#oneaday Day 649: Lego Of Me!

Andie and I are at Legoland for the weekend. Well, not right now, but we've spent the day there today and are going back tomorrow.

As theme parks go, it's rather tame and kid friendly for obvious reasons, but it seems to be pretty good. It's been a long time since I last went to a theme park so it's been nice to enjoy their particular brand of semi-organised fun.

One thing which struck me was how keen they are to get more money out of you, even after you've paid [x] amount of money to get in there. Of all things, it reminded me of Facebook games, only with regular reminders of how much fun and free Lego you could get if you signed up for an Annual Pass. That and the wallet-raping prices for food — though I've seen worse.

The attractions were a mixed bag. The Dragon roller coaster was fun and lulled you into a false sense of security with a ghost train-style sequence at the start. The log flume, whose actual name I've forgotten, was good, if a little short, with only one drop. The "boat school", in which you got to drive an actual electric boat, was sedate but pleasantly entertaining.

The day ended with a firework display inexplicably themed around Scooby Doo. This meant that there was a cringeworthy (but kid friendly) story told with roughly five fireworks set off throughout the course of it, which was a bit disappointing. However, the main event then started, which was a spectacular and very expensive looking firework display that was impressively well synced with the loud music soundtrack.

Have been impressed with what I've seen so far. We're looking forward to getting back to it tomorrow and seeing the things we missed. And probably going on the Dragon again.

#oneaday Day 648: Xenoblade Chronicled

Finished Xenoblade Chronicles and can say with some confidence that it's my Game of the Year so far. With only a few months left and only a few things on the horizon which could be contenders, it's looking good for Monolithsoft's epic RPG extravaganza.

Of course, my Game of the Year vote is of interest only to my friends. Gamer culture at large will undoubtedly vote Battlefield 3, Modern Warfare 3 or Uncharted 3 (hang on a minute… there's a pattern there somewhere) as GotY. But that doesn't matter.

Xenoblade Chronicles toes the line perfectly between JRPG and WRPG. On the J front, you have your floppy-haired protagonists who wield physically improbable weapons; you have your large-breasted female companions (one of whom spends most of the game clad in "armour" that really wouldn't protect anything besides her modesty — and even then only just); you have your small, annoying creature; you have your ultimately quite predictable JRPG finale (I still love 'em, I don't care how cliched they are). On the W front, you have a huge open world with minimal loading breaks — individual zones are huge in area and packed with things to do: monsters to kill, quests to complete, people to find. Straddling the line between both, we have an excellent combat system somewhat reminiscent of MMOs like World of Warcraft or, probably more accurately, Guild Wars.

Why the Guild Wars comparison? Well, like that game, you only have a finite number of skills which can be "equipped" at once, from a larger potential bank. The number of skills you acquire in Xenoblade Chronicles isn't as ridiculous as NCSoft's title, but then you do have several characters to manage all at once. Mercifully, you only have to control one of them at once, with the AI doing an excellent job of performing whatever role each character is ideally suited to in the party.

Gameplay-wise, it's top notch. Simply proceeding through the areas, completing quests and following the story when I'd "cleared" an area was enough to get me almost to the very end — there was only a few levels' worth of grinding required to safely get through the home straight, and by that point you've learned plenty of EXP-boosting skills so it's not as painful as it could be.

This is all very clinical and mechanical — and that's fine, as an RPG can live or die on its mechanics. But the real star of the show in Xenoblade Chronicles is its cast. Brilliantly voiced by an English cast, the characters are all memorable and, despite my "floppy haired protagonist" comment earlier, manage to not fall into the usual stereotypes. Each of them is an interesting individual whom you get to know throughout the course of the game, both through story sequences and through optional "heart to heart" conversations, where two characters have a chat and come away from it either liking each other a little more or a little less.

Characterisation isn't just limited to story sequences, however — different combinations of characters in a battle party elicit different battle cries and responses to one another. And, as characters develop their Affinity for one another, they start to talk to each other during battle differently, often engaging in some light-hearted banter that makes them seem a lot more human. Okay, you'll hear "what a bunch of jokers!" and "my rifle's getting hotter!" an awful lot throughout the course of the game, but on the rare occasions where they start teasing each other after a successful battle, it'll definitely raise a smile.

