#oneaday Day 526: Full Metal Schoolgirl

Full disclosure: the other day when I said I was going to play Full Metal Schoolgirl, I actually ended up playing more Tears of the Kingdom. I didn't feel bad about that, either, but it did mean I haven't been able to talk about Full Metal Schoolgirl.

Until now! Because I played it this evening.

Full Metal Schoolgirl is a roguelite action game. I know, I know, we're not exactly short of those, but this one had my attention for a few reasons. Firstly: mecha gyaru schoolgirls. Secondly, it's developed by Yuke's, who do cool stuff. Thirdly, the entire concept of the game is savagely anti-capitalist, and frankly, with the world the way it is right now, that was rather appealing.

You take control of one of two mechanised schoolgirls, each of whom have their own reasons to want revenge on the local megacorporation, which has been turning its workers into cyborgs so they can work more hours without having to take a break. The upshot of this is that they have become "The Working Dead", doomed to continue working their meaningless, joyless jobs even after death.

Enter our schoolgirls, who raid the company's 100-floor headquarters, only for the one you didnt pick to get immediately injured and, predictably, show up as a recurring boss character at various points throughout proceedings.

Your gal has a melee and a ranged weapon. Ranged weapons either have infinite ammo and an overheat gauge, or a limited clip size (and thus the need to reload) but an infinite stock of ammunition. Melee weapons, meanwhile, use up a stamina bar with each strike, and this bar is also used for dashing, dodging and blocking.

The game flows on a room-by-room basis. You're not always locked in each room and have to defeat all the enemies to proceed, but you often are, particularly when some of the game's special mechanics come into play.

Clearing a room rewards you with loot, which can be replacements for either of your weapons or shield, a battery for healing, or a mod which confers a reasonably significant passive bonus of some description, along with a small passive penalty. You also gain various materials with every kill and most bits of scenery destroyed, and there's a currency that only applies to your current run that can be used for various purposes, such as opening locked item chests that can guarantee items of a particular rarity.

Part of the game's setup is that your chosen gal is livestreaming her massacre, and as she progresses, requests will come in from the viewers. These usually take the form of clearing the room in a time limit, without healing or without depleting your stamina bar completely at any point. When one of these comes in, you can accept it, or you can accept a harder variant for a bigger reward. If you successfully complete the request, your gal earns cash donations which do carry over between runs, and these, along with the materials, are used to upgrade her Base capabilities between runs.

It's a lot of fun so far! There's some nice weight to the combat, and plenty of variety in the guns. Since the enemies are robotic, they explode and shatter into pieces dramatically when you blast or slice them, and each room is furnished entirely with physics objects, meaning you absolutely wreck the joint with each encounter.

There are a variety of different enemy types that change up with each block of levels, including some who have a "job title" and act as a miniboss. These can be staggered, which leaves them open to a "Retirement Blow", a satisfying cinematic attack that usually defeats them outright.

Thus far I've enjoyed what I played, and it kept me occupied for a good two hours solid earlier. I'm looking forward to playing it some more — it's a nice, silly, fun game, and that's exactly what you want sometimes.

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#oneaday Day 491: Some first impressions from Death end re;Quest Code Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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2405: Revisiting One Way Heroics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2196: Starward Rogue, a Game About a Severed Head in a Mech

I took a look at Arcen Games' latest today. I've followed this interesting developer for a few games now, most notably A Valley Without Wind and its sequel: two games that fused, oddly enough, turn-based strategy with Metroidvania-esque platform shooting. Arcen's latest game Starward Rogue continues the dev's tradition of fusing disparate genres together, in this case arcade shooters and roguelikes.

I say "disparate"; Starward Rogue isn't the first game to combine roguelike elements with a shoot 'em up core, but it is the first I recall seeing designed around the principles of Japanese-style arcade shooters, particularly those of the "bullet hell" variety. That means intense, complex bullet patterns that you need to navigate through as well as enemies to defeat, and it makes for an exciting, very interesting take on a genre that all too often coasts along without any real innovation.

