (Oh, yay.)
• Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII: First second sequel in the series. First game to focus exclusively on one character (with the arguable exception of Final Fantasy XI, though you try doing anything solo in that game). Featured a Job-like system where you could change outfit in mid-combat for access to different abilities, and each outfit had its own independent Active Time Battle-esque bar. Allowed free movement and dodging in combat. Featured a non-linear, time-limited structure designed to be replayed.
• Final Fantasy XIV: Second attempt at a massively multiplayer installment in the series. Massively ambitious — too much so. Gave players a great deal of freedom but not enough direction. Had a seamless open world. Technically impressive — if you could run it — but a disastrous failure.
• Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn: The most impressive "phoenix from the ashes" I've ever seen. A Realm Reborn ditched its predecessor's more unconventional aspects and adopted a more traditional MMO structure with a heavy focus on matchmaking cooperative content and a Job system in which you could individually level Jobs as if they were completely different characters. The most story-heavy MMO I've played for some time, and a true love letter to fans of the series, with guest appearances from characters including Gilgamesh, Ultros, Shantotto, Lightning and numerous others. Expanded by Heavensward.

So as you can hopefully see from that breakdown, Final Fantasy has consistently reinvented and updated itself with each installment. While the entries between IV and IX all used the Active Time Battle system for their battles, their core progression mechanics were very different to one another. And from X onwards, the series became considerably more experimental with both battle and progression mechanics; its only look back to the "line up in a row and take it in turns to hit things" approach was X-2, and even that did plenty of interesting things with the basic format.

Now we've established that Final Fantasy has been pretty consistently inventive throughout its considerable lifespan, XV's approach doesn't seem quite so scary a change. And it seems even less scary when you actually play either the Episode Duscae demo that came out around the time of Final Fantasy Type-0 HD — we didn't even get into spinoffs in the list above, otherwise we'd be here all night — or the recently released Platinum Demo, which primarily acts as a showcase for the game's engine and basic mechanics.

My friend Chris described Final Fantasy XV's approach to combat as taking the philosophy behind turn-based combat and applying it to a real-time depiction. This is why you don't button-mash — you hold a button down to attack. You have time to consider what you're doing rather than hack-and-slash. You have limited resources to use for casting spells or defending. The strategy is there, it's just in a slightly different form to what we might be used to.

And, having spent some time with both Episode Duscae and Platinum Demo, I'm convinced. The fluidity of the combat animations and how seamlessly you can switch from one weapon to another mid-combo is sure to make for some interesting battles, and once party members and more spectacular abilities start coming into play I don't doubt we'll be seeing some truly exciting setpieces, of which the battle with Behemoth in Episode Duscae is just a tame example.

Final Fantasy may not be what it used to be, then, but it's never really been "what it used to be", because it's reinvented itself with each and every installment. Embrace and enjoy the change — XV genuinely does look like it's going to be a real work of art when it's finally with us at the end of September, and I for one can't wait to get my hands on it.

Or, if you really can't deal with Final Fantasy doing new things… well, there's always Bravely Default, which absolutely is doing what Final Fantasy used to do, and I say that with great fondness.

The post 2265: Final Fantasy XV's Going to Be Something Special appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I cleared Megadimension Neptunia VII's True Ending path this evening, after a horrible moment where I thought I hadn't triggered it and would have to do the whole thing through again (which is actually not quite as monumental an undertaking as you might think) — and I was very impressed with one of the most satisfying finales I've seen in a story-based game for quite some time.

Mild spoilers ahead.

At the core of MegaNep's overarching narrative is the story of Uzume Tennouboshi, a new character to the series who, like the series regulars, embodies a games console — in this case, Sega's ahead-of-its-time Dreamcast. For those unfamiliar with their gaming hardware history, the Dreamcast was a 128-bit console that came out towards the tail end of the console generation that was primarily 32- and 64-bit: that of the original PlayStation and the Nintendo 64. It was astronomically powerful in comparison to its contemporaries and was home to some wonderful games, many of which are still fondly remembered today. But for one reason or another, it was regarded as a commercial failure, and both it and its games dropped out of mainstream distribution after just a couple of years, with the 128-bit era only starting in earnest once the PlayStation 2 shattered all expectations of what console gaming was all about following its launch in 2000.

Uzume's identity and background is initially a mystery to Neptune and company, but over the source of MegaNep's complete story, her past comes to light. Having once been a goddess to what is now Neptune's domain of Planeptune, she was voluntarily sealed away due to the fact that she was unable to control her "illusion" power and largely forgotten about; an allegory for the Dreamcast being released onto the market too early and developers and publishers alike arguably not being sure how to make best use of this new power on offer.

The main villain of the piece is revealed very late in the story to be the darker side of Uzume, representing her irrational hatred and bitterness at feeling abandoned by her people. Through a complicated series of happenings too twisty-turny to describe in detail here, Neptune and her friends eventually manage to help Uzume come to terms with her past and realise that her memories have become tainted by hatred and regret; her people, in fact, loved her and cherished her, and it was with a heavy heart that they saw her sealed away for the protection of everyone.

There are two endings to MegaNep: one in which Uzume sacrifices herself to ensure her dark counterpart is not able to send a horde of monsters from her delusional "Heart Dimension" into Neptune's Hyper Dimension, and another in which Neptune and her friends refuse to leave her to die, and ultimately help her to overcome her darkness. This latter one is the True ending, and it demonstrates beyond a shadow of a doubt that the team at Idea Factory and Compile Heart hold the Dreamcast in considerable esteem; the truth about Uzume's past is described with such a wonderfully warm feeling of fondness that it's hard not to feel extremely nostalgic if you happened to be there when it all happened in our world, and the Neptunia series' biggest strength — characterisation and the feeling of bonds between these characters — really shines through as everyone expresses their love for Uzume and she, likewise, expresses her love for them.

What also made the ending satisfying, aside from this wonderfully genuine-feeling appreciation for the Dreamcast and its games, was the Neptunia series trademark "Thank You Corner", where the cast completely break the fourth wall and address the player directly, thanking them for playing and showering them with praise for beating the game. This is always a lovely moment in every Neptunia game, but in the case of MegaNep it feels particularly heartfelt; it's obvious that the words coming out of the mouths of the characters are actually those of the series' creators, expressing their gratitude for the series having gone from strength to strength over the years, overcoming the adversity of its early installments' poor reviews, widespread ignorance from the press and self-professed RPG "experts" that persists to this day, and ultimately becoming a genuinely rather wonderful franchise that I really don't want to see the back of any time soon.

In many ways, it was like a "curtain call" for the game, and while previous Neptunia games have handled this in much the same way, there was something about this moment in MegaNep that made it more satisfying and touching than it's ever been before. It's a rare and wonderful feeling for a creative work to seem like it's talking directly to you, but the Neptunia series has always felt that way, and never more so than with Megadimension Neptunia VII.

Onwards to the post-game, then; I have trophies to clean up and Colosseum battles to fight! (And in the meantime, I promise I'll find something new to write about soon.)

The post 2233: MegaNep's True Ending: A Love Letter to the Dreamcast, and to the Player appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Tonight, we cleared the last area of the new raid dungeon in Final Fantasy XIV… in its "normal" incarnation, anyway. Savage is likely to prove a somewhat stiffer challenge, but regular ol' vanilla had plenty of hurdles to overcome, too.

Now that we've been through all four of the new raids, I thought I'd ponder how I felt about them, and about Alexander as a whole compared to The Binding Coil of Bahamut.

The first thing to note about Alexander is that the overall tone of the whole thing is very different to Coil. Coil represented one of the most serious, dramatic parts of Final Fantasy XIV's story, and over its entirety revealed some very significant background lore about the Allagans and the Meracydians, both of whom we'd seen mentioned (and occasionally explored the relics of) but never encountered, mostly due to them both being long dead.

Alexander, meanwhile, largely concerns the goblins, and much like their Final Fantasy XI counterparts, goblins in Final Fantasy XIV are rather silly, afflicted with distinctive speech patterns and, for the most part, there for comic relief. They're not very threatening, in other words, so for them to be introduced as the main villains of the new raid cycle was… interesting, to say the least.

The overall aesthetic of Alexander is very different to Coil, too. Coil began as an expedition into the bowels of the earth and gradually gave way into a combination of fantastic, otherworldly scenery and pure sci-fi, futuristic environments, many of which were absolutely breathtaking in their scale. Alexander, conversely, has a pretty consistent "steampunk" look throughout its entirety, though Midas does a somewhat better job than Gordias in terms of presenting a bit of variety in the way things look.

This difference in aesthetic extends to the main attraction of the raids, too: the bosses. In Coil, you fought a wide variety of foes, ranging from a giant genetically modified snake to a fearsome dragon god via technologically advanced defence systems, a bioengineered lamia, a robot treant and, of course, the reincarnation of Final Fantasy XIV 1.0's main villain, Nael van Darnus, now going by Nael deus Darnus having apparently changed gender and gone a bit, well, dragonish.

Alexander, conversely, sees you fighting a lot of things in a similar mould: in Gordias, you fight a large steampunk robot thing, followed by a swarm of goblins and large steampunk robot things, followed by a squishy Pepsiman wannabe in what appears to be a sewage outlet, concluding with a battle against The Manipulator, which is a large steampunk robot thing. Midas is a bit better: first you fight a mad scientist goblin who keeps drinking his own concoctions and growing to Hulk-like proportions, then you fight a series of four large steampunk robot things, then you fight the main villain of the plot arc (and his cat), then finally you fight five large steampunk robot things — four of which you fought earlier in the raid — that then combine to make one enormous steampunk robot thing.

While I still like Alexander less than Coil in terms of its aesthetic and enemy designs, Midas is a big step in a better direction. Everything about it is better, from the variety between the four areas to the background plot that is revealed as you progress, which was rather lacking and forgettable in Gordias. It still lacks some of the outright drama that Coil had — the final boss of this particular cycle is an intense fight, but it's more chaotically humorous than terrifying like Twintania, Nael and Bahamut were — but things are improving a lot.

Of particular note is the boss music for the final boss, which I present with some pleasure for you below, in all its '70s anime glory:

Happy with how things have turned out with 3.2. I was getting concerned the game was losing its magic, but it's well and truly back on target.

The post 2231: Initial Impressions on Alexander: Midas appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I forget why I paused my playthrough of Dungeon Travelers 2 a while back, but it certainly wasn't because I didn't like it. On the contrary, I absolutely love it, and have been really enjoying getting back into it sporadically in the evenings over the last week or so.

For those who missed my previous enthusings on the subject of this game, allow me to explain.

Dungeon Travelers 2 is an old-school "gridder" dungeon crawler for PlayStation Vita, developed by Sting and published by Atlus. Absolutely no-one would have heard of it were it not for Polygon's Phil Kollar writing an indignant article called "Atlus can do better than this creepy, porn-lite dungeon crawler" a while back, after which everyone who thought Kollar was being a shallow, judgemental douchebag promptly preordered the game and eagerly awaited its arrival. While a lot of this immediate backlash was simply to spite Kollar's terrible article — which didn't even make an effort to understand anything about the game beyond "it has somewhat suggestive images in it" — those in the know were quick to point out that developer Sting has an impeccable pedigree when it comes to mechanically solid and interesting role-playing games that are often just a little bit unusual, making them very memorable.

Structurally, Dungeon Travelers 2 is fairly business as usual for the gridder genre; it's the moment to moment gameplay where it shines, and particularly the variety of ways in which it's possible to play. Heavily based on party composition and character classes, the frequent combat in the game is not the sort of thing you can get through by mashing the "Attack" button — indeed, this is a game that will happily obliterate your entire party in the very first dungeon if you don't take appropriate precautions and play cautiously, remembering that in dungeon crawlers, it is usually inadvisable to attempt to clear out an entire dungeon in one single expedition.

No, rather Dungeon Travelers 2's combat is based very much on making appropriate use of your party's abilities, both active and passive. There's a certain amount of MMO-style conceit in there, too; unlike many turn-based RPGs, it is absolutely possible to have a tank up front maintaining the attention of the enemies as much as possible, while the back row rains down death from a distance.

Timing is absolutely key, too, even though the game is strictly turn-based. Spells and certain abilities don't cast immediately; they have a period of time during which the caster has to chant the spell or song, and it's only after this that it activates. Spells can be interrupted by a significant amount of damage or being afflicted with a status effect such as Stun or Silence — see, told you it was MMO-ish.

A lot of the passive abilities are really interesting, too. There's one of the Berserker tank abilities that afflicts enemies with some significant stat debuffs when they hit you, and others that counterattack with nasty status effects or even outright damage in return. Certain buffs and debuffs can make these procs (there I go with the MMO lingo again) more or less likely to trigger, so effective combat is a case of judging the situation and making your party handle it in the most efficient manner.

A good example comes from the Girimekhala boss I fought in my last play session. She had a bunch of really unpleasant abilities, including a heavy physical attack on a whole row of party members, another heavy physical attack on characters adjacent in the turn order, a dance that lowered party stats and inflicted damage every round, and an ability similar to the Berserker's counter-debuff mentioned above.

The first couple of times I fought Girimekhala, I went all-out attack and was quickly obliterated; tanks can't tank very well if their stats are shot to shit, and once they went down, the back line quickly followed.

What I ended up doing was have Alisia the Valkyrie (defense tank) use her Cover ability for a one-off (until recast) chance to take damage in place of a party member, her Parry ability to completely nullify damage from one physical attack, and her Material Barrier ability to shield the entire party against physical damage. I then activated Grishna's Blood Rage ability to boost her maximum HP so she could soak up some damage, too; as a Berserker, her defence isn't anywhere near as good as a Valkyrie, but she makes up for this with her auto-debuff ability and strong offensive abilities which, while not very useful in this battle as they would always be countered, are often a big help.

Meanwhile, the back row got to work. Melvy the Witch (one of the strongest caster classes) repeatedly cast heavy damage single-target spells on Girimekhala, and acted as the main DPS (or DPT if we're being picky, I guess) of the group. Fiora the Priestess, meanwhile, simply acted as a healbot, throwing out Circle Heal every turn to cure any damage that had managed to get through Alisia's monstrous physical resistance. And Conette the Diva (support class) sang a song that helped Melvy and Fiora to chant their spells more quickly as well as using her Cook ability from her base Maid class to keep everyone's TP (needed to use abilities or cast spells) topped up.

Puzzling this out and putting the plan into action was extremely satisfying, and much more interesting than simply throwing attacks out and occasionally healing. This fight simply wasn't possible to win with an all-out attack strategy; as you'll see from my description above, only one out of my five party members was inflicting damage on the boss, with the others all simply supporting the group in various ways. Thankfully Melvy's magic damage as a Witch is absolutely astronomical, so her burst damage more than made up for the relative infrequency of hits on the boss.

To cut a long story short, Phil Kollar could not have been more wrong about Dungeon Travelers 2. While it is filled with suggestive artwork and distinctly ecchi scenes both involving the main characters and when you defeat the monstergirl bosses, that's certainly not a reason to write it off or wag your finger at publisher Atlus, telling them they "can do better". In fact, it's absolutely one of the best examples of the dungeon crawler genre I've had the pleasure of playing to date, although be ready for a seriously stiff challenge, particularly once you start getting into the optional dungeons and boss fights.

The post 2230: A Reminder that Dungeon Travelers 2 is Excellent appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Well, I finally finished Megadimension Neptunia VII for the first time. Took about 62 hours or so in the end; that was taking it fairly leisurely through the game and taking the time to unlock stuff here and there that I perhaps didn't need to do on a first playthrough. Next up for me is a New Game Plus run in which I go for the "true" ending, which leads on to a post-game segment during which you can clean up any bits and pieces you didn't finish off first time around. Or trophy hunt.

For now, though, I want to talk about my experiences with the game after a complete playthrough.

The first thing to say about the game is that, as I've mentioned before, this is Compile Heart's finest work to date. There are no significant technical issues beyond a couple of very minor frame drops in a few places; the script and translation is excellent (although there are a few more typos than there should be); and the gameplay is satisfying, enjoyable and well-balanced.

The first and last points there address two of the biggest criticisms the Neptunia series has had since its inception. From the original PS3 game onwards, the series — and Compile Heart's work in general — had been plagued with technical issues, most notably atrocious framerates that weren't really justifiable given the relative simplicity of the graphics compared to bigger-budget titles that ran a whole lot better. And, again, from the original game onwards, game balance has been an off-and-on problem: the original game (and the total overhaul Re;Birth1) was inconsistent in its difficulty, erring on the side of "suddenly way too hard" without warning; sequel mk2 and its Re;Birth counterpart was much too easy (and rather short, although it does still have the widest variety of endings in the series); Victory and Re;Birth3, meanwhile, got the closest to nailing the formula, but still had a few elements that could be a bit of a pain, most notably the heavily RNG-based Scout system.

So how does MegaNep counter these original problems? Well, in the case of the technical issues, it seems that Compile Heart is significantly more comfortable developing for PS4 than PS3. MegaNep runs at a pretty consistent 60fps pretty much all of the time; the only time it drops is in particularly busy scenes such as the "sakura"-style dungeons with cherry blossoms everywhere. MegaNep is even an improvement over the company's last game Omega Quintet, which ran very nicely in battle scenes, but which juddered a little bit in the (admirably large and sprawling) field areas. It's not going to win any awards for looking amazing, of course, but the graphics are perfectly acceptable and, as is the norm for the series, the character models and animations are very nice indeed.

As for the gameplay balancing, Compile Heart really feel like they've nailed it this time around. At no point did I feel like the game was too easy or too difficult, and progression was paced well. It's not a game that you need to grind to level 99 to be able to beat the last boss, either; my clear party consisted of characters between levels 40-60 (Nepgear being the highest at 60, not that I show her any favouritism, nosirree) and they dispatched the last boss without any difficulty. In other words, it's a game that you can stumble your way through from start to finish without running into too much trouble, but if you go a little off the beaten track from the linear storyline, there are plenty of ways to challenge yourself — and plenty of things to do in New Game Plus, too.

The game systems, having been significantly revamped from the Victory/Re;Birth formula, work extremely well. Skills don't feel over- or under-powered, and the basic combo attacks each character can perform are actually useful for things other than building up the EXE Drive meter now, too. Each character feels unique, too, with a variety of different skills, weapon types, combo arrangements and multi-person formation attacks to play with; there are a clearly number of "optimal" party setups that provide you with the most flexibility in terms of formation and partner moves in particular, but the systems are balanced well enough that you can take pretty much any combination you like into battle and have a good time. Oh, and while there are a few recycled dungeons from past games — it's series tradition by this point — there's also a ton of brand new, original content, including the wonderfully inventive (and infuriating) Neplunker dungeons as well as the mapless Senmuu Labyrinth.

Now, narrative and characterisation has never really been an issue for the Neptunia series, though my one criticism has been that it tends to have slightly weedy finales, particularly the final boss fights, which have previously been quite underwhelming at times. Pleasingly, MegaNep's finale (at least in the ending I got) is spectacular, dramatic and even emotional; it really tugs on the heartstrings as you see what these characters — characters who many players have spent many hours with — are going through to resolve the latest crisis.

The story in general is very good; split into three distinct acts, each with their own focus and expanding scale, it's interesting, enjoyable, varied and clever. It's not a rehash of the previous games' stories at all and it has worthwhile things to say, but it's never forgotten the series' roots in satire and parody. It's laugh-out-loud funny in places, tearjerkingly emotional in others. It's the best script the Neptunia characters have ever had to work with, and, like so much else about this game, feels like such a magnificent step up from the previous games that it's a delight to see. I'll talk more about this after I've seen the "true" ending and how it resolves things in an alternative manner.

In other words, it's not just a great Neptunia game, it's a great RPG, period. The only thing that saddens me is the fact that so many people will write it off without even giving it a shot for themselves; still, I guess that makes it all the more special for those of us in the know who can enjoy and appreciate it, both on its own merits and as, to date, the absolute pinnacle of the series.

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The post 2228: MegaNep: Thoughts After a First Playthrough appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

50 hours deep in Megadimension Neptunia VII and I'm just starting the third and final "episode", Heart Dimension Neptunia H. So far I haven't set foot in the titular Heart Dimension, but the plot has been set up; in the meantime I've been doing a little bit of questing and grinding with the CPU Candidates, who are the focus of the initial part of the H arc.

The game continues to be the most enjoyable Neptunia game yet. Everything about it is honed and refined to round off the scrappy edges of the previous installments; while the Re;Birth remakes provided small, incremental improvements on the format set in place by Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory, MegaNep is, as I've previously noted, a complete overhaul of pretty much every system in the game, from the battle mechanics to the way "shares" work.

Perhaps one of the best changes is how unique each character now feels to play in battle. Rather than all essentially working in the same way outside of the SP-powered special skills and super-powerful EXE Drive attacks, now each character very much has their own distinctive feel and circumstances in which they are useful. This is achieved in several ways, largely to do with the weapons and combo attacks they are able to use.

Each weapon in MegaNep not only has the usual stats, but it also has a specific arrangement of combo slots, split into three categories: Rush, Power and Standard. (Break attacks have gone the way of the Guard Points bar that they were used to damage; I can't say I miss the system, since it became largely irrelevant after a certain power level in the old games.) As in previous games, Rush attacks focus on a high hit count, with less power per individual hit, and also have a more significant impact on the EXE Drive meter, which now, incidentally, resets between every battle rather than carrying over as in the previous games. Power attacks, meanwhile, have fewer hits, hit harder and in many cases carry an elemental affinity, allowing you to exploit weaknesses. And Standard attacks are somewhere in between the two.

Where things get interesting is in trying to arrange these combos optimally. Characters learn new combo moves as they level up, but each can only be put in a single slot. Moreover, the first attack a weapon performs is fixed and not tied to the character's unlocked skills; this comes into play when considering the individual combo moves' Combo Traits, which, if fulfilled when you use them in battle, means that the combo move that triggered it will 1) be guaranteed to hit and 2) be guaranteed to crit with every hit, increasing overall damage considerably. Combo Traits vary from "All previous attacks did not use a Combo Trait" to "Haven't used Power attacks" and numerous others besides. The challenge when customising a character is to give them as many workable combos with Traits as possible, enabling them to respond to different situations in an optimal manner. It seems to be impossible to build the "perfect" combo — every move triggering a Combo Trait — at my current level, but I wonder if it will be an option with later weapons and/or combo moves.

Anyway. Given that each character has their own set of combo skills and their own set of weapons (each of which has its own arrangement of combo slots as well as its own area of effect) there's a considerable degree of flexibility in how you set up your party, particularly with the sheer number of playable characters on offer in the game. And you'll want to rotate them around, too; back-line characters no longer gain experience points (with a couple of exceptions) and there are certain circumstances where you're obliged to use one or more specific characters in a fight, so they better be suitably set up when that time comes! The series' Lily Rank system is back, too, only this time Lily Ranks are gained by characters fighting together in the front row, making them somewhat easier to gain — at least it feels that way so far — and in order to max these out you'll need to tweak your party arrangement every so often, particularly if you're Trophy hunting.

Elsewhere in the combat, while there are a lot of disposable popcorn enemies — particularly on the world map, where after a certain point random battles become more of an inconvenience than an actual hazard in getting to your destination — the highlights of the game are the boss fights. The game knows this, too, presenting you with unique interface elements, including one thing that I oddly like very much and can't quite explain why: the boss HP meter with multiple bars. Yes, rather than depleting one bar very slowly while battering down a boss-level enemy, MegaNep takes a Final Fantasy XII-esque approach of having a number of "lights" beneath the main HP bar for a boss, with a light dimming each time you empty the bar. Dim all the lights and you've won. It's essentially a variation on the system that was used in titles like Shining Force and Senran Kagura, where different coloured HP bars represented how many "extra" bars a character or enemy had over the maximum possible to display on screen proportionally.

Outside of my rather specific, peculiar tastes in HP meters, though, back to the boss fights themselves: a lot of them are pretty good, and this is largely thanks to a couple of new mechanics introduced in MegaNep. One is the "Parts Break" system, whereby certain enemies have breakable sections with their own durability counts. In order to damage the part, your character needs to be standing in an appropriate place when they either unleash their combo or a special move. Break the part and you get extra XP, credits and a chance at some extra drops. In many cases, breaking the part also has an effect on the boss, either reducing an aspect of its defences or removing the capability for a particular attack. In one particularly memorable confrontation, a boss is completely immune to all damage except Parts damage until you break the cape on his back — to make matters more challenging, the cape can only be damaged by attacks with an elemental affinity. The fight quickly turns into an entertaining dance as you decide whether to try and break his gauntlets and the horn on his head to cripple his special attacks, or whether to focus on trying to get behind him to destroy his cape and be able to deal some real damage.

The new EXE Drive system works well, too; rather than encouraging you to get into a bunch of random fights in a dungeon just to charge it up before a boss fight, the fact it 1) resets at the start of combat and 2) fills much more quickly than in past games means that you're much more likely to be using the spectacular, entertaining EXE Drive moves, which is good, because there are a lot more of them, including several multi-character ones that necessitate surrounding an enemy in appropriate formations. Transforming the CPUs and their sisters into their HDD (and, later, their Next Form) incarnations also costs a bar of EXE Drive rather than SP, meaning you can pretty much guarantee the ability to transform in every fight if you need it — to discourage spamming this, however, transforming now costs Shares, though getting KO'd costs significantly more Shares, so you'll want to weigh up the pros and cons before doing anything rash. Shares work like their original intention in the first Hyperdimension Neptunia game: the more shares one of the nations has, the stronger their CPU (and her sister) is. They're no longer a zero-sum game, however; increasing one nation's shares no longer means taking them from someone else; it's possible to have all four nations with maxed-out share bars, all enjoying the benefits of being Top Nep.

Anyway. I've waffled on for over 1,300 words on the systems in this game and not even mentioned the story and characters, which are still my favourite bit of the series. I'll save that for another day, though, perhaps when I've finished my first playthrough: there's a lot to talk about, with this being by far the most interesting Neptunia game story-wise as well as in terms of mechanics.

It's pretty good, in other words. Very good, in fact. Buy it. Support it. I want to see more Neps. (At this point, I don't think we have a lot to worry about there.)

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Good Lord, this game is good.

As I mentioned the other day, Megadimension Neptunia V-II marks something of a watershed moment for the series in that it's no longer "good, but [insert caveat of your choice here]" and is just plain good. Great, even.

I'm about 21 hours in so far. I've finished the first of the three main stories that make up the complete experience — Zerodimension Neptunia Z — and am now in the second, Hyperdimension Neptunia G. This part — at least the first bit of it; I don't know how long it is in total — is split into four distinct scenarios, each of which focuses on one of the four main goddess characters (and one of the four new "Gold Third" characters, who personify various Japanese game companies from Capcom to Square Enix), and so far I've played through Blanc's route from start to finish.

Like Compile Heart's previous game Omega Quintet, MegaNep spreads out its mechanics over the course of quite a few hours. 20 hours in, I'm still getting tutorial messages when I'm afflicted with a status effect I haven't suffered before, though I think that most of the main core mechanics of the game have now been introduced by this point. Unlike Final Fantasy XIII, which often draws the ire of commentators for taking a similar approach to spreading out its new mechanics, MegaNep never feels like it's artificially constraining you, though; the new systems I've seen so far were all introduced at the changeover between Zerodimension Neptunia Z and Hyperdimension Neptunia G, which was an eminently sensible way to do things, since it allows Z to stand by itself as a complete-feeling experience, then G to move on and feel distinctive in its own right thanks to the additional things you have to juggle.

What of those additional things, though? Well, aside from the things that Z already shook up — the world map is now node-based a la Final Fantasy Tactics, and you can have random encounters while moving from place to place; the battle system has been completely revamped from previous installments — G introduces (and, in some cases, reintroduces) a number of new systems.

First is the Scout system originally seen in Hyperdimension Neptunia Victory. Essentially, this is a small army of chibi characters (series veterans will recognise them as the "Chirper" characters who fulfil the role of incidental NPCs) that you can send out to dungeons, and they will then report back with what they find. Whereas Victory's Scout system simply required you to enter and leave locations a certain number of times before the Scouts would return, MegaNep's Scouts head out in real time and then report back with items, money, new dungeon features (boss monsters or clues to hidden treasure) or whole new dungeons. There's still a heavy degree of RNG involved, but it's a fairly painless process, and the real-time element means you can easily leave it running while you're doing other errands in-game. Scouts also provide passive bonuses to you if you're exploring the same dungeon they're deployed to, so they're helpful in ways other than just finding stuff, too.

Next is the Investment system, which allows you to develop towns by spending your hard-earned Credits in three areas: Commercial, Industrial and Public Relations. Upgrading Commercial increases the stock in the shops; upgrading Industrial gives you access to new crafting recipes; upgrading Public Relations triggers events that can reward you with items, new Scouts or simply an entertaining scene. That's pretty straightforward.

Then you have the Route Building system, which is also reasonably straightforward. Discover a new dungeon and you can't just click on it on the map like in the older games; you have to build a node-based pathway to it first, which costs money.

Then you have the Hidden Treasure system for each dungeon, which replaces the old games' spamming the "sonar"-type ability to find invisible items. Here, to find a hidden treasure, first of all you have to have a Scout discover a clue to its location, then fulfil the conditions in the clue, then collect the treasure. Sometimes dungeons have more than one treasure, which means you have to do the process twice, though the conditions are usually different. The conditions make the dungeon-crawling a bit more interesting, because they have a decent amount of variety in them: some require you to collect all the regular treasures in a dungeon (some of which may be in awkward places or behind barriers that require the "Breaker" ability to smash) while others require you to execute 8 "Symbol Attacks" in a row without getting spotted by any enemies, which challenges your stealth and pattern-spotting skills. Others still require you to defeat each and every enemy symbol in the whole dungeon at least once — they don't all have to be dead at the same time, but you do have to keep track of what you've already killed and what you haven't.