For me, the sign of a good RPG is whether you have a kind of "empty" feeling after it's all over — you won't be spending any more time with these characters, and that's sad. I felt it particularly strongly with Persona 4, whose ending sequence made me tear up, and I'm not ashamed at all to admit it. Xenoblade Chronicles gives me that feeling, too. It's a different sort of ending to Persona, but once it's over you have very much left those characters behind to get on with their lives in their post-adventure world. It's a bittersweet moment.

By far the saddest thing about Xenoblade Chronicles, however, is how few people will get to play it. While it got a release in this country, it's likely to become harder and harder to find as the months go on — and there's sure to be plenty of people who will dismiss it out of hand purely because it's on the Wii. This isn't even getting into the whole fiasco of Nintendo of America stubbornly refusing to bring the game to the States, despite there clearly being an audience for it. The game is already translated and ready to go — we Europeans have to deal with American spellings in most games, so would it really kill you to put up with the words "armour" and "learnt"? No — but Nintendo of America apparently doesn't see it that way, presumably believing that sales will be poor.

The thing is, though, Nintendo is in a difficult position right now. The 3DS is ailing, the Wii is fading and the core of the gamer community has all but left the company behind. For Nintendo of America to bring Xenoblade Chronicles to the States would be a gesture of goodwill to all the loyal fans who still defend the company, even amid its gradual move away from the core audience. It would give people more faith in Nintendo's current and future products, and, in the long term, it would help attract people to the Wii U as people see it as a system that will cater to the core.

Sadly, it doesn't appear it's going to happen — so if you're an American and you would very much like to play Xenoblade Chronicles, I would say don't hesitate — import it, mod your Wii and enjoy. There's over a hundred hours of absolutely top-tier entertainment there, and you will not regret the time you spend in its highly distinctive world.

Now I better go to bed. Off to Legoland tomorrow!

#oneaday Day 647: Badvertising

There are some truly awful adverts on TV at the moment. The trouble is, I can name pretty much every one of them, meaning that this badvertising is actually proving effective, meaning that there'll inevitably be more of it. Worse, people actually seem to actively like some of this stupid nonsense, meaning they go viral and enter culture at large.

Let's take the Confused.com adverts. These have developed a life of their own over the years. Formerly, their crazy-haired mascot was just that — a mascot or, more accurately, a logo. Now, however, she's jumping around, singing some butchered version of YMCA which has been badly edited so it doesn't flow properly and, to make it even worse, the animators have actually taken the time to make her boobs jiggle.

The butchering of a popular song seems to be a much-used approach at the moment. DHL do it with their latest, which puts some nonsense about "logistics" (don't even get me started on that one) in place of "That's Amoré" or whatever the song is actually called. And there are doubtless others out there.

Then we have hair care and beauty products, which are in a whole world of their own. One commercial at the moment actually promises "even more science". Others make up lists of "seven signs of aging" or "thirty-eight signs of damaged hair" or "twelve signs your vagina is about to fall out". For example.

One of the best-worst adverts at the moment is for Müller yogurts. It's an impressive homage to kids' TV of the past, featuring characters like Yogi Bear and the Mr Men in some sort of terrifying dystopian future where cartoon characters are possessing humanity, but it has absolutely nothing to do with yogurt. You can guarantee it will have been a subject of discussion at water coolers across the country, but will it sell yogurts? I have no idea.

By far the most infuriating place to watch ads is on YouTube, which appears to carry a library of approximately two ads at any one time and play the same ones every time you want to watch a TV programme, then again halfway through. Thankfully, recently, a bug in the system means that they often cut off early, leading to some interesting edits — the best of which is clearly the Coors advert, which opens with Jean Claude van Damme saying "Hello, I am van Damme. My pants froze," and often cuts off at just that point.

Advertising serves a purpose, of course. Without it some things wouldn't get funded. But does it have to be quite so fucking irritating?

#oneaday Day 646: The Industry that Won't Grow Up

Here in the UK, it's the Games Media Awards this evening, an event run by trade publication MCV — arguably one of the biggest and most reliable sources of industry news in the business. The awards ceremony should be a great honour for those nominated — national recognition for the work you do is something which should be celebrated, and the tireless hours of work that those who work for various publications and websites put in should be rewarded with something like this.

Unfortunately, for me at least, there's something of a problem: the way these awards are being marketed, particularly on Twitter. Doubtless someone somewhere along the way has been looking at the eternally-bizarre Betfair Poker account and decided that they'd try to do their own "self aware Twitter account" thing for the GMAs. There's crude humour, promises of "industry boobs" (which — ha ha — turn out to be images of male nipples from a feature on the UFC personal trainer game that came out a while back) and generally very little discussion of the reason the awards actually exist — the games media and the good work they do.

