2441: That Racing Game I Always Wanted

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The more I play The Crew, the more I like it, and the more I'm surprised that it only got middling reviews which, consequently, led to it being one of Ubisoft's lesser-known, less popular games. (Actually, I'm not at all surprised about middling reviews, because we all know how (in)accurate reviews are these days, and how meaningless scores are.)

Fortunately, Ubisoft doesn't appear to have taken these middling reviews to heart and neither does the player base, as there always seem to be plenty of people online when I boot up The Crew, and its second expansion Calling All Units is due to hit in November.

The Crew is pretty much everything I've come to want from a racing game over the years, and very few games have successfully provided for these wants so comprehensively. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that The Crew is probably the only racing game I've played that ticks pretty much every single one of the boxes in my imaginary checklist for my "dream racing game".

First up, let's talk about the open world. I've been fascinated with the idea of open world driving games ever since I played Test Drive II on the Atari ST and wished that I could go off the predefined routes to explore. I never got to play it, but I was particularly enamoured with the idea of Test Drive III's move to open environments, as primitive as they were with their early untextured 3D polygons. Then open world racing games actually became a thing with the Midnight Club and Need for Speed Underground series — the latter of which set in place a formula for the series that it hasn't deviated from ever since.

The Club takes the concept of an open world racing game to an extreme level, offering a world that represents the entire United States. Unlike a full-on simulator, this depiction isn't entirely true to life and is scaled down somewhat — you can drive from Key West to Miami in two minutes — but this makes sense for the purposes of fun. Real driving isn't fun, largely because it still takes a very long time to get anywhere; video game driving, however, needs to be fun to keep people interested, and to this end The Crew provides an open world that is manageable in size but packed with enough hidden bits and pieces to make it well worth exploring rather than just proceeding from mission to mission.

The best thing about The Crew's use of a miniaturised United States as its open-world setting is that it allows for a hugely diverse landscape. There's the wasteland of Arizona. There's the swampland of the Deep South. There's the twisting, turning, tree-clad mountain roads of the central mountain states. And, of course, there are the various cities, each of which have numerous landmarks present and correct. It's a delight to drive around and a pleasure to explore in search of data uplinks and hidden car parts.

So open-world driving is one box that The Crew ticks. What else do I want from a racing game? Well, as much as I've tried to enjoy the Gran Turismos and Forza Motorsports over the years, I came to the conclusion a while back that I'm just not a driving sim kinda guy. My taste lies with arcade-style handling a la Ridge Racer, in which it's possible to slide sideways around a corner with just a hint of a tap on the brakes.

The Crew very much delivers in this department, and with some variety, too. Each car you get in the game can be specced out with different "classes" ranging from full stock (the basic model, no modifications) through "street" (tuned for street racing), "dirt" (more suited for rallying), "perf" (high-performance, particularly suited for street and circuit racing) and "raid" (super-strong and eminently suitable for complete offroading). Each of these specs feels very different to drive, too. The perf spec cars are fast and can pull off some impressive drifts, but don't get much air if you fly off a jump and do not do at all well if you leave the tarmac. The raid cars sit high off the ground but provide an enjoyably bumpy ride as you ignore all the roads on the map and just leap over hills at every opportunity. The dirt cars get convincingly filthy and throw up dust clouds as you power them around unpaved roads, sliding sideways around corners like a pro.

It's not at all realistic, in other words, but at no point is it trying to be. It wants to be fun, and by God it succeeds at that. I love driving in The Crew. It's just fun to drive around the map, even without a mission. Throw in the fact that the missions are accompanied by dialogue and dramatic, cinematic-style music and you have an absolutely thrilling game.

Which brings us on to the story aspect. The Crew's storyline is cheesy and stupid, just like The Fast and the Furious, but it's entertaining and does its job. It has some good characters including some loathsome villains, and the protagonist (played by the ever-popular Troy Baker) does a good job of deadpanning his way through some genuinely amusing lines.

I've been hungry for a "driving game with a plot" ever since I learned of the existence of Racing Lagoon on the PS1, and endured the subsequent disappointment that it never got localised. (I understand that it was supposedly not that good in the first place, but I would have liked the opportunity to judge for myself.) Various games over the years have toyed with adding a plot — most notably EA's Need for Speed series — but they always seem incredibly half-hearted, all but abandoning any attempt at storytelling once the game gets going.

The Crew is different, though. It keeps its plot flowing at a good pace, and you feel like you're taking part in a Fast and Furious movie. As I say, it's dumb and stupid, but it's good dumb and stupid — the sort of summer blockbuster fare that would get you munching on your popcorn as if your life depended on it. It draws you in and makes you interested, and rewards progress through the game with satisfying (and impressively realistic) cutscenes.

