2312: After 1.5 Games, I Already Like Ys More Than Any Zelda I've Played

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

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

Let me try to explain what I mean.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2311: I Finished My First Ys

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It's something of a novelty these games to start and beat a game over the course of a couple of days — particularly an RPG — but with Dungeon Travelers 2 being considerable in both length and difficulty, I felt that a palate cleanser of some sort was in order before I tackled the remaining 15+ floors of that game's final dungeon. I considered picking up the new Doom, but I couldn't quite bring myself to spend that much on it, so instead, as I noted yesterday, I turned to the Ys series.

This evening, I beat Ys I. Here are some things I thought about it.

Things I liked

That music! The PC version I was playing has three mixes of the soundtrack available: the original FM version, a remastered MIDI version from a later incarnation and a full-on rock the fuck out version from Falcom's in-house band. I must confess I didn't try the two earlier versions, as Falcom's band is pretty damn amazing. Wailing guitars and pounding drumbeats complemented the action perfectly, and brought a pleasantly nostalgic feeling over me, making me think of both Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (which had plenty of widdly-diddly guitars) and my brother (who was always very good at widdly-diddly guitars when I was growing up).
Levelling up is meaningful. There are ten experience levels in Ys I. Each one is a significant jump in power. From level 1 to level 2 is the difference between taking 4 or 5 hits to kill an enemy and being able to splatter it in a single hit. Your power continues to increase hugely as the game progresses.
You have an HP bar that gets bigger. I don't know why I like this, I just do. I liked it in Metal Gear Solid, I liked it in Kingdom Hearts and I like it here. It's a satisfying visual representation of your growth in power.
Your HP bar shows how much damage the last hit you took chipped off. This is really nice. Similar to how fighting game health gauges work, your HP bar in Ys highlights the amount of damage the last hit gave you in a brighter shade of red so you can estimate roughly how many more individual hits you can take before needing to worry about healing.
Tactical health regeneration. Healing items are few and far between in Ys I, so it's fortunate that you regenerate health by standing still… though only when you're in a place where you can see the sky. Later in the game, you acquire a healing ring that allows you to regenerate in dungeons, too, but for the majority of the time, finding an open-air "clearing" in a dungeon makes a nice checkpoint.
Cute girls. My goodness. I want to cuddle Feena forever.
The sense of place and character. I mentioned this yesterday, but Ys I's world feels remarkably coherent, even with its relatively tiny size compared to some other RPGs. By the end of the game, you recognise every character, and the character notebook feature in the game suggests that the writers thought long and hard about each and every NPC in the game, regardless of their importance (or lack thereof) to the plot.
The interesting structure. Ys I is broadly split into two parts: the first half sees you charging around the overworld completing various quests, and this will probably bring you up to the level cap of 10. Once you've done everything out in the world, you then enter the 25-floor final dungeon Darm Tower, where you'll need to use everything you've learned (and a few other things besides) to make it to the top and kick the last boss' face in.
The last boss is the hardest thing in the game. I've lost count of the number of RPGs I've played where the final boss is an underwhelming battle thanks to the ability to overlevel yourself for it by doing all manner of side activities beforehand. In narrative terms, the final boss should really be your most significant challenge, so it's always a little disappointing when you can mash it in a couple of turns. Not so in Ys I; this asshole puts up a fight.

Things I liked a little less

The bosses are a bit primitive. This is perhaps understandable, given the game's heritage — despite this being a modern remake, the original Ys I came out in 1987 and the bosses in particular make this abundantly clear, with very simple attack patterns that have no "intelligence" whatsoever — simply either randomised or predictable path-based movement.
The last boss is the hardest thing in the game… but for all the wrong reasons. The final boss is all kinds of bullshit. He bounces around the screen, frequently going out of reach. When you hit him, the floor falls away underneath where he was, and this can either kill you instantly or trap you in a corner if you're not careful. He shoots fireballs that split into so many bullets it's literally impossible to dodge them all. Fighting him is more a matter of being able to inflict enough damage on him before he kills you than any real skill at recognising and dealing with his patterns.
Inconsistent item behaviour is a little unfair. You can't use items or change your equipment in boss battles. This means you can't use that healing potion you've been saving, or the magic mirror to freeze your opponent in place. Worse, the various rings you acquire throughout the game — which vary in effect from doubling your damage dealt to halving your damage taken via allowing you to slowly regenerate when standing still — have no effect whatsoever in boss battles, either.
There are a number of instances where the game kind of forgets to tell you what to do next. This happens for the first time right at the very beginning of the game, where no-one tells you that in order to trigger an important event you first have to speak to each and every NPC in the starting town. There are a number of other such incidents later in the game, too, but again, this is perhaps a remnant of the game's 1987 heritage, when games were a lot less hand-holdy.