In the last 24 hours, the GMAs Twitter account has encouraged everyone to turn up to the awards ceremony nude, noted that "if by this time tomorrow we're not unprofessionally drunk, we're doing something wrong" and publicly ridiculed anyone who decided to speak out against the attitude on display. For me, that doesn't instil me with a particularly large degree of confidence in the credibility of the awards, however big the sponsors are — and they're pretty big.

I'm not saying the awards and the way they're promoted should be po-faced and boring — far from it. But I'd much rather see the industry's achievements being celebrated than puerile jokes better suited to the playground — great stuff gets written every day, yet in 24 hours of tweets leading up to the announcement of the award winners, precisely one tweet (itself a retweet from a reputable journalist on MCV) called attention to a good piece of work published online. The rest promised boobs, nudity and drunkenness. And while I don't doubt there will be plenty of drinking at the GMAs ceremony tonight, to revel in it quite so much on the official account seems… I don't know, inappropriate.

The problem is partly that gaming itself is stuck in a curious cultural position somewhere betwixt "creative medium", "kids' toys" and "big business". The disparate elements aren't always entirely compatible with one another, and it can often lead to accusations of the industry being "immature" — an argument lent weight by the number of games that fulfil childish (and usually stereotypically male) fantasies such as playing soldiers, flying spaceships and killing monsters.

But the thing is, the industry as a whole does seem very much to want to grow up. The very existence of ceremonies like the BAFTAs for games and even the GMAs themselves suggest that the industry and those who work in it do so desperately want to be taken seriously, to be seen as a worthwhile part of society rather than being regarded in the Daily Mail light of "destroying childhood" and the like. Unfortunately for those people who think talking about boobs and drunkenness on the official account for an awards ceremony is the right thing to do, that means knowing when to turn off the smut and turn on the professionalism — because if you don't, it simply undermines everything you're trying to do for the industry and destroys your credibility.

Sadly, though, from what I have seen, I appear to be in a minority in feeling this way — worse, by posting this, it's entirely possible I'm opening myself up to public ridicule by the account in question itself. Still, if that does happen I think it will prove my point rather aptly.

#oneaday Day 645: Roll Your Own iOS Shovelware Game

There are some truly great games on the iOS platform. But there's also an awful lot of complete pap, most of which comes in the form of ripoffs of other, more successful games that got the formula just right. Now you, too, can be a part of gaming's mobile revolution by designing your very own iOS game! All you have to do is fill in the blanks in the press release after the jump.

Are you ready? Then let's begin. Continue reading "#oneaday Day 645: Roll Your Own iOS Shovelware Game"

#oneaday Day 644: This Post is Pre-Owned and Proud

Fellow daily blogger and #oneaday 2010 alumnus Ian Dransfield posted a good rant about Online Passes earlier, and I thought I'd add my two-penneth.

These arguments have been made before, and will doubtless be made again, but people need to stand up to this behaviour and stop defending it. Why? It's quite simple.

Online passes are completely indefensible.

It really is that simple. There is no reason for a publisher to lock off sections of content from people who have purchased copies of their games legally other than the completely mercenary "to make extra money." Sure, publishers don't make any money from preowned game sales — the thing which systems like this have been clearly set up to combat — but let's look back, shall we? We survived the PS2 era with a flourishing second-hand game market. Grew enormously, you might say. Even the early part of this console generation did just fine without requiring you to enter three or four codes before you can even play the fucking game you paid money for.

One frequently trotted out excuse from publishers is that online passes help pay for server space and maintenance. Again, in previous generations and on the PC, that has never been an issue, so it's a spurious argument at best. The argument is often extended to point out that when a second-hand copy of a game is sold, some space on the server must be created for the new player when, in fact, an extra copy of the game has not been paid for. Fine, but bollocks; the previous player is no longer playing it because he traded it in, meaning their precious server space can be taken up by the new owner. Easy.

This isn't even getting into the fact that this argument is completely destroyed by games such as Arkham City, which lock single player content behind an online pass. And exactly what, pray, are those gamers who don't have their consoles connected to the Internet supposed to do? Just go without? Well, yes, apparently, so it seems.