In Blanc's route, we get a number of different characters to play with, each of whom handles rather differently, fixing the issue from the older games where most of the characters felt rather interchangeable with the exception of their special skills. Blanc herself has a marked disparity between her physical and magic defense, for example, while her sisters Rom and Ram have half of Blanc's HP but much stronger magic resistance and the ability to attack both at range and over a wider area. The brief time you get to play with Capcom personification C-Sha is a ton of fun, too; her combo skills are all named after fighting game terminology, and it's more fun than it should be triggering Rush attacks called simply "PPPK" then seeing her doing a punch-punch-punch-kick combo on the enemy.

The story is proving to be surprisingly compelling so far, too. The Zerodimension episode had a mixture of lightheartedness and post-apocalyptic bleakness and worked well. Blanc's route of the Hyperdimension story deals with a plausible view of a dystopian society where everything and everyone is controlled by the state, and how revolutionaries fighting against this sort of regime aren't always in it for the right reasons. Neptunia's stories have always been far more clever than most reviewers give them credit for, being heavily allegorical for the most part, but so far MegaNep seems to have taken things to a new level. The writing and localisation is good (aside from a few easily ignored typos here and there) and, crucially, the new characters — of whom there are quite a few — fit right in to the world without breaking a sweat.

It does feel very different to previous Neptunia games, but after the three Re;Births that all had the same basic mechanics, it's refreshing to have a game that feels both comfortingly familiar and fresh at the same time. I'm delighted with the experience so far, and am looking forward to playing it to death over the course of the next few weeks. Expect further reports to follow.

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One of the most common complaints I've read about Xenoblade Chronicles X recently is that "the story isn't as good as Xenoblade Chronicles". And, if you look at it in a somewhat superficial manner, that's true to an extent; it suffers a little from the open-world RPG's perennial problem that is putting Important Things on hold while you go and pick flowers or whatever.

You may feel this way until you get your head into the mindset of Xenoblade Chronicles X. It's not a typical JRPG with a fast-paced, completely linear storyline that you can then break completely when the game opens up towards the end. With a few exceptions — most notably the giant mech "Skells" and, later, the ability to fly in them — much of the game is open to you from the very outset, and the whole game is designed around the concept of "what would happen if you (and the rest of humanity's survivors) were stranded on an alien planet with no hope of getting away any time soon?"

In that sense, Xenoblade Chronicles X's narrative — and the way it is told — starts to make a whole lot more sense. The story isn't just about the "story quests" and the cutscenes they incorporate; there's only twelve chapters to the main story, after all. Instead, the complete Xenoblade Chronicles X narrative consists of a blend of all the game's elements: your freeform career as a BLADE operative and the emergent narrative that comes from your adventures in the field; the simple, short stories that come from the Normal Missions and give context to many of the NPCs in the world — and, in many cases, have significant impacts on the world as a whole; the more in-depth, character-centric stories of the Affinity Missions — which also have cutscenes and are fully voiced, unlike the Normal Missions; the conversations you overhear from NPCs you meet in town and in the field; the implied, non-explicit narrative you can deduce from the scenery of the world; and, finally, the "main" story itself.

I mentioned at the beginning the open world RPG's curse of the party putting saving the world (or equivalent activities) on hold while they went to pick flowers, but in fact Xenoblade Chronicles X has been designed with that very criticism in mind. It's strongly implied that a fair amount of time passes between each of the story missions, since there are numerous references to time-consuming things happening "off-screen" throughout. Rather than simply asking you to accept that several days/weeks/months have passed, however, it's more than likely that, unless you're taking a "critical path" approach to racing through the storyline as fast as you can, a significant amount of time probably will have passed between each of the story missions. And it's in those "in between" moments that Xenoblade Chronicles X has some of its most interesting moments.

The aforementioned Normal Missions, for example. While these may appear to have had less attention lavished on them than the cutscene-heavy Affinity and Story Missions, in actual fact they tend to have more noticeable impacts on the world as a whole. As a result of Normal Missions and your choices therein, characters move around and live or die; buildings are built or destroyed; relationships between characters change; and, in the most drastic example of things changing as a result of your actions, new alien races move into the human city of New Los Angeles, meaning that you can then see them wandering around the streets as random crowd NPCs, talking to named members of their species and even accepting missions from them. As you play through the game, your understanding of Mira — and the wider universe outside the planet — begins to grow, as you get a feel for who the Ma-non, Zaruboggan, Prone and numerous others are, and, more importantly, how they feel about both one another and humanity.

The complete picture you build up in your mind as you play is one of the most comprehensively detailed pieces of worldbuilding I've seen for a very long time. It brings to mind the whole idea of "extended universes" for things like Star Trek and Star Wars, only in this instance, the "extended" universe is right there in the game for you to discover if you see fit. There's no obligation to do most of this stuff — though some story missions have prerequisite Affinity or other missions before you can proceed — but doing so makes the game several orders of magnitude more rewarding, as it starts to tell its story in all manner of different ways rather than simply through cutscenes.

As the year draws to a close, there's no doubt in my mind that Xenoblade Chronicles X is absolutely my "game of the year". It's full of all the things that I love, and, while its way of doing things may not to be everyone's taste — particularly the complexity of its systems and the subtleties in its storytelling — I feel pretty confident in saying that it's a landmark game that deserves to be counted among the greats of not just the RPG style of game, nor just the sci-fi genre of narrative games, but of gaming as a whole.

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I've been playing Xenoblade Chronicles X for about 25 hours so far, and I've picked up a few tips and tricks along the way. I will now share them with you, in case you're a newcomer to the game somewhat daunted by the sheer scope of what's on offer.

Your character

• Don't sweat early decisions like which Division to join too much; you can change most things later. About the only thing you can't change is your character's basic appearance.
• Progression is measured in three main ways:
  • Your character level (sometimes referred to as your "inner level") which increases with experience points gained, and affects your base capabilities.
  • Your class rank, which increases with class experience, and which unlocks new Arts and Skills as you rank up. When you reach rank 10, you unlock one or more new classes in that particular tree.
  • Your BLADE level, which increases with BLADE points, acquired through pretty much everything you do in the game, and which unlocks new facilities in the Barracks as well as allowing you to level up your Field Skills. The rate at which you acquire BLADE points for various activities is determined by your Division, so pick a Division that encourages you to do the things you enjoy the most for fastest progress.
• Speaking of Field Skills, level up Mechanical first, since you'll always need this to install probes.
• You can change class at any time. Note that each class has its own signature pair of weapons, so ensure you have appropriate gear before changing.

Equipment

• Determine whether your class's strengths are in ranged or melee combat — this is partly determined by the weapons you use, and partly by the Arts you have equipped. Focus on acquiring equipment that plays to your strengths; for example, the Enforcer class tree particularly specialises in ranged combat, so pick equipment that emphasises your Ranged Attack and Ranged Accuracy stats.
• A higher Attack value on a weapon isn't necessarily better; check the attribute of the weapon, too. Sometimes a weapon with a non-physical attribute and a lower Attack score can be more effective than a physical weapon with a higher Attack attribute; insectoid enemies, for example, are weak against Thermal damage and strong against standard physical damage.
• The colour of a piece of equipment indicates its rarity and quality. White equipment is basic, green is Unique, blue is Rare, yellow is rarer (I've forgotten the official term offhand) and orange is Intergalactic.
• Augments are important. Two weapons that look the same but have different augments can have a very different impact on your character. Using the ranged Enforcer class as an example again, there's not a huge amount of point equipping a gun that boosts your Melee Attack stats; better to play to the class's strengths and try to boost range.
• Don't forget Augments can be upgraded at the AM console in NLA. You'll need Miranium and crafting materials to do this. By upgrading Augments, you can make a piece of equipment several orders of magnitude better than it was when you first acquired it, but note that there's a maximum total number of times each weapon can be upgraded.
• New equipment will become usable every 5-10 levels or so, but you should also make sure you level up the AMs by using their equipment and donating Miranium to unlock additional options within each "tier" of equipment.

Combat

• The most important thing in combat is positioning. Try and put yourself to the side or rear of the enemy whenever possible, as this boosts accuracy and damage. Use the Sprint function liberally in battle to change position quickly, and take note of the position indicator at the bottom right (the thing that says something like "FRONT / MIDDLE") — this indicates your relative horizontal and vertical positions to the enemy. Ideally, you want to be at "BACK / ABOVE" and least ideal would be "FRONT / BELOW".
• When using Arts, there's really no reason not to go for positional bonuses when available. Familiarise yourself with your equipped Arts outside of battle and be prepared to shift your position to unleash them from the appropriate location.
• For Arts that offer bonuses for things like Aura use, keep an eye on your TP meter, because you may need that TP for something other than an Aura at some point.
• Pay attention to Soul Voice; it's the main way of keeping your party standing. When a character calls out to you, match the colour of their speech bubble to the colour of an Art for a bonus effect and a small heal to both you and the person calling out. (Appropriate arts will also pulse on your action palette to allow you to pick a suitable one to use.)
• Set up your own character's Soul Voice to play to your party's strengths. If you're rolling with a group of melee specialists, you're not going to be much help yelling for them to use ranged Arts. Also take the time to customise the four Custom Voice options to suit your play style; there's some really nice effects in there, such as temporarily invincibility if you Sprint for three seconds.
• Hit every Soul Challenge you can. Not only does this trigger a Soul Voice from your character, it also does a significant heal on the whole party. In longer fights against tougher foes, it is essential you hit these, so practice that timing!
• Watch your enemies closely. There are no telegraph markers for most attacks, so you'll need to learn the visual cues to avoid taking too much damage. A helpful indicator is whether the position indicator is flashing red or not; if it is, you're in melee range, and will be hit by melee Arts. You'll hear a buzzer sound when you enter melee range, too, so take a step or two back if you're wielding your ranged weapon at the time.
• Breaking enemy appendages is useful for several reasons. Firstly, the more appendages you break, the more damage the enemy takes. Secondly, certain special attacks are tied to particular appendages. Thirdly, breaking an appendage usually triggers a Soul Voice. Fourthly, breaking specific appendages allows you to acquire specific drops from the enemy related to that appendage.

Exploration

• You're actually fairly mobile even on foot. Sprint when you can, because not only do you move faster, but you also jump significantly higher. This is useful for hopping over obstacles or "mountain goating" up cliff faces.
• Install every probe you can. Every successfully installed probe nets you Miranium and credits income, but also acts as a fast travel location.
• Probe sites shoot a beam of light into the sky to help you find them. If you know you're in the right hex but can't see the beam of light, look up to see if it's on top of a mountain or cliff, and if you still can't see it, it's probably underground in a cave somewhere.nearby.
• When you install a probe, the hexes around it on the Segment View map reveal their main feature. To complete a hex's Sector Recon, you need to complete the objective indicated by the icon. A page icon indicates a mission takes place there (but doesn't necessarily start there); a sparkle icon indicates a specific treasure to be found; a monster icon indicates the Tyrant in that hex must be defeated.
• NPCs with recon info will have a gold smiley face speech bubble icon over their heads. Walk near them to eavesdrop on their conversation and automatically update your map. The hex they referred to will be marked with "New" on the GamePad; tap it once to reveal the details, and it will be marked with a checkmark to show you've read the information but not yet acted on it.
• The world layout isn't like an MMO, with "levelled" zones; instead, each hex on the map has an overall danger level in relation to your character's inner level. Don't be afraid to go into areas with higher level enemies, because sometimes you need to pass through these to get to where you're going. Do take care around enemies with red eye or lightning bolt icons, however; steer clear of them to avoid detection.
• If you see something that looks interesting, go and check it out. It might be a landmark, scenic viewpoint or unexplored area, and these are all worth experience.
• Grab every Collectible you see lying around on your way to a destination. Some are used as quest items; some are crafting materials; some are simply things to put into your Collectopedia. Curators in particular also gain a decent amount of BLADE points per Collectible acquired.

Online

• It's worth playing online if you can, since there are helpful rewards available, including:
  • Division Spoils, which unlock at midnight each day according to the total number of BLADE points each division acquired
  • Squad Tasks, which are shared objectives (usually killing specific enemies or types of enemy) that reward everyone in a Squad with Reward Tickets for completing them
• Reward Tickets can be traded in for a huge variety of material items. If a quest or upgrade is calling for a specific item and you don't feel like killing hundreds of enemies in the hope of a rare drop, see if you can afford it with your Reward Tickets; just use the terminal in the BLADE Barracks to check.
• If you're stuck on something, try sending a Free Report asking for help; someone might have an idea. Free Reports have a very tight character limit, but be as specific as you can, since it may not be obvious where you are or what you're talking about.
• Don't forget to register your character as scoutable at the console in the Administration District. You can also hire other players' characters here, and you can also team up with other players' characters if you come across them in the field. Note that they'll only stick with you for half an hour if you do this, whereas hiring them from the console will keep them with you for 2-4 hours depending on their Scout Level. The former is free, however; the latter can get expensive!
• To encourage other players to scout your character, be sure to customise your Public and Personal greetings as well as your Fashion Gear. Having a distinctive character means people are more likely to pay attention and hopefully hire you.

Think that'll do for now. More tips once I get a bit further and unlock Skells!

The post 2148: Xenoblade X Tips and Tricks appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Pretty much all I've done today is finish off a bit of work I had to do and play Xenoblade Chronicles X, so I'm going to talk a bit more about my experiences with the latter.

If yesterday's entry didn't already make it clear, I love it. It's actually not the kind of RPG I traditionally used to love, so this surprises me; it's open world, it's non-linear, it's nowhere near as story-centric as many other RPGs out there… but it's compelling, addictive and beautiful.

I think one of the things I like most about it is that it feels something like the realisation of a longstanding fantasy. Let me explain.

Way back in secondary school, I was renowned among the teaching staff as someone who put way too much effort into creative writing assignments, usually delivering pages and pages of epic prose where my classmates would put in maybe one or two at most. I can still remember most of these stories I wrote, from early example Timeslip (a riff on Back to the Future, which my friend Daniel was obsessed with, that featured a time-travelling lorry rather than a DeLorean, and what was essentially Rainbow Road from Super Mario Kart to represent the pathways between times) to later pieces such as my A-Level English Language assignment, where I delivered a surprisingly confident but harrowing first-person stream-of-consciousness narrative from the perspective of a girl who was raped.

Anyway. One of the stories I wrote — I forget exactly when, but I do remember writing it — was called Colony. Having somewhat grand plans for what I had written, I had tagged it Chronicles of the Scorpio, Book 1, despite having not even finished the entire story of Colony. That is beside the point; what is important is what Colony was about.

Colony was loosely inspired by a PC CD-ROM game I'd been playing called Alien Legacy. This concerned an interstellar colonisation ship waking up its crew a long way from where they were supposed to be, and the crew and colonists having to make the best of the situation in which they found themselves. Colony featured a similar kind of situation, with the UNS Scorpio finding itself pulled through a wormhole into (if I remember correctly) the Beta Caeli star system, which conveniently had an M-class planet for humanity to plant itself on. The remainder of the story — which I finished — described the colonists' struggle for survival as they discovered they were not entirely alone on this planet, and so on and so on.

To the point, then: the thing I like about Xenoblade Chronicles X is that it feels like I'm exploring that story: one that's been stuck in my head since I was a teenager. I don't think I've ever played a game with such a brilliant sense of exploration, discovery and having to fend for yourself on a very alien world, and Xenoblade Chronicles X's handcrafted setting puts the randomly-generated locales of Minecraft and its ilk to shame by being absolutely fascinating to explore. The experience of surveying planet Mira is exactly how I pictured the characters in Colony spreading out from their initial base camp to discover exactly where they had landed.

There's so much to do, with an excellent sense of constant progression. You can follow the story missions — something that I haven't done much yet so far — or you can make an effort to survey as much of the planet as possible. It's extremely satisfying to take a look at the Segment Map on the GamePad screen and see a number of little checkmarks indicating that you've completed that particular area… but it's also somewhat daunting to see how many other areas don't have little checkmarks in them and realise quite how much there is left to do.

I am fine with this, though. The sheer amount of stuff to do in Xenoblade Chronicles X distinguishes it significantly from MMORPGs, which is what it's getting most frequently compared to: rather than grinding out the same content over and over again in an effort to get an incrementally small reward and creep up in power week by week, you can pretty much always be doing something different and be making progress somehow: you can be levelling up your character, or increasing the rank of your current class, or increasing your rank in the BLADE organisation, or earning money, or gathering resources, or researching weapons for the arms manufacturers, or… you get the idea.

The online seems like fun, too, though I've only dipped my toes into it so far. Taking the form of short, instanced missions for up to four players at once, the Squad Missions feature allows you to play with others and cooperate to take down some tough challenges together. The game is set up in such a way that direct communication isn't necessary, with characters instead using the "Soul Voice" system to automatically shout out things to each other and boosts to your abilities being appropriately applied if you respond correctly to these shouts. It's also possible to communicate through emotes and, if you so desire, the slightly clunky "Free Report" system, which is not quite real-time text chat, but it's testament to the game's solid systems that four strangers can come together and take on some significant challenges without any need for voice or text chat to coordinate things. I wonder if this will still be the case at higher levels? We shall see, but being only level 15 so far, I have a way to go yet!

Anyway. If you've been dithering over whether or not Xenoblade Chronicles X is worth a purchase, stop; it absolutely is. (And, to answer a question from the comments yesterday, no you don't need to play Xenoblade Chronicles first, because they're two completely independent games.) It's one of the most ambitious, impressive RPGs — no, games, full stop — that I've ever played, and it deserves a big, appreciative audience. I'm telling you now, games industry; if this game gets passed over in Game of the Year talk, we are going to have some serious words…

The post 2146: More Xenoblade appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

So, Xenoblade Chronicles X came out today, and I picked up a copy.

Is it any good? Well, after eight hours of play in one day, I think it's fairly safe to say that yes… yes it is.

38 words is not quite enough to articulate why this game is worth your time and attention, however; so I shall attempt to elaborate somewhat. I wrote a little the other day about how much I enjoyed the previous Xenoblade Chronicles game on the Wii, and much of that still applies, though as I suspected from what I'd heard prior to release, Xenoblade Chronicles X is a bit of a different beast to its predecessor.

Let's start from the beginning, then. Xenoblade Chronicles X casts you in the role of a survivor of a spaceship crash on the planet Mira. The game begins with you being rescued from your stasis escape pod and emerging into this strange new world with no recollection of who you are/were. You're surprised to discover that the remnants of humanity have been somewhat busy in the intervening two months between the ship crashing and your rescue, but you quickly adjust to life in New Los Angeles, a city constructed from the wreckage of your former ship's habitation module.

In those two months, it seems said remnants of humanity have organised themselves in what appears to be a fairly efficient manner. Of chief importance to the building of humanity's new life on Mira is the organisation known as BLADE, which stands for Building a Legacy After the Destruction of Earth, but which everyone just calls Blade, because that's cooler.

BLADE is responsible for most of the day-to-day running of life on Mira for humanity. Its employees go out and explore the world, gather materials, keep the more feisty members of the local fauna in check, deploy probes and set up resource infrastructures. It doesn't take long for you to be inducted into the ranks of this group, and before long you're swearing allegiance to one of the "Divisions", which determines the most efficient means you have of ranking up within the BLADE organisation, though regardless of your allegiance you're free to pursue any activities you see fit.

Once you step outside New LA onto Mira proper, there's plenty to do. Like the previous Xenoblade game, the world is strewn with collectables that can be put into the Collectapedia; there are plenty of enemies to fight of all shapes and sizes — with the biggest being some of the biggest… things I've seen in any video game ever, including Shadow of the Colossus — and there's a ton of exploration to be done. By wandering around, you'll discover landmarks, sightseeing spots, unexplored areas such as caves and ruins, places to install mining equipment and all manner of other things.

When you get into combat, you're presented with a system somewhat like the previous game's, but with a number of refinements. Of chief importance is the "Soul Voice" system, whereby party members can chain attacks together by shouting things out during battle based on various trigger conditions. By using the appropriate Arts when your companions yell out the relevant things (which are colour-coded to make things easier for you) you can achieve various helpful bonuses and special effects. Likewise, when you perform a particular ability and then hit the B button at just the right time, you can encourage your allies to trigger a Soul Voice in the same way. Combat feels fluid and interesting, and the fact you can switch between ranged and melee weapons at will means you can tweak your playstyle how you see fit — a fact that is further compounded by the array of different character classes on offer, which you're free to switch between whenever you like.

There's also some online functionality that is pretty interesting. After clearing the third chapter of the main story, you sign up for a "Squad", which is an online group of up to 32 players. Once you're in a Squad, you receive notifications about their achievements and gain the ability to make "reports" about things that go on around the world, things you've done or simply to chat. You can trade things with other players, too, and there are communal Squad objectives to complete collectively as a group.

For those who want to take things a step further, there's a full multiplayer mode where you can take on Squad Missions together in parties of up to four people. These tend to be short, timed missions where you have to achieve specific objectives such as defeating enemies, but playing alongside other people and chaining your Soul Voice effects into each other has a markedly different feel from playing with the AI characters. It's also a good opportunity to admire other players' custom avatars, since the game features a vanity system whereby you can wear one set of gear for its stats, then apply the appearance of a different set for your own custom outfit.

Xenoblade Chronicles X is a game that appears to be incredibly daunting in its scope, with numerous intertwining game systems that, after the initial few story chapters, it leaves for you to explore for yourself rather than guiding you through by the hand. The electronic manual is essential reading, since not everything in the game is explained in tutorials, and there are a few bits and pieces that will doubtless prove bewildering without explanation.

So far I've had an absolute blast, though. The environments are spectacular, the creatures are weird, wonderful and gigantic, the combat is fun, the story is enjoyable, the characters are pleasant to hang around with, and the setting is well-crafted with a pleasing sense of coherence to the whole thing.

In short, it's pretty gobsmacking, not only as a game in its own right, but in how much of an improvement over its predecessor it is, too. And it's doubly impressive for being quite this spectacular on the Wii U, by far the least powerful of the current generation of consoles. Frankly, if this game doesn't shift a few Wii U systems, nothing will, because I find it hard to believe anything more impressive will be squeezed out of Nintendo's hardware.

The post 2145: Xenoblade Chronicles X First Impressions appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I'm picking up a brand new game release on Friday. It's not often I buy a new game the moment it's released, but in the case of Xenoblade Chronicles X, I feel almost obliged to, given that it's not only a game that's been a long time coming, but also a game that's likely to be one of the most impressive titles for Nintendo's underappreciated Wii U console — much like its predecessor was for the original Wii.

I don't know a lot about Xenoblade Chronicles X as yet save for the fact it's a bit of a departure from the style of the previous game; I've been deliberately avoiding too much coverage of it because it's one of those titles for which I'm keen to go in almost completely blind, much as I did with Xenoblade Chronicles. I can, however, talk a little bit about my memories of Xenoblade Chronicles, and why they lead me to anticipate Xenoblade Chronicles X quite so much.

I'm not massively familiar with the overall Xeno metaseries. I played Xenogears back when it was originally released on PS1 and enjoyed it a lot, despite its rushed second disc. To date, I know nothing at all about the Xenosaga series, and my next contact with the overall Xeno quasi-franchise was Xenoblade Chronicles on Wii. Again, I came to this knowing almost nothing about it save for the fact it was one of three games for the Wii that a pressure group known as "Operation Rainfall" had been encouraging Nintendo to bring to the West, the others being The Last Story from original Final Fantasy creator Hironobu Sakaguchi, and the unconventional, wonderful Pandora's Tower from Ganbarion.

In other words, I picked up Xenoblade Chronicles based entirely on hearsay — people whose opinion I respected said that it was an important release, and that as someone who enjoyed JRPGs, I would do well to check it out. It was also noteworthy in that it actually made it to Europe before North America, which is not something that tends to happen all that often with localisations, and its dub featured English, rather than American, voiceovers — a fact which gave it a considerable degree of charm as well as inadvertently creating a number of memes that persist to this day, including "I'm Really Feeling It" and "Now it's Reyn Time", the former of which was helped enormously by protagonist Shulk's inclusion in the Wii U version of Super Smash Bros.

Anyway. Booting up Xenoblade Chronicles for the first time, I was confronted by a JRPG experience quite unlike any other JRPG I'd played to date. Well, that's not quite true; it was a bit like Final Fantasy XII in many ways, but it definitely had its own unique identity that combined influences from traditional, story-heavy Japanese role-playing games; open-world, mechanics-centric Western role-playing games; and the sheer, daunting amount of content found in your typical massively multiplayer online RPG.

Of particular note was its combat system, which is the main aspect that Xenoblade Chronicles X carries across from its predecessor. Allowing you to take direct control of any of your current three party members, gameplay changed significantly according to how you chose to play each character. Each party member had a fairly obvious "role" in the party that they were supposed to play, but there was a decent amount of customisation between learning new Arts and Skills for them, as well as the limited number of Arts the characters could have equipped (and, thus, usable) at any given moment.

Combat was much more than simple hack-and-slash; in fact, simply running up to an enemy and hoping to whittle down its health was an invitation to disaster, even early in the game. Instead, you needed to know your characters' abilities, including positional bonuses, and make appropriate use of them at the right times. This is where MMO influences showed themselves once again; since you were only controlling a single character, you had to trust that your AI-controlled companions were up to the task of doing their job — which, to their credit, they usually were — while you concentrated on doing yours.

I typically played as Shulk for most of the game; Shulk, in party-based MMO terms, would have been a melee DPS class somewhat akin to a rogue, dragoon or monk in Final Fantasy XIV. In other words, his abilities were largely focused on both dealing damage and inflicting debuffs on enemies, and many of them were conditional on him being in a particular position in relation to the enemy. One of his Arts required him to hit an enemy from behind, for example, while another had bonus effects when used from the side. Mechanics such as this kept combat dynamic and interesting rather than simply having two groups hacking away at each other until one or the other's HP ran out.

Then there was the world. Oh, goodness, the world. Xenoblade Chronicles was running on one of the weakest consoles of that particular generation, but it managed to be one of the most impressive games there was in terms of scope and visual design. Unfolding on the overgrown, long-dormant bodies of two mysterious giant mech-type things known as the Bionis and the Mechonis, Xenoblade Chronicles' world combined the realistically natural with the fantastic to create an absolutely beautiful, memorable world with some genuine landmarks that were worth seeking out just to admire the visual majesty of. I still remember vividly the first time I came across Makna Falls and had to stop and just admire this beautifully crafted environment for a few moments; it was somewhere I'd want to actually go in reality, such was its beauty.

To reiterate an earlier point, I know very little about Xenoblade Chronicles X, and that includes details about its world. If it's half as interesting and thrilling to explore as its predecessor, though, I'm excited to jump in and start running around… and later, to start stomping around it in the big mech-like Skells.

Xenoblade Chronicles X is out on Friday. There are online and multiplayer features in the game, so if you're planning on playing it and would like to do stuff with me, let me know and we can exchange Wii U friend details.

The post 2143: Anticipating Xenoblade appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I've played about twelve hours or so of Dungeon Travelers 2 so far, and despite my relative inexperience with the genre, I'm inclined to agree with those people who describe it as one of the best dungeon crawlers on the Vita. The really exciting thing about it is that I know I haven't seen everything the game has to offer, and that it's gradually increasing in depth and complexity as I progress.

This is a good structure: it keeps a challenging game accessible and easy to understand, and allows the player to spread their wings a bit as they become more confident with the various systems.

A case in point is the party formation and progression systems, which gradually introduce you to core concepts of the game a little bit at a time, then present you with more and more unusual cases, then open up progression a bit, then a lot, then give you more party members, and so on.

You start the game with just two characters: a Fighter (tank) and Magic User (damage dealer/healer). Shortly afterwards you're joined by a Spieler (essentially a damage dealer, but with many skills relying on RNG), then later by a Maid (a support class that doesn't use "TP" to power her skills) and a Scout (a high-speed damage dealer that can either be a melee or ranged combatant).

Once each of these characters hits level 15, they can move up a tier of classes, with each class splitting into two or three alternatives, then each of those splitting into another two possibilities further down the levelling track. Fighter can become either Paladin (damage-soaking tank) or Berserker (damage-dealing tank), for example; Magic User can become a Sorceress (straight damage dealer), Enchantress (buffer) or Priestess (healer). The interesting thing is that changing class in this way doesn't prevent you from accessing the skill tree of the old class; it simply adds a new skill tree, offering you more choices to spend your skill points on with each level up. In this way, you can customise each character significantly — and, importantly, there's the opportunity to undo things if you made a mistake, though this does involve resetting their level to one of the significant milestones (level 1, level 15 and so forth) and levelling them again.

I like this approach; it's a little different from the Demon Gaze/Etrian Odyssey approach of allowing you to create your own party completely, because it means that you're eased into the game's systems with a proven, workable party lineup that you get more and more freedom to play with as the game progresses. The drip-feed of new characters into your party is entirely deliberate, too; in total, there are 16 different playable characters in the game, but rather than overwhelming you with endless possibilities from the outset, you're introduced to these characters and their classes one at a time, giving you the opportunity to get a feel for how they work in a party situation, then by the end of the game you'll have a complete lineup of available characters to pick and choose for your active party as you see fit. Given the apparent complexity of the game's systems, this seems like an eminently sensible way to do things, striking a good balance between accessibility for genre newcomers and flexibility for veterans. True dungeon crawler vets will doubtless be most interested in the "endgame" dungeons, anyway, by which point any frustration they might have felt at the artificial limitations imposed on them in the early game will have been removed entirely.