Ultimately, none of the things I liked a bit less about Ys I distracted me from playing it through from start to finish and really enjoying the experience. I'm not sure whether I'll go back and play it on the notorious Nightmare difficulty — I'm not sure I can face some of those bosses again! — but it's a definite possibility. For the immediate "now", though, I think I'm going to move straight on to Ys II to see how Adol's adventure continues.

Yep. I'm 100% on board with this series, and I look forward to exploring the rest of it.

2310: My First Ys

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2304: Blizzard's New Phenomenon

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I know I wrote about Overwatch the other day, but having been, well, present on the Internet for the past few days I think it's fairly safe to declare that Blizzard has an honest-to-goodness phenomenon on its hands.

Overwatch's open beta (read: free demo — the best marketing tool they could have possibly used) ended at the start of this week, but people haven't stopped talking about it since. They also haven't stopped producing fan art, incorporating Overwatch characters into memes and cartoon strips, discussing strategies, taking the piss out of people who play nothing but Bastion and admiring Tracer's admittedly fine posterior.

It's kind of remarkable, really, because it seems to have come out of nowhere and evolved organically without a trace of interference from the marketing or PR machines. A few weeks ago, I knew very little about Overwatch and had little interest in it; after a couple of days with the beta on both PS4 and PC, I'm well and truly sold and am happily enjoying the wealth of fan-made content that's been produced seemingly in just the last few days.

Blizzard has always been a somewhat unconventional developer-publisher, producing wildly popular games that eschew popular conventions — mechanically, aesthetically and even functionally. Their insistence on using their own proprietary client Battle.Net to distribute, update and even sell their latest games initially drew criticism — particularly in the case of Diablo III — but as the world has become more and more comfortable with the idea of being always online and multiplayer-centric titles, these complaints have started to fade into the background until now, Blizzard's ecosystem allows it to have extremely successful titles without having to rely on the more established distribution channels such as Steam.

Overwatch's stealth marketing is another example of this. While there have been TV spots, video ads and site takeovers for the game, it has never felt like an aggressive marketing push in the same way that a Call of Duty or a Battlefield sees. Instead, Blizzard chose to rely on the most powerful marketing tool in the world these days: word of mouth. Putting their absolute confidence in their game and releasing it to the public for free for a few days achieved more than any multi-million dollar marketing campaign ever would; it allowed people to try the game for themselves and either confirm that yes, they did want to play it, or, in many cases, sate their curiosity as to what it was all about. In more than one case, the satiation of that curiosity has led to additional sales.

So why is Overwatch such a phenomenon? Well, a lot of it has to do with its striking visual design — it's immediately recognisable — but I think the biggest contributing factor is its wildly varied selection of playable characters. There's something for everyone in Overwatch's cast, whether you're into moody, dark types; big, stompy robots; hot girls; cute girls; frightening muscle-bound girls who probably have a Tumblr page; Westerns; sci-fi… there's a bit of everything. And somehow despite this massive variety in its cast, Overwatch feels coherent and none of its characters feel like token inclusions.

This, naturally, leads to people picking favourites — never underestimate the power of the waifus! — which, in turn, leads to people producing fan-created content based on their favourite characters. And, from there, other fans can enjoy this content and express how much they like their favourite character through sharing these fan-made productions or engaging with the artists. Over time, a whole meta-community outside of the game builds up, even bringing in people who don't actually play the game but just like watching it, or appreciate the art direction, or like the look of the characters.

In short, Blizzard would have to do something absolutely spectacular right now to fuck up Overwatch. I'm really looking forward to giving the full version a go at the end of the month, and if you're up for a multiplayer rumble in its wonderfully colourful world, be sure to hit me up.