It astonishes me (and Ian, for that matter) that there are people out there who will happily defend this obnoxious practice — people who are the very consumers getting bummed senseless by it. It's unnecessary, it's indefensible and it's just plain rude to consumers. And it's giving me pause when considering whether or not to purchase new games — an issue which started to grow as DLC and later Game of the Year editions started to rear their heads.

Let's take Uncharted 3 — a game which, by all accounts so far, is likely to be pretty brilliant. The Uncharted series is known for its excellent single player campaigns with strong stories, wonderful characters and spectacular setpieces. And yet news has emerged recently that the game will be making use of both an online pass to access the multiplayer, and a Season Pass allowing people to "preorder" downloadable content. The presence of both of these rubbish things is making me not want to purchase a new copy of Uncharted 3 when it's released. Because I'm unlikely to play the multiplayer anyway, I may as well wait a while and pick up a preowned copy for cheaper, thereby depriving Sony and Naughty Dog of the money that I actually wanted to give them for producing a spectacular game.

I'm hoping these horrific business practices will cause the "mainstream" part of the industry to implode at some point in the future, because at the moment the vast majority of the gaming population is proudly presenting its collective posterior to the likes of EA, THQ and Ubisoft and allowing itself to be repeatedly violated with a large phallus made of money. It doesn't have to be like that. If an independently developed game such as Dungeon Defenders can be one of the most-played online games on PC while costing $15 and without demanding anyone purchase any kind of pass for the privilege of playing online, then large publishers such as EA clearly don't need any money.

The sad thing is, though, that the desire to play the latest and greatest games as soon as they're released is a far stronger impulse than the "hang on, I'm being bum-burgled here" sensation. People want to play things day one, and by buying new copies they figure the online pass thing won't affect them. But in doing so, they're indirectly giving publishers the A-OK to carry on with these anti-consumer measures. And that's not OK.

#oneaday Day 643: Out, Hyperbolical Fiend!

I think I'm allergic to hyperbole.

Well, okay, maybe "allergic" isn't quite the right word. I don't break out in a rash or anything any time someone says that something popular is good. But I do tend to find that excessive hype actually dulls my enthusiasm for something rather than fuels the fires as it may once have done in the dim and distant past.

Take the recent release of Batman Arkham City. By all accounts, it's a marvellous game (apparently) but I have very little desire to rush out, buy it and play it. There are a number of reasons for this — cashflow, the fact my Pile of Shame grows seemingly by the day at times, and the fact I'm still playing Xenoblade Chronicles — but seeing the relentless fawning all over it recently has been a little offputting. I find it doubly offputting due to the anti-consumer practices which have been foisted upon it — for the unfamiliar, a chunk of game content is locked off behind a single-use code, meaning that only people who purchase the game brand new will be able to access it without paying extra.

From what I've heard, this butchered content actually isn't particularly good, anyway, so at least that's something — but it still smarts to know that companies are wilfully screwing over consumers in the hope to make an extra buck. There is literally no good reason for this to be implemented in the case of Arkham City, which is a single player game. Online passes which lock off multiplayer modes can use the "it's helping to pay for the servers" argument, which is slightly more plausible, though which can still be easily debunked.

But we're not talking specifically about Online Passes here. We're talking about hyperbole in general.

The "big games" of the year are all coming out within the next few weeks, and it's surprising how little I care. I attribute this to several factors: firstly, most of them are first-person shooters that involve Soldiers With Guns, and secondly, having seen the PR circus teasing pointless information about them for the last [x] months, I'm sick of the sight of them already and they're not even out yet.

I perhaps wouldn't be quite so sick of the sight of them were it not for the fact that the publishers of these heavily-hyped titles treat them as "products" or "consumables" rather than what they actually are, which is interactive creative works.

Let me give you some sample quotes from press releases to give you an idea of what we're dealing with here.

This delay is a move to ensure players and fans of our promise and vision to produce high-caliber games that deliver the best quality game experience.

— Sony, on the Payday: The Heist delay.

We are thrilled to see Ezio enter the world of Soulcalibur, as we believe the values of both brands fit together. We think that this partnership will bring a great new gameplay experience to both Soulcalibur and Assassin's Creed fans.

— Ubisoft, on Ezio being the guest character in Soulcalibur V.

Letting fans vote for the UFC Undisputed 3 cover athlete is a unique way for us to connect with our extensive worldwide audience of UFC fans, fighting game enthusiasts and more casual sports followers. We look forward to seeing if Jon Jones, Anderson Silva, Georges St-Pierre or Cain Velasquez has what it takes to grace the cover of what will be the most invigorating MMA videogame release to date.