So the systems are good, then — at least, they certainly appear to be from my experience thus far. What I've been pleasantly surprised to see alongside these solid mechanics is some decent writing, story and characterisation. Dungeon crawlers are often designed in such a way that the story just sort of happens with or without the player character(s) having an active role in the unfolding narrative, but Dungeon Travelers 2 makes a point of making each and every party member — including your protagonist — into a human being rather than a set of stats and abilities. This is achieved in a variety of ways: interactions and conversations in the story scenes between dungeon missions; one-liner comments as you explore the dungeons; and "sub-events" that are triggered by the actions you've taken in the dungeon and in battle. This latter aspect is particularly impressive; there are sub-events for a wide variety of different situations and events, ranging from equipping a particular item to a character getting knocked out in battle, and as well as being entertaining and amusing, they can also help you figure out things about the game systems for yourself. When Melvy the Magic User complains that her spells were being interrupted by heavy hits, for example, you then become aware that you, too, can interrupt enemy spells if you hit them hard enough — and that you need to shield Melvy from attack when she's chanting.

The other good thing about this part of the game is that it gives a strong sense that the game world is bigger than the part of it that you see. As the name suggests, Dungeon Travelers 2 unfolds almost entirely in dungeons, with story scenes confined to menu screens and visual novel-style talking head segments. Despite the lack of an "overworld" and "towns" to explore, you get a very clear sense that the writers have thought about the game's overall context, including off-screen characters, how society works, events that occurred prior to (and during) the game's narrative and relationships between characters. You see all this through the eyes of just one individual, but there's a strong feeling that you're part of a much bigger world, even if you won't see most of it in the game itself. This is good; it gives your actions in the game context and meaning, and helps provide some impetus to keep pushing forwards. It's no good being told to save the realm if you don't know anything about the realm in question, after all.

As you can tell, then, I'm having a real blast with the game so far. After my initial embarrassing death in just my third fight, the game hasn't kicked my ass too severely, though it is pretty good at sending clear signals that Now Would Probably Be A Good Time to End This Expedition and Go Back to Town, usually by flattening one or more party members unexpectedly. It never feels cheap, though; any and all character KO's are usually the result of overextending yourself and getting a bit ambitious, and as I recall from my tentative first steps into Demon Gaze, dungeon crawlers are all about being cautious as well as killing things and taking their stuff.

I've no idea how long the game is or indeed how large the dungeons get. I'm hoping this is a game that's going to last me a while, though; I have every intention of trying to see everything it has to offer.

The post 2099: Further Travels in the Dungeons appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Dungeon Travelers 2 came out on PlayStation Vita yesterday. To say I've been eagerly anticipating this game is something of an understatement; I've been deliberately holding off playing anything else "big" until it came out, because I was keen to be able to devote some time to it. And, after a good few hours with it today, I'm not at all disappointed with my decision to do so.

For the unfamiliar, Dungeon Travelers 2 is a first-person perspective dungeon crawler RPG (of the Wizardry mould that Japan loves so) created as a collaborative effort between visual novel producers Aquaplus, weird-but-cool RPG specialists Sting and That Company People Mostly Know The Name Of Because of Persona, Atlus. It has a somewhat convoluted history: its Japan-only predecessor Dungeon Travelers was a fleshed-out remake of a dungeon crawler that was part of a fandisc for Aquaplus' visual novel ToHeart 2, though Dungeon Travelers 2 itself doesn't have anything to do with either the first game or ToHeart 2, simply sharing some aesthetic sensibilities and mechanics.

Dungeon Travelers 2 shot to notoriety a few months back when Polygon's Phil Kollar berated publisher Atlus for localising the game, which he referred to as a "creepy, porn-lite dungeon crawler". I responded in some detail to Kollar's nonsense back when he first blurted it out over at MoeGamer; take a look. Ironically, Kollar's condemnation of the game actually made a lot of people — me included — who had never heard of it before aware of its existence, and I can't help feeling that the game has been a bigger success than it probably would have been if he'd just kept his mouth shut. In that sense, I'm not complaining; it's just a little frustrating to know that he almost certainly won't have given it any time and attention since that initial piece, having written it off as the usual pervy nonsense.

Dungeon Travelers 2 is an ecchi game, though, make no mistake, if you hadn't already noticed from the artwork that peppers this post; within five minutes of starting the first dungeon, you're presented with a rather fetching view of one of the heroines' panties-clad buttocks, and every boss fight is followed by some rather beautifully drawn artwork of said boss in a somewhat disheveled, suggestive state. Not only that, but the vast majority of enemies are scantily clad cute female characters (the rest are, inexplicably, sentient fruit) that draw a certain degree of inspiration from the popular "monster girl" aesthetic, albeit in a less overt way than something like the anime Monster Musume.

Here's the thing, though; the ecchi content of Dungeon Travelers 2 works because, like other games that fully embrace their ecchi (or even hentai) side, it's consistent in its use and it thus becomes part of the overall aesthetic. It's a sexy game; it's not about sex as such, mind you, but beautiful girls in sexy poses are very much part of the way it looks, and it is not at all ashamed of that fact. In order to fully enjoy it, you absolutely can't be ashamed of it, either.

But the ecchi content is the least interesting thing to talk about when it comes to Dungeon Travelers 2, because it's a really solid game with some interesting mechanics. Of particular note is the game's approach to teaching you how to play; the electronic manual provided with the software gives you only a bare-bones outline of the interface, but through a combination of in-game lectures (delivered by the deliciously sarcastic Maid-Sensei) and in-context, in-character sub-events that are triggered by your various actions in the dungeon and in battle, the game teaches you how to play and things to watch out for without resorting to insulting your intelligence. Maid-Sensei's lectures are the nearest thing to an outright tutorial, but those are skippable; the sub-events, meanwhile, are short, snappy, humorous and get their point across without being dull.

There are some interesting systems at play. The concept of the game revolves around "Libras", who are individuals that are able to seal away monsters in books. The protagonist character is one of these Libras, but he doesn't take an active role in battle; instead, the game is presented as you, playing the role of Fried the Libra, issuing orders to your gradually expanding party of pretty girl bodyguards and performing the important task of sealing away the monsters when they've been defeated.

It doesn't stop there, though; the Libra concept is a core system of the game. By defeating enough monsters, you can create "Sealbooks" which have two main functions: firstly, they represent the fact that you have researched the monster sufficiently to understand their behaviour and characteristics, depicted in game as revealing their full stats, and secondly, they can be used as a piece of equipment, with each individual monster's Sealbook having a different special effect. Thanks to a "completion percentage" figure in the game, there's a definite element of "gotta catch 'em all" going on that I anticipate is going to cause me some issues in the future.

Alongside this is a detailed class system for all your party members, with each character able to level up a number of different classes and learn skills using earned skill points. It's possible to build and specialise characters in a variety of different ways, and the early game introduces you to a selection of interesting classes, beginning with a fairly straightforward tank and DPS combo — pleasingly, the tank class is able to provoke enemies and increase the likelihood that they'll be hit in favour of squishy mages — before giving you the peculiar "Spieler" class, which so far appears to be heavily based on luck and random chance, and the "Maid" class, which plays a supportive role that is very distinct from a dedicated healer by buffing and allowing characters to restore the points they use on skills as well as their all-important HP.

I'm not particularly deep into the game as yet, so the dungeons haven't got especially complicated so far. There have already been some challenging fights, though, and the game is not afraid to slap you about a bit until you remember that you have to play dungeon crawlers a little differently to more conventional RPGs. I got a Game Over in the third fight I had in the whole game, for example, because I overextended myself and forgot that it's perfectly acceptable in this type of game to advance a bit then run screaming for the exit to lick your wounds and restock; compare and contrast to your more typical JRPG, meanwhile, in which you tend to always be moving forwards rather than backtracking or making multiple expeditions.

In fact, what Dungeon Travelers 2 reminded me of, of all things, is a board game of the Advanced Heroquest ilk. The basic structure is the same: get overarching quest, go into dungeon, come back out if things get hairy, go back in, find treasure, go back out, resupply, go back in, fight a bit further… and so on. The "multiple expeditions" nature of exploration in the game is inherently satisfying, since you can easily see on the convenient automap when you're making progress, because you'll be revealing new areas. Discovering new monsters is enjoyable, too, since they're all depicted with some truly lovely artwork, and the juxtaposition between the "pretty girl" monsters and the "sentient fruit" monsters is bizarre and hilarious.

I'm enjoying it a great deal so far, then, and I'm looking forward to spending a lot of time with it. I'm a relative newbie to the dungeon crawler subgenre of RPGs as a whole, but between Demon Gaze (which was my first real hardcore dungeon-crawling experience) and what I've experienced of this so far, I'm very much a believer already.

To the dungeons, then, where pretty girls await!

The post 2097: Dungeon Travelers 2: Some Initial Impressions appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I'm really disappointed to hear of the number of NeoGAF bans that have resulted from the article I mentioned yesterday. (Still not going to link to it.) Quite a few friends — and quite a few new acquaintances — all found themselves banned simply for expressing dissent or dissatisfaction with the article, often in a polite manner. And no, that's not just excuse-making — they really were polite about it. More polite than I was yesterday, anyway.

I've never been a member of NeoGAF. Not through lack of trying, though every time I have tried, my email address hasn't been "good enough" for them to allow me in, whatever the hell that means. In one particular instance, it took nearly two years for my "application" to be rejected; I didn't try again after that.

NeoGAF is regarded by many as the de facto gaming community online. It's where all the game journalists from the mainstream publications hang out, it's where game developers and publishers hang out — in short, it's a huge, centralised place to talk about games. Or at least, it should be: in the last few years, however, there's been an increasingly tight leash put on exactly what is and is not acceptable to talk about there — and, relevant to what we've been talking about, a lot of the stuff that is outright banned from discussion falls under the Japanese gaming umbrella.

Trouble is, from what I can tell as an outsider to the overall community, there is pretty much no rhyme or reason to what is and is not acceptable. Senran Kagura is acceptable, it seems — or, at least, it was; a significant number of participants in the long, active Senran Kagura thread got banned as part of this latest nonsense — but something like Criminal Girls is not. Japanese games are the only games that appear to be subject to this much scrutiny; big Western games are discussed without any issues whatsoever, regardless of if they have any sexual or violent content in them.

I don't want to dwell too much on NeoGAF because, as I've already said, I'm not a member there and so cannot comment with authority from the perspective of an actual community member. What I do want to talk about, however, is the broader problem that NeoGAF's situation and yesterday's debacle really highlights: the fact that it's deliberately (and, I'd argue, maliciously) creating a divide between different "strata" of people who enjoy video games. In other words, if you like one of the "approved" games, you're absolutely fine; you can continue discussing games and gaming culture as much as you like. But if you like one of the "forbidden" games — regardless of the fact that these games are not illegal, are not banned and are sold at retail — then your opinion is, it seems, automatically invalid; you're not welcome to discuss it in the Internet's equivalent of "polite society" and are instead forced underground to find cliques and subcultures who will accept you for your tastes, rather than everyone being in a happy melting pot respectfully exchanging opinions and learning from one another.

As I've argued before both here and over on MoeGamer, this situation does a lot of creative works an enormous disservice. In my last ever JPgamer column at USgamer, I commented on the fact that a lot of the games that are habitually branded as "creepy" (or worse) by mainstream critics actually tick a considerable number of the boxes that these people tend to want to see as evidence that gaming is "growing up".

Female protagonists? Or at least women in important positions with regard to the narrative? Sure; check out the Neptunia series, Omega Quintet, Criminal Girls, the Agarest series, Akiba's Trip, Monster Monpiece, Moe Chronicle, Demon Gaze, Dungeon Travelers 2.

Unconventional storyline that isn't simply "solve all your problems by punching/shooting/swording them to death"? Sure! Check out the Atelier series, Recettear, the Ar Tonelico series and plenty more.

Ambitious narrative themes? Sure! Take a look at The Witch and the Hundred Knight (coming soon to PS4!), Time and Eternity, Senran Kagura, Criminal Girls, Ar Tonelico…

You get the idea: these games don't get anywhere near enough credit and are, more often than not, either ignored or derided by people purely on the grounds that they're open and up-front about — in most, not all cases — wanting to indulge in a bit of light-hearted, cheeky teasing as part of their overall aesthetic. In some cases, the ecchi content is even used genuinely effectively to depict the growing relationship between characters; Time and Eternity and Demon Gaze were both particularly good in this regard, reflecting the protagonist's sexual frustration and the growing relationship of trust and love between the player character and their main quest-giving "contact" Fran respectively.

Now, as Brad Gallaway wrote in his absolutely exemplary review of Dungeon Travelers 2, "people who are allergic to skin-heavy content might have a hard time getting past it to enjoy the game underneath. And honestly, that's all right. I've always said that not every game is right for every person, so bouncing off of Dungeon Travelers 2 for that reason alone would be totally understandable." This is the point that appears to be most frequently missed: games are not always for everyone. Sure, there are plenty of box-ticking focus-grouped triple-A games out there that are designed to appeal to the broadest possible demographic: they have to, because they cost an absolute fortune to make, so they'd better sell through multiple millions of copies to prove all the developers' hard work wasn't for naught.

But here's the important thing: not every game is like that, nor should it be. Games with ecchi content are designed for a specific audience — and that audience cannot simply be defined or written off as "horny teenage boys", as it usually is, though they are certainly part of it. In reality, the market for otaku games is male and female; young and old; straight and gay; trans and cis; and made up of pretty much each and every race, nationality and religion. The one thing they have in common? They like what they like. Simple as that. And these games are designed to push their buttons without caring what people outside that existing niche think of them. And that's absolutely fine.

Tastes in art are complex, fluid, ever-changing, and one person can be into lots of things. You can enjoy high-class art and the most lowbrow of entertainment, and I know plenty of people who do. Likewise, you can also choose to enjoy just high-class art or just the most lowbrow of entertainment, or something middle-of-the-road. In the world of games, you can be someone who plays every "walking simulator" out there and believes they're the future of interactive entertainment. You can be like my Dad, and only ever play Microsoft Flight Simulator. You can play nothing but hidden object adventure games. You can be someone who just plays Call of Duty with their friends on weeknights. You can be someone who has invested a thousand or more hours into Dota 2. Or you can be someone who enjoys games where anime girls have breasts and flash their panties.

Or — and here's how you get the richest possible experience from one of the most exciting and complex forms of creative media in the world in 2015 — you can be into multiple things, and you can be open to new experiences. You don't have to like everything, and you almost certainly won't. That's all absolutely, completely and utterly fine; the diversity in tastes is one of the best things about modern gaming, and the fact that month after month, all manner of different tastes are specifically catered to by developers and publishers is absolutely brilliant.

What's emphatically Not Okay by any stretch of the imagination is, as we've already said, shaming people for what they are into, regardless of what it is. Don't like anime panties? Fine. Don't throw horrible names at people who do. Don't like Gone Home? Also fine; likewise, don't throw horrible names at people who do. Don't like Call of Duty? Also fine… you get the idea, no? To sum up: don't be a total cunt.

A little respect goes a very long way. And gaming culture as a whole is not remembering that fact right now, and it saddens me greatly. Let's all try and do our bit to make our wonderful medium a little bit better for everyone, shall we?

The post 2041: A Little Respect Goes a Long Way appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Sword Art Online, for those not into the animes, was a popular show a couple of years back. It was one of those "mainstream" shows that became really popular and which everyone subsequently decided they hated for one reason or another. I never quite understood the hate; sure, it was cheesy as fuck in places, but it was an enjoyable, beautifully presented show with an amazing soundtrack and a concept I've always loved ever since I played .hack for the first time: the MMO that is trying to kill you.

The Sword Art Online anime concerns Kirito, a protagonist who is a blatant self-insert for the writer, but I won't hold that against anyone, since self-inserts can be a wonderful means of escapism. Kirito becomes trapped in the new virtual reality MMO Sword Art Online after the game launches out of beta and the "logout" button is removed by its designer, capturing all 10,000 launch day players in the virtual world. To make matters worse, said designer — the villain of the piece — informs the players of a little tweak to the rules of the game: if they are forcibly removed from their VR equipment, or if they run out of HP and "die" in the game, then their VR equipment will fry their brain with microwaves, killing them instantly.

There's a get-out clause, though; if the game is cleared by someone defeating the final boss on the 100th "floor", everyone who survived will be allowed to escape. After two years of the game, it becomes apparent that this goal is still a long way off, and player numbers are dwindling as more and more people either fall victim to carelessness or despair along the way. Ultimately, the first arc of the anime concludes with Kirito and his friends defeating Sword Art Online's designer and freeing themselves from the virtual world of Aincrad, only to find themselves in numerous subsequent adventures in other virtual worlds. You'd think they'd learn.

Hollow Fragment, meanwhile, takes place in a reality where Kirito's defeat of Heathcliff at the end of the first arc was not the end of Sword Art Online, and the players find themselves still trapped within the game. Moreover, they discover that once they pass the 75th floor — the floor where Kirito defeated Heathcliff — they are unable to return to the lower floors, and many of their skills and items become "corrupted", mere shadows of their former selves. The game, then, continues; it looks as if the only way to escape really will be to defeat the boss on the 100th floor.

Except that's not all, because clearing out 25 floors of dungeon would be far too easy a task. In the opening of the game, Kirito finds himself transported to the "Hollow Area", an unexplored part of the Sword Art Online world where strange things happen and rare, high-level monsters and items abound. Acting as a sort of "testing area", the Hollow Area allows Kirito to uncover a number of mysteries surrounding the virtual world of Aincrad as well as beef up his own character's power significantly through various research trees. The flow of the game then becomes a journey back and forth between three distinct components, then: Aincrad, the Hollow Area, and what I like to refer to as Waifutown.

Aincrad is pretty straightforward. Upon arriving on a new floor, you're shown a big tower off in the distance and informed the boss is waiting for you at the top of it. Between you and said tower are several overworld areas populated by enemies, so you'll need to fight your way up to the boss room in order to challenge it. Along the way you'll also need to gather intelligence on the boss by completing quests and defeating specific named monsters (NMs) as well as helping your fellow "players" to level up enough to take on the challenges ahead. Each "floor" is pretty linear in its design, though the dungeon at the end of it is more maze-like and unfolds across several levels, and you'll be doing a fair amount of backtracking to complete quests.

The Hollow Area works a little differently. Rather than a linear sequence of areas leading to a dungeon maze, the Hollow Area is an interconnected network of zones more akin to a regular RPG or even MMO map. The Hollow Area is split into several different regions, each of which you'll need to build up points in by completing "Hollow Missions" that appear and disappear in real-time as you play. While completing Hollow Missions, you can take on research tasks, which give you specific objectives to complete; once these are completed, you can then implement the research into Kirito's character to improve it. You have to content with bosses here, too, though in the Hollow Area they guard region transitions rather than separate floors.

Waifutown, meanwhile, is what you do when you're not adventuring. The town on the 76th floor that acts as your adventuring home base is home to most of the characters who got their own episode in the original Sword Art Online anime arc, along with a couple from the later arcs (Leafa and Sinon) who have been shoehorned in for the sake of having a few more waifus to pursue. In town, you can shop, upgrade weapons and hang out with your fellow adventurers. This latter aspect is important; by hanging out with your prospective adventuring partners, you can increase your relationship with them (up to and including sleeping with them) which subsequently helps them perform better in battle. By building up your relationship as well as "training" their AI by praising it when it does well, you can tailor each of the companion characters to your own liking. Or you can pick a waifu and spend the whole game with them if you so desire.

Sword Art Online is an enormous and surprisingly complex game. There are a lot of different systems at play — it's going all-out with the "simulated MMO" aspect in this regard — and, while it's daunting to begin with, the many different ways in which it's possible to progress in the game make it feel like you're always achieving something, and that there's always a choice of things to do at any given moment. While its graphics look like butt outside of the beautiful 2D artwork — its PSP roots are very apparent — it really doesn't matter all that much; it plays satisfyingly well, feeling quite like a high-speed Phantasy Star Online at times, and there's a wonderful, constant sense of discovery and exploration as you work your way around this strange and wonderful virtual world. (And yes, I'll probably make a video about this at some point so you can actually see how it plays.)

Also you can bed Lisbeth. 10/10

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In this case, my good friend Dan Lipscombe enquired as to whether I could give him any Vita RPG recommendations.

Well, of course I can!

Here goes, then. Some Vita RPGs that are either well-regarded or that I have personally enjoyed. This isn't an exhaustive list by any means!

Persona 4 Golden

This is the one everyone recommends, and with good reason; it's great. Even if you played the original Persona 4 on PlayStation 2, Golden is worth playing due to its amount of additional content and tweaked gameplay.

If you're unfamiliar with Persona 4, it's a combination of murder mystery, school life simulator, dungeon crawler and Pokemon. Taking on the role of a transfer student to a school out in the sticks of Japan, you start investigating a spate of strange murders that sees people disappearing then showing up a few days later hung upside down from television aerials. It's up to you and your school friends to discover the truth behind what is going on, which is far stranger than you might expect.

Persona 4 Golden is an excellent game that has transcended its originally niche appeal to become a truly mainstream title that most people have heard of by now. It's well worth playing through to completion — though be warned, it is long. Like, 80+ hours long, even if you don't do much of the optional side content. It's a journey well worth taking, though, and the lengthy slog makes the characters' personal journeys all that more meaningful.

Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth

There are three Hyperdimension Neptunia Re;Birth games on Vita. There's no real requirement to play them in order, since they're self-contained stories that don't really have anything to do with each other, but playing them in order will give you a better understanding of the characters — plus an appreciation for how the series has continually grown, developed and changed for the better over time.

Neptunia's concept is based on anthropomorphised game consoles going about their business in the land of Gamindustri. The three games' stories veer off in different directions, but there are usually strong anti-piracy messages involved, along with commentary on not forgetting the past, the futility of fanboyism and general satire of both games industry and anime culture.

The Neptunia games are occasionally clunky, sometimes balanced questionably and not the most technically impressive games you will ever see — but my God, are they ever charming and delightful, not to mention rare examples of comedy and satire in games actually working well.

Hyperdevotion Noire

A spinoff of the main Neptunia series, Hyperdevotion Noire focuses on PlayStation personification Noire and gives the tsundere princess her own personal story. Unlike the regular Neptunia series, Noire is a strategy RPG a la Fire Emblem and Final Fantasy Tactics. A wide cast of characters, each of whom personify a well-known Japanese game series (such as Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest and Resident Evil) all have unique abilities, strengths and weaknesses, and "gimmicks" in each stage force you to think a lot more strategically than "charge at the enemy and cut them down in order".

I'm not normally very good at strategy RPGs, but Noire is accessible, fun and enjoyable — plus it continues the series tradition of good humour, charm and satire, and Noire is absolutely a strong enough character to carry her own game.

Demon Gaze

If you liked old-school dungeon-crawlers on PC — I'm talking stuff like Wizardry, Lands of Lore and Might & Magic — then you might want to give Demon Gaze a shot. Creating your own custom party of adventurers, you venture forth into an array of dungeons to battle terrible demons, capture them and make use of their power.

In between your adventures, there's a delightful little soap opera going on in the inn that you and your party call your home, with a cast of colourful characters getting up to all manner of mischief. It's a lovely blend of the narrative-centric approach that more conventional Japanese RPGs tend to take, and the mechanics-centric, challenge-heavy nature of first-person "gridder" dungeon crawlers. It also has absolutely gorgeous artwork, and an unconventional but enormously catchy soundtrack that makes use of Vocaloid voice synthesisers.

Operation Abyss

I haven't actually played this one yet, but it's on my shelf; given that it's from the same folks who made Demon Gaze, though, it's a fair bet that it will be similarly good, and the people I know who have played it have enjoyed it a whole lot.

Trails in the Sky

Technically a PSP game, this is downloadable and playable on Vita, and well worth your time. Following the adventures of Estelle and her adoptive brother Joshua as they attempt to become full-fledged "Bracers" — essentially state-supported mercenaries — Trails in the Sky is a sprawling adventure with a beautifully crafted world, some wonderful writing and a fun battle system.

The game blends the sidequest-centric nature of Western RPGs with the more linear storytelling typically found in Japanese RPGs to great effect. The sidequests each have their own little stories and characters to explore, and really help the world to feel truly alive.

Criminal Girls

This one won't be for everyone due to its relatively explicit sexuality, particularly exploration of sadomasochistic themes. If you can deal with that sort of content, though — along with the fact it's very obviously a PSP port — Criminal Girls tells a fascinating tale of personal redemption for a colourful cast of characters as they come to terms with traumatic experiences from their past and attempt to move beyond them.

Criminal Girls is noteworthy for its exploration of "trust" through both its narrative and its mechanics — I wrote in more detail on this topic here.

Akiba's Trip

Not an RPG in the typical sense, Akiba's Trip is most akin to Sega's Yakuza series in that it provides an open world that covers a relatively small geographical area — in this case, Tokyo's Akihabara district — and a ton of things to do, plus a nigh-unparalleled sense of atmosphere thanks to its detailed world.

Thrown into the underworld by your discovery of — and recruitment into — the ranks of the "Synthisters" (essentially synthetic vampires), it's your job to find out where this scourge has come from and put a stop to it — while simultaneously keeping your little sister happy, taking photos for tourists and attempting to end up in the arms of one of the game's lovely leading ladies.

Akiba's Trip has fun brawler-style combat with a huge selection of upgradeable weapons ranging from baseball bats to bus stop signs and computer monitors. Combat involves smacking Synthisters around a bit until they're in a position where you can grab their clothes and rip them off them, which exposes them to sunlight and, in true vampire tradition, causes them to combust.

Steins;Gate

This isn't an RPG at all, but if you own a Vita (or PS3… or PC) and haven't read this extraordinary visual novel, you need to right now. Blending real-world urban myths (such as the legend of John Titor and questions of what CERN are really up to with that big underground particle accelerator) with a creative yet plausible interpretation of how time travel and parallel worlds might work, Steins;Gate follow the adventures of an impressively unreliable narrator as he tries his best to stop something horrible happening to someone he cares about.

Here's a full review of it.

There are tons more great RPGs and visual novels available on Vita, but I've rambled on for over 1,200 words now, so that should be enough to get you started. Hope you enjoy at least some of these!

The post 2005: Dan's List of Vita RPGs appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

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.

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Anyway. I don't want to dwell on how long this game is — I could have been done long ago, since I've technically already "cleared" it once and I'm doing all of the optional side quests — but rather on something that I noticed as I was playing today: after nearly 100 hours, I'm still spotting new things about the mechanics and working out ways to leverage them to my advantage.

Compile Heart games are often quite mechanically interesting. The original Hyperdimension Neptunia, for example, featured a combat system in which I spent hours assembling combo attacks that would neatly chain into one another, swap out characters mid-combo and do all sorts of other cool things. The later Neptunia games took a different approach to battle, with freedom of movement, area-of-effect attacks and different types of strike. Hyperdevotion Noire is a solid strategy RPG with easy to understand but tricky to master mechanics involving elemental affinities, range, height and areas of effect. Moe Chronicle — my copy of which arrived today, hooray! — sees you equipping stereotypically moe traits onto a range of monster girls to give them various special abilities. And there are a few I'm still yet to play, too.

One thing that the Neptunia series in particular lacks a bit, though, is customisation. The characters aren't completely fixed in their abilities — you have some flexibility in the combo attacks you can equip each character with, and it's possible to customise the special attack combo-finishers they use, too — but so far as their main special abilities go, they're fixed.

Enter Omega Quintet, then, which offers more customisation than I think I've ever seen in a Compile Heart game, with the possible exception of the original Neptunia. And it's far, far slicker than that game — much as I love it, it was very, very flawed in many places.

The early part of the game sees you assembling the titular Quintet, and various mechanics are locked out until you've assembled them all and you've read all the tutorials (which are thankfully skippable, so you don't need to read them again on a second playthrough). When the team is assembled and all the mechanics are in place, the default setup gives each of the five girls a different weapon and a basic few skills that they've already learned.

Skills fall into three broad categories: Elemental Skills (or E Skills) are magic-like abilities that either attack with elemental affinities or provide beneficial effects such as healing or buffing. Mic Skills — the weapons are known as "Mics", because they're idols, after all — are attacks that are tied to an individual weapon type, so the character must have the appropriate weapon equipped in order to use them. And Special Skills are character-specific attacks that require "Voltage" built up through performing well in combat to be able to pull off.

Of these abilities, only Special Skills are fixed on a per-character basis; everything else is fully customisable. The girls each clearly have a favoured weapon — the one they start with — but there's nothing stopping you from levelling their proficiency in other weapons, too. In fact, it's beneficial to do so, since levelling up a weapon proficiency provides you with additional "Disc Analysis" points besides those you already get from increasing the character's overall level.

Disc Analysis is Omega Quintet's main progression and customisation system. Each character has a large diamond-shaped grid with lots of nodes on it. Each node represents a new skill, an upgrade to an existing skill or a buff to the character such as additional E Skill slots or increased stat growth when levelling up. Spending the Disc Analysis points acquired through levelling and increasing in proficiency unlocks new abilities and opens up new nodes, since some nodes have prerequisites before you can use them or require you to "approach" them from a particular direction on the grid.