Starward Rogue casts you in the role of a severed head in a mech as you attempt to rescue someone called Rodney from the depths of a dungeon called the Megalith. I believe these two elements are a reference to one of Arcen's other games, but it's one I'm not familiar with at this time. Fortunately, no real knowledge of whatever the other game it's referring to is required; it's simply a bit of fanservice for those who have played the game's spiritual predecessor. Rodney is an entertaining character in his own right, though my only direct contact with him so far has been in the tutorial sequence.

Starward Rogue's gameplay is balanced nicely between exploration and action. Each level of the Megalith is split into discrete rooms, each of which has to be cleared of enemies before you can move on to the next one. Unlike similar games such as The Binding of Isaac, though, Starward Rogue's rooms are often more than a screen wide and tall, and there are a number of unique designs and layouts that you'll encounter over the course of the game, which are then combined with various enemy and trap waves — the latter tending to be non-destroyable obstacles or gun turrets that will spew out hot fiery death as you try and take down the enemies, then deactivate when you've cleared the room.

Levelling up is a simple process: no stat allocation here, simply pick one of three randomly selected perks. These vary from increased damage to having a full map available from the start of the floor — and even being able to skip the rest of the floor you're on. Alongside these passive bonuses you get from levelling, you can also equip and upgrade your infinite-ammo main gun, your recharging Energy-based weapon (which recharges when you enter a new room) and your limited-ammo Missile weapon. There are also various other passive upgrades you can collect, and one-shot consumable items that generally have some sort of "smart bomb" effect.

Much like the aforementioned The Binding of Isaac, Starward Rogue is a game intended to be replayed and rechallenged. There are a number of different mechs with which to play the game, and there's a checklist of enemies and items you've found over the course of all your runs. There are also five difficulty levels to choose from, with Very Easy all but guaranteeing a full clear run unless you are the very worst kind of incompetent moron, and the highest difficulty claiming to offer difficulty on a par with the legendary Touhou series. And on top of that there are a bunch of achievements to earn, too, so it's very much a game that will keep you busy for a long time if you get it — though it's accessible enough to be able to pick up every so often for a quick blast even if you've left it alone for a while.

I completed a Very Easy run earlier — there's no shame in starting either a roguelike or a shoot 'em up on the lowest difficulty, and this game is both! — and am already looking forward to giving it another shot soon. If you're a fan of The Binding of Isaac and its ilk — "roguelites", to use the popular term — then you could do far worse than give Starward Rogue a look.

2187: Entering the Caves of Qud

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It's been a while since I delved into a full-on proper roguelike — and by "proper" I mean none of that "roguelite" nonsense — so I was excited to give Caves of Qud a go after picking it up in the Steam sale a while back.

So far I feel like I've barely scratched the surface of this game — largely because it's very fond of killing players off even in its introductory quests — but I like it a whole lot already, simply for the sheer amount of depth there is to it, while simultaneously remaining pretty much as accessible as it's possible to be for an almost-ASCII roguelike.

Caves of Qud is a far-future roguelike in which you play the part of Some Dude/Gal who shows up in a small settlement one day and… well, there's no real initial goal beyond finding out what interesting things there are in the mysterious and far-off region of Qud up in the top-right corner of the map. The inhabitants of the first village are more than happy to present you with a few quests, however, and it's these that will provide the motivation for your initial explorations.

Caves of Qud gets interesting before the game proper starts, though. Being set in the far future, we're not in a land of elves, orcs and goblins here; we're in a land where horribly mutated individuals are the norm, and indeed it's entirely possible for you to play the game as a four-armed furry narcoleptic esper who is good at butchery and first aid, and perhaps beneficial to do so. For those who prefer slightly more "conventional" characters, you also have the option of playing as a "True Kin", who start the game with better attributes, but less customisation, and as such are, in theory, better for beginners.

The mutations are pretty interesting, since many of them have attached game effects, not all of which are directly related to dealing or soaking damage. A character that is able to spit slime, for example, doesn't do so to damage enemies — instead, slime causes anyone who steps on it to have a chance of slipping, including yourself. In this way, it can be used as a defensive measure when gobbed out between you and the enemy while you're attempting to sprint away and heal the wounds you've taken.