2301: Overwatch

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I decided to give the game everyone seems to be talking about — Blizzard's new first-person shooter Overwatch — a bit of a go this weekend. They were running an open beta, after all, so there was no risk whatsoever involved in downloading it and giving it a shot.

And what do you know — it's actually pretty good. I'm not sure if I'm sold enough on it to want to pick up a copy when it comes out later in the month, but I certainly enjoyed the time I spent with it over the last couple of days.

For those who have perhaps heard of Overwatch but not found out any more information about it, it is, in many ways, similar to Valve's classic Team Fortress 2 in that two teams made up of various different characters with different capabilities face off against one another in order to complete an objective of some description. In the game as it stands at the moment, the objectives on offer include a "king of the hill" type affair, where over the best of three rounds, each team has to control a particular area on the map for a certain amount of time; an "attack and defend" situation, where one team has to defend a point against assault from the other team; an "assault" variant, where the attacking team has to escort a slow-moving "payload" vehicle from one end of the map to the other while the other team stops them; and a mode that mixes the "attack and defend" and "assault" objectives together.

Like Team Fortress 2, the different characters have different roles on the team. Offensive characters are nimble but fragile, with their weapons and abilities concentrating on inflicting damage efficiently. Defensive characters have the ability to do things like lay down turrets or, in the case of one particular character, turn themselves into a turret. Tank characters have a huge pool of health points so are designed to act as a distraction for the other team. And support characters generally have some sort of useful ability to help the team out — usually some form of healing, buffing or both.

Where Team Fortress 2 only had one character of each archetype, though, Overwatch has several, each of whom has a unique weapon and loadout of special abilities. Weapons have clips of ammo and have to be reloaded when empty, but you have infinite clips, so there's no hunting around for ammo or any punishment for spray-and-pray gunplay. You can restore your health by returning to your home base, similar to how Blizzard's MOBA Heroes of the Storm works. And if you find a hero isn't working out for you, you can switch either when you die or when you're in your base.

Overwatch strikes an excellent balance between simplicity and tactical depth. The characters are all easy to learn in terms of mechanics, but applying their weapons and skills to situations throughout a match is the real challenge. That and not blowing yourself up in some instances; my favourite character so far, D.Va, has the ability to self-destruct her mech suit, killing anyone nearby, which is an absolutely devastating skill, but also very likely to take you with it if you don't immediately run away.

There's also a fun metagame that doesn't fall into the Call of Duty trap of excessive challenges and skill levels: you simply have an experience level, which gives you a "loot box" every time you level up, and the items in the loot box are randomly selected skins, animations, spray paint logos and voice clips for the various characters in the game. None of these have any effect on the characters' abilities — they're just there as cool collectibles as an incentive for players to keep playing. The choice to make Overwatch a full-price game rather than a free-to-play affair also seems quite sensible, too; while some may balk at paying full whack for a multiplayer-only game, there's a substantial amount of content in here, both heroes and maps, and Blizzard claim that they're going to support the game post-launch with new, free add-on content rather than paid DLC. A round of applause for them, then; doubly so since their parent company is Activision, who loves milking the annual Call of Duty installments dry.

The other nice side-effect of it being a full-price game is that everyone has access to everything from day one. Everyone can pick a favourite character and get to grips with them without having to wait for them to come around in a free-to-play rotation; everyone is, in other words, on a level playing field to begin with, with no advantage given to someone who has paid up for characters, boosters or whatever.

As I say, I'm not yet sure if I'm convinced enough by the beta to hand over 50 quid for the full game when it releases later in the month, but I will say it's the most fun I've had in a first-person shooter for a very long time indeed, and I generally don't go in for competitive first-person shooters. The beta seems to have had some positive attention, too, so hopefully it will enjoy a solid community for some time — long enough for it to be worthwhile for Blizzard to keep adding new content.

If you want to give it a go for yourself, I believe you have until Monday morning to try it out. Better hurry!

2296: Games Called "Simulator" That Aren't Simulators: A Joke That's Run its Course

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Back in the Good Old Days, my Dad played a whole lot of Flight Simulator, both in its SubLOGIC days and subsequently when it became a Microsoft product. (He still does, though perhaps not quite as much as he used to.)