In my first playthrough, I wasn't terribly careful with how I organised my characters' development. I kept long-term goals in mind — "I want that ability that's all the way over there" — and attempted to take the most direct routes across the grid to where I wanted to go, picking up any necessary prerequisites along the way. This mostly worked, but it left each character feeling fairly "generic", since a lot of them had ended up learning the same or similar skills, and none of them were particularly playing to their strengths.

This second playthrough, I've been more focused, since I'm playing on the Advanced difficulty. (It hasn't been too difficult yet, but that may be something to do with the fact I carried over my weapons and items from my first playthrough, making me a powerhouse in the early game) I've been specialising my characters and paying more attention to the "Chain Skill" system, which allows multiple characters to trigger more powerful special attacks if they perform the right skills in the right order using the "Harmonics" (simultaneous turn) system.

Kyouka, for example, has high Vitality — Vitality in this game is your speed stat, for some reason, rather than its more common usage as "ability to take punishment" — which means she usually acts first in a fight. This puts her in an ideal position to be a "buffer", so I've given her all of the stat-boosting spells and, using her four actions per turn, she can increase any four of the party's Song Power (physical attack), Stamina (physical defense), Knowledge (magical attack), Divinity (magical defense/healing power), Technique (accuracy) or Vitality (speed). Alternatively, she can use her spear skills to attack; she has a couple of useful area-of-effect attacks as well as one which draws enemies closer, helping to negate the damage penalty for attacking something at the "wrong" range for your weapon or ability.

Aria, meanwhile, has high Divinity, putting her in a good position to be a healer. So I've given her the healing spells. Her high Divinity also means that she can shrug off magical attacks quite easily — sometimes they even miss her altogether, and she has good resistance to status effects. When she's not healing, her combat fan skills have some large area-of-effect attacks as well as two skills that steal items from enemies, making her very useful indeed for farming items.

Nene has the highest Knowledge in the party, making her the "mage". Most of the other characters have fairly woeful Knowledge stats, making their E Skill attacks next to useless for anything other than the status effects or stat penalties most of them come with. Nene, however, probably does more damage with her E Skills than with her gun, so I've given her the most powerful, most costly area-of-effect offensive E Skill spells, making her a powerhouse for blowing things up. She's also very useful for item farming, since her Special Skill comes with a "Rare Steal" effect attached, allowing you to acquire items that you can't get otherwise. In the case of the powerful bosses in the Training Center optional dungeon, these rare items are extremely profitable, though you can seemingly only fight each of these bosses twice before they're gone for good, so no endless farming!

Otoha and Kanadeko are more "average" characters, with their main strengths stat-wise being Song Power, Stamina and, in Kanadeko's case, Vitality. This makes them solid physical attackers, and in Kanadeko's case, her high Vitality means that she usually acts immediately after Kyouka, allowing for some quick hits before the enemy gets started on pummelling the party. The two of them are distinguished by their Mic Skills, however; Otoha has two large area-of-effect attacks and a huge area-of-effect Special Skill, while Kanadeko has some smaller area-of-effect attacks and a single-target Special Skill, but does considerably more overall damage and also has the ability to delay enemy turns with many of her skills.

Things get even more interesting when you throw the Chain Skills into the mix. Because Chain Skills necessitate each "step" being performed by a different character, this makes each individual character's arsenal of E Skills important to consider to give access to the widest possible variety of Chain Skills at any given moment. But then you need to consider that character acting by themselves, too, since you can't always guarantee you'll be able to get the turn order to line up just the way you want it in order to pull one off.

Then you have the Neptunia-esque guard break system, whereby each enemy has a "magnetic field" surrounding them that weakens to varying degrees with each hit they take, and which replenishes fully when the enemy's turn next rolls around. When the field is broken, not only does the enemy take more damage, but certain abilities — particularly Chain Skills and Special Skills — activate a special mode called Pursuit, which extends the usual animation for the skill and does additional hits, usually for quite a bit more damage. As such, it's in your interest to try and batter the magnetic field down as efficiently as you can with low-cost skills, then unleash the powerful Chain Skills and Special Skills when the field is already broken, since Pursuit will only activate if the field is broken at the start of the move in question.

Sound complicated? It kind of is; the game does explain each of these individual elements to you on your first playthrough, but it doesn't really tell you how to apply them to your advantage. That part is entirely up to you to figure out, and after nearly 100 hours I think I've pretty much cracked it. We'll have to see if these tactics will take me safely to the end of the game and beyond, or whether I'll have to have a strategic rethink at some point!

Anyway, I've been playing the damn thing all day so I'm going to bed now.

The post 1964: 95 Hours With the Idols appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

This concept is actually, to some observers, a key aspect of Japanese culture at large. It's known as honne and tatemae and, specifically, describes the contrast between your true feelings and desires (honne) and the facade you put up to the public (tatemae). It accounts for a lot of things, particularly in popular culture — media like anime and video games are, among other things, a means of exploring and engaging with honne without having to crack tatemae.

It may sound like a strange concept, but in fact a lot of us do it without even thinking: ponder, if you will, the things you've looked at on the Internet in the last week, and how likely you are to talk about them with other people. It may be that you're fortunate enough to have open-minded friends and relatives who are more than happy to discuss anything and everything with you — or perhaps you simply don't care what people think of you — but there are bound to be at least some situations where you know to keep your mouth shut about things you find interesting, whether they're some form of fucked up pornography or unpopular sociopolitical ideas. Any time you bite your tongue and think better of "oversharing"? Well, that's the closest we have to tatemae in the West.

But I digress. We're here to talk about the Omega Quintet girls, and I did have a point to make: each of them display both honne and tatemae to varying degrees, and, through necessity, in a far more exaggerated manner than your average citizen. Due to the protagonist's role in the story as the girls' manager — and the player's adoption of that role — you get to see both sides: the honne aspect when they're hanging out and talking among themselves, and the tatemae aspect they display when they're being broadcast to the public.

Otoha is arguably the "leading" heroine in the story due to the fact that she's introduced alongside the protagonist Takt. Otoha is a cheerful, positive, upbeat young girl who has always looked at idol culture — or, in the context of Omega Quintet, "Verse Maiden" culture — with starry-eyed awe. Although Omega Quintet's world is post-apocalyptic and in many ways both bleak and dystopian, Otoha's infectious energy allows her to bring a sense of brightness and lightness to even dark situations; fellow Quintet member Aria even says as much in a rare moment of lucidity.

Otoha struggles the most with honne and tatemae. She's a ditz, to put it bluntly, and she often lets this aspect come across even when she's on camera. The first time she attempts to make her "debut", she is literally pushed to the ground and upstaged by Kyouka, who is, at this point, working independently. She struggles for the longest time to get the Verse Maidens' fans to even remember her name and, over time, comes to recognise that her talents don't always match up to her enthusiasm.

That doesn't stop her, though; despite numerous setbacks, she remains determined to realise her dream of being a successful Verse Maiden, and her determination proves inspirational and infectious to her comrades. Even the rather dour Takt is swept along by her energy at times, though he'd never admit it; after all, in the game's earliest moments, it is Otoha who saves Takt from an unpleasant end at the hands of the Blare.

Kanadeko, meanwhile, is another energetic character. While Otoha is passionate and determined, Kanadeko is more concerned with having fun and being friends with everyone. This is reflected through everything from her perpetually wide-eyed facial expressions to her seeming inability to stand still and her loud voice. She's keen to do a good job as a Verse Maiden not because she's especially passionate about it in the same way as Otoha — though she is dedicated to her work — but because she thinks it will be a fun thing to do.

Kanadeko is the most naturally at home on stage, too. She has natural presence and an energetic aura about her, and in fact she is, in many ways, the character who displays the least difference between her honne and her tatemae. Both on and off the stage, she's confident, loud  and, while she recognises that she may not be the best at what she does, she both enjoys it and is keen for others to enjoy it along with her.

Kanadeko's perpetual companion is Nene, who in many ways is the polar opposite of her loudmouthed counterpart. Nene is shy, awkward and has a tendency to babble incoherently when she's feeling nervous — which is quite frequently. In extreme cases, this trait exhibits itself through her blurting out some things that make people feel a little uncomfortable — such as her enjoyment of and enthusiasm for firearms — usually closely followed up by some embarrassed awkwardness as she apologises for saying "strange" things.

In contrast to Kanadeko, Nene has probably the largest difference between her honne and her tatemae. On stage, she almost becomes a different person. She channels her nervous energy into projecting a confident appearance to the world and, despite both her own shortcomings and her lack of belief in her own abilities, she does a good job. Off the stage, meanwhile, she struggles with depression and anxiety, particularly in social situations, and tries to stick close to Kanadeko whenever she can for two reasons: she trusts Kanadeko, as the two have been together for some time at the story's outset, and she knows that Kanadeko is more than capable of distracting people so she can slip quietly into the background.

Kyouka, meanwhile is the character that is probably most directly concerned with her honne and tatemae. As a "class president" sort of character, Kyouka is serious and determined and almost painfully tsun at times, but she sees her lack of confidence in her performance abilities as a failing, and consequently tries to do something about them. She is also very concerned with what people think about her; she spends quite some time worried that her former mentor Shiori hates her for coming to join the other Verse Maidens, and it takes a reluctant intervention by Takt to help the pair at least start to realise that neither of them really resents the other, though they both find that impossible to admit.

Kyouka wants to be the best, and she finds it inordinately frustrating that Aria is a more natural performer seemingly without realising it or even being aware that she's doing it. She channels that frustration into working herself hard, and indeed it's this determination that brings her together with the other Verse Maidens in the first place: her desire to be the best even at the expense of her own personal welfare sees her throwing herself into a battle she can't possibly win alone, only to be helped out by her soon-to-be-friends.

Kyouka's harsh exterior occasionally slips around the other girls and Takt, however; the first time Takt comes to her room, he's surprised to discover that it's a mess, with notes pinned to the wall, clothes on the floor and rubbish overflowing out of the bin. Kyouka initially thinks nothing of this until it's pointed out to her by Takt and some of the other girls, then becomes extremely embarrassed about it. Several days later, Takt returns to her room only to discover it's in exactly the same state as the last time he saw it; she admits that she eventually concluded it wasn't worth the hassle and that she was more comfortable this way. It's a rare moment of clarity and honesty from Kyouka, and helps to humanise her a great deal.

Finally, Aria is the most enigmatic of the Verse Maidens. Initially introduced as a happy-go-lucky, cheerful girl whom Kanadeko and Nene knew when they first joined the group long before Otoha and Takt came along, we subsequently discover that she suffered greatly at the hands of the Blare and went into hiding. When she re-emerges, she's seemingly emotionless — but not cold — and seemingly not quite aware of everything that's going on around her. The damage to her mind by the Blare, it seems, was severe.

Or was it? The interesting thing about Aria is that despite her habits of speaking very slowly and hesitantly or referring to people she's talking directly to in the third person, she's clearly one of the more insightful members of the cast, often pointing out things the others don't see. And, because the damage to her mind also seemingly removed any sense of tact, she'll say things bluntly and honestly, sometimes without realising that they might be interpreted as hurtful. At the other end of the spectrum, she frequently tries to make jokes, but her stony-faced expression and emotionless voice often make people misinterpret them as something rather more horrifying — particularly when she jokes about subjects like suicide.

Aria's intriguing to me because she presents an interesting reflection on what it's like to live with depression. Nene does this to a certain degree, too — I find her social anxiety particularly relatable — but Aria's floating through life in her own little world, observing and commenting on things and seemingly being surprised when people notice or acknowledge her, is actually a fairly accurate (if exaggerated) representation of what it feels like some days when depression takes over your perception of the world. You don't quite feel "connected" to anyone; you don't quite feel "real"; sometimes you're not even sure how to interact with others — or if you want to. It's likely no coincidence that her colours are the darkest of all the Verse Maidens — black and purple — and that these colours are shared with the Blare, the source of her trauma.

I'm yet to beat the game so I don't know how these girls' personal stories continue and conclude, but I'm very interested to find out. It's a great ensemble cast overall, and one from which it's very difficult to pick a favourite.

If I had to be pressed for one, though? Nene. Even if she is occasionally terrifying.

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Perhaps "all of its own" isn't quite the right description, mind, since Omega Quintet's combat is executed as something of a curious blend between the battle systems from the Atelier series, the Ar Tonelico series, The Legend of Heroes: Trails in the Sky, Final Fantasy X and Final Fantasy XIII. That's quite a mixture, but it works really well, particularly when you pull off something as enjoyably silly as this:

The above sequence was recorded at just level 20, by the way; I shudder to think what numbers the girls will be putting out by the end of the game.

Interestingly, the game doesn't bombard you with the complete combat system right from the get-go; it gradually increases in complexity over the course of the first few chapters at a fairly sedate pace, allowing you to get comfortable and familiar with each new concept before a new one is introduced. Ultimately, by the time the complete battle system has unlocked, you should be well familiar with all the possibilities it has to offer. At about 15 hours or so in, I haven't seen everything the system has to offer, yet; for some, this may draw unfavourable comparisons to Final Fantasy XIII, which was lambasted for having a "20 hour tutorial", but it's worth noting that Omega Quintet does sidestep this issue a little by being somewhat less linear than Final Fantasy XIII was; at any given moment, there's a bunch of sidequests to do, hidden treasures to find, new areas to open up, items to craft, special items to unlock and all manner of other things to do. (And besides, there was nothing the fuck wrong with the way Final Fantasy XIII did things, anyway. So there.)

Here's roughly how the system works. Like the Neptunia games, you can get the advantage at the start of combat by attacking an enemy before they come into contact with you; conversely, letting an enemy touch you from behind will give them the advantage. How battle begins sets the opening initiative order, and from there the game follows a clear to understand turn order system, reflected by a graphical representation down the side of the screen.

Each party member has a number of actions per turn, increasing as they increase their overall proficiency with each of the game's five weapon types — axe, gun, spear, fans and gauntlets. These actions can be used to attack, use a skill or use an item, and when all the actions have been chosen, the party member performs each of them in sequence before the turn order moves on to the next combatant. Of key consideration when choosing skills is the "wait time" — more powerful skills will push the party member's next turn further down the turn order, potentially giving enemies the opportunity to attack several times before she can go again. Conversely, certain skills increase the enemies' wait time when they successfully land, so you can manipulate the turn order yourself to a certain degree.

Attacks, skills and even items have an effective range, represented by coloured lines on the ground. Do something to someone in the green area and it will be most effective; then comes blue, yellow and finally red, which means you either can't do the action at all, or it will be at severely reduced effectiveness. Certain attacks and skills also have a radius, either circular or a range of "tiles" horizontally, vertically or both, meaning you can hit multiple enemies at the same time. At the start of a party member's turn, you can move them forward or backward in the formation, allowing you to manipulate the positioning to your advantage. There are also "knockback" skills, which are self-explanatory, and "reverse" skills, which… uh, I'm not entirely sure what they do.

Here's one thing I have to nitpick slightly; there are certain aspects the game doesn't explain very well or, indeed, at all in some cases. The stat names, for example, don't take the usual Attack/Defense/Magic Attack/Magic Defense/Accuracy/Agility format from other Compile Heart games; instead we have Song Power/Stamina/Knowledge/Divinity/Technique/Vitality. You can work out what they are from a bit of experimentation, but it takes a bit of adjustment. Likewise, some of the status effects and added effects (such as the aforementioned "Reverse") aren't made very clear at all, though again, you can probably work these things out for yourself.

Personally, I'm actually all for games encouraging you to figure out some of their mechanics for yourself. You don't need to understand these things to get a kick out of Omega Quintet, but if you're the sort of person who likes to min-max your characters and have them fighting at maximum effectiveness, be aware that you'll need to get your hands a little dirty — particularly as the characters in Omega Quintet are significantly more customisable than, say, the Neptunia girls, who don't allow you to take any control over their development at all, though they do allow you to set up your own custom combos according to how you like to fight. In other words, Omega Quintet's apparently deliberate obtuseness at times will be a turn-off to some people, but personally, I actually like not being spoon-fed absolutely everything.

Anyway. It's good. Real good. And I can't wait to play more. So I'm probably going to do just that right now; I've got a combo record to beat, after all.

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And lordy, what a lot of non-story content there is. There's sidequests to do, which tend to have fairly modest rewards but challenge you to battle powerful monsters and master the game's various mechanics. There's a crafting system, which requires you to discover new recipes for various items, then gather the materials for them either from enemies or "harvest points" in dungeons. There's the Scout system, in which you send out numerous NPCs on your behalf to check out dungeons and potentially manipulate the items, enemies, drop rates or experience point gain in particular areas and occasionally discover completely new places. And there's little tricks like earning money by gathering an item called "Invisible Cloth," purchasing a cheap costume, combining it with the aforementioned Invisible Cloth to make a new item of clothing and then selling them for 1.5 million credits a pop.

All of this side stuff is conspiring to prevent me from advancing the game's story. Said story is immensely entertaining as it always has been in the Neptunia series, but Victory's mechanics and optional content are far more solid than even Neptunia mk2, which certainly had plenty of things to do. The combat system has been refined into something that is immensely enjoyable to repeatedly engage in, the difficulty has been ramped up considerably over the rather straightforward mk2, and just chasing down these sidequests and items is extremely addictive.

Although the Neptunia series is widely derided by the mainstream press, I'm consistently impressed by what it's managed to achieve over the course of three games. What initially began as something of a cheap joke at the expense of the games industry and the "console wars" in particular has developed into something much more over time — each of the game's main characters has been developed into their own unique person with a distinctive personality. Okay, there's plenty of standard anime tropes at work, but combined with the fact that these characters are supposed to represent games consoles and manufacturers, it really works; why wouldn't PlayStation be a tsundere who enjoys nothing more than working too hard, and why wouldn't she have a sister afraid of never quite being able to match up? Why wouldn't Nintendo live in a vibrantly-coloured candyland but actually be ruthless, cold and prone to bouts of completely irrational anger?

By nearly 60 hours into Victory, I'm no longer really thinking of the Neptunia cast as "the Sega one, the PlayStation one, the Microsoft one"; they've become great characters in their own right, and their interactions with one another are a real highlight. In fact, such is the popularity and success of the series in its native Japan, it's got its own anime spinoff which I'm curious to watch at some point, and there are several new games on the way, too.

I find it quite odd but also rather pleasing how much this game series has resonated with me since I first picked it up on a whim out of interest one day. "Objectively" speaking — in as much as it's possible to be "objective" when talking about pieces of entertainment — there are far better games out there, both in terms of gameplay and technical proficiency, but something about the adventures of Neptune and the gang has really spoken to me ever since that clunky first game, and has ensured that any time something with the words Hyperdimension Neptunia is released, it's pretty much an instapurchase for me. It's been a while since a "big-name" game has elicited that sort of feeling from me.

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My hesitation with Tales of Xillia's trophies is that although the game itself is excellent, the trophy list was rather uninspiring and distinctly grindy. A significant proportion of the trophies consist of "use [x] character's [y] ability [z] times", and there's one frustratingly missable trophy that's going to require a second playthrough to get. (Fortunately, I was intending on doing that anyway, since Tales of Xillia gives you the option to run through the story as one of two different main characters.)

What I've found in the course of going for some of these trophies, though, is that they're slightly more enjoyable than they might have suggested. The most interesting thing about a lot of them is that they're seemingly designed to give you a deeper appreciation of the battle system and how it works — sure, you can knock the difficulty down to Easy and basically hack-and-slash your way through, but go for some trophies and you'll come to understand that each character handles noticeably differently, and has special abilities that are suited to various situations, many of which require actual skill to pull off. Jude, for example, has an ability called "Snap Pivot" where if you block and backstep at the right moment, you'll zip around behind an enemy for some uninterrupted pummelling for a moment; performing the same move with Leia, meanwhile, causes her staff to extend, giving her a greater reach for a few moments.

The way the trophies help you understand the battle system extends beyond the ones where you have to actively trigger skills, though. Each character has a "link skill" that they perform when you're not actively controlling them, but you partner them up with your active character. Achieving some of the trophies requires that you understand how, why and when these link skills are triggered: Jude heals you if you get knocked down (assuming he wasn't knocked down as well); Leia steals from enemies if you knock them down, requiring you to figure out which skills are reliable knockdown providers; Rowen protects you from magic; Alvin breaks guards; and Milla can "bind" enemies.

I've still got a way to go yet — including a whole other playthrough, which hopefully shouldn't take too long, given that I'm cleaning up as many of the time-consuming trophies as possible in the post-game section of my first run — but I'm still enjoying myself, and given how consistently good Xillia has been, I'm happy to show it my appreciation by striving for a Platinum.

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Anyway, Ar Tonelico II. It's… well, fantastic. I must confess to having not been as immediately smitten with it as I was the first game, as the conflicting art styles between the field and battle sprites (and between the field sprites of the first game and the second game) were initially a little jarring. (Seriously, everyone has really, really big hands and massive feet on the field maps and it's very disconcerting to begin with.) But after not very long at all, I found myself looking past this rather superficial consideration and immersing myself in what turned out to be a very pleasingly deep and meaningful story packed with good characterisation and questionable translation from the original Japanese. (On that note, though, the translation was at least understandable despite a few errors, and certainly no worse than some visual novels I've played.)

Spoilarz Ahead

Ar Tonelico II stands on its own, but also fits into the current "trilogy" as the sort of "dark middle episode". Whereas the first Ar Tonelico was rather bright and breezy most of the way through, the land of Ar Tonelico II is a bit bleaker. The people are struggling, there isn't enough land for everyone and everyone is clinging to the seemingly hopeless desire that the land's Holy Maiden will be able to create "Metafalica" — a verdant green land summoned through the use of Reyvateil Song Magic. Plenty of political machinations and backstabbings threaten to fuck everything up completely (and pretty much do on several occasions over the course of the entire narrative) but, this being a JRPG, our plucky band of heroes are there to wander the lands, right wrongs and eventually figure out how in the world they are going to help everyone find hope for the future.

Ar Tonelico II's story is nice in that it isn't quite the clichéd "Big Bad wants to destroy the world" business. Sure, there's world-threatening stuff going on and the eventual aim of the game is to save the world from an unpleasant fate, but it's not quite what you might expect. For starters, you spend most of the game not being quite sure who the "good" and "bad" guys are. There's no sign of a single easily-identifiable antagonist who is fucking shit up and needs a good Omnislash to the face; no white-haired pretty boy accompanied by tubular bells and organ music every time he appears. In fact, over the course of the narrative, none of these characters are presented as one-dimensional — most of them go through some sort of change and/or growth as the story progresses.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about Ar Tonelico II in this regard is the fact that the final boss "Mir" from the first game is actually a party member in the second — though you don't know this when you first meet her, and in fact it's entirely possible to go through pretty much the whole game without noticing this or figuring it out, depending on the choices you make and the optional events you witness. Not having played the first game won't affect your enjoyment of the second, but if you have played the first game, the moment where you find yourself going "Wait… OH. Mir?!" is a "big reveal" on a par with Darth Revan in Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic or SHODAN's first appearance in System Shock 2.

Herein lies one of the interesting things about the first two Ar Tonelico games in general: "good" and "evil" aren't absolute. In Ar Tonelico, we get some insight into why Mir is the way she is and why she is so angry about everything — and it's easy to find yourself sympathising with her rather than just wanting to kick her ass. In Ar Tonelico II, by spending some time with her as a (relatively) normal person, we get to find out a whole lot more about her — what happened to her in the distant past, what led her to her actions in the first game, and how she feels about what has happened to her then and since. If you follow her "route" through to its complete conclusion in Ar Tonelico II, it's a really wonderful story arc for one of the most interesting, troubled characters I've encountered in a very long time. I don't yet know if she shows up in Ar Tonelico Qoga, the third game, but I'll be very happy to see her again if she does.

The overriding theme of the Ar Tonelico series is that of bonds between people, and this is particularly apparent in the second game. The main theme of Ar Tonelico II's story is that the more intense a relationship between two or more people, the more painful it is. The more people you surround yourself with, the more "alive" you feel from being part of something bigger than yourself, but the more pain you suffer when you lose those precious people. The world-ending chaos at the end of Ar Tonelico II is not brought about by a desire for dominance or a display of power, but instead out of a simple desire to not feel that sharp pain of loss any longer. If everyone was able to abandon their physical bodies and live on purely as an individual spiritual entity, the primary antagonist's theory goes, no-one would have any need for other people, no-one would feel the pain of loss, and everyone would be happy in their complete and total individuality. But, responds the protagonist, no-one would be truly alive then. Life would not have meaning drawn from the people around you and the hardships you work together to overcome. You'd be little more than data.

It's an interesting and somewhat bittersweet message, but it works hugely well in the context of both the overarching plot and the smaller, individual character-led stories that unfold over the course of the whole game. I'm all for exploring deep and thought-provoking themes through interactive entertainment, and Ar Tonelico II successfully achieves that without sacrificing the "spectacular" side of its overall experience. It's still recognisably a JRPG with all the over-the-top pyrotechnics and anime-style special attacks that entails, but at the same time it's a complex and emotional tale far beyond the "Evil Guy Is Over There, Go Stab Him" trope that people (largely incorrectly) assume still characterises the genre.

In other words, just go play it, all right?

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Today, it's Cavia/Square Enix's strange, wonderful and rather depressing action-JRPG Nier.

Nier

Nier wasn't particularly well-received by critics upon its release due to a variety of factors. Having played it (and adored it, I might add), I can see why it was criticised, but equally I feel it was treated a little too harshly. Not only was it doing some fascinating things with the way it told its story and what its story was about — I'll leave the spoilers out of the discussion for now — but it was also doing some really interesting things with its gameplay, too. What initially appeared to be a relatively conventional third-person character action game/RPG subsequently revealed itself to have elements of visual novels, text adventures, farming sims, 2D platform games, isometric-perspective dungeon crawlers, bullet hell shooters and numerous other genres. It really was a massively interesting game in almost every way.

And then there was its soundtrack, which even if you don't like the game is indisputably amazing. Let's look at some standout tracks.

This track, known as Hills of Radiant Wind, is one of the tracks you'll hear most frequently in the game, since it typically accompanies your jaunts across the countryside surrounding the small settlement where the title character Nier and his daughter Yonah live. This track is hugely memorable both for having a catchy melody and capturing the atmosphere of the game world beautifully. The pounding drums at the bottom of the mix give a sense of adventure and driving forwards, while the vocal line atop the relatively simple accompaniment gives a suitable air of melancholy to the experience. Nier is not a happy game, and this track, while one of the more "upbeat" ones from the soundtrack, reflects that nicely.

This song, simply called Grandma, is beautiful, and is, to me, probably the most representative piece of music that illustrates what the Nier experience is all about. A simple accompaniment accompanied by a mournful voice provides a massively atmospheric backdrop to some of the most emotional story moments in the game.

And then we move on to a few tracks that use the "leitmotiv" technique I'm so fond of, where a number of different pieces make use of similar melodic or harmonic sequences to reflect various things happening to different characters and/or places.

Let's start with Emil, who, without spoiling anything, gets fairly consistently screwed over throughout the course of the whole game, through no fault of his own. Poor kid.

Anyway, here's Emil's "Sacrifice" theme, which accompanies some heartbreaking, sad moments:

And by contrast, here's his "Karma" theme, which comes shortly after a heartbreaking, sad moment when you're venting some aggression on the perpetrators:

The addition of the pounding drums and the urgent piano line in this one always gives me shivers, particularly when I remember how it was used in context.

Then we have Popola and Devola, two characters who are extremely important to the overall narrative in ways I won't spoil right now. When we encounter them, we hear various versions of the "Song of the Ancients" theme, beginning with this acoustic guitar-centric version:

…and moving on to this… I'm not sure how to describe this, really. Plinky-plonky version?

Well, if you're going to do two different versions based on the two characters who sing it, you might as well do a third version where they sing it together, mightn't you? Yes, obviously. This, along with Devola's theme above, are some of the only examples of diegetic music in the game — the rest is there to evoke a mood rather than actually be "present" in the world.

And, hell, if you're going to do that, you may as well go the whole hog and have a battle theme based on their (by now) iconic song, right? Of course.

The latter one, like Emil's "Karma" theme, still gives me shivers because I can remember it in context. Gobsmacking.

Then we come to Kainé, possibly one of the most fascinating characters in any game ever for a whole host of reasons, many of which aren't made entirely explicit in the game. Kainé has two main versions of her theme: a slow one, which goes like this…

…and a fast one, which goes like this.

Those who know their Nier lore will be familiar with the fact that Kainé is intersex. If you weren't familiar with your Nier lore, now you know too — don't worry, this isn't technically a spoiler in terms of the game's overall plot, and in fact knowing it beforehand brings a whole host of hidden meanings to a bunch of sequences in the game to the fore. I like to think that the markedly different character of these two pieces reflects Kainé's "masculine" and "feminine" sides, because she is most definitely in possession of both. She is, it's fair to say, a very angry person — and with good reason — but not afraid to express her feminine side in some rather… flamboyant ways.

One of the most interesting things about the vocal-heavy tracks in Nier are that they don't use a language from this world. Instead, vocalist Emi Evans was encouraged to make up words in a "futuristic language" — Nier is set in the far, far future — and used elements of Scottish Gaelic, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, French, English and Japanese to create something with a very distinctive sound, but which doesn't "mean" anything in and of itself. Instead, the vocal sounds are simply intended, for the most part, to evoke the overall feeling of sadness that pervades the whole game without distracting the player with recognisable words.

So that's Nier. Easily one of my favourite game soundtracks of all time, and a score which adds a huge amount of emotion to what is already a game rammed to the rafters with heartbreak.