Finally, there's the "RPG" aspect of the game. The one thing I always liked about Forza Motorsport and Gran Turismo was the part where you earned money and bolted bits on to your car to make it better. Where that part fell down for me was in the tuning aspect, where the game expected you to understand how cars worked in order to fine-tune all the settings to their optimal levels. Fine for true petrolheads; less good for people like me who just want to power around a course and feel cool while doing it.

The Crew adopts an almost Diablo-esque loot system in which every event you complete in the game, big or small, rewards you with a part that you can either stock or equip on the car you're currently driving. Parts come in bronze, silver and gold variants, with the gold versions naturally being considerably better than the bronze.

You don't need to know what a "differential" is in order to enjoy this system, though, much as you don't need to know exactly what the purpose of each piece of armour is in a loot-whoring RPG. Instead, each part simply affects one of your car's core performance stats — acceleration, top speed, braking and grip — and contributes to an overall "level" for the car. The higher your car's level, the better it is — and you can leave it at that if you so desire, or you can further customise and specialise your car by mixing and matching parts in order to emphasise a particular stat if you so desire. It's a simple but effective system that allows even non-mechanically minded people to enjoy a feeling of progress and advancement without ever having to touch a gear ratio menu.

The Crew is marketed as an MMO but I must confess I haven't dipped my toes into the multiplayer at all as yet. The story is enjoyable enough in single player — and feels like it's been designed with single player in mind, with the possible exception of the "takedown" events, which would doubtless be much easier with four people — but it looks as if there will be more than enough things left to do in multiplayer once you reach the end of the story. It has its own "endgame", if you will, which I can't comment on with any authority just yet, but I'm interested to explore, particularly the "Summit" events that were introduced with the Wild Run expansion.

If you haven't yet grabbed your free copy of The Crew from Ubisoft, you've got until October 11 to do so — head on over here to do so. What have you got to lose? And if you are already playing, do feel free to add me as a friend via UPlay — my tag there is "AngryJedi" — and send me a message if you want to try any aspect of the game's multiplayer; I'm keen to give it a go!

2438: Gunslinger

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Eager for a short palate-cleanser after polishing off Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force last night, I sought the counsel of my online friends. Mr Alex Connolly was first to answer the call, suggesting Call of Juarez: Gunslinger, a game which I recall had everyone very excited a few years back, and a game which someone — possibly Mr Connolly himself — had provided me with a gift copy of at some point in the recent past.

I have no experience with the Call of Juarez series as a whole, or with Westerns in general, but I was willing to give it a shot (no pun intended) as it had been so well-received on its original release — particularly for the amount of content it offered for its budget-tier price.

I liked it enough to play through the whole thing today, but I was left with mixed feelings. There were some things I really, really liked about it, and a couple of things I absolutely detested.

Let's start with the positives, chief among which is the story and the way it is handled. Presented as the recollections of ageing bounty hunter Silas Greaves, the game unfolds over the course of a series of levels punctuated by attractive cutscenes featuring the Silas of today and the companions in the saloon that he is telling his tall tale to. During gameplay, Old Silas narrates the action — with his descriptions reflecting what you're doing and the choices that you make along the way — as well as performs most of the dialogue on the cast's behalf.

Gunslinger particularly plays with the "unreliable narrator" trope through Silas presenting alternative explanations of what happened — sometimes saying "well, I could have done this…" at which point you have to play through the hypothetical situation before it rewinds to what actually happened. Silas also posits that much of the history of the Old West as told by "dime novels" isn't quite what happened, and in fact he just happened to be present for some of the most notorious events in the region alongside the most notorious outlaws of the period. Indeed, in the game you run into everyone from Jesse James to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, though with Silas' flair for the dramatic, you can never quite be sure if he was telling the truth all the way through his story.

Gameplay-wise, Gunslinger adopts a somewhat arcadey mould by featuring a combo system and points being awarded for kills. Kill bad guys in rapid succession and your multiplier climbs; dispatch them in ways other than just filling their torsos full of lead and you get additional base points multiplied by the multiplier. This isn't much of an issue in the story mode — though points convert directly to XP, which can unlock various passive skills that make Silas' journey a bit easier — but is brought to the forefront in the Arcade mode, where you're tasked with attaining high scores in short, narrative-free levels.

Gunslinger's style initially appears at odds with its gameplay mechanics, because you're using Old West weaponry — six-shooters and rifles that are painfully slow to reload, breaking the "flow" of combat somewhat. Unlock a few skills, however, and you'll find things become much more fast-paced and frantic, particularly once you obtain the ability to repeatedly hammer the reload button to reload more quickly. By the end of the game there's a nice rhythm to the combat for the most part, and the story provides sufficient incentive to continue exploring.

There are two real things I didn't like at all about Gunslinger, however. First of these was the prompt "You're straying too far from the story…" that pops up if you walk more than three feet in the "wrong" direction during a level. This is simply bad game design; the levels should be designed in such a way that the player is confined to the "story area" without feeling like they're confined. If there's open space, let them use it! This became a particular issue in the final level as the Sundance Kid bore down on Silas with a shotgun; it was impossible to get more than a few feet away from him to hide without this annoying message popping up, which also happened to break Silas out of a sprint any time it appeared, too.

