#oneaday Day 918: We Dig, Dig, Dig, Dig…

Yes, I’ve been playing Minecraft again, thanks largely to several members of the Squadron of Shame finally biting the bullet and jumping on the bandwagon. And, once again, I am rediscovering the sheer joy of that game.

The first time I played Minecraft I wasn’t overly enamoured with it. Not because of the deliberately lo-fi graphics — on the contrary, I found them highly endearing — but because I had literally no idea what I was supposed to do, and at the time I started playing, it was largely up to the player to either work things out for themselves or refer to a wiki. Nowadays, of course, there are achievements to guide your early days in the game and basic techniques are practically common knowledge — the Xbox version also removes the need to remember the specific “patterns” to craft tools altogether, making it even more accessible and a great jumping-on point for those who have no idea what Minecraft is all about.

After spending a hefty proportion of time in Minecraft’s many pixelated, blocky worlds, however, that sense of “what on Earth do I do now?” is, as it turns out, precisely what appeals to me about the game. I have no goals aside from the ones I set for myself. There is no “end” to the game aside from the time when I wish to stop playing. (Well, technically that’s not quite true — you can “finish” Minecraft through a long and convoluted process culminating in a difficult boss battle against a giant evil dragon thing. But you can carry on playing after that.) The world is different each time I start a new game. And therein lies Minecraft’s biggest joy.

Minecraft is like being a kid again, assuming you were a kid who never had to get home in time for dinner, and a kid who was trusted with various sharp implements. Minecraft taps into that youthful desire to explore, to discover, to see what’s over that next hill, around that corner, on the other side of that sheer rock face. It taps into that youthful fear of being lost in the middle of nowhere and having no idea of how you’re going to get back home. And, like those youthful expeditions into forests and caves, it’s much more fun with friends.

Minecraft is what you make of it. I currently play on two multiplayer servers — one with a small group of “real-life” friends and the other with a group of people I primarily know online — the aforementioned Squadron of Shame. The differing approaches we take on each server are very interesting, and represent two very different social dynamics.

On my “real-life friends” server, everyone quickly staked their claim to their “territory” and built something big and impressive there to mark it. Tim built a huge castle; James built a wizard’s tower and network of connected walkways with giant mushrooms (plus a huge tree made of trees); Andie built some quaint (and practical) little houses; and I built a large, experimental pyramid-like structure and enormous, intricately-carved bridge.

On the Squadron of Shame server, meanwhile, things were a lot more cooperative from the get-go. I was one of the first people on the server, so I took the time to establish a basic base camp — wooden hut with crafting table and furnace, sufficient to last the night. Over time, and with the assistance of others, this hut expanded with an extra room containing beds, and a large mine beneath it. Other structures sprang up nearby until our improvised “base camp” started to look like a small village. I built roads in every direction as I explored, and others followed suit to help us find our way to various impressive landmarks. When we found a cool piece of randomly-generated scenery, we talked about it as if it was a real place. Other “citadels” sprang up around the map, and we as a group went further and further afield. I constructed some kick-ass bridges.

In both cases, the world feels alive — because it is alive. It’s constantly growing and changing according to how far people have explored and what they have built. It’s an immensely satisfying experience to know that you’ve played a part in the shaping of a virtual world, whatever your contribution and whatever your particular skill sets might be. In many ways, it’s similar to the satisfaction of playing an active role in something like Second Life, which I’ve been known to spend time in in the past, and which I once referred to as “taking a walk through other peoples’ imaginations”. The key difference here, though, is that Minecraft has a great deal more immediacy than Second Life — and considerably fewer prostitutes.

So if you’ve been holding off on playing Minecraft, I suggest you give it a shot — preferably with friends. If you have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for, fire up the Xbox version and play online or in split-screen. When you’re ready, grab a copy of the full experience on PC and prepare yourself for the most immersive game world you’ll ever experience — the one you helped create.

#oneaday Day 838: Still No Wind Here

As promised, here are a few further thoughts on A Valley Without Wind, given that I’ve inadvertently spent most of today playing it.