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Let's take the stage I've got up to now — "Phase 2" in game terms. In the first Ar Tonelico, the change from Phase 1 to Phase 2 marked the point where you were out of the "exposition" chapter and into the plot proper. Phase 2 was also the point where you had to choose between the two heroines, and then had two completely separate (but related) storylines to follow along with. The paths then reconverged towards the end of Phase 2 and remained together for the (completely optional) Phase 3, which offered the "true" ending of the game.

Phase 2 in Ar Tonelico II is a bit different. Rather than, like the first one, being set in the same locations and simply branching off in two different directions, Phase 2 of Ar Tonelico II takes place in a completely different area that works completely differently to the environment you've spent the previous 12 hours in. The early part of the game is, aside from its many and varied peculiar gameplay systems, relatively conventional — you visit towns and do stuff in them, then you go to dungeons. Then you go back to towns. And so on. The linear plotline is broken up by an optional "hunting" sidequest in which you can track down various "I.P.D."-infected Reyvateils to add to your "Girl Power" arsenal (I'm not even going to get started explaining that, I'll be here all day) but for the most part, you're doing the usual JRPG business.

Phase 2, meanwhile, takes place in an environment that changes according to your choices. Early in the Phase, you're introduced to a new mechanic known as the Infelsphere. This virtual world works in a similar way to the "cosmospheres" found inside the heroines' minds, but rather than reflecting their inner turmoil and anxieties, the Infelsphere represents the relationship between the two heroines and how they understand each other. Events unfold in the Infelsphere in which you have to make choices as to how to respond, and the choices you make in the Infelsphere subsequently affect what parts of the "real world" open and close to you. Your eventual goal is to get to a specific location by navigating your way through a maze of these pathways that open and close according to how the Infelsphere events unfold, with each point on the path containing some sort of "trial" to overcome. This might be as simple as defeating a monster, or it might be a challenge such as successfully smuggling biscuits past the penguin-like "Pippen" creatures.

Thematically, in each of these trials, you're "proving your love" to one of the heroines, which subsequently provides you with keys to unlock new events in the Infelsphere, and so it continues. It's a really peculiar, really interesting structure that not only offers some unconventional JRPG gameplay in the "real world" sections, but also provides some intriguing insights into the characters and the way they respond to various situations in the Infelsphere component.

You'll notice I haven't really mentioned the plot in this description, and that's deliberate, as discussing the plot surrounding all this would be a massive spoiler, so I'll spare you that — for now, anyway. What I am finding particularly pleasing about Ar Tonelico II as a whole, though, is that even if it didn't have a compelling plot and awesome characters — which it does — it would still have rock-solid gameplay with an absolute bucketload of things to do. It is just one of the many, many examples out there that prove JRPGs are far more than the "ATTACK, MAGIC, ITEM"-fests that ill-informed detractors of the genre assume these games still are.

They haven't been that way for a long time, people. So if you haven't played a JRPG since Final Fantasy VII I strongly recommend you check out what the genre has done since then — you might just be very pleasantly surprised by what you find.

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In the original Ar Tonelico, we were introduced to the basic combat system; then the way it worked when you have the magic-using Reyvateil characters in your party; the Dive system, in which you could explore the inner recesses of the heroine's mental "cosmosphere" worlds; the "bedtime conversations" system whereby the protagonist and the heroines could get to know each other a bit better (and subsequently unlock deeper levels in the cosmosphere); the "Grathmeld" crafting system, whereby you could take all the junk you'd acquired from the hundreds of NYO?!s you'd killed and turn them into various items, then enjoy some amusing scenes as the heroines try and convince you to let them name the item something ridiculous; and the "Install" system, whereby you're able to insert crystals into the heroines (and yes, they relish the opportunity for innuendo inherent in this process) to power up their various abilities and customise the effect of their spells.

In Ar Tonelico 2, meanwhile, we're first of all introduced to a new and rather odd combat system in which the two sides in the combat alternate attacking and defending for a set period of time — when attacking, you have to press buttons corresponding to the party member you'd like to attack and combine it with a directional button to do a specific move; when defending, you have to time button presses carefully to protect the back-line Reyvateil "mages" from attack, if they're present. The way the Reyvateils work is then introduced — a weird meter in the corner of the screen reflects what they want the front line to do, and fulfilling their demands provides bonuses, helping them to cast more effective spells more quickly. Then, once again, we have the Dive system, which works largely as it did before, albeit with a lot more multiple-choice bits where you have to say the right thing to proceed. Then we have the "I.P.D." system, whereby part of the plot dictates that you have to subdue and capture Reyvateils that are infected with I.P.D., which hasn't been explained yet. Then we have a slightly different crafting system, whereby certain items can only be crafted in certain places (you can only make food in a restaurant kitchen, for example), and the same recipe has different outcomes depending on which heroine you get to help.

Then things get a little odd. "Dualstalling" replaces the "Install" system from the previous game, and is the only way of levelling up Reyvateils, who no longer gain experience normally. Instead, at regular opportunities, you have to let them take a bath in water infused with crystals you've collected or purchased. During the bath (which looks rather large and luxurious, I must say), they wander around a bit, and if they pass over one of the crystals they dropped in, they gain a temporary special effect until the next time they bathe. And if you drop in toys (bath toys, you pervert) and scented oils, different effects might emerge. Oh, and if both heroines are bathing together, they'll often chat about things, too, which helps improve their "sync" value, which in turn helps them fight more effectively together in combat.

Then we have the "Dive Therapy" system, which I was introduced to in tonight's session. Now the subdued I.P.D.-infected Reyvateils have a purpose — they can be "cured" by one of the characters, who is a Dive therapist. Indulging in Dive Therapy involves talking to the Reyvateil and attempting to manipulate her mood to its ideal level on a meter at the top of the screen. Administering various treatments can affect the rate at which this meter changes with each response you give to their statements. Some responses increase the meter, others drop it, and each infected Reyvateil has a "sweet spot" where the meter needs to be in order to be cured.

That's not all you can do with them, though. The cured Reyvateils then bugger off and scatter themselves around the world to form a fan club for one of the heroines, and their affection for her increases as they see her doing cool stuff. When their affection maxes out, they will help out — exactly how, I'm not sure yet, but we'll see.

Oh, and also through the "Girl Power" system you can "equip" rescued Reyvateils to help the protagonist out in various ways. They then level up and improve their abilities and… waah, my head hurts.

All these weird and wonderful mechanics may sound overwhelming, but they're introduced at just the right rate. You're shown a new concept, then given a period of time in which to explore it in practical terms. Then another one comes along, and you can explore that. And so it continues. The nice thing is that only a few of these mechanics are "spoiled" in the game's manual, meaning the existence of things like the Dive Therapy system and various other bits and pieces are a nice surprise when you come across them for the first time. (Unless you've read this post first, of course.)

On the one hand, it's nice to be ready for all the game's mechanics and be able to refer back to a manual when you need to. But on the other, it's quite interesting (and oddly liberating) to play a game that trusts you to experiment a bit and figure out what on Earth (Metafalss?) is going on. Take the Dualstalling system, for example — while the help menu in the game explains roughly how it works, it's only by fiddling around with various arrangements of bathtime goodies that you'll figure out the most effective means of letting your mage-ladies wash their stinky bits and level up.

Basically, Ar Tonelico 2's more esoteric features are something you'll either be on board with or not. As you've probably gathered, I love them — and besides, are they really any more weird than summoning giant chariot-riding penis demons by fusing cards together, or sucking the magic out of monsters to somehow attach to your own strength? No. No they're not. So shush.

The post 1138: Song Magic appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Ar Tonelico 2: Melody of Metafalica is a surprisingly different beast to its predecessor in many ways. Its Japanese incarnation came out in the same year as the first Ar Tonelico hit Western shores, but it wouldn't be until 2009 that North American and European players would get their hands on it. That actually makes it a surprisingly recent game, released in the twilight of the PS2 era. This might explain why I never really paid it much mind first time around (besides being unfamiliar with the prequel, obviously) — everyone (including me) was already well and truly enraptured by "next gen" by that point, though games like Persona 4 (which also came out in 2009 in Europe) had shown me that the previous generation still had plenty to offer.

The whole Ar Tonelico experience has had a complete overhaul in Ar Tonelico 2. Gone are the distinctly PS1-ish isometric-perspective graphics (though I actually sort of miss them now), replaced with hand-drawn backdrops in towns and a pleasing combination of polygons, flat objects and fixed camera angles to create "3D" dungeons. The sprites, too, have had a bit of a change in aesthetic — they have peculiar, stylised proportions now, which frankly has taken a little adjusting to, but the improved amount of emotive animation on them makes up for the fact that everyone has really, really distractingly massive hands.

The biggest change is in the battle system, however. I liked Ar Tonelico's battle system, as it combined conventional JRPG turn-based battling with an interesting magic system that encouraged you to find creative ways to finish battles "well" rather than quickly. It was a bit repetitive by the end, however, and it was consistently way too easy pretty much all the way through the entire game.

Ar Tonelico 2's battle system, meanwhile, is a completely different beast. It's still sort of turn-based, but not in the same way as its predecessor. Instead, the two sides in the conflict each take turns to attack and defend. When it's your turn to attack, you have a limited amount of time to use your two "vanguard" (front line) characters to attack; when it's your turn to defend you have to carefully time button presses to protect the back line Reyvateils from taking damage. The Reyvateils make demands on you during battle, too, requesting that you perform specific attack moves by pressing the button for the corresponding front line character and a particular direction. Fulfilling these demands gives you various bonuses that make the battle turn in your favour. It's interesting, as it means you have to really concentrate on every battle rather than just mashing the "attack" button, but I'm yet to have a significantly challenging battle to show its full potential just yet.

The "Dive" system makes a return, and is almost identical to its predecessor. You get to know the game's heroines in the real world by talking to them at campsites and inns, then "dive" into their mental "Cosmosphere" world to find out more about their various inner struggles and problems. Overcoming these problems helps them craft new Song Magic which you can then use in battle — plus these are entertaining mini-stories in their own right. Diving is mostly the same, though there are a lot more situations where you're given a choice of responses to a particular situation and must pick the correct one rather than simply following it through.

In "new, weird gameplay mechanics" news we have the new Dualstall system, which replaces the "Install" mechanic from the previous game (which allowed you to boost a Reyvateil's abilities by plugging various crystals into her… spells in a rather suggestive manner). Dualstalling essentially means flinging the game's two heroines into a bath infused with magic crystals, nice-smelling bath oils and bath toys and letting the attached abilities, uh, be absorbed. The heroines will also have a good chat in the bath, so this is a good way of building up their "Sync" gauge, which helps them work together better in battle.

So far I'm about four hours into the new game and enjoying it a lot so far. The change in aesthetic and gameplay style gave me a bit of "culture shock" initially but that thankfully soon faded, and I'm now enjoying the story and characters just as before. It's interesting to note that the game still feels recognisable as an Ar Tonelico game, yet has a different setting (albeit in the same overall world), different characters and different gameplay mechanics. I'm assuming that the third game (which is where the series made the jump to PS3) will be "similarly different", too, judging by a quick flick through the manual.

Further reports as events warrant.

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The most immediately striking thing about Ar Tonelico for a new player coming to it for the first time in 2013 is that it looks old. It's also worth noting that it came out in 2007, so it actually looked pretty old when it first came out. That said, after a few hours of play, the low-resolution isometric-perspective sprite-based graphics cease to matter on a technical level, and the amount of character and personality in them starts to shine through. A friend of mine just noted that the visual style is actually something of a successor to stuff like Secret of Mana and the like and that's a great comparision — I'm kicking myself for not figuring that out sooner.

Outside of the in-game graphics, Ar Tonelico has some absolutely lovely character designs. Lyner may look fairly "generic JRPG hero" in his stylings, but at least he has some personality about him. The two heroines Aurica and Misha are both attractive and appealing in completely different ways, and a plot twist I won't go into here sees you interacting with Misha in both her "spunky young girl" and "equally spunky young woman" forms. The third Reyvateil introduced later in the game also proves herself to be an interesting character in her own right, again with her own unique visual style and "appeal elements".

One of the most interesting things about the game to me — and the thing I'm intending to write about this Wednesday — is the game's multi-route, multi-ending structure. Now, this could very easily be a recipe for disaster, as multiple endings in lengthy RPGs are often a good method to ensure your players won't see all of the awesome story content you made. That's not necessarily a bad thing — it's kind of cool when you can discuss a game with a friend and discover they had a completely different experience to you — but it's also frustrating to some people who like to know they've got everything they can out of a game before moving on.

Ar Tonelico's multiple endings and routes are handled in a rather peculiar manner. There are three "phases" to the game, each of which is a complete story arc in and of itself, complete with final boss confrontation at the end of each. Early in the second "phase", you have the opportunity to go with one of the two heroines and experience their story. Aurica's story gives you an overall view of what is going on in the overarching plot of the game, while Misha's story gives you a more personal view of what is going on with her and how she is relevant to everything. If you play Misha's route first, there are a number of scenes you see completely without context that don't really make sense. If you play Aurica's route, however, you play an important part in these scenes. The two paths then converge towards the end of the second phase, and the game then apparently ends — the credits roll and everything.

There's a twist, though. In a post-credits sequence, you get to run around and do all the usual JRPG "our party's splitting up, say goodbye" business, but once you've done all that, you're presented with another choice: live a happy life with [insert girl you chose here], or refuse to accept that as "the end" and move on. If the latter option is chosen, you find yourself entering a completely optional third phase that is about 20 hours by itself, and which leads to the "true" ending.

Except in that third phase, there are four possible endings, three of which relate to one of the three heroine characters — the latter of whom only becomes a major player in this third phase. The third phase is pretty much identical regardless of which girl you picked earlier, but the very end — if you fulfilled some very precise conditions — allows you to pick between the girl you chose earlier and the new addition. There's also a "bad" ending relatively early in the third phase that basically says "I can't be bothered with all this sidequesting, let's just get this over with".

So that's a total of… hang on… (counts) six endings? Fortunately, there's absolutely no need to play through the game six times to see all of them — instead, you can play through once, save before the "big decision" in phase 2, play one route to either the end of phase 2 or to complete completion in phase 3, then go back and do the other route, stopping wherever you didn't stop first time around. In my case, I played Aurica's route through to total completion, then played Misha's route to the natural end at the conclusion of phase 2. I don't feel like I missed out on anything, and it only required me to play less than 10 hours over and above what I'd already played anyway. And I feel rewarded for having done so — I have a deeper understanding of the story as a whole, and particularly the characters.

So that's Ar Tonelico — a really, really excellent JRPG and surprisingly thought-provoking if you can look past the notorious innuendo (of which there isn't anywhere near as much as people make out). It's also in possession of I think the best soundtrack I think I've ever heard in a JRPG… though I'm about to start Ar Tonelico 2 as I type this, so I may well be revising that statement in the near future!

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The highlight of the game by a long shot is still the Dive system, which I believe I mentioned in a previous post on the subject. Just in case I didn't, though (I'm tired and can't be bothered to go back and check, all right?) let me explain once again.

One of the key plot concepts in the Ar Tonelico universe is the relationship between humans and the Reyvateil, the latter of whom are the only ones able to make use of "Song Magic". A Reyvateil and her partner, known as an Oracle, share a close personal bond — so close, in fact, that it's possible for her Oracle to "Dive" into her mind and explore the worlds inside her imagination, known as her Cosmosphere.

Note that I said "worlds," not "world" — each Reyvateil has multiple similar but not identical worlds inside her head, each of which reflect a particular facet of her personality, something she has had to deal with (or repress) and struggles she is yet to overcome. As the Oracle delves deeper into her mind, the worlds become increasingly strange and twisted, and the problems that the Reyvateil must overcome more deep-seated and difficult to resolve.

Inside the Cosmosphere, the player character Lyner comes across numerous different incarnations of the Reyvateil he's diving into. On one level, she might be a shrine maiden who wants to protect people, but who is anxious about being able to do so. On another, she might be a schoolgirl with no faith in her abilities, who believes she'll never be able to live up to her peers. On another, she might be sexually aggressive and dominant. Sometimes incarnations from other levels put in an appearance, too, and their interactions reflect the Reyvateil's inner struggles between clashing emotions and ideals.

Alongside the incarnations of the Reyvateil, Lyner also encounters characters whom he (and the Reyvateil) know in the real world. But there's often something a bit "off" about these characters, something not quite right. It transpires that these projections of familiar characters reflect how the Reyvateil sees them, not necessarily how they actually are. This provides yet another interesting perspective on the Reyvateil's personality — not only do we see her internal struggles, but also her own attempts to deal with how she thinks other people see her.

I love this kind of thing. It's one of the reasons I adore Persona 3 and particularly 4 so much. Games are a brilliant medium through which the inner workings of a character's mind can be explored, and games that do just that are among my most fondly-remembered titles — stretching right back to The Adventures of Alundra on PS1 and its "nightmare dungeons". Ar Tonelico is certainly scratching that itch very nicely — and it helps massively that the characters involved are entertaining and fun to be around. Plus it seems there's a very obvious "split" just after the halfway point, so after I've finished it once I can go back and focus on the other Reyvateil to see what her subconscious has to say about herself. Looking forward to it.

I haven't touched on the series' endearing use of innuendo, which is seemingly the main thing it's known for, but I'll save that discussion for another day — perhaps when I've played the apparently increasingly-shameless sequels!

(Comics back tomorrow.)

The post 1126: Ah! Tonelico appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Strange name aside… yes, I've been playing the PS2 game Ar Tonelico: Melody of Elemia, hereafter referred to as Ar Tonelico to save me typing out that whole title every time. I knew literally nothing about this game prior to firing it up for the first time, but had been urged to do so by a friend over at the Squadron of Shame who has been accompanying on my journey through the oddest and quirkiest undiscovered treasures that the Japanese role-playing game genre has to offer. I promised him that the next game I played after I completed the crap out of Hyperdimension Neptunia mk2 would be Ar Tonelico, so here I am.

So what's it all about? Well, if you live in the UK, don't count on any help from the box or manual — the game never saw an official release in the UK despite being fully-translated into English, and instead your best bet for a copy these days is Italy, of all places. It's rather peculiar to think of Italians playing JRPGs, but there you go.

Anyway. Ar Tonelico initially appears to be a rather straightforward JRPG with a floppy-haired, youthful protagonist wandering around the world seeking adventure on a Grand Quest to Save the World. And on the one hand, it is. On the other hand, however, it does a lot of very, very interesting things that have really made me sit up and pay attention, even only about four hours into the whole experience.

For starters, there's a deep crafting system to explore. This is a game from Gust, developers of the Atelier series (which I am yet to try but have all the PS3 incarnations of on my shelf), and their specialism is deep crafting systems. In Ar Tonelico's case, it takes the form of the peculiarly-named "Grathmeld" system, in which you have to find recipe cards around the world and in shops, find ingredients inside chests, shops and monsters and then fuse them all together using crystals. When you craft, you get a fun little animated sequence of your character Lyner assembling whatever item it is, then if it's a new item he has a fun little conversation with one of the other characters about it, and a discussion often ensues about what the new item should be called. You can't freely rename items, which is a shame, but you do get to choose between a couple of different suggestions, and the game then tracks which character named which item, which is a nice touch.

Perhaps the most bewildering aspect of the game is its battle system. For the first hour or two, it's a very conventional turn-based "attack, magic, item" affair. But as soon as you encounter the "Reyvateil" characters, also known as Song Maidens, things start to get interesting.

Reyvateils sit in the back row of your party and don't follow the usual turn order. Instead, they act like a mage or priest in an MMO, sitting behind the front row of fighters charging up spells (or Songs, in this case) to have various effects, while at the same time the front row is knocking seven shades of shit out of the enemy and ensuring the Reyvateil doesn't take damage. A strong focus is placed on the party's "harmonics" with the Reyvateil, with this represented by a bifurcated horizontal meter at the bottom of the screen. The left half of the bar fills when the front row lands successful attacks and drops when they take damage. The right half of the bar fills as the Reyvateil chants to charge up a spell. Should the two halves meet, the whole party goes up a "Harmonic level", which means the Reyvateil's spellcasting speeds up and the front row gain access to stronger attacks. The Harmonic level at the end of the battle also determines what rewards you receive.

There's another consideration in that system, which is the cap on the Harmonic level. At the start of each battle, you can only level the Harmonics up to 2; to increase the cap, you have to let the Reyvateil unleash her magic and deal enough damage for a separate bar to fill and open up the next level cap. The trouble is, at least early in the game, most enemies are absolutely obliterated by the Reyvateil's Song Magic, so you'll sometimes find yourself deliberately pulling your punches a little in an attempt to earn some higher Harmonic levels. It's an interesting system that will doubtless come into its own in more difficult battles later.

By far my favorite part of the game so far, however, has been the "Dive" system, where the protagonist Lyner is able to enter the subconscious of a Reyvateil and learn more about her. A Reyvateil's subconscious is split into ten distinct levels, each of which is made up of a number of different locations. Lyner must spend "Dive Points" earned through battle — which represent the trust the Reyvateil holds in him — to trigger various events, with revelations and strange happenings often unlocking new spells for the Reyvateil to cast in the real world. These vary from simple attack magic to "green magic" spells which can be cast outside of battle, usually to solve puzzles.

In gameplay terms, it's an elaborate means of unlocking abilities. But in story terms, it's a way of literally doing a deep dive into a character and discovering their innermost secrets. The scenes I've seen already have been heartfelt, interesting and help make me interested in the character. I'm very intrigued to see how they continue as the game progresses, as it's clear that the whole point of the "Dive" system is to help the Reyvateil come to terms with repressed memories and emotions in a vaguely similar manner to Persona 4's "Midnight Channel" — or perhaps just to peek in on some embarrassing things they'd rather forget about.

At four hours in, that's about all I can say so far, but I'm enjoying it a great deal. It looks super-dated — it's in 4:3 aspect ratio running on the PS2 and it pretty much looked like a PS1 game in the first place — but none of that matters to me. It is worth noting that it has an astonishingly good soundtrack, and that the English dub appears to be handled by the entire cast of Persona 3, which is fine by me — if a little odd to hear voices I recognise playing characters I'm less familiar with. (If you're wondering why I'm not playing with the Japanese voices, which are also included on the disc, it's because the FMV sequences in the game use the English voices, and it would be somewhat jarring to go back and forth between the two. The game also isn't fully-voiced, either, so it doesn't make as much difference as it would have in, say Hyperdimension Neptunia mk2.)

I'll be sticking with this one, then — though I may well be splitting my time between it and the Gamecube version of Fire Emblem when that eventually arrives. (The new 3DS version isn't out here until April, and I'm told I should play the Gamecube version before the Wii version that I scored for a song when Game was in trouble a while back.)

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It was a really interesting game on the whole, and one that clearly knew its (small, niche) audience very well. I found it particularly interesting that instead of making a direct sequel to the first game, which apparently sold pretty well in Japan but bombed over here due to appalling review scores, they instead chose to reboot the setting and characters, creating a game which newcomers could happily start with but which those who played through its predecessor could appreciate on a deeper level. Neptunia mk2 wasn't a retelling of the first game's story — it was a completely new tale that pretty much assumed the first game didn't happen. This was a little jarring at first, as characters showed up whom I thought should know each other having played the first game, and the characters IF and Compa were obviously retconned to be childhood friends. Over time it ceased to matter, though, and it became clear that Neptunia mk2 was intended to be taken on its own merits without the baggage of its predecessor — a sensible choice, I'm inclined to think.

Besides proving to be a good jumping-on point for the series (the physical package's apparent rarity aside), Neptunia mk2 also dialed back its reliance on rather forced game and anime references for its humour, instead opting to focus on its distinctive and entertaining (if rather archetypal) characters. The one notable exception to this was in the game's "true ending" path, where there's a wonderful scene shortly before the final boss that features the "older sister" characters (meant to personify the seventh-generation consoles plus the ditzy Neptune/Sega, who has no idea what she's doing and is more interested in cookies than ruling the world) arguing over whose console is best, while the "younger sisters" (who are really the main characters of the game, and who personify the current-generation handheld systems… and, err, the Game Gear) sit and play Monster Hunter together while talking about how awesome Shenmue was.

A side-effect of the above is that the game's endearing sense of humour can be enjoyed by pretty much anyone, regardless of your knowledge of the video games industry as a whole. Those who have been playing for a long time, however, will appreciate the numerous sly nods and winks throughout — an area called Atari Marsh; a city called Sim City; characters called Cave and Falcom; and enemies that resemble everything from Tetris blocks to Dr Kawashima's freaky floating head from the Brain Age/Brain Training series.

The overall plot, which is essentially an anti-piracy, pro-"reward the creators of the content you enjoy" parable, initially appears to be a bit heavy-handed with its message, but this is nicely subverted by the time the previous game's protagonist Neptune puts in an appearance and berates the other characters for "sounding a bit preachy and stuff". It has a good narrative arc, building to a suitably dramatic conclusion and one of seven different endings — including a shockingly dark one that is quite impressive in its brutality. (Though it could possibly have gone even a bit further than it did.)

One of the most interesting things about it is its female-centric nature. While there's a lot of fanservice in it — within five minutes of starting, there are three quasi-"bondage" scenes; several characters are prone to flashing their panties at every opportunity (and the in-game camera is happy to encourage this); and a number of the "event" pictures feature a childishly amusing "jiggle" feature that… well, you can probably imagine — it's difficult to look on the game as being particularly anti-women.

In fact, it's very positive about a lot of things to do with sex and gender. The whole (enormous) party of playable characters is made up of women, for starters, and while many of these use anime archetypes as the basis for their personality, they're all their own individual characters with their own quirks and ways of interacting with each other rather than being nothing but shallow stereotypes. This team of ass-kicking women doesn't once rely on a man to help them out throughout the course of the entire story — and in fact, the few faceless appearances that men do make throughout the plot tend to depict them as shallow, image-obsessed borderline sex pests, with the exception of the boss character Brave, who is more of a Transformer than a man anyway. (Any good that Brave does for the male gender's representation in the game is immediately undone by Trick, however, who it's not an exaggeration to say is a revolting robotic paedophile, and one of the most delightfully odious characters I've had the pleasure of virtually beating up for a long time.)

There are also no unnecessary romantic scenes in the game, though there's a subtle implication that all the main characters in the story are gay and that there's nothing wrong with this whatsoever. (Because, you know, there isn't.) This doesn't mean lesbian melodrama or anything, either; rather, it's simply accepted that some of these girls like each other a bit more than others, and this is depicted in the way that they interact with one another with obvious tenderness and care. It's clear that these characters and their relationships have been written with genuine affection and a desire to make them believable people rather than just tits and arse, and I came away from the experience feeling like I had a good understanding of who they were, who they got along with the best and who they clashed with. It was one of those experiences where the final credits rolled and I felt like I was going to miss the characters, which is always a good sign.

So that's that. It's all done. No more Neptunia… at least until March, when the third game in the series arrives and I will inevitably become obsessed all over again.

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But I shan't talk too much more about the plot for fear of getting into spoiler territory. I do, however, want to make a point of talking about the game itself a bit more, and reiterating a few things I have previously said about it.

The main thing that I would like to say about it is that it's quite possibly the most fun I've had with a JRPG in ages. It was consistently fun, didn't outstay its welcome (a single playthrough clocks in at under 30 hours on your first time through and is considerably quicker if you New Game+ it up after that) and made use of some great (and quite original) systems. It then wrapped the whole experience in a plot that, while a little preachy at times, provided a great opportunity for the characters and setting to shine and show that the world of Hyperdimension Neptunia was far more than just a one-trick pony of self-referential humour relating to anime and games.

It's a stark contrast to the first Hyperdimension Neptunia; I had a huge amount of fun with the original game, but any time I talk about it I feel the need to add a disclaimer that I'm aware of all its flaws and that it was critically panned on release. And that's at least partly justified; if you don't get into the plot, setting and characters of the first Hyperdimension Neptunia, there's little more than a mediocre dungeon crawler with an interesting combat system underneath — probably not enough to hold the interest of someone who is not fully invested in the experience.

The second installment, meanwhile, is quite simply a good game. While it's still got its cheeky, innuendo-filled self-referential sense of humour intact and its tongue firmly planted in its cheek for most of the way through, it doesn't rely on cheap gags and references alone to carry the experience. Beneath the silliness is a rock-solid JRPG with some really cool mechanics.

Let's start with the combat system. Unlike the previous game, which followed a fairly conventional turn-based system coupled with a Xenogears-style combo-making mechanic, Hyperdimension Neptunia Mk2's battle system brings in some additional tactical elements that really change things up.

In the first game, each character had a set amount of "action points" (AP) to expend on their combos each turn, and various achievements such as breaking an enemy's guard or performing a special "combo link" move would give some of these points back, allowing a single turn to last for longer. You could also switch the currently-active member with one who was in the off-screen "back row" using certain special combo finishers, effectively allowing you a free turn if you were careful about your AP expenditure.

The second game maintains the AP system, but provides a degree more flexibility. Each character has a base amount of AP that top up to full at the start of each turn if they used them all the previous turn, but AP can also "overflow" over their maximum if the character deliberately finishes their turn early. This is a necessary tactic to unleash some of the more effective "EX combos" — special moves triggered by specific button combinations, some of which require more than a full AP bar's worth of AP to use.