— THQ, on the pointless social media marketing ploy that is getting people to vote for what sweaty man will appear on the box of UFC Undisputed 3.

As you can see, these titles are being treated as products, commodities, things to be sold. All soul is sucked out of them any time you let someone with a title that includes "Vice President of [pointless-sounding department]" or "CEO" talk about it. Meaningless adjectives are applied, and talk turns to "brands" and "engaging with audiences" rather than "making a fucking badass game".

The developers should be talking about these games. The people who are creating them, building them, testing them. Not some suit who has probably never picked up a controller by choice in his life.

Imagine how much better a press release would be if it were written by the developers and they were allowed to show some enthusiasm and/or honesty about their work, rather than sticking to a rigidly defined PR schedule.

In fact, let's do better than that. Let's write one.

LONDON, October 23 2011 — Studio A33 today announced their new game "Hobbit Blasters", soon to be available for PC, PS3 and Xbox 360.

The game revolves around the tired old concept of pointing a gun at things and pulling the trigger, but this one features arcade-style point scoring with big numbers and loud noises that make it more fun than anything you've ever played ever.

"Seriously, you know, it might sound a bit lame," said Dave Thunder, lead programmer on the project, "but give it a chance. Hobbits are annoying. No-one ever seemed to comment on that fact when Lord of the Rings was big. We're allowing you to blow the shit out of those little scrotes in HD and you wouldn't believe how satisfying it is, particularly if the guys from the publisher have been in all morning making us sit through pointless meetings about stock value and other things we really couldn't give a flying fuck about. There's blood and guts and it really, positively, absolutely is fun, I promise. And if it isn't, you can have £10 of my own money. And a pint. And a cake."

Hobbit Blasters is in early stages of development but Studio A33 is more than happy to show off its work, warts and all, to any who are interested in seeing it.

"It's a bit shit at the minute," said Sally Harpy, lead graphic designer on the project. "But that's to be expected. We've not long been working on it. What do you want, stunning graphics from day one? Give me a fucking break here. I've been slaving over concept artwork for months, and now I have to implement all that shite into the game. But if you want to come and have a look, be my guest."

Hobbit Blasters is due out when it's finished.

#oneaday Day 642: M-M-M-Multiplay!

I don't generally play a lot of multiplayer games. There are a number of reasons for this, chief among which being the fact that I never seem to be any good at any I try out — or perhaps it's just that the sort of people who play multiplayer-focused games tend to play them to such a degree that they get really, really good at them and take great delight in "pwning noobs" or whatever imbeciles like to call it.

Cooperative games fare a little better but I've always found myself hesitant to take on cooperative challenges with anyone other than friends that I know well and trust. I have never played Left 4 Dead with anyone other than people I have been talking to and playing with for many years now. Perhaps this reflects my own idealised view of what I would like the situation to be were a real zombie apocalypse to happen — I would want to be with people I trust.

Part of the matter is due to the attitude of some people online, however. I recall giving Dungeons and Dragons Online: Stormreach a go a while back and liking the game a great deal, until I did a dungeon run with a party, at least one of whom had obviously done the quest before. I was still new to the game and learning how it worked, so I made a few mistakes along the way, and a rather poorly-designed platforming part towards the end of the quest caused me a bit of difficulty. Rather than having a good laugh about it afterwards, like I would have done were it someone else in the same situation, I ended up with a torrent of abuse hurled in my direction. I logged off and never went back. An overreaction perhaps, but I was in no hurry to spoil something that was supposed to be fun with the bad attitude of arrogant people who think they know best.

I don't play much multiplayer on Xbox because I don't like voice chat, for reasons outlined here. And also, there aren't that many games that support multiplayer on Live that I'm in a great hurry to indulge in — the Xbox has a reputation as "the shooter console" for a reason. There are exceptions — I loved Need for Speed Hot Pursuit online, and Burnout Paradise could often be a lot of fun, but driving games were often also prone to the "everyone else is better than you" problem.

This lengthy preamble is a way of leading up to the fact that I am very much enjoying playing Trendy Entertainment's excellent Dungeon Defenders in the manner in which it is supposed to be enjoyed — multiplayer. Sure, you can play it single-player, but you'd be a fool to do so, since it's extremely difficult solo, and even more so with certain classes. Rather, it's a game that is well balanced for its four player cooperative action, and features a good balance between cooperation, competitiveness and communication.