First up, having read a few reviews around the Web which focused heavily on the visual side of things, I direct you to this post. Get over it. Not everyone has the budget to make something that looks like Final Fantasy XIII, and it’s not as if AVWW’s visuals are bad per se, they just look like something out of a PC game from the 1990s, shortly after we discovered Super VGA. If “8-bit” can be an acceptable aesthetic (and I shan’t get into a rant on the misuse of that term here) then why not “mid-90s PC game” if the graphics don’t actually hurt the experience?

Secondly, the music. You will, as the cliche goes, love it or hate it. Here’s a simple test. Do you like chiptunes and electronica? You will like the music. If you do not like chiptunes and electronica, you will probably want to switch it off and listen to something else. (I love chiptunes and electronica.)

Those two glaringly obvious points which most reviews seem to focus on aside, let’s discuss the gameplay a little more.

Following an initial tutorial which introduces key gameplay concepts to the player with various gravestones sarcastically describing how various predecessors could have avoided their fate, the player reaches a settlement. This is a sorry affair to begin with, with only a single, bedraggled-looking survivor staggering around it, but a selection of basic buildings already constructed and ready to go. Three of the giant crystalline “Ilari” life-forms are here, and later in the game they’ll provide a means to purchase items, build things and cast far-reaching spells. To begin with, their most important function is to restore your hit points.

Leave the settlement and you’ll be taken onto a grid-based randomly generated world map. Each tile has a particular terrain type which controls the type of enemies that will spawn there, the items you’ll discover and, if you’re lucky, the survivors you might come across. Each region comes from a specific time period — the game’s story centres around the concept of the world being “shattered” both geographically and temporally — and this comes into play with some of the missions later.

When exploring a region, you’ll come across buildings. You can enter every single one of them. Most of them are sprawling mini-Metroidvania adventures in their own right, but for the most part you’ll be seeking out the “stash” rooms that contain plenty of treasure. These are conveniently marked on the graph-like abstract dungeon map in the corner of the screen, which shows the connections between rooms but not their exact layout. A key part of gameplay is “scouting” buildings, which means delving in just far enough to reveal the rest of the map — rooms that are within two “connections” of the one you’re in appear without you having to go to them — and then weighing up whether it’s worth exploring further.

The buildings are rather abstractly designed (not to mention having TARDIS-like properties), and call to mind retro classics such as Jet Set Willy, where a “real world environment” was simply a room with obstacles in it and various graphics representing toilets and televisions scattered around the place. They’re far from “believable” environments, but it doesn’t matter — you’re playing a side-on platform game, so there’s a limit to how realistically these structures can be designed anyhow. I’d rather have something that is interesting to explore than something where every building is the same.

Missions play a key role in progression. You’ll come across missions either on the world map or tucked away inside buildings. These whisk the player off to a unique, special area and challenge them with a specific task. Sometimes you might be climbing a linear tower and bashing bosses on the way up. Another time you might be defending storage silos from incoming meteors like a Missile Command platformer. Another time you might be tasked with removing the “anachronisms” from an area, which involves figuring out which monsters don’t “belong” in the region you’re in and eliminating them. Destroying all the correct monsters concludes the mission. Destroying an incorrect monster spawns two more, either, both or neither of which may also be an anachronism. Yet another time you might be challenged with getting through a “one shot, one kill” dungeon where either you or the enemy grazing their knee results in instant death.

As you progress through the game, death becomes an increasingly frequent occurrence. When a character dies, they’re gone for good, leaving behind a tough-to-defeat vengeful ghost at the location where they shuffled off the mortal coil. Fortunately, you don’t lose all the stuff you’ve spent hours accumulating — you simply lose any upgrades you might have applied to that character’s health, attack power and mana pool and have to pick a new playable character. As you rescue survivors from different time periods, you gain access to a range of characters with varying abilities — those from an “ice age” era, for example, are resistant to the cold, while those who are not will require special equipment to explore cold environments effectively.