The other thing I didn't like was the dueling system, although it was stylistically appropriate for the genre. In duels, you have to move Silas' hand back and forth with the A and D keys so that it's hovering over his holster, ready for a quick draw, while simultaneously manoeuvring an erratic, drunken mouse pointer over the enemy you're facing off against. Once the enemy draws, you have a split-second to click the mouse button to draw your pistol and shoot them dead before they do the same to you. Trouble is, even with high "speed"and "focus" ratings obtained by performing the aforementioned manipulations, it often seemed to be a matter of luck as to whether Silas actually drew his gun as you expected and managed to get off a shot. Supposedly you're able to dodge the bullets that come at you in this mode, but I don't think I ever successfully achieved this; all my duels were won by what felt like dumb luck and perseverance. Perhaps there's more to it than that, but I didn't like their execution at all.

Aside from these issues, I enjoyed Gunslinger a lot. Its story was presented in an unusual, effective manner and its levels were well designed with plenty of variety rather than all being set in drab, brown "Old West" type settings. I'm not sure whether I liked it enough to play through it again on the harder difficulties, but I'll probably check the Arcade mode out, at least. As for the mode where you can voluntarily subject yourself to more Duels? I think I'll pass!

2435: Memories: Read

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I finished Read Only Memories earlier. I liked it a lot! I posted a review on Steam, but I thought I'd post it here too because I'm feeling lazy.

Read Only Memories is an adventure game in the '90s mould, seeming to draw specific inspiration from titles like Snatcher and Rise of the Dragon, and set in the same world as the (later, and wonderful) VA-11 HALL-A.

On the whole, it's a great experience. The pixel art aesthetic really works for the game and has clearly been designed by people who know what good pixel art looks like. Everything about the interface, including the font, is well-designed to look like a retro adventure game, and the FM-synthesis soundtrack complements it nicely.

Puzzles are relatively thin on the ground but in a couple of cases are more interesting than "use the thing on the thing", which is worthy of note, though the final puzzle in the game seems to play by some inconsistent rules that can lead to failure seemingly by no fault of your own.

The story is well-written and filled with interesting characters, plus deserves note for having a number of possible solutions to various situations, though not all will lead to the "best" ending. The game encourages you to consider the consequences of your actions and the things that you choose to say, even though those consequences may not become apparent until much later. I very much liked that your behaviour over the course of the whole game affected some later events rather than choices having an immediate impact on what was going on.

The overall plot is one of tolerance and understanding, and strikes a good balance between casting the player (whom you can name and gender as you desire, since you never see them) as an "everyman" sort of character prone to putting their foot in their mouth when confronted by groups they don't quite understand, and presenting a solid message about acceptance, learning to trust one another and personal growth.

The only real criticism I'd level at the game is that its handling of gay and transgender characters feels a little ham-fisted, with their presence and the "reveals" of their identity seemingly being calculated to go "SURPRISE!" rather than simply blending them into the setting. Big burly, manly bartender dude? SURPRISE! Next time you meet him, he has another big hairy dude all over him calling him "hon" at every opportunity (though that said, I couldn't help but like Gus). Meet an eccentric, long-haired, bearded TV producer? SURPRISE! They're a lady! That and the presence of a non gender-specific character demonstrates just how awkward using singular "they" as a pronoun is in dialogue.

Ultimately it doesn't hurt the overall plot at all, but these instances stick out like sore thumbs when they happen as they just don't quite feel like they're in keeping with the tone: the implication elsewhere in the plot is that society has moved beyond discrimination by gender and sexuality, and instead onto discrimination against those who are "augmented" in some way, either through cybernetics or genetic hybridisation. To specifically draw attention to gay and transgender characters in this way as the game does feels counter to this implication, which is otherwise well handled.

This game's spiritual successor VA-11 HALL-A handles gay characters much more elegantly by them simply… just being there, no big deal, no big fuss about who they are, no sense that the game is holding you down and urging you to admire how progressive its views are.

I played this game before the big update that adds voice acting, and if you're interested in this game, I'd encourage you to do the same. The few parts of the game that do already have voice acting (just the intro and epilogue at present) are immensely jarring with the rest of the game's presentation, and the delightful beepityboopityboop noise that dialogue makes throughout the rest of the game is a much more powerful stimulus to the imagination than a voice actor whose interpretation of the character may not match the one you have in your head after reading the text.

Overall, Read Only Memories is a game I give a solid thumbs up. The issues I mentioned above are minor in the grand scheme of things, but hopefully the team will learn from them — and from the things VA-11 HALL-A did better, despite being produced by a different team — and produce even greater works in the future.