I've played a few games of it now, and the best sessions I've had were the ones where people were communicating — not in a "hurry up u noob" sort of way, but in a helpful "this is going to happen on this wave, so put that there and then be ready for it" sort of way. I'm always pleasantly surprised when I come across people like that, and I always make a point of thanking them after the game when I do so. It's a genuine pleasure to play this sort of game in the way it was designed — with up to four people working together for a common goal and helping each other out along the way, rather than berating each other for their mistakes.

To cut a long story short, I'm of the strong belief that Dungeon Defenders will be the first game in a very long time that will see me regularly playing online with random strangers. My first experiences have been so good that I don't feel any of the usual uneasiness about partying up with randomers to hack a few orcs to pieces. It helps that the game itself is excellent and easily understandable, too, and challenging without being unfair.

If you haven't checked it out yet and the idea of an action RPG crossed with a tower defense game sounds like something that appeals, I strongly recommend you give it a shot. It's $15 (or local equivalent) on Steam, and also available via PSN and Xbox Live Arcade. I haven't played the console versions, but I will say that the mouse and keyboard controls of the PC version work extremely well

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another dungeon to defend before bed.

#oneaday Day 641: In Which I Berate the Games Industry for Being Fickle

Oh dear, everyone. Do make your mind up. About everything. And stick to what you believe.

Just a few months ago, roughly halfway between Black Ops coming out and the Battlefield 3/Modern Warfare 3 combo being announced, everyone had decided for the umpteenth time that they were, in fact, sick of games involving Soldiers With Guns. Originality was dying, we regularly heard, and commercialism was diluting the creativity of gaming down into a series of lowest-common denominator products designed purely to cater to the largest possible audience — seemingly, the beer-chugging dudebro. (Yes, I know some ladies play Call of Duty, too. But like it or not, gaming is still an overwhelmingly male-dominated pastime.)

Fast forward until now and suddenly everyone is happily spaffing in the faces of Battlefield 3 and Modern Warfare 3 with looks of rapturous ecstasy on their faces. I'm sure they will both turn out to be competent games with pleasingly spectacular visuals, but nothing has changed — they're still games set in war-torn cities featuring Soldiers With Guns. I still have precisely zero interest in them, so what has caused people to suddenly decide that actually, no, we don't have quite enough games featuring Soldiers With Guns in them?

I'm not objecting to the fact that these games exist on anything other than a personal level — I'm quite aware that there are plenty of people out there who play, enjoy and even love them. The thing that is bugging me is the fickleness on display by the industry and the public. Popular opinion seems to ping-pong from one extreme to another — "I hate this!" to "This is the best thing ever!" overnight. And, seemingly, it's taboo to speak out and say "Hang on a minute…" — largely because in these days of publisher dominance over review scores, we all know what the consequences of rating something slightly below what everyone else rates it is. You get a Cliffy B (or equivalent) ranting and raving and crying that his product has been treated unfairly.

I have played a bit of Modern Warfare 3. It was fun-ish. It didn't make me want to rush out and buy it. I was playing the co-op Survival mode. We played, we shot men and dogs, we survived. It was nothing I hadn't done before in many other shooters, and in many cases in much more fun situations. Killing Floor, for example, is very similar to Modern Warfare 3's Survival mode but is much more fun owing to its variety of enemies and settings that go beyond war-torn towns.

I have not, on the other hand, played Battlefield 3. My totally uninformed position gives me a sneaking suspicion that things might take on a similar turn there. While the FrostBite 2 engine is undoubtedly pretty and gorgeous and capable of lovely feats of graphical marvellousness, as we regularly heard in the early days of the CD-ROM revolution, graphics do not make a good game. Battlefield 3 is, as far as I can make out, also not doing anything hugely revolutionary that hasn't been done elsewhere before. Military shooters are a dime-a-dozen, and military shooters with vehicles have been done before, too — and on larger-scale maps by titles such as ArmA.

I don't dislike the genre per se — to sound like a Daily Mail reader desperately trying to prove he's not a racist for a moment, some of my favourite experiences with past games have been in the shooter genre. Wolfenstein 3D, Doom, Duke Nukem 3D, No-One Lives Forever, SiN, TimeSplitters — all are examples of an overcrowded genre, but all, too, are examples of games which go a step beyond just being a cookie-cutter game involving Soldiers With Guns.