The eventual goal is to storm into the local Overlord’s lair and kick him squarely in the balls. Said Overlord has a bunch of lieutenants, too, who can either be knocked off individually before taking on the Overlord or battled at the same time as the big boss man. You can theoretically walk straight into the Overlord’s lair from the beginning of the game, but you’ll be ill-equipped to deal with the challenges therein. Instead, it’s advisable to complete a bunch of missions to raise the continent’s “civilisation level” (thus affecting both the strength of the enemies and the potential rewards on offer) while also collecting the raw materials required to buff up your character’s spells. And rescue survivors. And build buildings. And construct wind shelters to push back the wind storms that buffet the region, making exploration difficult. And track down “mystery rooms” to find clues describing exactly what the hell happened to the world to get it in this state. And… you get the idea. There is a shitload of things to do, and completing the first continent then invites you to do it all again in a more diverse array of environments.

The sheer amount of things that there are to do can make the game seem like a daunting prospect. The game often draws comparisons to other open-world freeform adventures such as Minecraft and Terraria and that feeling of being alone in a vast, terrifying world is very much present and correct here. Focus on completing a few simple tasks, though — the game is good enough to suggest some to you — and things will gradually start to fall into place.

A Valley Without Wind is an ambitious title that tries very hard and while it’s true there are elements of the experience that could do with a little refinement, it’s a very memorable, compelling and addictive game that produces some excellent emergent narrative. Best of all, though, is the fact that the developers are still working on it, meaning the game experience will grow, change and evolve as time goes on. If it’s this intriguing now, I can’t wait to see what the game looks like in a few months or years.

#oneaday Day 711: The Ancient Craft of Mining

Andie and I may have inadvertently spent pretty much the whole day playing Minecraft. I’ve spoken at length on the virtues of this game on several occasions on this blog, but every time I play it I find something new to appreciate, a new way to play or a new way to look at the game.

This, of course, is the central beauty of Minecraft as a game. No-one is telling you how to play it. The Achievements which were added a few updates ago give you a nudge in several possible directions — enough to get you started, anyway — but beyond that, it’s entirely up to you what to do.

On the Squadron of Shame SquadCast, we’ve had a number of discussions on the subject of games that plonk you down into the game world and simply invite you to “get on with it”. Traditional RPGs followed this format, though often had a questline to follow. Bethesda RPGs, too, follow this approach after a linear introductory sequence. But none do it quite like Minecraft, which is refreshingly old-school in its approach.

Minecraft doesn’t have a story. At least, not an explicit one. Nowhere is it made clear exactly why you’ve been thrown into this blocky landscape with nothing to your name but your wits. Nowhere is there an introduction describing how and why the monsters that plague the landscape after dark came to be. And not once are you told what your “goal” is.

In some senses, this is a return to gaming’s roots, when all the information you needed to know about the game’s plot and setting could be fit on the back of the box. Minecraft‘s retro aesthetic would certainly seem to fit with that theory, but the complexity, depth and freedom that the game offers is something that simply wouldn’t have been possible with older systems.

I do most of my playing on a small private multiplayer server which is in “survival” mode. This is fundamentally identical to the single player mode, where you’re tasked with surviving against the elements (or, indeed, monsters) with only your wits and what you can scavenge. You start playing in a very small area, gathering resources and building materials near where you started in an attempt to create a convincing shelter before the sun sets and the monsters come out to play. As time goes on, however, you spread your wings and start to explore the randomly-generated landscape. In single player, you’ll find yourself discovering a variety of different natural biomes — forests, swamps, mountains — but it’s in multiplayer that the world of Minecraft truly comes alive.

Round a corner of a mountain, you might find a mysterious door set into the hillside. Entering, you might find some chests containing tools, food and building materials — along with a sternly-worded sign informing you that this stuff is not yours.

The beauty of it, though, is that if you want to be a complete git about it, you could just take all that stuff and run. The facility to leave signs with your own custom wording on them, too, means that it’s not beyond the realm of possibility to, say, nick someone’s hoard of diamonds, bury them in a chest somewhere in the depths of the desert and leave them a trail of clues to reclaim them. I hasten to add that I haven’t done this, but it is enormously tempting to do so.