One recurring joke we had in our family was taunting my Dad by saying that Flight Simulator was a game (which it is), which he would inevitably respond to by vociferously declaring that "it is not a game", because he didn't play games. (He has relaxed this policy in recent years, largely due to the advent of iOS.)

While I didn't agree with his assessment of what a game was, I did, however, understand where his argument came from. Proper noun Flight Simulator was a cut above even other lower-case flight simulators in terms of realism and depth, and noteworthy at the time for being one of the only civil aviation flight sims. It was also noteworthy for being one of the first ever open-world sandbox games, in that there were no goals whatsoever besides those that you set for yourself; there wasn't even really a "fail" state, since if you crashed, you could just respawn and start again.

By far the most noteworthy thing about Flight Simulator was the fact that it did exactly what its title suggested: it provided an accurate simulation of what it was actually like to fly a plane. That means no simplified controls; that means no throwing your plane around the sky; that means the need for at least a basic understanding of physics (including lift, thrust and drag) in order to even get off the ground. And even outside of the more obvious realism aspects such as the flight model, even navigation was simulated accurately; you had to tune navigation radios, follow the needle and so forth. Many real-life honest-to-goodness pilots actually trained to fly on instruments using Flight Simulator, such was its level of realism and detail when it came to this side of things, even if the graphics weren't particularly impressive in the early days.

As a result of all this, I came to associate the word "simulator" with… well, simulations. Virtual depictions of something real — and a depiction that errs more on the side of realism than providing a thrilling gaming experience.

This morning I received an unsolicited Steam invite to a group promoting an upcoming game called Pregnancy with Your Mom Simulator 2016. This is what Pregnancy with Your Mom Simulator 2016 looks like.

If you have never encountered the modern use of the word "simulator", Pregnancy with Your Mom Simulator 2016 pretty much sums it up. These days, although Flight Simulator still exists, the word "simulator" is much more frequently used in a "hilariously" ironic manner to describe something ridiculous, obviously unrealistic and filled with puerile humour.

I generally have nothing against puerile humour for the most part, but the use of the word "simulator" for this kind of thing is just getting a bit beyond a joke now. In just the last few years we've had Surgeon Simulator, Goat Simulator, Shower with Your Dad Simulator, Zombie Training Simulator, Corporate Lifestyle Simulator, Domestic Dog Simulator… and, well, literally hundreds of others. While there are a few genuine simulators in among the dross — the most noteworthy being titles like Euro Truck Simulator and its ilk, which follow the Flight Simulator mould of actually providing a realistic simulation of a real-life activity — the vast majority of these games are designed to be stupid visual jokes for YouTubers and streamers to whoop and holler over on videos with headlines like "CRAZY game from HELL?! SHOWER with YOUR MOM!!"

More than anything, I find it a bit frustrating to see the word "simulator" thrown around so casually these days because sometimes you just want to actually indulge in a genuine simulation of something — you want to see what it's like to drive a truck, use heavy construction machinery, fly a plane, launch a rocket, whatever — and this nonsense's use of the word completely devalues the word "simulator" to such a degree that it's now meaningless. Moreover, it's actively difficult to find real simulators — which, in the past, have had pretty functional, self-explanatory titles, such as Flight Simulator — among all this shit.

Ultimately this sort of thing is just another side-effect of the attention deficit disorder that the Internet seems to collectively suffer from. The population of the Internet staggers drunkenly from meme to meme, desperately searching for the next joke they can milk until it becomes the opposite of funny, then all the people who only use Facebook can start posting about it and it officially becomes dead, at which point a new meme shall rise and everyone shall become sick of it once more.

Perhaps I'm just old and cynical. Or perhaps I'm just tired of Steam and the mobile app stores getting flooded with "joke" games like Pregnancy with Your Mom Simulator 2016. People complained about the Wii being laden with shovelware, but that was nothing compared to the shit we see on Steam and mobile in 2016 — shit that distracts attention away from stuff that is actually noteworthy and interesting.

2295: You Should Play Aselia the Eternal

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JAST USA recently released Aselia the Eternal on Steam. The game's been around for a good few years now — its original Japanese version for even longer — but its release on Steam will doubtless allow a whole new audience to (hopefully) enjoy it. I will now attempt to explain why it is worth giving it a go.