Alongside the AP system is a new stat called Skill Points (SP). This is a mechanic in which hitting an enemy and taking damage adds to a bar which gradually counts up to 300. Characters' unique skills — now selectable from a separate menu rather than having to be incorporated into a combo — all cost a particular number of AP and SP to unleash, with the more devastating moves requiring more SP. SP skills vary from powerful attacks on a single enemy to area or line attacks, or buff/healing skills to benefit the party. Protagonist Nepgear and the other "CPU Candidate" characters can also transform into their "Hard Drive Divinity" goddess forms by spending 100 SP, but the remaining SP after the 100 ticks down each turn, and they revert to human when SP runs out completely.

There are three different types of move that can be performed in combat: fast moves hit multiple times and thus build up the SP bar faster, hard moves inflict more damage and are often magical in nature, and breaker moves concentrate on damaging the enemy's "guard" bar, which, when depleted, allows the player characters to do more damage than usual. Fighting effectively is a case of knowing what moves to use when — some enemies are more susceptible to magical hard attacks, for example, while others take more damage from multi-hit combos. Building up a big combo also helps Nepgear and her friends to maintain their goddess forms for longer.

Oh, you can move around in combat, too. It's surprising what a huge difference this makes; the simple addition of a mechanic whereby attacks affect a physical area rather than a specific enemy/character means that positioning is very important.

So that's the combat system. The other interesting mechanic is the "shares" system, which was also present in the first game but never explained at all, despite its manipulation being necessary to attain the "true" ending. The amount of control the game's four "friendly" nations and the antagonist faction have over the game world is reflected by the shares, and forms an interesting (if lightweight) strategic metagame atop the whole experience. There's an overall "world control" chart, which shows which faction has the upper hand — initially the antagonists by a considerable degree — and localised charts corresponding to each nation's capital and smaller, non-interactive towns around their landmass.

You can manipulate the shares by doing quests. Each quest has a sponsor city somewhere on the map — either one of the four capitals or one of each nation's smaller towns — and will increase one faction's shares in that area while depleting another's by the corresponding amount. By manipulating the shares, you can effectively change which faction controls each area, and which area has greater dominance over the world as a whole. It's not always simple, though — sometimes you'll have to run one quest to wrest an area's control away from the antagonists and into its native hands, then another to give these shares to another territory if necessary.

While it may be tempting to simply plough all your efforts into increasing Nepgear's native Planeptune shares as high as possible, this isn't necessarily advisable — controlling more than 55% of the world by a particular point in the story unlocks the aforementioned "Conquest" ending, which is rather traumatic if you're not ready for it!

The shares are used for a number of different purposes. Firstly, they affect various characters' stats — if you're using one of the "goddess" characters from the land of Lastation, for example, increasing Lastation's world share will make these characters stronger while others become weaker. It is possible to keep things nicely balanced if you want to use all the goddesses in your party — you'll just have to eradicate the antagonist's faction altogether to do that.

The second function of the shares is to help determine the ending you get. I've already mentioned the 55% world share that Planeptune requires for the "Conquest" ending; that's by far the hardest one to get, as it involves effectively taking over the other countries through a whole bunch of careful questing. Other endings have less stringent requirements; faction-specific endings simply require that particular capital cities have a strong majority control by their native territory as well as Nepgear having a good relationship with the goddess characters of the area, while the "human" ending requires that you avoid any sort of dominance whatsoever. Finally, the "true" ending, which goes on for a whole extra chapter after the game usually ends, requires that the world is divided up nice and neatly between the four factions, and that the antagonists are wiped out as much as possible.

You'll notice I've barely mentioned the plot at all in this post, and that's because I want to make a point about Hyperdimension Neptunia Mk2 — even without its big-eyed anime girl shenanigans, it would be a rock-solid game. It's a crying shame that so many people I've spoken to won't even consider playing it because of 1) its predecessor's poor reputation and 2) its aesthetic and character design. Hopefully the things I've said in this post have at least piqued your curiosity a little — it's a great game and genuinely well worth your time, and if you don't feel like you can stomach the first in the series (which I maintain is fun and entertaining despite its myriad flaws) it's perfectly accessible to newcomers.

I'll see you in Gamindustri!

The post 1106: Nepgagaga Complete... Mk2 appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

With that in mind, some people have been expressing curiosity about this game after hearing me talk about it, so I am going to use this post in an attempt to share some facts about it that may help you reach a decision as to whether or not you would find it an enjoyable experience. Not everyone will like it, and that's fine — I really enjoyed it, but I recognise its flaws.

So here we go then.

It's roughly 50% visual novel. Story scenes in Hyperdimension Neptunia are selected from a menu rather than occurring naturally during exploring a town or something, and are all presented in a head-and-shoulders visual novel style. In a twist on the usual way in which VNs are presented, however, the portraits are animated — they breathe, change expressions, have lipsyncing and move their heads. It's not quite the same as a fully-animated anime scene (or indeed in-engine cutscenes) but it looks very nice and the art is lovely.

The other 50% is old-school JRPG dungeon crawler. You'll spend your non-story time in Hyperdimension Neptunia wandering through a variety of rather samey dungeons. There are a very limited number of environments, and only a set number of layouts to explore. Objectives are generally either "reach the exit" or "kill the boss", with occasional "collect [x] of [y]". Structurally, it's nothing special, and the "collect [x] of [y]" or "kill [x] of [monster]" objectives are largely dependent on luck, which some may find frustrating. The game is non-linear all the way through, however, meaning if you're struggling on one dungeon (or even the final boss!) you can simply shoot off and do something else for a bit.

There are random encounters. A hangover from the old days of JRPGs, random encounters are the bane of some RPG fans' existence. They are present and correct in Hyperdimension Neptunia. Whether or not you get irritated by random encounters will play a big part in determining whether or not you will have an enjoyable time.

The combat system is GREAT. To counter the potential annoyance of random encounters, the combat system is hugely enjoyable. Taking its cues from Xenogears, each character has a set number of Action Points to spend per turn. Three of the PS3 controller's face buttons are assigned to different attacks (each costing a particular number of AP) by default, and as each character levels up they learn new moves. These moves must then be manually assigned to individual button presses in any of the possible combinations of four buttons that make up a combo. Different moves have different "end bonuses" if placed in the fourth slot of the combo — some allow the combo to continue registering after the fourth button press, others allow the party member to "switch" with one in the back row, effectively granting the player a free turn, and some characters have the magical girl-esque ability to transform. It's great fun setting up and naming your own combos, and there's a pleasing almost puzzle-like element to working out which ones will flow nicely into other ones while still leaving you with enough AP to be effective.

You can customize a whole ton of stuff in combat. You can rename button combos and apply your own images to certain special attacks. Other special attacks that you find throughout the course of the game are all based on old Sega games, allowing you to do things like summon the dude from Altered Beast or Alex Kidd to lay the smack down on your enemies.

There's a really weird item system. Rather than a conventional item system, Hyperdimension Neptunia makes use of a strange "crafting" system in combat to handle healing and the like — you can't heal outside battle, except by leaving or completing a dungeon. There are four crafting materials that you collect and/or purchase, and different combinations of these are required to activate each character's unique "item skills", each of which has a time when it occurs, a trigger condition and a target. For example, a basic healing item skill might be "When damaged and HP is 50% or less, heal 30% of HP in exchange for 5 of one item and 5 of another." The twist is that each character only has a limited number of "item skill points" which can be funneled into any of their item skills — one point equates to a 1% chance that when the condition is fulfilled at the appropriate time, the skill will trigger. For example, the character IF has a skill that will resurrect any fallen party members with 50% HP at the end of her turn, but this is only absolutely guaranteed to happen if you put 100 points into that skill. You can shift these points around at will — even during combat, except in the middle of a combo — and it adds an interesting degree of strategy to an otherwise attack-focused combat system, but it's bizarre, only sort-of works as a concept and will almost certainly piss some people off. I quite liked it by the end of the game, but it takes some adjustment to get your head around.

There's a "skip animation" button in combat. If you're starting to find the endless fighting rather dull, you can simply tap the L2 button to skip any animation, whether it's a regular attack by you or the enemies or a lengthy piece of JRPG "final attack" showboating. This means that you can romp through combats super-quickly if you're not too concerned about watching animations.

There's a bunch of grinding later in the game if you want to get the best ending. There are three endings to the game that are dependent on whether or not you recruit three characters in the story — a "bad" one if you don't recruit any of them, a "good" one if you recruit one or two of them and a "true" one if you recruit all three of them. Getting all three of them involves manipulating a mechanic which is never explicitly explained in the game, and requires replaying a lot of dungeons that are, by that point, far too low-level for you and thus almost insultingly easy. Fortunately, you can make use of the aforementioned "skip animation" button to rip through most of these dungeons in a minute or less.

The in-engine graphics aren't great. While the hi-res visual novel scenes look lovely, the in-game graphics look distinctly PS2ish and suffer from a fairly poor frame rate when compared to their mediocre quality. This is, apparently, fairly common practice for the developers Compile Heart and Idea Factory, and doesn't affect the enjoyment at all, but those who appreciate super-pretty graphics will only find functional visuals here. That said, the animations are nice and the characters all have plenty of personality about them.

The music is annoyingly catchy, but limited. There aren't many different music tracks in the game, which means by the end you may well be tiring of some of them. That said, they are catchy, recognisable themes that you may well find yourself humming along with, and there are multiple battle themes rather than the same one all the way through the game.

The game offers both Japanese and English voiceovers. Both have their merits, though some parts haven't been dubbed into English, meaning they're just text. On the whole, the Japanese voice track is superior in terms of acting quality (though beware the high-pitched voices if that sort of thing bugs you), but it's nice to hear the American voice actor who plays Yukari in Persona 3 again on the English track.

The game is genuinely amusing… if you're a fan of Japanese media and video games. The game prides itself on affectionate lampshading of anime and video game tropes, with the characters regularly breaking the fourth wall to talk about their role in the game. There are also plenty of optional scenes with references to various video games and anime, though some feel a little forced. If you don't like things being very obviously referenced, the humour in this game may not be for you. See also:

The game is stuffed full of innuendo and fanservice. The party in Hyperdimension Neptunia is exclusively female, and male characters throughout are very limited, mostly represented as silhouetted portraits alongside the huge, animated head-and-shoulders shots of the girls. There's a lot of boob-related humour, particularly surrounding the discrepancy in size between several party members' breasts, and a number of comic misunderstandings that initially appear to be somewhat sexual in nature but later turn out to be something far more innocuous. There's also a clearly-underage openly-lesbian character (though it's implied that most of the characters have at least a slight inclination in this direction), you'll see a lot of pantsu-flashing and suggestive positions (see below) over the course of the game, most of the girls wear incredibly impractical outfits (see below), and their boobies bounce on the special "event" pictures that normally accompany a character's first appearance (see below!). It's all fairly harmless and there's nothing outright pornographic; it feels cheeky and light-hearted rather than malicious or exploitative and is certainly no worse than anything seen in popular anime, but some may object to it or find it embarrassing.

There's a bunch of DLC, 90% of which is completely unnecessary. For the true Hyperdimension Neptunia fan, the game carries a wide selection of downloadable content, most of which takes the form of free additional quests that can be added into the game. Most players who download these will be very surprised to discover that a lot of them have recommended levels well into the hundreds, while the level cap in the game is just 99. You can, however, purchase extensions to the level cap to take it right up to 999, along with "boosters" to increase the various characters' stats if you're really struggling. None of these are essential, and these high-level dungeons provide the exact same experience as the rest of the game, so they're really not worth downloading. (If you do want to grind to 999, it will take you roughly the length of the rest of the game put together doing the same dungeon over and over and over again. Methinks someone was having a laugh with this DLC.)

The other 10% of the DLC should probably have been in the game in the first place. There are four pieces of DLC that are worth buying — two "battle tickets" that allow the use of otherwise non-playable party members in combat, and two additional characters who have their own sequence of event scenes. Again, none of these are essential — the additional characters' plotlines tend to be kept fairly separate to the main core of the party, and you get plenty of characters over the course of the main game to fill up your party — but it's curious that these weren't just included on the game disc. (They're not on-disc DLC, either — each is a 100MB+ download.) Given that you can find a copy of the game for not-very-much-money fairly easily these days, I didn't really object to paying a couple of extra quid to see what I might be missing out on — as it happens, they were a nice addition, but I'm not sure I would have missed them if I chose to forgo the DLC.

The characters are memorable and adorable. For all the game's flaws, the thing that kept me coming back over and over again until the very end was the cast. While most of them are recognisable anime archetypes, the self-aware nature of much of the game's humour means that they're not above calling each other out when they're behaving in a particularly stereotypical fashion. The central cast of the ditzy, airheaded Neptune, the pink and fluffy cries-at-the-slightest-provocation girly-girl Compa and the rational, sensible but somewhat tsundere IF complement each other perfectly, and poor old IF, as the "straight man" (well, woman) of the ensemble usually ends up having to deal with the aftermath of all the other characters' idiosyncracies. She's by far the most sympathetic character by the end of the game, but there's something eminently likeable about all the rest of them, too.

So there you go. A list of facts about Hyperdimension Neptunia. Don't go into it thinking it's going to be the best thing ever because you will almost inevitably be disappointed. If you have a lot of patience for what is essentially a combination of an old-school, combat-heavy JRPG and a visual novel, however, there's a highly enjoyable experience with some very memorable characters and some endearingly self-referential humour to be had here. If that sounds like your sort of thing, give it a shot.

I'll be starting the sequel tomorrow, and I understand that's a superior experience. I'll be interested to see quite how different it is.

The post 1098: Nepgagaga Complete! appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Hyperdimension Neptunia revels in the sort of innuendo and playful, childish humour prevalent in a lot of anime, particularly of the moe variety. In many ways, it's quite refreshing to play a game that doesn't really hold back on the boob-related humour, but it's also easy to see how some might take issue with the game and its all-female cast's shenanigans. Having played it for more hours than I'd care to count (the game doesn't include the usual timer seen in most other RPGs) I can say with a fair degree of confidence that the game certainly doesn't mean any harm by all this — it's being bawdy and lewd for the sake of getting a few cheap giggles out of the player (regardless of gender) rather than explicitly "sexy", a few fanservicey "event" pictures and costumes aside.

More importantly, though, said bawdy humour is but a small part of the game as a whole. After a while it just becomes the way things are in that world; part of the aesthetic. The characters all do plenty more than comment on the size of each others' jumblies; they're all actually rather well-realised, if a little reliant on rather conventional anime tropes. (I swear this game has more tsunderes per square foot than anything else I've ever played… b-but it's not like I'm complaining or anything!) That said, the game often lampshades said anime tropes with the characters calling each other on when they're falling into particular stereotypes, and there are several who have occasional surprises up their sleeves.

IF/Iffy/I-chan is a case in point. Initially appearing to be your stereotypical sour-faced textbook tsundere, Iffy quickly reveals herself to be quite an interesting character on the whole, particularly if you pursue the story arcs of the two DLC characters 5pb and Red. In the case of 5pb, we see Iffy acting as a confidante and counsellor to the chronically-shy idol, who is immensely insecure in herself when not hosting her radio show or performing her songs for fans. In the case of Red, we see Iffy humouring a childish girl's fantasies and showing a softer side to her sometimes gruff-seeming exterior. It would be easy for Iffy to tell Red and her "Wifey number 1!" babblings to take a hike, but instead she plays along, even going so far as to award her "charisma points" any time she does something good.

The "goddess" characters are something of an enigma at this point in the story, but it's quite amusing that the grumpiest of all the tsunderes in the whole game is the one supposed to be representing the Nintendo Wii, the happiest and most sunshiney of all consoles. The land of "Lowee" is a fantasy kingdom filled with houses that look like cakes, rainbows, mushrooms and bizarre, surreal happenings, but its ruler is a sour-faced, foul-mouthed young girl who would much rather lock herself in her room and read a book rather than have to deal with any of the events that are transpiring in the world. The PlayStation-themed goddess, meanwhile, is rather Gothic Lolita in her stylings (and very tsundere when in her "CPU" form) while the Xbox goddess is a sleepyhead blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl (anime shorthand for "foreigner") who is addicted to online games.

It's been a pleasure to discover the various layers this game has as I've progressed through it. The dungeon crawling is still very straightforward and unlikely to change significantly for the rest of the game, but the moves the characters are unlocking are becoming increasingly ridiculous, the time-attack dungeons are fun to challenge and the growing party means that I can start to take advantage of interesting mechanics such as the ability to switch party members in mid-combo.

The pacing is such that you never spend too long battling through endless random combats, either; each dungeon is short (if you know what you're doing and skip the excess of the attack animations you can clear each one in 3-5 minutes tops) and you're often rewarded for making progress with additional entertaining scenes between the girls. And as the game's narrative has continued, these characters have started to show that they have been crafted with what seems like genuine affection from their creators. There's a good sense of them being friends with one another, though the various "optional" characters don't put in nearly enough appearances in the story scenes. I guess that's understandable, though. The "core" of the game is the way the three contrasting characters of Nep-Nep, Compa and IF behave around one another; the others are relatively incidental characters whom you just happen to be able to take into batle.

I'm a little under 50% done with the game according to the menus, and I have no intention of stopping until I've finished it. Whether I tackle any of the free DLC dungeons (many of which have obscenely high "recommended levels") remains to be seen, but I certainly intend to see as much of the core game as possible. And then move on to the sequel.

So yes. I laugh in the face of Hyperdimension Neptunia's sub-50 Metacritic score. I'm having a blast, and you can't stop me! MWAHAHAHA!

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I fancied something light-hearted and silly, so I chose Hyperdimension Neptunia. I knew nothing about this prior to starting to play, and just knew that it was rather silly, very Japanese, packed with rather unnecessary fanservice (that I secretly quite enjoy) and not necessarily what you'd call "good" by the traditional definition. However, given that many of the games I've enjoyed most of all over the course of the last year have not been what you'd call "good" by the traditional definition (Nier springs immediately to mind) I was willing to give it a chance.

I think I'm going to like it.

Hyperdimension Neptunia casts you in the role of Neptune, a personification of the cancelled console the Sega Neptune. Cast out of Celestia by her goddess sisters (each of whom represents one of the Xbox, PlayStation and Wii respectively) and forced to fend for herself in the lands of Gamindustri, it's up to her to… well, I don't really know yet, as I haven't got that far and the events in the intro left her with amnesia which she conveniently points out is to help the players understand what is going on. I swear I'm not making any of what I just said up. This is indeed a game that represents the seventh-generation "console wars" as ridiculous anime-style battles between anthropomorphised hardware manufacturers.

Besides the silly premise, which I have a lot of time for, there actually seems to be quite an interesting game under there, too. The game unfolds in several distinct components — visual novel-style storytelling sequences; a "between missions" bit where you can shop, read background information and discover sidequests; and dungeon-crawling. The game isn't really a traditional JRPG in terms of structure — there's no wandering around field screens or towns, for example, and the story scenes all unfold using head-and-shoulders shots of the characters rather than in-engine graphics, like a visual novel rather than a standard JRPG.

Where the interesting gameplay comes in is in the dungeon-crawling component. Structurally, this is very straightforward — you wander around a dungeon finding treasure chests and occasionally getting into random battles. The characters in your party each have "dungeon abilities" that recharge over time that allow them to do different things — Neptune can smash through obstacles, for example, while Compa, a character who appears early on, can trigger tough battles at special summoning zones to temporarily lower the random encounter rate, and IF, another early character, has the ability to lead the way to normally-invisible treasure chests.

The battle system is turn-based, but makes use of an "ability points" system, whereby each character has a certain number of points that they can spend on their turn. Each move they do costs ability points, and up to four moves can be chained together into a combo. Certain moves allow the combo to continue registering with second, third, fourth sets of four button pushes, and the longer a combo goes on for, the better.

It's this combo system that provides some rather daunting complexity to the battle system. You're not limited to the basic skills the game provides for you. Rather, you can redefine pretty much any combination of four buttons to perform any of the character's unlocked skills to create custom combos. Some skills are learned through levelling up, others through acquiring CD-Rs and CD-R/Ws with skill information on. CD-Rs have preset skills; CD-R/Ws have customizable skills that you can rename and visually tweak by importing an image from your PS3's photo library. So yes, you can have a spell that summons, say, Twilight Sparkle to kick some ass. This is, as they say, awesome. And hilarious. It also gives people an actual reason to load some images into their PS3's photo library, which is surely worthy of praise.

So thus far it seems like an interesting game, albeit one with more than a few flaws. On the technical front, the frame rate and graphics aren't all that great (though the visual novel scenes look lovely and feature animated characters); the dungeons look like they might be a bit "samey" over time; and the game doesn't do a great job of explaining its more complicated aspects in detail. But, for me anyway, part of the joy in this sort of thing is in discovering the hidden secrets for oneself and working out just what the fuck is going on.

It's early days yet, but I've enjoyed what I've seen so far. Let's see if it has what it takes to keep me playing in the long run!

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After a bit of a break to play some other stuff, mainly Persona 3: FES, I am back on my Vita and proceeding nicely with Trails in the Sky.

Trails in the Sky, for those who missed the earlier post I made about it, is a role-playing game for the PSP and Vita from Falcom. It also happens to be one of the best role-playing games I've played in recent memory, for a diverse array of reasons, some of which I've already talked about and others of which I will touch on today.

Plot-wise, Trails in the Sky isn't your conventional JRPG. I'm over 30 hours in now and there's been no trace of any villain wanting to take over the world, call down a meteor, kompress time [sic],  sit inside a mountain going "MWAHAHAHAHA" or indeed any of the other things that JRPG villains typically want to do. In fact, I'd be hard-pushed to identify a single "villain" as yet — there have been villainous groups and individuals, sure, but not a single character that I'd particularly identify as a specific "antagonist". No-one with silvery-white hair flowing down their back; no-one with a good line in evil laughs; no "evil empire" to fight back against. The closest we've had is a few men clad in black, and they're clearly working for someone.

While this may cause you to worry about the game being directionless — what's an epic RPG without an antagonist taunting you throughout making that final boss smackdown all the more satisfying? — in actual fact the opposite is true. The focus may be different, but there's most definitely a plot with direction and good pace going on here.

The focus in this case is the relationship between the two lead characters Estelle and Joshua, foster siblings and a classic case of a "will they, won't they" relationship that will undoubtedly come to smooches by the end of the game's 50-hour quest. The main thrust of the game's story is the pair's journey around the game world, training their abilities and learning more about themselves, each other and the way they feel about one another. Third and fourth party members come and go, but Estelle and Joshua are permanent fixtures, with the player taking direct control of Estelle for the vast majority of the game.

Estelle is a great lead character, largely because she's not a traditional female protagonist. She may be pretty cute visually — as a redhead/brunette with twintails, she's seemingly designed to appeal specifically to me — but personality-wise, she's certainly far from demure, cute or helpless. She's spunky, loud, opinionated, brash, sarcastic and quick to anger. At the same time, she doesn't deny her feminine side to herself — even if she seemingly tries to hide it when others are around. There are a number of scenes, particularly late in the game, where she tries to come to terms with her own feelings towards Joshua that give us some interesting insight into what she's really thinking behind her slightly-abrasive facade.

The side-effect of Estelle's somewhat tomboyish nature when she's around other people is that said other people tend not to treat her in a particularly "girlish" manner, often deriding her for not particularly conforming to gender stereotypes and acting in a "mannish" or "boyish" manner. She takes it in her stride throughout, often swiping such comments aside with a sarcastic rebuttal or two of her own, and you get the impression that she is someone who is thoroughly comfortable in who she is — or at least comfortable with the "public face" she shows to people. Despite her self-assuredness, though, a sure-fire way to make Estelle skittish and nervous is to bring up the possibility of her getting together with Joshua, which in many cases makes her literally want to run away or furiously deny any such accusations, even if it's blatantly obvious that she's thought about it more than once in her life.

I'm looking forward to seeing the game through to its conclusion. It's structured very nicely in that you always feel like you're doing something, and grinding has been absolutely non-existent so far. Wandering monsters provide relatively trivial amounts of experience points, and are primarily used to acquire the "Sepith" gems used to craft new special ability items called Orbments, and if you're that way inclined, you can race through most of the game without stopping to have random encounters at all if you don't want to — though you may find yourself struggling to acquire better spells if you do so.

In short, it's nice to play a JRPG that focuses on the good things about the genre — exploration, discovery, questing, character development and narrative — and doesn't force players to live with frustrating and outdated conventions like grinding. If you're an RPG fan toting a PSP or Vita, you should consider Trails in the Sky an essential purchase, as it is a fine example of how the genre is alive, well and more than happy to not follow the traditional Final Fantasy "OMG WORLD IS ENDING" route. (That's not to say that doesn't have a place, of course — I still love saving the world, but I'm well aware many others are sick of it.)

Check out the official website to find out more — and I believe there's a sequel inbound at some point in the near future, too.

The post 1075: Those Trails in the Sky Get Longer appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

The Answer is a curious beast. All the while I was playing it, I had a big question in my mind, appropriately enough. That question was "should this exist?"

It's a fair question. Does it need to exist? I certainly wasn't unsatisfied with the way Persona 3's original story ended, but I was also excited by the prospect of it continuing, which is why I immediately picked up a copy of Persona 3 FES as soon as it came out, despite having bought the original at full price. (Both are still on my shelf. And yes, it has taken me this long to finally get around to actually beating FES. For those who aren't keeping track, FES came out in 2008. It is now nearly 2013.) I was excited by two things: firstly, the prospect of a "director's cut" of the main Persona 3 story, and secondly, by an additional 20+ hours of gameplay that resolved more than a few unanswered questions posed by the ending.

On balance, I think I am glad that The Answer exists, because the story that runs through it and particularly its ending are very satisfying — at least, they are if you've played through all of The Journey beforehand. I just wish that the execution was better.

It's sort of difficult to imagine how they could have done it differently, however. The core concept of The Answer is that the party have trapped themselves in the situation they're in through their own regrets and desires, which means that they're literally stuck in the same place at the same time on the same day until you beat it. This means none of the awesome "life sim" aspect of Persona 3 — no going out and going to school, no balancing whether or not you should go to Track Team or Music Club after school, no hanging out with the drunken old monk in the bar in the evening, no singing karaoke to build up your Courage statistic. Just dungeons. Fighting. Lots of fighting.

I like Persona 3's combat system. (I prefer Persona 4's ability to let you take direct control over all your members, but I still like Persona 3's.) There's nothing fundamentally wrong with the idea of an add-on campaign involving a whole bunch of fighting using what is a very good JRPG combat system. However, what is wrong with The Answer's gameplay is that it is regularly cheap, unfair and controller-flingingly frustrating, particularly when it comes to boss battles, and especially later in the game.

A key part of the Persona 3 combat system is learning the various weaknesses of enemies and then exploiting them to knock them down. Knocking all the enemies in an encounter down at the same time allows the entire party to unleash an "All-Out Attack" for massive damage, so generally speaking your aim in any battle is to knock down the enemies as efficiently as possible to trigger one of these, as they will usually if not finish the battle immediately, they will certainly tip the scales in your favour.

Here's the annoyance with The Answer's bosses, though — many of them have these weaknesses as in The Journey, but they also have passive abilities that allow them a not-insignificant chance of automatically avoiding any attack with the attributes they are weak to. For example, in one encounter there are three enemies — one is weak against fire, another is weak against ice, another is weak against wind. The one who is weak against fire has the "Evade Fire" skill, which means that on a significant number of occasions when you attack it with fire and attempt to knock it down, you will simply miss. The other two also have the corresponding "Evade [x]" skills, making it very difficult to actually knock them over and deal damage. I'm all for a bit of a challenge factor, but because these mechanics are so heavily based on luck rather than skill or strategy, it just felt incredibly cheap any time I died because of them.

To add insult to injury, The Answer's final boss, while spectacular to look at as all good final bosses should be, was almost insultingly easy to beat, making the big finale more of a test of patience more than anything else. Actually, I can't be too mad about this, because if I had to repeat the cutscenes leading up to that final battle as I had to repeat the cutscenes leading up to numerous other boss battles on a number of occasions earlier in the game, I would have probably been very annoyed. As it happened, I was able to take it down in one attempt, meaning the story kept flowing nicely at the moment when it needed to be pacy.

So after completing the whole shebang I am left with somewhat mixed feelings. On the one hand, I am happy that I saw the story end conclusively. I am satisfied that I successfully beat a very difficult game. But at the same time I am a little annoyed that a game as brilliant as Persona 3 has been slightly soured in my memory by the amount of annoyance The Answer gave me.

Am I glad The Answer exists? Yes, I think I am. Will I ever play it again? No fucking way!

The post 1070: Victory and Answers at Last appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Persona 3's biggest strength is also one of the reasons why I imagine an awful lot of people won't finish it: its length. Having played The Last Story earlier this year, I'm very much of the opinion that JRPGs don't have to be incredibly long to be tell satisfying stories, but in the case of Persona 3 and its sequel, both of which are somewhere in the region of 85-100 hours in length, I can't help but think that a lot of the respective stories' impact would be lost if they decided to reign things in a bit and keep them snappy.

Persona 3, for those who haven't played it, takes place over the course of a school year in Japan. You start in April, increasing amounts of Bad Shit comes to pass as the year progresses and you eventually finish either on New Year's Eve with a bad ending or on January 31st with a good ending. And you're expected to play through all the days in between, with only a couple of exceptions.

A day in Persona 3 typically consists of getting up, going to school (assuming it's a school day), perhaps answering a question or two in class, hanging out with friends after school then either going dungeon-crawling, studying or socialising in the evening. The format occasionally gets shaken up with public holidays (and Sundays) when you don't have school to worry about, and there's a couple of trips out of the game's main Japanese town setting at specific points in the story, but for the most part you are living the life of a Japanese teenager, albeit one who fights monsters after midnight.