2434: Crewsin'

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I've been spending some time with Ubisoft's The Crew for the last few days. I actually picked it up shortly after release but didn't play it all that much. With the recent announcement that the base game would be free throughout September (you can still claim a copy here at the time of writing) I thought I'd give it another go.

What is The Crew? Allow me to elaborate in video form, because I can.

I'm left wondering why I didn't play The Crew more when it first released, because it occurs to me that it's what I wanted from a driving game for quite some time: the elusive ideal of the "caRPG", or an RPG with cars if you prefer less clumsy portmanteaus.

The Crew ticks all the boxes that I wanted. For one, it has a plot that is reasonably interesting and features some characters that, while a bit cliched, occasionally have some entertaining things to say — the protagonist offhandedly complaining to his FBI handler that he really wanted a shower because he'd been in his damn car for days was a nice bit of self-reference to the fact that The Crew doesn't have any on-foot missions. The plot itself may be Fast and Furious-level nonsense, but it works in context.

Secondly, it has a levelling system that is actually meaningful. Unlike games such as Forza Motorsport, which largely seem to have a levelling system just to show how long you've been playing, The Crew's levelling system actually works like one in a more conventional RPG — some gear is level-locked, your cars get more powerful as you level up and there's an MMO-style "endgame" once you reach the cap, further improving your abilities by getting better and better loot.

Which brings us on to the third point. The Crew is also a loot-whoring game, which is something I never thought I'd say about a racing game, but it's true. Any activity you complete rewards you with loot, with better results giving you better gear. You get immediate feedback on whether the gear is better or worse than your current setup by means of an "item level"-like system for each of your cars, and events have recommended vehicle levels so you never tackle anything that is going to be way too difficult for you.

In case you're still not quite convinced about The Crew secretly being an RPG, well, there are different classes of cars, too. Fullstock cars are exactly as they came out of the garage. Street cars are modified street-legal cars for road races. Dirt cars are suitable for offroading and stunts. Raid cars are powerhouses that can take a beating and dish one out too. Perf cars are extremely fast. And there's plenty more where that came from — even more with the Wild Run expansion, which adds several "extreme" specs to the list, too.

And then there's the multiplayer, which to be honest I haven't tried all that much yet. There's a sort of passive multiplayer a la Test Drive Unlimited as you zip around the open world, occasionally passing other players by. You can queue up for PvP-specific missions. You can recruit people to help you out with story missions, which then have to be played fully cooperatively — race missions, for example, mean that your teammates just have to make sure that you win by fair means or foul, whereas missions where you have to wreck a fleeing vehicle are likely to be much easier with company.

And on top of all that, The Crew makes driving around its vast open world interesting by 1) having some lovely scenery and 2) scattering Project Gotham-style skill challenges around the roads, tasking you with everything from slaloming around markers to simply getting as far away from your start point as possible. Each of these reward you with loot and experience, making them the equivalent of "trash" enemies in a more conventional RPG.

I'm enjoying the game a lot. Handling is enjoyably slidey and arcadey, just how I like it, and there's a ton of stuff to do, yet enough structure to ensure that you never get overwhelmed with too many options at any one time. And it feels like the best use of Ubisoft's open-world formula to date, with plenty of hidden things to find that reward you with experience, loot and even hidden cars to uncover.

The Crew is free for the rest of the month on PC. Be sure to claim your copy here.

2426: If You're Going to Play Multiplayer, FFS Stick it Out Until the End

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I played my ten placement matches for season 2 of Overwatch's Competitive mode earlier. Nine out of those ten games featured at least one salty asshole quitting the game early because their team lost a round — both on the team I was on and on the opposing team on different occasions — and in Competitive mode, the game doesn't backfill positions with people queued up to play like it does in Quick Play; when you queue for a Competitive game, you're put into a game from the very beginning rather than immediately joining one in progress if a space is available.

This was mildly annoying the first time it happened, but with each subsequent time it got more and more irritating. It's not only bad sportsmanship to strop off in a sulk if you're losing, it's also a major pain in the ass to the rest of your team. It would be akin to Wayne Rooney suddenly deciding that he doesn't feel like playing any more and wandering off the pitch in the middle of a football match. Except in Overwatch, the teams are only six people, so the loss of just one person is keenly and immediately felt.

The trouble that these early leavers have is that they can't handle losing. They're unwilling to accept the possibility that the team who just "lost" could enjoy a comeback in the subsequent round — this can and frequently does happen in Overwatch, which is mostly very well balanced like that — and instead ditch the match altogether, leaving their team a man or more down and on the way to what is now pretty much a guaranteed loss rather than something that could be fought back from.

What's particularly dumb about early leavers is that when they leave a game, the match is counted as a "loss" in their records anyway, so they're taking the worse option — a 100% chance of getting a loss versus a less-than-100% chance of getting a loss by staying and trying to help the rest of the team to a comeback.