That's not to say the more conventional aspects aren't interesting, though. The game has an intriguing twist on the usual roguelike formula of having unidentified items: as you progress, you'll occasionally come across "artifacts", which you can use your character's intelligence to attempt to make some sense of by examining them. Sometimes these artifacts are useful pieces of equipment; at other times, they're a folding chair. You can, however, use this knowledge to your advantage by offloading the aforementioned folding chair to a character that isn't all that bright on the grounds that it's a Mysterious and Wonderful Artifact From the Old World. There are lots of wonderfully subtle touches that the game doesn't explicitly tell you about, too. Little graphical effects may look like glitches until you realise that they're raindrops, or water splashing as something moves beneath the surface; characters, enemies and monsters can get splattered with blood during combat; and not every enemy is worth engaging "just because it's there". Stumble across a Slumberling in a dungeon, for example, and you'll discover that poking it with your sword is a very bad idea indeed; take a moment to examine it before poking it, however, and you'll discover that these are creatures that spend most of their time in a deep hibernation, completely oblivious to their surroundings — and that they really don't like being disturbed.

As I say, I feel I've barely scratched the surface of all the possibilities this interesting game offers so far, but it keeps me coming back for more despite its high level of difficulty — rather than easing you in and then spiking after an initial "tutorial" area, Caves of Qud starts hard and stays hard — and one day I might actually get beyond that first dungeon… until that time, however, I shall enjoy building new characters with increasingly outlandish combinations of mutations and watching them die at the hands of a swarm of snapjaws as they bleed to death after tripping over a thorny plant in the floor having been terrified by a nearby piece of Dreadroot.

2024: Galak-Zed

0025_001 Been playing some Galak-Z on PS4 today. This is a game I've had my eye on for a while, and it's finally been released.

Galak-Z, for the uninitiated, is a "roguelite" — that is, it incorporates some aspects of roguelikes (most notably permadeath and randomly generated elements) while adding some persistent elements and making the overall experience a bit more friendly and accessible to the average person who gets frightened by ASCII.

It's actually got quite a bit in common with the indie darling Rogue Legacy from a while back, in that there's a constant sense of "progression" even when you're fucking things up repeatedly, because even when you mess up, you'll be unlocking stuff that might make future playthroughs a bit easier. Make no mistake, though, Galak-Z is a challenging game that is not afraid to kick your arse.

At heart, it's a top-down space shooter in which you complete various missions that usually boil down to "find dungeon, find thing in dungeon, destroy/collect thing, escape". This simple structure works in the game's favour, as it keeps missions short and snappy with the possibility of variations along the way according to map layouts and the enemies you'll encounter. And treasure, of course; one of the most fun aspects of Galak-Z is gradually outfitting your ship with all manner of death-dealing machinery and hoping it will save your life when one of those bastard Hammerhead ships starts chasing you.

Rather than simply tasking you with surviving as long as possible, Galak-Z is mission-based. To be specific, it's split into five "seasons", each of which requires you to complete five episodes in a row without dying in order to progress to the next. In a charming nod to '80s era Saturday morning cartoons — which the game's whole aesthetic is based on — each episode has a randomly generated title and writer, plus some enjoyable banter between the playable protagonist A-Tak and the heroine Beam.

I'm not sure what the game's longevity will be like as, having not yet finished the first season, I can't say with confidence whether the later missions are more adventurous and complex. It's certainly holding my interest right now, but I feel it may need a bit more to keep me playing in the long term. It remains to be seen whether it will provide that for me, I guess — count on a situation report when the time comes!

In the meantime, I made another video with ShareFactory detailing the game, how it works and what it's all about. Take a look!

#oneaday Day 873: Cardinal Quest is Out on iOS, and You Should Probably Buy It

There's a surprising dearth of good roguelikes on mobile platforms. While I wouldn't wish to shoehorn the ridiculous number of key commands from something like Angband onto a buttonless phone, the basic concept is a good fit. Explore randomly-generated dungeon, kill monsters, get treasure. The basic controls you need to make a roguelike work — directions and inventory, mostly — are pretty workable on a touchscreen, and the turn-based nature of the genre means that the frustration factor of trying to be accurate with non-physical controls is simply not there.

This isn't to say there aren't good roguelikes out there, however. On iOS, there's 100 Rogues, Sword of Fargoal and several others I haven't tried. On Android, the pickings are a bit more slim, though there are a few out there for the taking.