It's a long, slow slog through the game's days, in short, but it's only through dealing with this that you truly come to respect the sacrifices the game's main cast has made in the name of trying to build a better world and beat back the darkness. Sometimes you really want to hang out with that hot girl who seems to have taken an interest in you, but instead you know that you should go shopping with the nice policeman who sells you various sharp implements, then go climbing the mysterious tower that appears after midnight and start twatting some Shadows in the face. Having to find this optimum "work-life balance" means that the time you do actually get to spend with your in-game friends becomes more precious — particularly as each of the "Social Link" stories that is attached to each person ends up being interesting and often emotional.

By the time you reach the game's final battle, you have been through Hell and back with these characters, both in terms of having to cope with the everyday stresses of teenage life — exams, angst, friendship drama — and in having fought your way through hordes of Shadows to strengthen your party. By the time the final boss appears, you are ready to kick some ass and save the world.

And then the final boss fight takes somewhere in the region of an hour to complete. The game isn't going to let you win so easily. It's not an especially difficult fight if you've prepared appropriately, but it is long — a test of endurance… and of whether or not you remembered to stock up on items before wandering into the dungeon. It's not boring, though — it's paced in such a way that it shakes things up regularly, requiring you to change and adapt your strategies accordingly, particularly as you get closer and closer to final victory. By the time you finally take down the boss and get onto the "home straight", as it were — and there's actually a surprising amount still to see even after you've kicked its ass — you are physically and mentally exhausted, just like the characters, and the game knows this, hitting you with some intensely emotional scenes while you're weakened.

Persona 3, then, uses its length to its advantage. While there is plenty of stuff in there that is clearly designed to allow masochistic players to inflate their play time yet further (I didn't beat the Reaper, for example, and I seriously doubt I will ever see, let alone beat the "Ultimate Opponent" secret boss that only appears in New Game+) for the most part, it's good stuff that allows you to immerse yourself in the small but very well-realised game world. You're either doing teenagery things, or you're fighting Shadows. Fight too many Shadows and you'll exhaust yourself, meaning you'll need to make sure you get some rest before you do anything strenuous — but while you recover, all your friends are waiting for you.

There's always something to do and someone to see, and meanwhile the clock is ticking ever-onwards towards an inevitable conclusion. As time passes, everyone's life goes on — even the incidental NPCs sitting around in various locations all have their own stories to tell that progress gradually as the seasons turn. Will the shy girl ever talk to the boy she's stalking? Will the girl who's obsessed with Mitsuru ever confess her feelings? Will the elementary school student at the station ever stop being a jerk to her obviously-nervous new teacher?

"Bonds of people are the true power," runs the tagline to the Persona 4 anime, and it's right. Both Persona 3 and 4 are what they are because of the people in their respective game worlds. After 80+ hours with them, it's difficult to not feel a sense of attachment to them — even the most seemingly-innocuous incidental character. This sense of "belonging", of immersion in a game world with realistic, believable characters — that, right there is why I love these games so much.

On to The Answer next, which I know nothing about beyond the fact it's supposedly very difficult and wraps up the ambiguities left by The Journey's ending. I'm very intrigued to see how it concludes for real, so doubtless you can expect another post on the subject after another 20 hours of gameplay or so.

The post 1004: Thwarting The Fall appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I've finally beaten Logic into submission and got it up and running on my new Mac, which means I've finally been able to edit the most recent Squadron of Shame SquadCast. Here it is:

(Direct link for those who can't see the inline player)

The subject of the podcast is Nier, an action RPG for PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 published by Square Enix and developed by Cavia. You may recall I was enthusing about this game quite a lot back in early May, and that enthusiasm was what sparked the desire for us to do this particular podcast.

Nier is a fascinating game. Whether or not it's actually a good one is up for debate somewhat, but it's certainly a unique experience in the console space. In fact, to call it an "action RPG" as I did above is a gross injustice, since the game also incorporates elements of bullet hell shooters, text adventures, 2D platform games and open world quest-based "traditional" RPGs. The only games I can think of that offer a comparable experience include Space Rangers 2 and King Arthur: The Role-Playing Wargame, both for PC, and both offering wildly divergent experiences from Nier, but both taking this "kitchen sink" approach to genre blending.

Nier also distinguishes itself by having a mature plot that is worth following through. Sure, it's pure fantasy, but it's good, compelling fantasy — and the fact that the game was released as part of a much larger opus that spans several forms of media is very much apparent if you take the time to read up on it using sources such as Grimoire Nier. The game can most certainly be enjoyed in its own right without exploring any of the additional background material, but it becomes a far richer experience once you delve into the lore of the world — and, for that matter, the story of the game's creation. It's very much an example of a game whose world and characters are "bigger" than the game they inhabit, much like an author who plans out their characters by writing scenes for them that never appear in the book in question.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about Nier, though, is its treatment of "New Game+" — the ability to go back and replay it after you've beaten it once. In many role-playing games, taking on a New Game+ is simply a matter of starting again with all your awesome items, equipment and buffed-up characters from the end of your first playthrough and then romping through the game slicing off heads with gay abandon and nary a fear for your own safety. Nier certainly does this — on subsequent playthroughs, boss fights that were once challenging are an absolute joke — but it's not the most important point.

Without getting into spoilers, Nier's New Game+ gradually adds new layers of complexity and nuance to the plot, calling into question the actions that you undertook without even thinking in your first playthrough. The player is given additional context with which to understand exactly what is really going on — and this manages to seamlessly pull the player's perspective around between several different characters and conflicting viewpoints while still keeping them in direct control of the titular hero. It's a very interesting experiment in a variation on the "unreliable narrator" trope, and one which could really only be done so effectively in an interactive form of entertainment such as a video game. It also makes Nier's New Game+ something that is actually worth doing rather than something which is just there for a bit of fun — and it's worth noting that it makes it abundantly clear when you've done absolutely everything there is to do by actually deleting your save file when you're done. In the context of the game, this somewhat dramatic action makes a great deal of sense (though you are asked to confirm whether you're sure you're okay with this five times) — but can you imagine what would have happened if, say, Mass Effect had pulled something similar? It would have been brilliant, but those complaining about the game's ending would have been even more furious than they are.

The final thing worthy of note about Nier is that it takes no more than 40 hours to do absolutely everything in the whole game including three New Game+ runs (an utterly stupid real-time farming minigame aside, which can be easily gamed by dicking around with your console's clock), making it eminently friendly to the busy lifestyles we grown-ups tend to lead these days.

So if you've never given Nier a shot, give it a chance. You might be pleasantly surprised. And if you have played and loved Nier — or, indeed, have no intention of ever playing it, ever — be sure to listen to our podcast for some in-depth discussion on this remarkable game.

The post #oneaday Day 866: NierCast appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I've been playing Nier, a game I've been meaning to try for absolutely ages and struggled to find a copy of. As it happens, my local second-hand games emporium had a copy, allowing me to sample its delights. Like many titles I've wanted to try for a while, I've managed to go into the experience with a relative sense of "beginners' mind", allowing me to enjoy it as if it were "new", so to speak. This, I feel, is a key part of the Nier experience, since it continually throws you curveballs as you play, remaining constantly surprising.

At its heart, Nier is a simple action RPG, but to call it that is to do it a gross injustice. The hack-and-slash combat may be a bit simple, but when combined with the variety of bizarre magical attacks Our Hero gains the capability to perform over the course of his adventure, the gameplay is shaken up regularly enough to keep you questioning exactly what sort of game it is that you're really playing.

So far I've experienced open-world "run around and kill shit to get their stuff" gameplay; lots of "fetch quests"; side-on platforming sections; top-down Zelda-style sections; fishing; "bullet hell" shooter sections… and I have little doubt that the game has further surprises along the way.

Nier subscribes to the "less is more" viewpoint by taking place in a relatively limited geographical area. Within these relatively few zones, however, lots of things happen. Locals have their own little questline stories to follow, many of which end in surprisingly bleak tragedy. Some people drop a few hints about Nier's curious far-future setting. It's quite a believable world at times, and your attachment to it as a player grows as Our Hero tries his very best to Do Good.

One of my favourite things about the game so far has been the stark contrast between the random errands you find yourself doing for locals and the more intense, "main story" stuff which tends to culminate in ridiculously over the top boss fights. For the best part of 10 hours, for example, I barely gained any experience points whatsoever, instead choosing to pursue quests. In the process I acquired plenty of items and money, but most importantly I learned a great deal about the world of Nier and its characters. It's a vaguely similar approach to what The Last Story does with its completely optional, often seemingly reward-free sidequests on Lazulis Island. By immersing yourself in the lives of the characters going about their day to day life, their struggles carry greater meaning when things start to get a bit crazy.

The writing is worthy of note, too. Early in the game, Our Hero acquires a sentient magical book known as Grimoire Weiss, and there are some extremely well-scripted sequences between the two of them prompted by all sorts of things — starting a new quest, going fishing, coming across a new location. The very British-seeming sarcasm of Weiss is juxtaposed beautifully with Our Hero's stoic determination — but Nier himself isn't above the odd sarcastic comment. "Try not to get crushed!" yells Weiss during an intense boss battle that carries the risk of being crushed. "That's good advice, thanks," spits Our Hero sarcastically as he rolls to escape the aforementioned fate.

I'm given to understand that there are numerous endings to the game requiring several playthroughs to fully appreciate, so I'm going to reserve full judgement and further comment on the game until I've done exactly that. I will say, however, that I am having a blast with it so far, and am even enjoying running back and forth doing errands for the people of Nier's world.

Expect further bulletins as events warrant!

The post #oneaday Day 829: Nier: Some Early Impressions appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I read this piece on Game Informer tonight. It made me cross. If you can't be bothered to read it yourself, the gist of the piece is that Xenoblade Chronicles, one of the best games of the generation (in my humble opinion, anyway) "deserved better than what [Nintendo] forced [it] to be."

To be fair to the author Chris "Warcraft" Kluwe, he does commend the game's strengths: its excellent world, its inventive, creative ideas; even going so far as to say that the game had the potential to be "this generation's Final Fantasy VII". But to say that the Wii "laughs at [developer MonolithSoft's] dreams… and flushes them down the toilet of GameCube-era hardware Nintendo likes to call cutting edge" is a spectacularly blinkered viewpoint.

The fact is, it's unlikely that Xenoblade Chronicles (and its spiritual successors The Last Story and Pandora's Tower) would ever have been released had it not been for the Wii. The Wii's lower demands in terms of asset production means that a sprawling, ambitious game such as Xenoblade Chronicles can be produced on a fraction of the budget of an HD title. Even then, though, MonolithSoft had to cut corners; the "gasping fish mouths bobbing up and down through beautifully crafted dialogue" that Kluwe refers to are a symptom of this.

The sad fact is that Japanese role-playing games are not the unstoppable juggernaut they once were. Where once they were a system seller, now they are a niche interest at best. The "mainstream" has shifted well and truly to the West; even Square Enix's venerable Final Fantasy series is seen as little more than a particularly well-polished curio these days. Big-budget role-playing titles for HD consoles such as Lost Odyssey and, to a lesser extent, titles like Nier (aside: which I'm currently playing and is awesome) struggle to find a substantial audience (compared to "triple-A" titles, anyway) and, by extension, the ability to recoup the enormous spend necessary to craft a beautiful world in high definition and 5.1 surround sound. So developers and publishers simply aren't taking the risk because it's, well, too risky.

But the Wii gives them a platform to make these titles without having to spend as much money and time on the creation of assets. It's not a case of Nintendo "shackling an obviously talented team like MonolithSoft to the ball and chain of the Wii because [they] want to sell waggle" (for just one of many things wrong with that statement, Xenoblade Chronicles features no waggle whatsoever). It's a case of Nintendo giving talented teams the opportunity to do what they do best and then release them to a market of enthusiasts who are still clamouring for these titles. Yes, the Wii has a lot of waggle-based crap. But it also has an impressive library of Great Games That Absolutely Fucking No-One Has Ever Heard Of Ever Because They're A Bit Weird Or Nichey And Have 480p Visuals.

Just because JRPGs don't sell well compared to titles like Call of Duty and Mass Effect doesn't mean that no-one wants to play them any more. In fact, the audience for the genre is probably actually the same size that it's ever been; the difference is that the Call of Duty players have sprung up around them and outnumber them considerably. Given the simple choice between making something that will make fans happy and something that will make a metric fuck-ton of money, the vast majority of publishers will take the latter option. That's simply "good business", and there's nothing wrong with that at all — developers gotta eat, after all. But to deride Nintendo for providing a platform eminently suited to developers who actively want to create niche titles for console — games which often provoke intense passion among their fans (as you can probably tell from this post) — is simply ridiculous.

It's an age-old adage in the games industry that graphics do not maketh the game. Never has it been more true than in this strange period where we have two HD consoles and one SD system. Would Xenoblade Chronicles, The Last Story and Pandora's Tower have been better games had they been released on the Xbox 360 or PlayStation 3? Absolutely not. (Pandora's Tower, in fact, would have been considerably inferior due to the fact it actually makes good use of the Wii's unique control scheme.) They would have been better-presented games, sure, but the core gameplay in all three cases is brilliant — and, to add insult to injury, the graphics for all three aren't even what you could possibly describe as "bad" — just low-resolution. There's a difference — sadly, one seemingly lost on many reviewers who describe their visuals as "muddy" or "poor" and, in many cases, knock a point off the final score in punishment. I defy anyone who has stood on the Makna Falls overlook in Xenoblade Chronicles, seen the beautiful afternoon sunlight and shadows in the castle courtyard in The Last Story or stood atop the Observatory gazing towards the Thirteen Towers at sunset in Pandora's Tower to say that these games have "poor" visuals.

As such, I implore those of you who are gamers to stop caring so much about titles having pin-sharp graphics, fully orchestrated soundtracks and a voice cast of Major Hollywood Talent. Yes, these things make games more impressive and exciting to watch and play, but given the choice between a world made up of nothing but HD first-person shooters starring Morgan Freeman (with the world's population of racist teenagers on backing vocals via Xbox Live) and a world where I can play 100+ hours of Xenoblade Chronicles in 480p with a selection of unknown (but excellent) British voice actors, I know which I'd rather spend my time in.

That's just me, though. I illustrate my blog with stickmen, so take my word with a pinch of salt if you wish.

(Edit: Here's an unedited picture of Pandora's Tower running in 480p taken with my iPhone camera. Looks pretty lovely to me.)

The post #oneaday Day 828: It's Time to Get Over the Graphics Thing appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

As a European, I was lucky enough to be able to play the Nintendo-published, MonolithSoft-developed Wii role-playing game Xenoblade Chronicles last year. It ended up being my favourite game of 2011, and many North American gamer friends were suitably jealous that I had been able to play it through while they hadn't. I didn't feel too guilty, though, because North America has its own branch of Atlus and doesn't have to depend on other publishers to bring titles like the Persona series over.

But I digress. Xenoblade Chronicles is out tomorrow — April 6 — in North America, and here is why you should play it if you're an American. Or even if you're not.

The Japanese role-playing game genre is often accused of stagnation and a lack of innovation. This is, in fact, not particularly true — even the much-maligned Final Fantasy XIII was trying things which other role-playing titles hadn't attempted before. Okay, they weren't always successful, but it was at least attempting to innovate.

The real issue is actually that for whatever reason, Japanese role-playing games (and, to a certain extent, Japanese-developed games in general) have lost the resonance they once had with the core gamer audience in the West. Players are quick to judge them as clichéd and derivative before moving on to whichever game starring men in armour with guns is the flavour of the week. Specific attempts by Japanese developers to create games that appeal to Westerners end up having limited niche appeal despite their quality (see: Platinum Games' Vanquish, which isn't an RPG but demonstrates the point effectively) or end up being laughable attempts to pander to the Japanese image of what a Westerner supposedly wants (see: The Last Remnant).

Xenoblade Chronicles is a remarkable game because it nails that balance between Western and Japanese sensibilities, making a game that combines the positive aspects of WRPGs (freedom, exploration, a degree of sort-of-non-linearity) with those of JRPGs (stronger storytelling, more memorable, well-defined cast members, a firm sense of being unafraid to continually up the ante). The result is quite brilliant, and a significant step forward for the genre in one possible direction it way wish to take in the future.

The game casts players in the role of Shulk. Initially, he seems like every other teenaged JRPG hero, but a number of aspects make him stand out. He doesn't whine. He's not moody or angsty. He's just a guy, but he has a personality. He has friends, too, who form your early party in the game, and these, too, don't fall into the trap of clichéd character archetypes. This pattern continues throughout the course of the whole game. Even the "small furry thing" character introduced later in the story isn't typically irritating — he's quirky and silly, sure, but his character is defined well, and he proves to be more than just a means through which to provide silly slapstick gags.

The diverse, likeable cast you find yourself travelling with over the course of Xenoblade Chronicles' lengthy adventure provides several highlights to the game experience. Firstly, and most simply, they're a good ensemble cast who help drive the story forward. That's not their only function, however. As you might expect from an RPG, they each have their own role to play (natch) in combat, and finding the best combinations of three characters to take into battle is a key part of the experience. This affects not only your battle effectiveness, but also one of many stats that the game tracks in the background — Affinity.

Affinity is, quite simply, how much characters like each other. Characters with high Affinity with one another fight better alongside each other, but as their relationship develops, they also have the opportunity to participate in numerous "Heart to Heart" events that are scattered around Xenoblade Chronicles' vast world. These short sequences provide the opportunity for two party members — not necessarily including protagonist Shulk — to spend a little alone time with one another and get to know each other a little better. These typically involve multiple-choice conversations, providing the "correct" answers to which will give a big boost to the pair's Affinity with one another. (Giving "incorrect" answers often provides very amusing exchanges and still gives a smaller Affinity boost, however, so you shouldn't feel like you have to reach for the walkthroughs immediately.)

Affinity doesn't just affect combat and unlock Heart to Hearts, however; there's a host of little touches in the game that it affects, most notably during and after combat. Rather than simply yelling individual stock "battle victory" phrases, characters will often have short conversations with one another. This banter between characters is a real highlight of the experience, and while you will have heard everything they have to say a good few times by the end of the game, they remain entertaining and endearing.

Speaking of combat, Xenoblade Chronicles' battle system is a refreshing change from the turn-based systems that Japanese role-playing titles usually adopt. You control a single character out of the three in your active party, and are able to freely move around during combat. You and your party lock on to a single enemy at a time and automatically attack it, though many battles involve multiple assailants. In order to gain the upper hand in battle, it becomes necessary to make use of the unique skills the character under your control has.

Most characters have more skills than it's possible to hold in the "quickbar" at the bottom of the screen, so it becomes possible to customize the way they play to your own personal style. Some skills manage aggro, some attack areas, some provide more damage or inflict status effects when unleashed from beside or behind an enemy. Some skills are dependent on other characters doing things like knocking the enemy down or stunning them, and the AI which controls the other two party members does an absolutely astounding job of keeping up with what you're doing and understanding the strategy you're going for. It's very rare that you will be cursing the game for causing you to fail — more often than not it's a result of you either adopting a poor strategy, or simply needing to go and do something else for a while until you're a little stronger. This doesn't mean you have to resort to grinding, either — inevitably there will be some quests you have missed that you can go back and do, and returning to earlier-visited locations often throws up even more things to do.

Another great thing about the combat is that you can elect to control any of the game's cast in battle, not just Shulk. Each character plays in a significantly different manner to all of the others, so if you find yourself getting bored of the same old skills over and over, simply switch to another character for a brand new experience. Fed up of tanking? Spend some time with Sharla, a ranged character with healing abilities. Or Melia, a magic-user who can summon elementals that either provide ongoing buffs or can be "unleashed" to deal direct damage. Or the aforementioned small furry creature, whose skill names are genuinely hilarious.

Perhaps the strangest but coolest innovation in the combat, however, is the fact that you're occasionally presented with "visions" of the immediate future, usually when a character is either about to die or be afflicted with a debilitating status effect. A countdown timer starts, and you're given the opportunity to either do something to take attention off the enemy's target or warn another party member. If you do the latter, you're able to pick one of the warned character's skills to unleash — usually either a healing or aggro-management skill — and hope for the best. If you do the former, you have until the countdown timer depletes to do something very special, or your party member will suffer their grisly fate. It's a neat system that isn't overused.

Outside of combat, there's plenty to do, too. Exploring each of the game's massive zones rewards you with experience points and uncovers part of the map as you discover each sub-area. There are collectible items scattered around each area at random, with rewards on offer for collecting whole sets. Those who find item-hunting frustrating, however, may instead complete these quests by trading with other non-player characters. There are rare monsters to take down, loot to find, secret locations to discover. Xenoblade Chronicles' world is more than just a pretty backdrop for combat — it's a rich, beautifully-rendered environment in which to spend time, and it looks gorgeous. This may be a Wii title, and it may have been even more lovely to see it in HD, but it doesn't detract from the fact that the hugely-varied vistas you find yourself running and fighting over throughout the course of the game look simply magnificent. There's a waterfall you'll come across partway through the game which is genuinely breathtaking to look at, for example — you'll know it when you see it.

If the game's combat, quests and exploration aren't enough for you, there's also a deep Achievement system to delve into. Since these Achievements aren't online-connected, they're simply there as challenges for you to undertake, and all provide you with experience point rewards. In essence, they're mini-quests (although some will take you the majority of the game to complete) and rarely feel as "gratuitous" as some examples seen on Xbox Live and PSN. Rather, they provide yet another means of getting an enormous amount of entertainment out of an already vast, sprawling title.

This isn't even getting started on the deep crafting system, which allows characters to team up to create enhancements for their weapons and armour, with the results of their collaborative efforts dependent on their Affinity and compatibility with one another. Or the fact that the game allows you to change the time and fast-travel at will, eliminating a lot of the inconvenience and backtracking endemic to the genre. Or the colony-building minigame. Or the fact the voice acting is all British rather than American, giving the game a unique aural aesthetic in a genre typically dominated by whiny teenagers and squeaky-voiced females. Or the fact that when you're all done, you can New Game+ it and do the whole thing again with your levels, Affinity and a suitably broad spread of awesome equipment intact — something I will be doing when North America gets its hands on the game tomorrow.

Xenoblade Chronicles is, in short, a magnificent evolution of the Japanese role-playing game genre. While it's easy to dismiss it as "an offline MMO" or "a Final Fantasy XII wannabe", the reality is something quite different. This is truly a game that is greater than the sum of its already-fantastic parts, and one which will have you bellowing "Now it's Reyn time!" at your friends for months to come.

(Grab yourself a copy soon, though, as this is the kind of game that will get pretty tough to find pretty quick.)

The post #oneaday Day 808: Xenoblade Chronicles is Out Tomorrow, and Here's Why You Should Play It appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Shadow Hearts: Covenant (aka Shadow Hearts II) is, quite simply, a must-play JRPG. Whether you're a devoted fan of the genre or a jaded veteran who decries its supposed lack of innovation in recent years, there is a ton of stuff for you to like in this epic PlayStation 2 title from Nautilus (née Sacnoth).

Let's rewind a moment before we get into specifics. Is it necessary to have played the original Shadow Hearts to appreciate its sequel? As you'll recall, I noted that the previous game hadn't aged hugely well, with its pixelated prerendered backdrops, wooden animations and low-budget voice acting bearing the brunt of the ageing process. It's still a solid game, but those who expect a bit more than a PS1 RPG that runs at 60 frames per second may find themselves suffering from culture shock for a little while — whether or not that culture shock is insurmountable depends entirely on the individual.

To answer the question, though, yes and no. That may be a copout answer, but it's true. Shadow Hearts: Covenant's story stands completely by itself as a self-contained tale, but it also follows on directly from the first game's narrative. There are a number of shoutouts throughout the course of the adventure which refer back to prior events, characters and locations, too, which will delight series veterans. In short, if you can't stomach the old-school sensibilities and aesthetic of the original, you can jump into Covenant without guilt, but those who are willing to play the two games one after the other will have an altogether deeper experience to appreciate.

What makes Covenant a more easily-palatable title than its predecessor, however? Many things, starting with the presentation. Rather than taking the old-school approach of polygonal characters on a prerendered backdrop, Covenant features fully 3D environments, albeit with preset camera angles a la Final Fantasy X. The characters have been infused with a great deal more detail, too, with hair and fur looking particularly good, and some excellent animations thanks to motion capture. Alongside this, the voice acting has been given a kick up the arse, with a full English dub, fully-voiced cutscenes for the more important story scenes and none of the original's corner-cutting. Were it not for the lack of widescreen support, this game wouldn't look out of place today being released alongside titles like Xenoblade Chronicles and The Last Story.

Like its predecessor, Shadow Hearts: Covenant revels in the fact it has an eccentric cast who rarely fall into standard JRPG tropes. While protagonist Yuri initially appears to be the moody "Squall" type, he quickly shows himself to be a deeply-nuanced character who undergoes some significant development over the course of the story. As he's joined by the other cast members, who include a puppeteer, an exotic dancer/fortuneteller/aromatherapist, a female German World War I officer (whose nationality and occupation quickly becomes completely irrelevant) and a fricking wolf among others, it becomes abundantly clear that we're not dealing with a conventional sort of JRPG setup here. To its credit, the game plays things admirably straight all the way through, which makes its more humorous scenes all the more effective — and proves that it's not afraid to make its characters suffer a little along the way in the name of drama. It doesn't descend into exaggerated melodrama at any point, and for the most part resists the temptation to get too wacky. Characters occasionally make a few "fourth wall"-breaking comments, though these are spread far enough apart to be effective and amusing rather than feeling like the game is going "LAUGH, DAMMIT!" A few characters are a little underdeveloped and underused over the course of the story (and one in particular is introduced much too late to give the player a chance to get to know them as well as the others) but this is a relatively minor niggle — those who are most important to the narrative are well-defined, deep, likeable cast members whom it's a pleasure to spend time with.

An RPG often lives or dies by its story, and thankfully Covenant provides a good one that I won't spoil here. But those who play for the joy of discovering things and building up an unstoppable fighting force won't be disappointed, either, for Covenant provides a brilliant combat system that puts many recent titles to shame. Based around the cool "Judgement Ring" system of the original game whereby successful actions are determined by timed button presses, and featuring multi-character combos, an array of wonderfully silly character-unique abilities and a flexible but simple magic system that allows for the detailed customisation of characters, Covenant is a satisfying game to play even during plot downtime. While each "dungeon" only contains maybe three or four different types of enemy tops (plus a boss, usually), combat is such a joy and the encounter rate is so finely tuned that it never becomes a chore. The fact that grinding seems relatively unnecessary if you take a little time to go and do some sidequests — which are worth doing, incidentally, as they feature some of the best scenes in the game — is also a pleasing development.

In short, the whole thing comes together to create a joyful whole that will keep you busy for about 40-60 hours depending on how much optional stuff you want to do. It's a good length — while it's approximately twice the length of its predecessor, it never feels like it's outstaying its welcome, with a wide variety of locations to explore, treasures to find and creatures to fight. Completionists who like to explore and find all the hidden secrets in a game will be amply rewarded, while those who simply want to charge ahead with the plot won't find themselves punished for wanting to progress.

As I said at the beginning, Shadow Hearts: Covenant is, quite simply, a must-play JRPG. Should you have the opportunity to pick up a copy, do so. I'm disappointed I didn't take the time to explore this series sooner, as it's shot to somewhere around the top of my list of favourite games of all time. I am, however, very glad that I took some time away from the mainstream, from current-generation consoles and from the shitstorm surrounding Mass Effect 3 to immerse myself in a true, underappreciated classic. You should try it, too.

The post #oneaday Day 806: Shadow Hearts: Covenant: A Scoreless Review appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Haven't written about what I've been playing for a little while, so here's an update.

I'm currently playing Shadow Hearts: Covenant, aka Shadow Hearts II. If you've been reading my previous entries, you'll know that this is the second entry in a PS2-based RPG series published by Midway (in Europe, anyway) and developed by Nautilus (nee Sacnoth). If you haven't been reading my previous entries… uhh… Shadow Hearts II is the second entry in a PS2-based RPG series published byMidway (in Europe, anyway) and developed by Nautilus (nee Sacnoth).

Jesting aside, Shadow Hearts II is a significant upgrade over its predecessor. Where the original Shadow Hearts could have easily been a PS1 game, with its prerendered backgrounds, polygonal characters and turn-based combat, Shadow Hearts II is not only a fine example of a PS2 game, but a game which still stands up remarkably well today regardless of platform. Replacing the original game's prerendered vistas with a 3D world full of dynamic (but still game- rather than player-controlled) camera angles is the most obvious difference, and it's striking what a change it provides. Shadow Hearts didn't look bad but it did suffer a little from characters standing around somewhat woodenly when having conversations. Shadow Hearts II, by comparison, takes a much more cinematic approach to its presentation and looks great as a result. It helps that the character models are fantastic and well-animated, too — this really is a great-looking PS2 title.

Going hand-in-hand with the cinematic presentation of the visuals is the move to the game being mostly voiced rather than almost entirely text-based. This has the sad side-effect of meaning it's no longer possible to rename your characters, but since the original Shadow Hearts featured a voiced ending sequence in which the default names of the characters were used even if you'd played for over 30 hours with a party sporting a completely different nomenclature… well, I can deal with that. The voice acting is mostly decent, but pays absolutely no attention whatsoever to the countries that the cast members are supposed to be from. Leading lady Karin, for example, is supposed to be German, but she sure doesn't sound it. It doesn't take long for the suspension of disbelief to kick in, however, as you immerse yourself in Shadow Hearts' surreal parallel reality in which World War I is happening at the same time as Bad Shit is going down with demons and monsters. Eventually the fact that everyone from a wide range of different nations all sounds American ceases to matter, and the fact it's set in the real world alongside real-life historical events and figures becomes almost incidental. It just becomes a cool JRPG story in which the place names sound very familiar.