I sort of understand. It can be demoralising to feel like you were steamrollered by another team who perhaps genuinely were more skilled than you. But it's the very height of special snowflake syndrome to believe that you are entitled to win every game you play — perhaps these players were the kids who grew up in schools that had sports days with "participation trophies" rather than actual winners. And clawing your way to a victory when the jaws of defeat were closing on you is immensely satisfying — my favourite games of Overwatch are the ones that end up being really close, not the ones where my team smashes our opponents into the ground.

Blizzard have penalties in place for those who leave matches early, but they're clearly not severe enough. For the Competitive scene in Overwatch to succeed, early leavers need to be actively discouraged through harsh punishments. I hope that the Overwatch team are paying attention to this problem and that it gets resolved in the next season of Competitive play.

In the meantime, if you're an online player, do the decent thing and see your matches through to conclusion, even if they don't seem to be going all that well. As I say, you keep playing, you have a less than 100% chance of getting a loss recorded on your all-important statistics. Leave early, however, and you absolutely definitely will get that loss. So stop being selfish pricks and play your damn matches to completion.

2419: Happy Anniversary, Titan Quest

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Titan Quest Anniversary Edition is currently just £5 on Steam, and it's completely free if you own any other Titan Quest products already. You should go buy it and play it, because I have spent most of the evening doing so and I like it a whole lot.

Titan Quest Anniversary Edition combines the original Titan Quest and its expansion Immortal Throne into one package, cleans the whole shebang up for modern computers — the original came out in 2006, hence the "anniversary" thing — and unleashes it on the world for existing fans and newcomers alike to enjoy.

Having never played Titan Quest, I fell into the latter category. It had just never quite appealed to me for some reason, despite it being the sort of hack and slash loot-whoring game I enjoy coupled with Greek mythology, which I was in love with as a child — and despite the game often being discussed in hushed, reverential whispers any time anyone brought it up.

£5 for a remastered version of the game and its expansion in one complete edition was too good an offer to turn down, though, so I took the plunge and gave it a go, partly to sate my own curiosity and partly to have something to play online with my friend Chris, who had also been going back and forth about whether or not he wanted it.

If you, like me, have never played Titan Quest, here's the deal. You play a male or female Greek person who initially has no character class. You save a farmer's horse from being eaten by satyrs, then you embark on a journey to cleanse the land of evil seemingly for no other reason than "because why not". Your character is given precisely no backstory and no real motivation to do their thing, but in this sort of game that's probably a good thing. While the lore in the Diablo games is substantial and interesting, its execution in-game leaves a lot to be desired, and in latest installment Diablo III in particular, by far the most enjoyable way to play the game is in "Adventure Mode", which dispenses with the narrative and linear structure altogether in favour of giving you freedom to go anywhere at any time to chase down various objectives.

Titan Quest doesn't quite go that far in abandoning the traditional narrative structure — you still progress from "unknown Greek person" to "hero of legend" over the course of the game — but the plot is very much de-emphasised in favour of the excellent mechanics.

At level 2, you unlock a "specialism" — essentially a character class with its own skill tree plus a mastery meter you need to pump skill points into in order to unlock the next "tiers" of skills. (Said meter isn't entirely useless; each point you put into it gives you a substantial increase to your base stats.) Then at level 8, you unlock another specialism and can start pumping skill points into that as well, allowing you to effectively mix and match skills from two entirely different classes to create your own custom build.

And these classes aren't your usual warrior-thief-mage trinity, either — they're all interesting, and all present interesting combinations when combined together. All together, there is a caster type that specialises in cold and electricity; another caster that specialises in fire and earth; a close-range physical attacking type person; a highly defensive physical attacker (who can apparently do some tremendous things with shields later in the game); a tree-hugging hippy that can summon wolves, heal things and infect enemies with plague; a hunter type that is good with bows and spears; and a backstabby thiefy rogue type deal that is good at inflicting pain but not so good at taking it.

The great thing about this system is that you can make a variety of different character types — all together, there are 36 different combinations, each of which has its own unique name. You can combine the Defense and Warfare masteries to create Conqueror, for example, which is a tank that also hits incredibly hard. Or you could combine the Earth and Nature masteries to create Summoner, a character that is able to summon a variety of different minions to do their bidding, including an earth golem, some wolves and a nymph, and be able to sit back, pelt the enemies from a distance and heal their minions as needed.

The combat itself is fundamentally satisfying. Humanoid enemies are thrown around with satisfying ragdoll animation; birds explode in a shower of feathers; skeletons shatter into pieces. The variety of skills mean that there are a lot of different ways you can protect yourself or go on the offensive, too, and so far I haven't felt like there's a "bad" combination; with two different masteries, you can either cover the weaknesses of the first with the second, or enhance the first's strong points with the second.