A multiplayer Minecraft server becomes something of a community. How active that community is depends largely on how many other players there are and how often they play. On a big, busy server, you’ll find impressive structures all over the place as players attempt to outdo each other with outlandish construction projects. On a small, private server such as ours, the world will change gradually, evolving piece by piece as each player stakes out their claim to their own piece of territory. It’s fascinating to watch — the fact that the world is persistent so can be changed by other players when you’re not online means that there’s often something new and player-made to take a look at when you next log in. It also means that eventually you’ll have to start either competing for the finite resources that there are, or travelling further afield to locate the items you’ll need to survive and/or complete your latest building project.

There are so many ways to play Minecraft, and the situations I’ve described here barely scratch the surface. It’s whatever you want it to be, and it’s for that reason that I believe that outlets “reviewing” the game when it finally reached Version 1.0 is an utterly futile gesture. For one, everyone’s experience with the game is somewhat different — some are switched off by the lack of direction and give up in frustration; some “powergame” by building the bare minimum they need to survive and progress, attempting to reach the newly-added endgame; some take their time to build impressive structures; some roleplay in their mind, casting themselves in the role of a town planner, laying out buildings and imagining what each might be used for; some do everything they can to make life hell for other players. Not one of those ways to play is “wrong” — even the griefer — and that’s why the game is such a work of genius, despite its glitches and flaws, of which there are still many.

Minecraft will continue to develop over time, though now it’s emerged from beta and its creators are working on other projects, new versions will be released at a slower rate. There’s still an enormous amount of potential there, though, and it’s exciting to imagine what might come next. By putting the creation of the game world and its character in the players’ hands, the team at Mojang have created one (or indeed many) of the most compelling game worlds ever seen in interactive entertainment. There really is nothing like strolling down a street you’ve built yourself, defending it from monsters who want nothing more to 1) kill you and 2) blast big holes in your hard work.

If you’re yet to try Minecraft, then get yourself over here and join the 4.3 million people — yes, wow — that have bought the game to date.

#oneaday Day 633: Your Mine!

Been playing some more Minecraft, and I noticed something interesting. It’s possible to play it in all sorts of different ways, depending on your own personal take on what it’s all about.

You can play it as a survival sim — foraging for food, fending off the unpleasant beasties who would like nothing more than to fill you with holes, poison, fire or gunpowder.

You can play it as a creative canvas on which you create blocky 3D models of whatever you desire.

In multiplayer, you can play it as a crazy sort of real-time variant on Catan, staking your claim to areas of the map that are rich in a particular type of resource and collaborating with your friends to ensure everyone has access to what they need.

You can play it as a city-building sim, only instead of raising money from taxes to pay for new structures, you have to locate or create the resources you need to put together facilities yourself.

Or you can play it as a role-playing game — and by that I don’t mean “battle through a storyline until facing a final boss, levelling up in the process”, though a (currently useless and occasionally game-breaking) level-up system was added in the last major patch. Rather, I mean play it with a “character” in mind — or at least a concept for what you want to build. Do you want to play a hermit who lives in the woods in a tiny little cabin with an extensive and terrifying network of tunnels beneath his abode? Do you want to play the ostentatious Duke who lords it over the rest of the kingdom from his mountaintop palace? Do you want to play the adventurer, charting the world as he goes, staking his claim to various locales with some well-placed signs? Do you want to play the terrorist, building vast quantities of TNT and then setting them off in a chain reaction that lays waste to the nearby landscape?

The more I play Minecraft, despite being aware of the fact that it’s still fairly pointless as there’s no way to “win”, the more I like it. When you’re not being accosted by monsters, it’s a relaxing game to play — harvesting enough stone to put together your next big structure, for example, is a repetitive task that somehow manages to be fun, as you find yourself naturally carving out shapes in the rock, creating corridors and chambers underground until you realise you’ve actually built a rather extensive dungeon into which you could easily lure some unsuspecting adventurers.

Mojang has hit on to a winning formula. By combining the joy of exploring uncharted, randomly-generated worlds (there’s a lot of “Ooh! That looks cool, I’ll run towards it” in Minecraft) with the joy of constructing things and seeing the world change according to your actions — for better or worse — they’ve put together something really rather special. And for those who want to take matters further, there’s the frightening-sounding Nether and The End realms to explore, too — and eventually there’ll be a dragon to contend with, too.