I'm not going to talk too much about plot here as I'll save that for a post once I've finished the game, so instead I'll now dwell a little on some mechanical highlights from the game — specifically, the combat system.

Shadow Hearts featured a functional, fun combat system that didn't deviate hugely from the traditional turn-based "heroes line up one side, enemies line up the other, polite violence ensues" system used by many RPGs over the years. The main twist on the formula was the use of the Judgement Ring, which required carefully-timed button presses to ensure the success of actions. More powerful, complex moves required more button presses, while the use of the Ring also allowed the designers free reign to throw in a variety of unconventional status effects besides the usual Poison, Paralyse and the like. Some enemies might make your Ring very small, for example (stop sniggering at the back) while others might make it spin very fast. It was a pleasing extra layer of interactivity atop an otherwise fairly conventional battle system.

Shadow Hearts II keeps the good bits of the original — the Judgement Ring and the need to keep an eye on your party's emotional as well as physical state during combat — while completely shaking up the core battle mechanics. No longer do both sides stand still waiting to be smacked across the face. Instead, characters move around the battlefield to make use of their abilities, and various different types of attack allow the player a degree of control over the battlefield. If you see a bunch of enemies lining up for a concerted attack, for example, then you can perform some sort of explosive move that scatters them and prevents them from unleashing said attack.

This system is given a whole new layer of depth by the Combo mechanic. Characters (player or enemy) who are standing directly adjacent to one another are eligible to participate in a "Combo" attack. This still takes place in a turn-based manner, but allows characters to take their turns outside of the usual order determined by their agility statistic. Repeatedly wailing on a single enemy with several characters also gradually increases the damage inflicted, with more and more total hits contributing to a bigger and bigger damage bonus, particularly if you combine this with knocking the enemy up against a wall. It's immensely satisfying to pull off successfully, and adds a much greater degree of strategy to battles. Do you risk characters being knocked out in favour of unleashing a four-man combo? Or do you keep someone held back on healing duty while the others batter the enemies with magic and a giant frozen tuna? Karin's sanity is a bit low — can you risk her going Berserk after she's done her job in the combo?

Alongside the excellent combat comes a fine system of character development. Player characters may equip "Crests", which allow them to cast spells. Almost any character may equip any combination of Crests, so long as their total level doesn't exceed their "capacity" statistic. This allows you to set up characters as healers, buffers, offensive mages or any mix you please.

This doesn't make characters interchangeable, however — far from it. Alongside the Crest Magic system is the Personal system, which features a unique mechanic for every character. Karin must collect Wagner scores to inexplicably teach her new swordplay moves. Friendly wolf Blanca (incidentally, one of the most subtly hilarious characters of any game I've ever played) powers up his special moves through defeating rival wolves from around the world in one-on-one combat. Vampiric wrestler Joachim learns new moves from his "Teacher", real-life wrestler The Great Gama. Not only that, though, but he occasionally suffers uncontrollable transformations into a golden bat, an invisible form or a superhero alter-ego according to his biorhythms. Highlight of this "Personal" system, however, though, has to be Gepetto the puppeteer, who fights using his slightly creepy kid-like doll Cornelia, who gets new dresses infused with new magical capabilities by taking cards with naked, muscle-bound male pinups on them to a rather effeminate French tailor who persistently follows the party around from location to location. No, I'm not making any of this up.

Herein lies the genius of Shadow Hearts II. It is filled with inspired lunacy, and every time you think you've got the hang of its peculiar mindset, it throws something newly bizarre into the mix. And the best thing about it is that it plays it all so straight, so deadpan. These strange systems are just how things work — no explanation required. In the case of Joachim's transformations, for example, the game doesn't even bother to mention that this might happen at some point, or even explain it when it does happen for the first time. Instead you're left gazing at your battle screen, bewildered as to why a party member has inexplicably turned into a bat without warning. Fortunately, there's an in-game help facility which does explain these quirky little features, but in a way it's more fun to discover things for yourself and only resort to the help if you find yourself really confused.

It's proving to be an utterly brilliant game so far, then. I've no idea how far I am off finishing it — I'm about 40 hours in and have been on the second disc of two for a little while, so I'm guessing there's not that much left — but I'm certainly going to continue to enjoy the ride while I can. And if you get the chance to, you absolutely should play this and its predecessor, too.

The post #oneaday Day 797: Enthusing Regarding Shadow Hearts: Covenant appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

Shadow Hearts for the PS2 is a game which seems to be almost universally adored by everyone who has played it. It's certainly a far cry from the reaction its PS1 predecessor Koudelka got, for sure, proving that yes, sometimes developers do learn from their mistakes.

Is it worth playing in 2012, though? That's one of the questions I set out to answer when I eschewed the latest and greatest in fancy-pants HD gaming and booted up Sacnoth's classic for the first time. I'd never played it before, so coming to it as a 2012 gamer would be my first experience — hopefully allowing me to determine whether or not it's still worth your time.

First impressions are striking, and not necessarily in a good way. We're in full-on old-school JRPG mode here, with polygonal characters wandering around on top of pixelated prerendered backdrops, occasionally stopping to perform a canned animation and generally not looking overly natural in their surroundings. Couple this with that much-maligned mainstay of Japanese roleplaying games, the random battle, and you have an experience which takes a little getting used to if you're accustomed to the ways in which the genre has grown, changed and adapted over the years.

Once you get your head into the mindset of how things work, though, all that culture shock quickly fades away. The characters may have somewhat wooden animations, but they're detailed 3D models with plenty of personality, and they provide the party you eventually assemble over the course of the game's 30 hours or so with a distinctive look. When combined with the good quality localisation job which has been done on the game's dialogue, the game's cast comes together as a loveable, memorable crew of misfits that is all the more notable for not relying on traditional JRPG archetypes.

The plot, too, is interesting and unconventional, blending real-world events from the early 20th Century with pure fantasy that occasionally drifts into Lovecraftian "it came from beyond the stars" territory, though with a slightly light-hearted edge on everything. It works well, and all the more so for the fact that it doesn't feel the need to necessarily spell things out for the player. You can tell that we're dealing with some sort of twisted alternate history here when we see how comfortable everyone is with the use of magic, for example — there are no exaggerated "Wow, you have amazing special powers!" scenes when new characters join the party, even when protagonist Yuri reveals the ace up his sleeve: his ability to transform into slobbering death monsters.

The characters' special abilities are what provides depth to the game's combat system. Characters tend not to be single-minded specialists, but often have a range of skills that unlock over the course of the game which can be applied to a variety of situations. Even leading lady Alice, who is set up pretty early on to be your stock "healer" character, has some entertaining tricks which she can perform — and she's not the only one with the ability to heal, either. Even some of Yuri's monster forms have the ability to heal, meaning the player can stick with a party arrangement that works for them — or that is simply made up of characters they find appealing. Given Yuri and Alice's importance to the overarching plot, however, most players will likely find themselves spending the majority of their time in the game with these two and one of the four other characters in the third slot.

Combat unfolds via a rather sedate turn-based system. There's no time bars here, just a simple behind-the-scenes initiative calculation determining who gets to go next. There are two twists on the traditional turn-based combat formula, however: sanity, and the Judgement Ring.

Sanity points gradually drain over the course of a fight, reflecting the mental strain battling horrific eldritch monsters has on the human psyche. Running out of sanity points causes the character to go Berserk, attacking enemy and ally indiscriminately accompanied by the word "Violently" curiously emblazoned in the air over their head. In a nice nod to characterisation through statistics, different characters have varying pools of sanity points according to their own mental faculties. Alice, for example, being a bit of a scaredy-cat girly-girl at times, has a very small pool of sanity points, while Yuri, who is wandering around with a variety of monsters living in his psyche, has a very large pool which he expends any time he turns into a monster — presumably a rather traumatic experience.

Meanwhile, the Judgement Ring is the mechanic which drives the whole game. Rather than simply hammering the Attack button to get through fights as quickly as possible, the Judgement Ring is a timing-based system that requires players to accurately tap the X button on their controller in time with a predefined pattern. Said pattern varies according to what the player is trying to do — using an item only requires one tap, for example, while the characters' later special abilities may require three or four carefully-timed taps in total. It's a simple means of making combat feel significantly more interactive than turn-based titles otherwise can, and it's also used outside of combat to resolve situations which would be handled by a dice-based "skill check" in a tabletop RPG — kicking down a door, negotiating for better prices in a shop, perfomring a task which requires endurance.

Whether or not you'll find Shadow Hearts to be a palatable play experience in 2012 will depend a lot on your patience. While the random encounter rate isn't overly high, you can expect exploration of the game's world to be frequently interrupted by battles with enemies — and, as is common for this breed of role-playing game, you'll see the same enemies and groups of enemies quite a lot over the course of a dungeon. Boss battles, meanwhile, are generally fairly lengthy experiences, partly to put a bit of pressure on the game's sanity system. Later conflicts can feel like they're dragging on a bit, particularly once you've managed to acquire some equipment for the party which allows them to shrug off things like status effects. The requirement to use the Judgement Ring with each ability use and attack helps keep things moving, but a few of the later bosses just go on a little bit too long to be comfortable or fun. The final boss is particularly prone to this, it has to be said, as it's something of a damage sponge. In a game where three-figure damage is considered a strong hit, taking down something with over 10,000 hit points is a task you'd better set aside plenty of time for.

Presentation has also moved on significantly since the game's original release back in 2001. Video sequences feature characters with that obvious sort of "rendered on the cheap" animation, and the voice acting is woefully inconsistent. Some English characters speak with an American accent, and others speak English at times and then yell something in Japanese in the middle of battle. The slightly rough edges do give the game a certain degree of charm, however, and the lengthy sequence where an old lady reads you a ghost story — complete with vocalised sound effects — is extremely memorable.

All in all, though, Shadow Hearts' charms considerably outweigh its idiosyncracies, and the game remains fun, entertaining and engrossing today. While it's not the most technically polished, high-budget JRPG — something which was apparent even back on its original release, especially when compared to Final Fantasy X, which came out the same year — it's certainly one of the most memorable. And, crucially, by clocking in at around 25-30 hours, beating the game is well within the reach of even people who like to go outside sometimes. In these days of everyone seemingly being increasingly busy, the importance of brevity shouldn't be underestimated.

So should you check it out in 2012 if you've never played it? Sure, but do be prepared for that initial culture shock as you adjust to the Way We Did Things over ten years ago. Times have changed, for sure.

The post #oneaday Day 787: Shadow Hearts: A Scoreless Review appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

I've been playing Final Fantasy XIII-2 for most of today and am almost at the end. I have reached the final boss, in fact, though haven't beaten it as yet.

You are doubtless wondering whether or not it is worth playing this game, as you may have heard mixed reviews from around the Internet. I therefore present a list of bullet points which you may wish to take into consideration when deciding whether or not you actually want to pick up a copy and try it for yourself. I am going to present each point as neutrally as possible, as some people may react strongly one way or the other to each factor, and those reactions may not coincide with my own feelings!

I'm assuming at least passing familiarity with Final Fantasy XIII here.

• The main story can be completed in approximately 25-30 hours, making it significantly shorter than a lot of other RPGs in this generation.
• Following completion of the main story, there is a veritable shitload of stuff to do. Progress in the game is measured through your collection of 160 fragments. At my current point (final boss) I have 62. There is plenty more I can go back and do after the credits have rolled.
• The main story is somewhat confusing, and all the more so thanks to its non-linear structure. The antagonist's motivations are not made entirely clear until the very end of the game.
• You play the same two characters all the way through the game. Neither of them have particularly "personal" stories to follow, though there is an underdeveloped narrative thread regarding Noel's memories.
• There is a squeaky-voiced companion character present throughout the entire game. It is a Moogle, true in every way to past incarnations in the series, right down to ending almost every sentence with "kupo".
• Final Fantasy XIII's characters all put in at least one guest appearance throughout the course of the game, but only one plays a major role in the story.
• When you meet Hope, he is older than he was in Final Fantasy XIII and seems to have got over his "issues".
• The time travel mechanic is more of a location menu. There aren't any particularly clever time manipulation puzzles throughout the course of the game, though there are a few sections where you revisit the same areas in different eras.
• There are puzzles in certain areas. These take the form of "anomalies" in which you have to complete one of three different types of puzzle — finding a route over a board of tiles which disappear when you step on them while collecting crystals; joining like-coloured crystals with lines to form pictures; and a complex clock-themed puzzle that requires either forward planning or a lot of patience.
• The game does not hold your hand as much as Final Fantasy XIII-2. This is most apparent around about 15 hours in when you are given a quest to go and find five items throughout time out of a possible seven, and given only vague clues and a picture to help you locate them. Said items are almost invisible in the field, but the Moogle reacts to them when you are close.
• There is a quest system, where certain characters will exchange a Fragment for completing a small task, which usually takes the form of either a fetch or kill quest. There is no means of visually distinguishing questgivers from just people you can normally talk to, though once you have accepted their quest they get a marker above their head and on the map.
• Collecting set numbers of fragments rewards you with extra special abilities.
• Gameplay has a much stronger focus on exploration and observation than Final Fantasy XIII's straight-line corridors.
• The automap is good and tells you how much of an area you have successfully explored. There is a quest late in the game to 100% as many maps as possible. Areas which you visit in different time periods share map completion percentage.
• The weapon upgrade system from Final Fantasy XIII is no longer present. Instead, certain new weapons which you purchase require certain components acquired from monsters.
• The Crystarium level-up system is a little different to Final Fantasy XIII. Both Serah and Noel do "laps" of a single crystal formation rather than having a longer "map" per role. On a lap, they can distribute their levels across any of their available roles. On completion of a lap, they can either unlock another role, enhance the bonus of one of their existing roles or extend their Active Time Battle bar, allowing them to complete more actions in succession.
• After 25 or so hours, I have maxed out 3 of the 6 possible roles for both Noel and Serah. Progress slows with each lap around the Crystarium, requiring more Crystogenesis Points (acquired by defeating monsters and recovering Fragments) for each level gained.
• There's a monster collection and training aspect. You can equip up to three monsters at once, each one specialising in a single role. These can then be incorporated into the Paradigm system to create custom party lineups.
• Monsters are levelled up by feeding them special items rather than spending CP. When a monster completes a lap of its own Crystarium, it starts requiring rarer and/or more expensive items to level up further.
• Monsters can be renamed by choosing from a large list of preset names, and adorned with decorative items found throughout the game.
• Content has been withheld for DLC. This is most apparent in the "casino" area, where asking an attendant to explain the card games pops up a window that simply says "reserved for future DLC."
• The music is very good and features a mix of both brand new tracks and recognisable ones from Final Fantasy XIII.

So there you go. A series of facts about Final Fantasy XIII-2 which may assist you in the decision of whether or not you want to give it a go. For what it's worth, I've been enjoying it more than I thought I would at the bewildering outset, but it's not the strongest Final Fantasy there's ever been, not by a long shot. It is significantly better than Final Fantasy XIII in most respects, however, so those who disliked that may wish to give this one another chance.

I've got a few days to finish this off, and then a copy of The Last Story is on its way to me. Given that that game is made by many members of the old Final Fantasy team (notably Hironobu Sakaguchi and Nobuo Uematsu), I am very interested to see what it offers.

The post #oneaday Day 762: So, Should You Play Final Fantasy XIII-2? appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

In an about-face from recent activities, I've been playing a relatively mainstream game today in the form of Final Fantasy XIII-2. Despite being a big release, however, one could put forward the argument that the Final Fantasy series is actually becoming somewhat niche again thanks to mixed opinions on the more recent titles.

Said mixed opinions are largely due to the fact that here is a series that is absolutely not afraid to reinvent itself every so often — with varying results.

Up until Final Fantasy IX, you pretty much knew what you were getting — a traditional-style JRPG with random battles. Sure, each one had its own unique ability system, some of which worked better than others (FFV's Job system was a highlight for many, while FFVIII's ridiculously abstract Junction system was both needlessly overcomplicated and far too easy to game) but for the most part, you could rely on the fact that you'd have a lengthy quest involving dungeons, towns, a world map, an airship and eleventy bajillion random battles along the way which, from FFIV onwards, used the series' iconic Active Time Battle system, offering gameplay somewhere between real-time and turn-based.

It was said prior to FFIX's launch, however, that that particular game would be the last "traditional" Final Fantasy title. And in many ways, that game did feel like a farewell to the series, featuring numerous references to all the previous entries in the franchise, a great story, some lovable characters and an utterly bewildering finale. It was also to be the last Final Fantasy to grace the PS1.

Final Fantasy X, the first entry in the series to arrive on the PlayStation 2, shook things up. While it was still fundamentally an RPG with random battles, a lot of elements which people had taken for granted had changed completely. Gone was the traditional experience and levels progression system, replaced with the Sphere Grid, a flexible system that allowed for a degree of character customization — or a lot of character customization if you elected to play in the "Advanced" mode. Also gone was the traditional world map, with the whole game structured as one continuous journey through the world rather than jaunts through key locations punctuated with running across a peculiarly-scaled map screen. Also gone was the Active Time Battle system, replaced by a more cerebral turn-based system in which players could manipulate turn order with the use of certain abilities. It was a neat system, but Active Time Battle returned with Final Fantasy X-2 — itself a departure for the series by being the first ever direct sequel to a previous Final Fantasy game.

Final Fantasy X-2 was great. Some people hated it for the fact that its tone and attitude was so different to that of its predecessor which, despite all its changes, told a pretty good tale, despite having one of the most irritating main characters the franchise has ever seen. Some people hated it for the fact it was as camp as a row of pink tents. Some people didn't even give it a chance after seeing the seriously cheesy intro sequence. But beneath the girlish nonsense lay a deep JRPG with an excellent character development system that combined elements of FFX's Sphere Grid and FFV's Job system.

Then came Final Fantasy XI, which was an MMO. This caused even series mainstays to shy away, and also proved that Square Enix had a lot to learn about making MMOs. It was difficult, progress was painfully slow and its tech was rather janky — due in part to the fact it was a cross-platform release on PC and PS2 (and later Xbox 360). But somehow despite this it was still recognisable as a Final Fantasy on some level — particularly once you started getting into the story missions and boss fights. You'd be forgiven if you skipped this one, however, as it required a time investment that many players aren't able or willing to give. That said, it's still going relatively strong today, meaning there must be something there that people like.

Final Fantasy XII reinvented the series once again, taking a few lessons from Final Fantasy XI and applying them to a single-player game. Ditching the concept of random battles altogether, Final Fantasy XII took place in an open world divided into zones, much like an MMO, and saw combat taking place on the field. There was a far greater focus on exploration and freedom than in any previous Final Fantasy game (except, arguably, the very first one, which pretty much plonked you down in the world and told you to get on with it with nary a hint of coherent plot) and, for the first time in the mainline single player series, the game focused far more on game mechanics than plot. This wasn't a bad thing — it was great fun to play, and the new systems worked brilliantly — but the plot was rather lacking, ending up as a rather poor imitation of Star Wars without the space combat. It just wasn't a very interesting story, which caused it to suffer. This, coupled with the fact that the game was so fundamentally different to what people thought Final Fantasy was — despite the fact it had been continually reinventing itself since X — caused many people to treat it with a degree of caution. The soundtrack was a bit rubbish, too — a big deal in a series that was known for its stirring, memorable music.

And then came Final Fantasy XIII, the first "next-gen" Final Fantasy. Conscious of the fact that some JRPG fans had shied away from the Westernness of XII, XIII took on a much more traditional JRPG structure. It was linear for the most part, it featured battles which took place on a separate screen, it had a levelling system somewhat reminiscent of FFX's Sphere Grid and it had a strong cast of characters participating in a plot best described as "bewildering". It was certainly a spectacle to watch, and remains one of the best-looking games of all time to this day. Unfortunately, its extreme linearity coupled with the fact that it was still throwing tutorial messages at you by the time you were a good 20 hours into it caused many people to, again, respond negatively to it.

Now enter Final Fantasy XIII-2, a game where Square Enix seem to think they've learned from the mistakes of the past. And in some senses they have done — gone is the straight line corridor design of XIII and in are much more open-plan areas which require exploration to discover all their secrets, for example. But in some senses, they've taken a few steps backward, too — the plot, for one, which is complete nonsense, even for a Final Fantasy game. There's a lot of time travel, though it's not until a good while into the game that you start to see this used in an interesting manner with parallel timelines and whatnot. Chrono Trigger it ain't. For the most part, it's used as a bit of a lazy excuse for whatever disastrous event is afflicting the next location you go to — it's always "a paradox", and dealing with it usually involved beating the snot out of some giant monster. 16 hours in and this format is starting to change up a bit, though, so I'm hoping for a bit more variety later in the game. (Yes, obligatory disclaimer here: I haven't finished it yet.)

There's a few technical issues which mar the experience, too. While XIII was criticised somewhat for its relative lack of character interaction, it did at least have properly-directed and blocked scenes for all the important conversations. XIII-2 occasionally takes the lazy way out, with characters standing woodenly in place and flapping their mouths at each other. This wouldn't be so bad were it not for the fact that the character you aren't controlling at the time you initiate the conversation freezes in place when the conversation starts, meaning that if they're in a position where they block the camera, the entire cutscene might be watched through their back. And sure, Serah has a nice bum, but it's nice to see the faces of people you're talking to.

All that said, these considerations don't stop XIII-2 from being an enjoyable game. They stop it from being a truly great, essential purchase game, but they certainly don't stop it from being fun. The battle system is straightforward and satisfying (if a little easy for the most part) and there is certainly plenty to do — and usually plenty of options for things to do at any one time rather than forcing the player down a linear path, too. There's a lot to like and a bit to dislike. If you hated XIII, it's worth a look to see the changes that have been made. If you hate Final Fantasy or JRPGS in general, it's probably not going to change your mind. If you're one of the relatively few people who enjoyed XIII, you'll enjoy the new (if batshit crazy) plot with numerous guest appearances from recognizable characters. And if you passed up playing XIII because of its mixed reviews, you can still get an enjoyable experience out of this thanks to its "Beginner's Primer" feature as well as numerous explicit explanations of past events throughout the course of the game.

Were I to believe in review scores (which I don't, really) I would give it a solid 7. Good, not great. Worth playing, but not essential. Flawed, but enjoyable.

The post #oneaday Day 761: I Think They Were Lying When They Said "Final" appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

The thing is, FFXII is good. Really good. Like, "it's a Final Fantasy for people who hate JRPGs" good, in that it dispenses with all the usual bullshit (rigid linearity until the last hour, when saving the world can be inexplicably put on hold to go and raise some chickens, endless random battles) and provides an experience that is altogether more "Western" in its feel. We have a much more open world. We have enemies wandering around in the field. We have immensely satisfying combat which takes place in the field. We have sidequests with a bloody quest log and we have an interesting, if unconventional, character development system.

And we have Gambits. I was all set to dismiss Gambits as a means of getting the game to play itself. But having played it for about twelve hours now (coming up on the point that I originally got distracted by something else on my initial partial-playthrough, so we're nearly into new territory) I've discovered something: Gambits are awesome.

If you passed on FFXII, let me enlighten you. A Gambit is a means of "programming" your party members to act in particular ways. You give them a particular condition, such as "Ally has less than 50% HP", and then give them an action, like "Cure". You can prioritise the actions, too, so certain things will take precedence when more than one of the conditions are true. And as such, you can plan out the way you'd like a battle to unfold before it starts.

In many senses, it's like that "group huddle" you have in something like World of Warcraft before you take on a dungeon's boss. Everyone has a role to play, and it's important that people stick to that plan where possible, but be able to adapt to the situation if necessary. That's why FFXII gives you the opportunity to immediately issue direct commands, too, which override any and all Gambits in play. In fact, it's technically possible to play the entire game by micromanaging every action all your characters do, but it would probably take you approximately ten times longer to play the game if you chose to do that. Gambits aren't letting you leave the game on autopilot—they're letting you plan out a battle before it happens and then just focus on responding to situations as they arise. You'll frequently have to switch them out to take advantage of particular enemies' weaknesses, and I've noticed myself spending a lot more time in the menu in FFXII than I would do in earlier, more traditional entries in the series. Planning out the way the characters will respond is interesting and addictive, and immensely satisfying when it goes right.

In fact, the only thing which may be a bit off-putting to some people about FFXII these days is the graphics. In this HD age, FFXII looks pretty ugly, and ironically this is because it was a pretty good-looking PS2 game. There is a lot of detail in both the textures and the characters, but the low resolution which the game runs at gives the whole thing a very "muddy" and flickery look which some people may find a bit difficult to deal with. It's certainly not unplayable, though, and spending a bit of time in the company of the PS2 serves as a reminder that games didn't always need HD graphics and Achievements to be good.

(Interestingly, FFXII does actually feature a proto-Achievement system in the form of the Sky Pirate's Den, which fills with trophies as you fulfil certain accomplishments in the game.)

So, if you're hungering for a great almost-Western-style RPG with a JRPG aesthetic? Give ol' FFXII a chance. If FFXIII didn't push your buttons with its "here's a straight line to the finish, apart from this bit" mentality, FFXII is what you need. Join me in my quest through my Pile of Shame!

The post #oneaday, Day 5: The FF Gambit appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.

And then there's the poor, downtrodden RPG merchant, forced to sell all manner of crap, apparently only to adventurers, who then helpfully restock them with an endless supply of boar intestines, bits of wood, crystal chippings and used swords that they don't need any more. It must be a difficult life. And frequently a tedious one, as anyone who entered the online world of Ultima Online with lofty ambitions of owning a huge retail empire will attest.

It's this odd premise that quirky Japanese indie game Recettear: An Item Shop's Tale (available on Steam, as well as directly from the distributor's website) decides to explore in great depth. Playing the role of Recette, an adorable young girl with an absentee father, it's the player's job to help her run a successful RPG item store and make enough money to pay off the debt her father left her with. She's not in it alone, of course. She has a fairy assistant named Tear. Tear works for the financial institution with which Recette's father took out the loan, "because fairies are good at administration" and is there to help Recette pay off the debt she's been saddled with. The two become friends quickly, but should Recette be unable to make any of the weekly payments she's required to, Tear will quickly repossess her house and leave the poor girl living in a box.

So far, so Animal Crossing, you might say. And you'd kind of be right. Except not. There really isn't another game quite like Recettear out there. There are games which focus on individual elements of the game, sure. But none which blend together such peculiar and diverse elements with such successful results.

The game is split into three main sections. Firstly, there's the item shop itself. Recette can dump anything from her inventory onto the shelves in the store. Stuff in the window is likely to attract customers. If she chooses to open the shop, she has to deal with a flow of customers coming in and asking for things. If they're on display, all she has to do is agree a suitable price with the customer. If they agree, cha-ching. If they disagree, Recette has one chance to make a more reasonable offer before they leave.

Simple enough. As the game progresses, though, more elements are added to this formula. For starters, in true RPG tradition, people start selling stuff to Recette, too. This can be a good way for her to build up stock, as she can often get stuff for knock-down prices with a bit of shrewd haggling. Then people will place special orders, requesting that she deliver, say, three hats in two days' time. Recette has to not only make sure she has the hats in stock but also remember to have the store open when the customer plans to return. And finally, some customers will come in not quite sure of what they want, and Recette will have to make recommendations from the stock she has on display and in her inventory.

It's a straightforward mechanic, and you soon get to know how much certain customers are willing to pay over base prices. A few twists come in later with a news ticker informing Recette of increased or decreased prices in the market, but it's mostly a case of buy low, sell high.

If Recette chooses to leave the store, she can wander around town and occasionally bump into the people who frequent her store. These come in the form of random townsfolk and adventurers. Completing requests for adventurers will sometimes net her their Guild Card, which enables her to make use of them for expeditions to the local dungeons.

Yes, there are dungeons. Because sometimes the local markets just don't have the things people want to buy. When that's the case, Recette is free to pop down to the local Adventurers' Guild and hire one of the guildies she's made friends with. It's then into an action-RPG dungeon crawler to kick monster booty and gather lots of crap that people might want to buy.

It works, brilliantly well. The item shop stuff occurs quickly enough that it never gets tiresome. The storytelling scenes feature attractive artwork and a truly excellent localisation from the Japanese. And the dungeon-crawling, while simplistic, is fun and satisfying, broken up by regular boss battles and in-dungeon special events.

The whole game is distinctly adorable, but deceptive. The artwork, music and squeaky-voiced Japanese girls make it look like something which should be incredibly embarrassing and cringeworthy to play. But in fact, there's a distinctly acidic sense of humour underneath all the sweetness, and a large number of the dialogue exchanges are genuinely laugh-out-loud funny. The kawaii presentation coupled with fairly sophisticated, intelligent humour and a wonderfully self-aware nature reminds me a lot of the Disgaea series.

I'm probably about halfway through the game now, having made two of Recette's repayments successfully. There's the hints of a bigger plot at work, and a bunch of new characters have been introduced, most of whom will presumably end up being playable adventurers for the dungeoneering sections.

If you're after something that is both comfortably familiar and quite different to any JRPG you've ever played, then Recettear: An Item Shop's Tale is well worth checking out. I fully intend on posting a full review somewhere once I've beaten it.

The post #oneaday, Day 316: Pity The Poor Shopkeeper appeared first on I'm Not Doctor Who.