Then, of course, there's just something wonderfully enjoyable about hacking and slashing through recognisable creatures from mythology. The game appears to act as pretty much an Ancient Greece's Greatest Hits, promising confrontations with Medusa, the Hydra and numerous others over the course of the adventure — and I believe you also take a trip to ancient Egypt and China later, too, which opens up possibilities for all manner of interesting confrontations.

I hadn't expected to like the game quite as much as I did when I booted it up for the first time. But, well, the 5 hours of playtime Steam has already recorded for me — I bought it earlier this evening — probably speaks for itself.

2417: The Steam Shmup Sale

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There's a sale running on Steam right now, centred around shoot 'em ups in the classic mould. You can see the full list here, but here are a few selections that I can personally recommend:

ESCHATOS

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The follow-up to Judgement Silversword (which is also worth a go, and available in a bundle with ESCHATOS) is a Raiden-style shoot 'em up (i.e. non-bullet hell) that unfolds over the course of several stages, taking you from an Earth-like planet, into space and finally into the bowels of an alien world. It's a spectacular, thrilling journey, presented in uncomplicated but nonetheless impressive 3D polygonal visuals but playing from a top-down perspective.

ESCHATOS has a couple of ways to play depending on how complex you like your shmups. For my money, the simpler mode is actually a more enjoyable way to play — this doesn't involve any powering up of your weapons and simply requires that you defeat complete waves of enemies without missing any to build up your score multiplier. The higher the difficulty you play on, the higher the multiplier can go (and the faster it rises), so for the highest scores you need to take on the toughest challenges the game offers.

ESCHATOS has a fantastic soundtrack, fluid graphics with some wonderful setpieces, and gameplay to die for. If you're a shmup fan, this should without question be a part of your collection.

Deathsmiles

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Regarded as one of Cave's more accessible bullet-hell shooters, Deathsmiles is a horizontally scrolling affair for one or two players where you take on the role of one (or two) of several different goth loli chicks, each of whom handle slightly differently. You can shoot in both directions using either a rapid-fire shot, a charged beam or a lock-on laser, and advanced players will need to learn which attack should be used for which enemy, since the scores and collectible items they yield vary according to how they were dispatched. If you're a shmup beginner, mind, you can ignore this aspect of the game completely and just try to get through the game, because that's challenging enough in itself.

Deathsmiles has a gorgeous Gothic rock soundtrack a la Castlevania, some varied levels and some brilliant boss fights, culminating in a battle against the spectacularly named "Tyrannosatan" accompanied by Bach's famous Toccata and Fugue. There's a lot of hidden depth to the scoring system once you get your head around the bullet patterns, and variable difficulty settings that you can change on the fly between levels help give it some longevity. It's one of Cave's finest games, and well worth a look.

Savant Ascent

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Based around the music of electronica artist Savant, Savant Ascent casts you in the role of a masked alchemist who has to make his way up a tower to defeat the weird… thing that has manifested at the top. It's a twin-stick shooter with a twist — in each of the game's battlefields, the character can only stand in preset places, with pushing directions on the stick moving him from one to the other either by rolling or jumping between them.

The "Story" mode in the game lasts about five minutes and is easily beaten, but the meat of the game comes in the modes that unlock afterwards. Time Attack throws you into a horde of enemies and challenges you to 1) survive and 2) complete the game as quickly as possible. Endless, meanwhile, simply tasks you with surviving for as long as possible.

Longevity in the game comes through score attack and collectible CDs of Savant tracks, each of which unlocks a new gameplay element. What initially appears to be a very simple twin-stick shooter gradually unlocks new depths as you collect more of the CDs and progress further. It's a beautifully presented game, too, with lovely graphics and a thumping soundtrack courtesy of Savant, obviously.

Horizon Shift

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An interesting twist on the genre, Horizon Shift is presented in a minimalist Geometry Wars fashion, with simple controls and visuals, a thumping soundtrack and immensely challenging gameplay.

Your job in Horizon Shift is to protect your "horizon", a line dividing the screen into two halves. Your ship can face either up or down, and you can use this ability to dodge bullets, since only bullets on the same side as your ship can destroy you. Your ship can also jump and double-jump, providing another means for avoiding projectiles on the occasions when the "horizon" disappears and requires you to face in one direction only.

Enemies in Horizon Shift are a combination of kamikaze types that destroy part of your horizon when they hit it — meaning you'll have to jump the gaps or die — and enemies that spew bullets at you. Blasting any type of enemy builds up a chain bonus, and unleashing a smart bomb (which must also be charged by killing enemies) allows you to "bank" this chain bonus; conversely, dying loses the chain bonus altogether.

Horizon Shift has a cool aesthetic, with simplistic visuals in the foreground and a busy but low-brightness backgrounds that evolves as you play through the game. Particularly cool (and cheesy) is the giant laughing "skull" face that dominates the background any time you're fighting a boss.