And yet two almost identical-looking games featuring Soldiers With Guns are tipped to be the biggest-selling titles of the year, while other games fall by the wayside. Where's the justice?

Live and let live, I guess. So long as there are people online for me to play Dungeon Defenders with — and there seem to be plenty at the moment, thankfully — I'll happily leave the Soldiers With Guns fans to their business and get on with mine. But I still wish that for once, when everyone finally tires of Battlefield 3 and Modern Warfare 3 and the inevitable sequels to both get announced halfway through next year, people will actually stick to their guns (no pun intended) for once and say "No! Look, we've had enough. Do something different, for fuck's sake."

I don't see it happening, however. Still, as I say, so long as the more creative underbelly of the industry continues to thrive as it does, I'll happily go on supporting the games that no-one else is playing. It's a much more exclusive club, and one that's a pleasure to be a part of.

#oneaday Day 640: Defending the Dungeon

I find myself in vaguely familiar surroundings, though I'm not quite sure of the best way to proceed. Fortunately, one of my companions steps up to the plate. She's a young, pretty elf, and she packs a mean-looking minigun. I'm inclined to follow her suggestions.

"Put down a wall there," she says, clearly indicating the place she's referring to. I oblige, hastily battering together an impromptu blockade of wood, steel and spiky bits.

"Now one here," she adds, nimbly leaping over to another pathway towards the crystal. "And one over the other side, too." Her friend, clad in his robe and wizard hat, lollops over and drops a few mana crystals to help me pay for the defenses we're setting up. I follow her instructions, and soon enough we're ready.

"Chaaaaarge!"

We hear the cry from behind the door before they arrive. My mind wanders for a moment, thinking that it was awfully nice of the incoming hordes to wait until we were ready before attacking, but I am quickly snapped back to the present by the sight of what looks like a small army approaching.

I leap into action, swinging my sword wildly and knocking goblins left, right and centre. Green blood sprays from their lifeless corpses as they fall to the ground — they don't even reach my blockades, so weak are they against my swordsmanship. I glance to the sides and see my compatriots covering the other doorways in their own distinctive, inimitable styles. Our erstwhile leader is mucking in with her minigun just as much as the rest of us, and before long the doors slam shut, the crystal safe for a little longer.

This time, we agree that I should put some harpoon launchers behind my blockades just to make doubly sure that none of the advancing hordes get anywhere near the crystal. They prove surprisingly effective, especially when combined with the magical structures that my robe-and-hat-clad companion also summons out of thin air. Before long, we're taking another breather, but it's clear that this time, things are a little different. There's an air of tension about the group, as if it knows something terrible is about to happen.

The doors fly open again, and another swarm of enemies  troops into the chamber. I wade in, cutting through them like butter, knocking them aside, into pools of lava and down seemingly bottomless pits. These dungeons are dangerous, and surely having pools of lava beneath your castle can't be a great idea, I think.

Suddenly, the incoming enemies seem to stop, and there's a noise.

Thud.

There it is again.

Thud.

And again.

Thud.

Louder, this time.

THUD.

Something big is coming. We look frantically around the room to prepare for whatever it is that's headed our way, and our gaze falls upon the mysterious alchemical equipment left here long ago by our apprentice friend's forebears. The pretty elf nods, and we steel ourselves just before a huge demon bursts through the ceiling, roaring in fury.

I charge straight at him but am immediately knocked back by a wave of fire. The pretty elf gestures to one of the pieces of equipment down the side of the room and charges towards one herself. Following her lead, I smash the device as hard as I can with my sword, and strange, crackling, blue energy emits from it. Our two other companions do the same, and before long there's a whirling maelstrom of the crackling blue energy, converging on the demonic beast bearing down on the pretty elf.

It worked! He spasms and judders, unable to move. We immediately leap in and start attacking him — his thick skin is like stone, but from his howls of pain, it's clear we're hurting him. He breaks free of his energy prison and roars again, flames bursting forth from his body and knocking us back. He's on the ropes, though, so if we can just do it again…

He falls, the impact of his massive body hitting the floor making the whole room shake. Gigantic, valuable-looking mana crystals burst forth from his corpse and we gather them up greedily — this stuff is better than gold coins. There's an air of calm over the strange laboratory, and it's clear that this area is safe, for now. But this is just one of many of the Eternia Crystals that we've been tasked with defending. Can we live up to the bold example set by our ancestors?

Only time will tell — but we'll have a lot of fun doing it. So can you.