Aselia the Eternal is a combination of a visual novel and a strategy game. The overall balance is very much in favour of the story side of things — it's a good six hours of reading before you get to the game's first strategy battle sequence — but when you do get to the strategic aspect, it's a game that puts up a good fight.

The narrative concerns the player-protagonist Yuuto, who finds himself drawn into another world populated by people who speak a completely different language to him. Unable to find his way home, he gradually learns to communicate with these people — the ones with whom he's staying known as "Spirits" — and finds himself recruited into the army as an "Etranger", a wielder of a powerful, sentient sword that regularly threatens to eat his soul.

Gradually, as Yuuto becomes more and more involved in the lives of the Spirits, he starts to worry less and less about trying to find his way back home and more about helping to resolve the conflict that threatens to tear this fantasy world apart. As such, the narrative becomes very much a high fantasy sort of affair — war on a grand scale, magic and mayhem around every corner, transcendence of humanity not at all out of the question — and builds to a thoroughly exciting conclusion that I won't spoil here.

The story is compelling, interesting, well-written and well-translated, but it's the gameplay part that is perhaps the most interesting thing about it, since it's one of the most original takes on strategic RPG-style combat I've seen. Virtually eliminating all luck from the equation, combat in Aselia the Eternal is actually about putting units together in small squads to perform most effectively according to what type of unit they are — and by doing this correctly you can effectively guarantee that you'll win a conflict before you reach it. The tricky part is in finding those suitable combinations in the first place.

The basic rules of engagement have each of your squads made up of three ranks — a frontline fighter, a mid-range tank and a support fighter bringing up the rear. Each of the different types of Spirits perform best in a particular slot: Blue Spirits (such as the eponymous heroine) do their best work as speedy damage dealers in the front row; Green Spirits tend to have the highest defense and HP, so sit in the middle; Red Spirits often have support abilities that can damage an entire enemy squad or provide suitable benefits to your own, so sit at the back. You're not limited to this arrangement — and indeed, with Yuuto in the mix, who is none of those things, you'll have at least one squad with an unconventional lineup — but there are clearly optimal ways to do things, making each of the battles in the game as much of a puzzle as a strategic RPG experience.

Aselia the Eternal comes together so nicely because everything it does is in service to its narrative and worldbuilding. Despite not having an open world you can freely explore, its excellent storytelling and descriptive narration builds a wonderfully convincing setting that gives the strategic sequences genuine meaning and drama. And, as a result of that worldbuilding, your units in the strategic sequences become more than just sets of stats and abilities; they become people. People who you don't want to see die, because yes, this game has permadeath.

The question of being "more than just a soldier" is one of the main narrative themes explored in the game, and it's a rather wonderful moment when you realise that you, the player, are having the same epiphany that the characters in the game are. There are some wonderfully touching sequences with Yuuto and the Spirits as they get to know one another, and you're right there with them. And, as the narrative ramps up and you bring more and more allies with you, the tension becomes palpable as you take them into battles that you really don't want to see them lose.

I don't want to say too much more because part of the wonder of Aselia the Eternal is exploring the experience for yourself and discovering everything this remarkable work has to offer. Suffice to say if you enjoy in-depth storytelling — and lots of if — and aren't averse to a bit of red-hot strategy action, you should most certainly check it out. And then strongly consider supporting JAST's recent release of the sequel Seinarukana, which I'll be investigating for myself in the near future!

2287: Deep Dungeon is Exactly What FFXIV Needs

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I got burnt out on Final Fantasy XIV a little while back and haven't felt particularly tempted to go back since — especially since my Free Company had been less than conversational for the last few months, making even the social aspect of the game less worth logging in for than it had been.

At PAX East this week, Square Enix announced an exciting new plan for some future content that has me clamouring to get back to the game once it releases: a new type of activity called Deep Dungeon, which will be familiar to fans of both Final Fantasy Tactics' Midlight's Deep optional dungeon and Final Fantasy XI's Nyzul Isle.

It sounds as if Deep Dungeon is going to be a discrete type of activity for players to participate in, with the eventual plan presumably being to have a number of different dungeons for players to challenge. Initially, there will be just one, called Palace of the Dead.