Shmups Skill Test

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Blend WarioWare with a shoot 'em up and you have Shmups Skill Test, a short, quick-fire game that challenges you to complete several minigames in succession, then humiliates you about your lack of skill afterwards.

Minigames vary from the delightfully named "TANK TANK TANK TANK TANK" — in which there are lots of tanks to shoot — to one where you have to precisely shoot timebombs off the side of a rocket without blowing the rocket up, and all of them are very challenging indeed, with the possible exception of the one where you have to shoot tin cans (in space) into a giant waste-paper basket (in space) to "save the earth".

After you're finished, you're given a breakdown of your skills, a comparison to the online average rating and your "gamer age" is calculated a la Brain Age on the Nintendo DS — the lower the better.

This game is hard, but it has a lot of staying power thanks to a variety of minigames, online leaderboards and support for up to four-player competitive play. Plus, as its name suggests, it's actually good training for the various skills modern shmups demand of you.

2413: Dropping in on Vana'Diel

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The first MMO I really got into was Final Fantasy XI. This was after a few previous aborted attempts including EverQuest and Ultima Online (over dial-up — not recommended, particularly EverQuest, which crashed every time I zoned) as well as slightly lesser-known titles like Dark Age of Camelot.

I never stuck with the earlier games because they never quite resonated with me for one reason or another — perhaps it was their clunky interfaces or their painfully slow progression. All I know is that Final Fantasy XI, despite also having a clunky interface and painfully slow progression, managed to capture my attention for a decent period of time before I finally moved on to something else — Final Fantasy X-2, as I recall — and never went back.

Just recently, some Final Fantasy XIV friends and I have been getting nostalgic for XI, so I thought I'd go check it out, given that it's been a number of years and several expansion packs since I last tried it. And while the game is still recognisable as what it once was — a steadfastly traditional MMO more in the EverQuest mould than the now more fashionable WoW mould — it's been considerably streamlined to make the experience much more friendly to new players and solo players. On top of that, players now have a hefty amount of options to choose from when they log in and want to decide what to do next. This is not something Final Fantasy XI was ever lacking in, but the additions and refinements that have been added to the formula over the years benefit both new players and grizzled veterans.

Take the Fields of Valour and Records of Eminence systems, for example.

The former sees you examining "field manuals" in each zone and taking on a training regime of your choice. Completing said regime rewards you with experience, gil and a currency called tabs that can be traded in for various benefits ranging from teleporting back to your home city — a godsend if you've been grinding several zones away, since fast travel isn't anywhere near as accessible as it is in XIV — to having temporary buffs cast on yourself.

The latter, meanwhile, is accessed through your Quests menu and allows you to assign yourself up to 30 objectives at a time from an extremely comprehensive list of possible challenges that range from "defeat 100 enemies" to "deal 100,000 points of damage in total" via "loot 10 wind crystals from enemies". Most of these objectives are repeatable, and all reward you with experience points upon completion.

Just the addition of these two systems, which support the existing style of play FFXI veterans will be used to, makes levelling a considerably less painful, time-consuming process. What once took weeks of grinding can now be done in a few hours — to put it in context, I played for about 2 or 3 hours earlier and made it to level 16. First time I played this took me several weeks to achieve; in several months of play I never got any further than level 30.

It's a bit of an adjustment to go back to XI after the tightly structured gameplay of XIV. XI, by contrast, is much more freeform; there is a main storyline to follow, but it's of considerable benefit to players to go out and level up a bit first before even thinking about tackling these missions. The story can even be ignored completely if you'd rather just go out hacking and slashing monsters, unlike in XIV, where it was an integral part of overall progression by gradually unlocking game features and challenges as you went through.

One of the best additions to XI in recent years is the Trust system, which allows you to recruit "alter-ego" versions of various NPCs from around the game world after meeting the requirements to unlock them. Once unlocked, these "alter-egos" can be summoned at any time in the field for you to party up with, effectively allowing you the ability to take on considerably stronger monsters than you would otherwise be able to tackle solo, and all but eliminating the need for standing in Valkurm Dunes for hours at a time shouting "RDM LFG" in the hope that someone would pick you up to go and kill lots of crabs with.

One might say that the Trust system takes away from one of the key defining aspects of FFXI as a massively multiplayer online game, but in practice it's simply more convenient for many players. You still have the option to party up with other people, of course — and chances are they'll play their roles much better than the relatively limited AI of the Trust companions — but for those who prefer to play solo, Trust NPCs can form a formidable party with you once you've unlocked a few of them.

The other interesting contrast between FFXI and FFXIV is how it handles combat. XI's combat is relatively simple in the early levels, relying mostly on your auto-attack and occasional use of Weaponskills when your TP bar hits 1000 or greater. XIV, meanwhile, is much more active, demanding that you both dodge enemy attacks with telegraphed areas of effect and keep performing your class's combo or rotations as efficiently as possible, preferably without stopping. Both are considerably slower paced than true real-time combat, striking a good balance between a turn-based feel and actually allowing the player to feel like they are in full control of their character, but XI is even slower than XIV, providing you with plenty of time to pick abilities in advance from its traditional FF-style menu system rather than XIV's hotbars.