Today, iOS added Cardinal Quest to its lineup, a rather wonderful little roguelike with a pleasing retro aesthetic, streamlined gameplay and the kind of addictive nature that is perfect for mobile games.

Cardinal Quest isn't a new title, however; it's been available for Windows, Mac OS X and Linux machines for quite a while now, and there's a free demo you can play over on Kongregate. But its release on iOS today marks its first jump onto portable devices.

For the uninitiated, Cardinal Quest is a simplistic dungeon-crawler that cites Gauntlet, Golden Axe and red-box Dungeons & Dragons games as its key inspirations. Taking on the role of one of three different pixelated heroes, the player descends into the randomly-generated dungeons to seek their fortune and hopefully defeat the evil minotaur lurking in the depths. Along the way they'll discover treasure and a variety of different spells to make their journey easier.

Cardinal Quest adds a few nice little twists on the conventional roguelike formula. Walking over an item of equipment, for example, causes your character to automatically decide whether it's better than what he already has or not, and replace it if necessary. There's no faffing around with comparing stats, it simply takes care of it for you. This might irk purists a bit, but it keeps things nice and pacy.

Similarly, special abilities aren't learned, but are instead found as treasure. Five can be equipped at once, while others are stored in the inventory. Instead of using a magic points system, each skill has a cooldown determined by one of the character's stats, making some inherently more suitable for certain classes than others — though, so far as I can tell from my brief time with the game so far, any class can use any spell.

Also, while the game does feature permadeath as all good roguelikes should, there's a bit of a safety net in place in the form of a "lives" system that lets the player walk away from a couple of fatal encounters before succumbing to oblivion. It makes the experience a little more friendly to newbies while still remaining brutal enough to provide genre veterans with a decent challenge.

Wrap the whole thing in pleasingly blocky pixel-art, retro sound effects and chiptune music and you've got Cardinal Quest in a nutshell. Grab it here for $1.99.

#oneaday Day 830: Roguelikes, for the Adventure-Curious

I was having an idle discussion with a couple of people on Twitter earlier, at least one of whom I know reads this blog (hi Anne!) and the subject turned to that of roguelikes. This is a genre of gaming that I've got to know quite well over the last couple of years and while I'm still not that good at them (I'm yet to beat one, for example), I feel I know a bit more about the genre now.

Quick recap for the uninitiated: a roguelike is a (usually) turn-based role-playing game typically focused on exploring randomly-generated dungeons, killing as many monsters as possible and acquiring lots of lovely loot. Sometimes there is a plot or quests and usually there's some way to "win", but they tend to be monstrously difficult games and generally feature "permadeath" in that they delete your save game if you happen to kick the bucket during one of your (mis)adventures.

It's easy to see them as utterly impenetrable, however, thanks largely to the fact that many of them are presented using purely ASCII graphics, making them look more like something from Teletext than cutting-edge interactive entertainment. The fact that some of the more popular ones have a key command mapped to literally every key on the keyboard (shifted and non-shifted) doesn't help matter, either.

So what I've gone and done is pick out some of the roguelikes I've played over the years that seem to be pretty accessible and easily-understandable. Then, if you're curious, you can try them out for yourself. If not, you can, I don't know, go and harass a badger or something.

So let us begin.

Diablo III

Okay, technically it's not a roguelike in the strictest definition of the genre, but Blizzard's upcoming title shares a lot of DNA with the genre. Randomly-generated dungeons, a focus on combat and loot whoring rather than plot (though the game does have a story, and seemingly somewhat better delivered than in its predecessors) and even the option for permadeath if you're feeling masochistic. The Diablo series has always been very accessible yet deep for those willing to invest some time and effort into it, and early indications seem to be that the third iteration will be no exception. It also has a great multiplayer mode, which is the highlight of the experience for many.

Where to get it: Buy it for PC here. It'll be released on May 15, but you can preorder and pre-download now.