The reason this excites me so much is because it shakes up the established formula of Final Fantasy XIV — which, don't get me wrong, I like very much, but just needed a break from, thanks to the necessity of grinding the same content week after week in order to obtain the next incremental upgrade. Unlike the current substantial array of static content available in the game, Deep Dungeon has a strong random element, plus a great deal more flexibility than the rest of the game's reliance on the MMO "Holy Trinity" of tank, healer and DPS.

Deep Dungeon sees you and up to three friends tackling a randomly generated dungeon. It also has its own progression system separate from the main game's experience and item levels, mitigating the issue the game currently has of a significant proportion of players outgearing the majority of the current content. The in-game reasons for this are that the dungeon saps your character's strength, and in order to power back up again you'll have to make use of items you find within the dungeon itself, progressing and regaining your strength as you proceed.

If it's anything like Final Fantasy XI's Nyzul Isle — which FFXI veterans inform me, it sounds very much like — then each floor of the dungeon will not only be randomly generated, but it will also have various objectives to complete, as well as challenging boss fights every so often. It sounds like a lot of fun — and I really like the fact that it's seemingly flexible enough to cater to any party makeup from 1-4 players, hopefully leading to some interesting combinations of classes exploring the depths. All-tank runs? Bring it on!

I have questions that will hopefully be answered in the coming months: firstly, what will the point of Deep Dungeon be? Will it be another means of acquiring progression currency, or will it be a completely separate activity? My main concern with it is that it ends up being a Diadem, which sounded awesome in concept but turned out to be a bit toss when it was actually released. Part of this was down to player attitudes, admittedly, rather than any real fault with the content itself, but hopefully the smaller scale of Deep Dungeon will mitigate this risk somewhat.

To be honest, if Deep Dungeon proves to be a significant enough challenge with enough variation on each run, I can see it becoming one of my main activities in Final Fantasy XIV, particularly if I have the option of running it either solo or with friends. And with the promise of score rankings coming in a future update, there's the distinct possibility of some friendly competition, too.

The first Deep Dungeon, Palace of the Dead, is due to arrive in the game as part of Patch 3.35. I'm planning on jumping back into the game around Patch 3.3 to find out what happens next in the main scenario quest — the story is getting very interesting — but if Deep Dungeon lives up to its potential, 3.35 will see me getting back into things in a big way.

Please don't mess it up, Yoshi-P and co. I have faith in you!

2279: Matchmaking: A Great Way to Waste Time

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I downloaded the Doom beta on PS4 earlier out of curiosity. I hadn't heard particularly positive things about it — though admittedly, this was mostly from disgruntled PC players who were whining about the lack of mod support and how it was "obviously built for consoles" — but as someone who actually used to really like Doom, I was interested to take a look.

I booted up Doom, fiddled around in the options a bit, took note of the entertaining options to weather, dirty up and scuff your armour in character customisation — not to mention painting it lurid shades of pink and purple — and then jumped into the multiplayer playlist.

Then, I waited.

And waited some more.

And then a bit more.

Well, okay, this perhaps makes it sound a bit longer than it actually was: it was probably less than five minutes in total, all told. But that was five minutes utterly wasted in which I wasn't doing anything apart from staring at the screen and perhaps rotating my character model a bit.

My mind was cast back to a comment someone I follow on Twitter made a while back, whose sentiment was along the lines of "rather than wasting your time with endless, pointless matchmaking games, throw yourself into enjoying games with stories; games with clear beginnings, middles and ends". At the time, I thought it a slightly extreme viewpoint, since I have enjoyed multiplayer matchmaking games in the past, but on reflection, he was absolutely right: for me, right now, matchmaking multiplayer games are a total waste of time and energy for what I find to be a subpar, unsatisfying experience compared to something that is either a bit more structured or something that has immediacy.

Doom isn't the only game where I've encountered the tedium of waiting for matchmaking queues. Playing a damage-dealing class on Final Fantasy XIV often leads to long queues for dungeons — although at least in that game, you can do other stuff in the open world while queueing, though there are a few limitations on your activities to prevent your queue popping and you being unavailable. Grand Theft Auto Online is particularly unpleasant to try and find a matchmaking session in, since it's riddled with people who pop into a lobby, then quit out again after five seconds if it's not already full. And I'm sure there are plenty of other examples, too.