Notch and his team claim they’re going to stop adding new stuff to the game on October 18, then make sure everything works properly prior to the “official” release in November. Beyond that, the game will likely continue to change and evolve — and I’m certainly very interested and excited to see what the future holds. Notch is a developer who loves his work, loves playing with interactivity and cool new “toys”, then sharing them with his community — and not being too proud to take things that don’t work away again. A lot of big-name professional developers and publishers could learn a lot from the way Mojang is doing things — but, despite the ludicrous amount of money Minecraft has drawn in so far, I doubt they will.

#oneaday Day 601: Whatcha Been Playin’?

I have been playing precisely two games recently, one of which I only returned to today and the other of which you can likely deduce from recent blog posts.

Yes, Xenoblade Chronicles is still going strong and is still magnificent in its excellence. So solid is the gameplay that very quickly you cease to notice the little presentational defects such as the blurry faces, the Final Fantasy X-style nonexistent lip-syncing in certain scenes (but perfect in others) and, of course, the fact it’s on the Wii.

Final Fantasy XII was often compared by its players to MMOs. Structure-wise, it was quite similar, with large, sprawling, expansive zones making up a large interlinked open world which could be freely explored assuming you didn’t aggro some beast 30 levels higher than you. Combat was quasi-real time, with auto-attacks and triggered abilities. And the Gambit system worked in the same way as being a party leader in an MMO — you were explaining what you wanted your teammates to do and when. The only thing really missing from the MMO structure was a wealth of quests to undertake in place of grinding simply by killing enemies. Sure, there were the Hunts, and those were cool, but ultimately they were all quite similar, albeit with increasingly ridiculous challenge factors as the game progressed.

Xenoblade Chronicles doesn’t deviate too far from this formula, though the changes it makes are quite welcome. The Gambit system has been ditched in favour of some excellent party AI who genuinely seem to know what the right thing to do in a given situation is, so long as you’ve made sure their equipment and skills are levelled appropriately. Unlike FFXII, you can’t switch characters at will during battle to trigger specific abilities, though when protagonist Shulk gets a premonition of a particularly devastating attack, it is possible to warn your teammates, which then allows you to pick one of their abilities to use.

The Tension system is an interesting addition, too. Characters’ morale is tracked during combat and reflected in their portraits by their health bars. Should a battle go badly, teammates will get demotivated and start missing or generally being crap. Cheering them on and praising them for cries or dodges helps get their morale back up, and the background music and battle cries all reflect how the fight is going. It’s a nice touch.

Quests are present, too, by the hundreds. Unlike FFXII’s relatively limited number of Hunts available at once, entering a new zone in Xenoblade generally means you’re about to be bombarded with quests. Some are simple and formulaic for each area — kill x beasts, find x collectibles, kill x boss — but then there’s a range of mini-stories to follow too, most of which allow you to build up your Affinity Chart, a worryingly comprehensive “family tree” of every named character in the game and their relationship to one another. I’m yet to see if this information becomes super useful, but even if not it’s neat to see it all mapped out.

So; 34 hours in so far and I now have a nice selection of characters to play with. Between battles you can switch your lineup whenever you like, so you can spend the whole game controlling a character who fits your preferred playstyle if you like, whether that’s tank, healer or damage dealer. Of course, changing things up not only adds variety but also allows you to build up Affinities between different combinations of party members, so you’re indirectly encouraged to do so. And mercifully, inactive characters receive XP at the same rate as active ones so there’s never any need to switch up characters just because someone’s 10 levels behind, unlike FFXII.

But enough enthusing about that. It’s certainly on track to be my Game of the Year so far. Which is nice.