I've enjoyed returning to Vana'Diel so far; the experience contrasts well enough from XIV that the two games can sit quite comfortably beside one another in a gamer's collection, and the state they're both in in 2016 means that you can sit down for either a long or a short session with either and feel like you've achieved something.

Mostly I'm wanting to play through Final Fantasy XI to see its main story content, which is supposed to be good, but the sheer amount of stuff to do in the game — it's got over ten years on A Realm Reborn, after all — is more than likely to prove a bit distracting!

2412: Looking Back on Three Years, Off and (Mostly) On, in Eorzea

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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.

2410: Sounds of Vana'Diel

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Talking to some of my Final Fantasy XIV friends today, I realised quite what an impact XIV's predecessor Final Fantasy XI had on me, even though I never really got that far with it in the long term.

As with many other things throughout my life, the thing that has stayed with me for the longest ever since I played it for the first time is the music. (Incidentally, the music is, more than anything, the reason why I find I can't stay away from Final Fantasy XIV for long, even when, as I did recently, I think I'm "over it".)

Final Fantasy XI's music is not as well known as many of the other soundtracks in the series, primarily because XI itself is not as well known as the other Final Fantasy games that have been released over the years. It's not as technically accomplished as XIV's diverse soundtrack, and it's not the work of series veteran Nobuo Uematsu (who hasn't been quite as involved with the series in more recent years) but it is nonetheless made up of a selection of rather lovely pieces of music.

Here are a few that make me feel suitably nostalgic every time I hear them.

This music, simply called Ronfaure after the area in which it plays, is one of my favourite pieces from Final Fantasy XIV, because it pretty much sums up the overall atmosphere of the game: vaguely melancholic and rather traditional.

Final Fantasy XI is — at least, from what I remember — one of the more traditionally-set Final Fantasy games, with an emphasis on good old swords, shields, magic, orcs and goblins. Its soundtrack reflects this, and is a contrast to XIV's diverse track listing, which reflects the diversity of XIV's world itself.

The first character I played in Final Fantasy XI — and the only one that ever got anywhere to date — hailed from the Federation of Windurst, and thus his starting area was Sarutabaruta, which featured this wonderfully calming piece of music to accompany your exploration.

Sarutabaruta was a land of grassy meadows and sunshine; a thoroughly pleasant place to have a stroll, were it not for the monsters wandering here and there, of course.

One of the things I liked most about Final Fantasy XI, even after I played World of Warcraft for the first time, was the fact that it had a battle theme. Well, actually it had several according to your progress and whether or not you were in a party, but this one was likely to be the first one you heard as you stepped out of the gates of your starting city for the first time and prepared to have the shit kicked out of you by a small bumblebee. (FFXI was an MMO designed in the EverQuest mould, in comparison to FFXIV's rough adherence to the World of Warcraft formula, and consequently was brutally difficult, particularly at low levels.)

I always particularly liked that the battle theme for FFXI actually sounded like a Final Fantasy battle theme.

Final Fantasy XI's character creator was simple compared to those that came in later years, but one of the things I always liked about it was that each of the several races you could play as in the game had their own "theme tune" and even had their own signature animations to show you what they were all about while you were deciding. The Mithra, FFXI's take on the catgirl, were exactly how you would expect them to be from a game designed by Japanese people, and their music reflected that nicely.

Final Fantasy XI's group content was structured rather differently to XIV. It wouldn't be until about level 25 or so that you'd encounter your first real "boss", marked by a "Burning Circle" that you had to enter with a party of companions you'd previously gathered — no Duty Finder for you here.

Confronting said boss was A Big Deal, in other words, which is why I can remember it vividly: battling a dragon and his Ahriman companion, accompanied by this stirring soundtrack.

I never got far enough into the story to get properly into the expansion packs for FFXI, but I did visit some of the areas, because they were good for level-grinding.

I think, for once, YouTube comments sum up what I feel on hearing this piece of music better than anything I could say here:

"And here I am, 8 or 9 years later laying in bed listening to this music, wondering what ever happened to the people I considered my closest friends. Time is cruel, and one by one we each took a break from the game and never returned. If youre in a guild/ls/free company now, these will be the days that you someday look back on 😀 Dont let your friendships disappear, get on Facebook/Discord/Guildwork and keep in touch with them."

"Makes me tear up… I miss my old ls. r.i.p. Saints"

"comments like these make me wanna cry ;-; chemistry like this is so hard to find now. social life is so fast now"

Quite. For all their faults, for all the assholes who play them and all the whining that inevitably goes on around them, MMOs are, at heart, about people finding and connecting with one another, then sharing unforgettable experiences together.