So, I think I've had enough. I've felt a slight temptation to check out things like Doom and even the more recent Call of Duty games in the recent past, but on reflection, I feel they'll only frustrate me: time spent "waiting for players…" is time not spent enjoying a story in a single-player game, or trying to beat a high score in an arcade game, or chasing trophies in a game I've reached the post-game for.

This isn't to say I'm not going to play multiplayer at all, mind you: TrackMania Turbo has an excellent multiplayer where you can just jump in and out of player-made rooms at will, with no waiting around for there to be "enough" people to play. And I have a lot of fun playing Grand Theft Auto Online with my local friends. Those represent two different ways of having a fun online experience without getting matchmaking systems involved.

Strangers who are beyond that great wall of matchmaking, then? Fuck 'em; I've got better things to do than wait for them to show up to my party.

2276: Video Computer System

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As I wrote in a few posts recently, I've been checking out the new Atari Vault compilation on Steam. Rather than talking about a specific game today, I wanted to talk a little bit about the value of the compilation as a whole, and why I'm enjoying exploring it.

Atari Vault is a compilation of somewhere in the region of 100 Atari games from the '80s. The bulk of the compilation consists of VCS 2600 games, but there are some arcade games in there too, including the likes of Crystal Castles, Missile Command, Major Havoc and Liberator.

I've owned a number of previous similar compilations in the past, and have typically gravitated towards the arcade games, since they seem more "palatable" from a modern perspective than the extremely primitive-looking 2600 games. I recall growing up with the Atari 8-bit home computers, and in comparison to those, 2600 games looked primitive even back at that time when it was relatively current, and as such, I've always found them a little offputting. I've made a specific effort to explore them a bit more this time around, though, and I've been pleased to discover some really interesting games.

Take Haunted House, for example. This is a fairly straightforward top-down "find all the things" game with an intriguing twist: you're in the dark. With your character represented as nothing more than a pair of eyes, you navigate around by either bumping into walls or lighting matches to illuminate the area immediately around you. A single game of Haunted House requires that you find all the pieces of a… thing… an urn? And you have to do so while using as few matches as possible and losing as few lives as possible, for this being a haunted house, it has a number of unpleasant beasties lurking around just waiting to nibble on you.

Or take Save Mary, a prototype game that never saw commercial release, but which presented an interesting twist on vaguely Tetris-ish block puzzles. The eponymous Mary is trapped at the bottom of a pit which is slowly filling with water. You control a crane and have to drop blocks into the well for Mary to climb up. You need to get her high enough to be able to grab her with the crane and save her. Once you've done this, you have to do it again, only with significantly more awkward-shaped blocks. The peculiar variation on the typical block puzzle formula is the fact that Mary has a mind of her own (albeit a predictable one) and you have to be careful not to squish her with the blocks you drop as she wanders back and forth trying to get to high ground.

Or how about Atari Video Cube, a really simple but surprisingly compelling puzzle game loosely based on Rubik's Cube? Controlling a weird little man (who has a name and a backstory and everything, though I can't remember it offhand), it's your job to pick up coloured squares from each of the 3×3 faces of the cube and lay them down so that each side is a solid colour. To make this more difficult, to pick up a coloured tile, you have to swap it with the one you're holding, and to make it even more difficult, you can't walk through tiles that are the same colour as the tile you're holding, even if they're on a different face of the cube.

The 2600 back catalogue appears to be filled with these sorts of interesting little games that we'd probably find laughable if released as full-scale, full-price commercial releases today, but as part of this compilation, they provide a surprising amount of entertainment value — and, in some cases, represent types of games that are very much deserving of a modern remake.

My only issue with them from a modern viewpoint is the fact that 2600 games tend to end rather abruptly, regardless of whether you "win" or "lose", and this can sometimes make victories over a particularly difficult level feel a bit less than satisfying. Still, this was from an age where gaming was quite a social pursuit — many of the 2600 games are very much designed to be played together with a partner — and so, I feel, a key part of the fun back then must have been making your own fun with the games to a certain extent; similar to how a tabletop game doesn't automatically set off fireworks as soon as you win, neither does a 2600 game. The celebrations and victory rewards are entirely up to you; I recommend betting each other a slice of pizza or a big lump of cake on a game of Combat and see how much you like each other by the end of the evening!