The other game I went back to playing today was Minecraft, thanks to the “leaked” version 1.8 patch. This “Adventure” update gives Minecraft a good kick up the bottom and while it still doesn’t structure the game as such, it gives much more incentive to wander off in hope of discovering cool things. The new landscape generation makes for some spectacularly diverse worlds with deserts, canyons, plains, forests, dungeons, caves and all sorts to discover. I have taken to a strategy I should have used a long time ago — when going off exploring, I build a path as I go, making it significantly easier to find my way back to my buildings and storage when I need to. This hasn’t stopped me being murdered horribly by monsters down one of the horribly inviting deep holes dotted across the landscape which lead to the many random dungeons. But I don’t mind — adventuring is risky business. Sure, you could stay above ground and chop down trees and whatnot, but don’t you really want to see what’s down there…?

While 1.8 clearly still needs work — it’s occasionally buggy and experience points do literally nothing right now — it’s very exciting to see the game getting closer and closer to the state it will be in when it’s eventually declared “finished”. We all know that won’t be the case, though, as the team at Mojang is more than likely to keep adding stuff even after release. And even if they don’t, the mod community is likely to step up and show their stuff, too. It’s going to be a big deal.

Another working week beckons from tomorrow so it’s time to bid you good night.

So… Good night.

#oneaday Day 99: Mein Kraft

Yes, I have discovered Minecraft. Minecraft, despite being an indie game and therefore something I should technically automatically be championing, going by past experience, is something which I’ve always had something of a curious resistance to. It hasn’t been by choice, though—the reason I haven’t been playing Minecraft is not the same as the reason I’m not playing Call of Duty, for example.

In fact, if anything, it’s more to do with the fact that when I finally gave in to peer pressure and bought a copy a number of months back, I only had my netbook with me and it ran like ass on there. And then it ran like ass under OS X on my Mac at home, too. For literally months and months I’d been saying to myself “I should really install it on the Windows partition of my Mac and try it properly…”

Well now I have. And what do you know? It’s rather good, though it’s the kind of game that appears to—at least in its current beta stage—be very much “what you make of it”.

If you’re one of the few people who hasn’t contributed to developer Notch’s millions so far, here’s a brief rundown. You are dropped into a randomly-generated world made entirely of blocks of various materials. You have nothing to your name except a punching fist that can knock down trees. It’s up to you to survive, because every night, the nasties come out and will do their best to kill you.

That’s about it—but the main appeal of the game in its present state comes from the fact that once you’ve built yourself a secure shelter, it’s time to start exploring the world and building stuff. You can create structures either by hollowing out existing terrain or by collecting resources and stacking them to build things—kind of like pixelated Lego blocks.

Then there’s the “craft” part of the title—you can make items. The daunting part of the game for new players is the fact that no help is given when you start the game—without looking at sites such as the excellent Minecraft Wiki, you’d be expected to figure out how to make tools for yourself. And given that even making the simplest tools requires several steps (punch trees for wood, craft wood into planks, build workbench from planks, craft planks into sticks, combine sticks and planks in various arrangements to produce tools) it’s arguably something of a long shot to expect people to do this for themselves.

Or is it? Steven Johnson argues in Everything Bad is Good for You that the cognitive processes you go through when figuring out stuff like this for yourself are very beneficial—good “brain exercise”. You use past experience from previous games and other things you’ve done in the game you’re playing to draw conclusions for yourself about what to do next. And sure enough, I found that once I’d started playing a bit and got the basics down, I started naturally experimenting with different arrangements of materials to see what they produced. Some things worked, some things didn’t. If something doesn’t work, you don’t lose anything, either, so the game is set up to encourage exploration and experimentation.

There’s also an element of risk, though. Death isn’t permanent—but it does cause you to drop all your stuff and potentially lose it. If you’ve spent a long time collecting things, this can be a real pain, especially if you were exploring a long way from your home spot. Then there’s the fact that the game’s most notorious enemies, the “Creepers”, explode when they get near you. Not only does this cause significant damage to you, it also blows big holes in the things you’ve built.

But rather than being frustrating, most players simply take this as a sign that they need to defend their homes a little better. Perhaps they should make them harder to get to, or plant some cacti to put off enemies, or build some weapons and armour.

The possibilities are pretty extensive, and I’m looking forward to exploring the game further—and seeing where Notch takes it in the future. The game comes out of beta on the 11th of November this year, so if you want to pick it up for its current reduced price (25% off the full price) then get over there now.