Dungeons of Dredmor

Dredmor is an independently-developed roguelike from Gaslamp Games. The game casts players in the role of a male or female hero with a custom combination of skills — some useful, some just plain bizarre. It's then up to the player to battle their way down through the titular dungeons on their way to a confrontation with Dredmor himself. Dungeons of Dredmor is accessible in that there are not many commands to remember and the base mechanics are pretty simple. It also has attractive pixel-art graphics, a bizarrely cheerful soundtrack and an excellent sense of humour. The developers also regularly release updates to the game that improve the experience significantly.

Where to get it: Buy it for PC and Mac via Steam.

Hack, Slash, Loot

Hack, Slash, Loot differs from many other roguelikes in its scope. Its quests are short, there's no level grinding for experience points and the only stuff the player character can carry is the stuff they have equipped. Potions and scrolls are used immediately, and equipment is swapped out when picked up, meaning players have to weigh up whether or not their newly-discovered loot is worth taking with them. The whole thing is wrapped in an endearing retro aesthetic and its difficulty level is fond of kicking you repeatedly in the face until you cry. As compensation, however, the more you die, the more characters and quests you unlock.

Where to get it: Buy it for PC and Mac via Steam.

Doom: The Roguelike

Doom: The Roguelike (or DoomRL as it is often referred to) is an excellent example of the creativity often seen in the genre. The game is quite literally a reimagining of the original Doom but rendered as a roguelike. Until recently, it combined the original music and sounds of Doom with ASCII art, but the most recent update has added graphics, new music and remastered sounds. It's a simple but fun experience and works considerably better than you might expect. Best of all, it's free.

Where to get it: Download it for PC, Mac or Linux for free here, though the Mac port is a bit dodgy.

Tales of Maj'Eyal

Tales of Maj'Eyal (formerly Tales of Middle Earth) is one of the more well-established names in the free roguelike sector. It's a more complex game than some of its peers, but its interface is accessible and the mechanics are straightforward to understand. There are lots of different character classes to try, and lots of locations to explore. The game is relatively unusual in the genre for including a "world map" and towns to explore between dungeons, giving it a more traditional RPG structure while still punching you in the squishy bits with its difficulty on a regular basis.

Where to get it: Download it for PC, Mac or Linux here.

100 Rogues

The quintessential iOS roguelike, 100 Rogues combines attractive retro pixel art with simple mechanics and addictive gameplay. The quest is short enough that it could potentially be finished in one sitting, and you get the opportunity to battle the Pope. Like most of its peers, it's incredibly challenging, but very addictive.

Where to get it: Buy it for iPhone and iPad here.

There are hundreds of other examples out there, but these are some that I've played and enjoyed as someone who is still something of a greenhorn in the genre. Why not check them out? In my experience, roguelikes are some of the best games for creating "emergent narratives" — that is, the stories that occur naturally through your play rather than an explicit narrative included by the developer. Stories like these, for example.

#oneaday, Day 331: Like A Ro-ogue, Killed For The Very First Time

Horatio Spankington was one of several children to a Serf, and a credit to his family. He had brown eyes, curly red hair and a dark complexion, lending him a somewhat distinctive look that his father often joked would probably "end him up in some freak show somewhere".

He joined the ranks of the Paladins at an early age, and by the time he was 18 he had determined that it was time to go dungeon-delving. He rented a room in a small village above a notorious dungeon, and prepared for the long quest ahead.

One morning, he awoke, and his God spoke to him, granting him the power to detect evil things. Rushing straight for the stairs down into the dungeon, he was eager to try out his new power. Concentrating as hard as he could, he prayed fervently for sight beyond sight, to see where the evil things dwelled.

The effort caused him to faint out cold for a few minutes. When he awoke, all was as it was before, though he wasn't in a hurry to ask his God for anything else for a little while.

He pulled out the makeshift weapons and armour that he had acquired, and lit his torch. He looked around.

"What a boring place," he thought.

He looked around the room he found himself in and found a curious scrap of paper on the floor. It read "pro redam."

"Pro redam," he said out loud. Suddenly, he felt more knowledgeable, and figured that he could probably figure out exactly what the next thing he looked at was, whatever it might turn out to be. He stowed the magic scroll in his pack and headed for a tunnel in the wall nearest to him.

The tunnel was quite long, and went around several twisting corners, but eventually led him to a long, narrow room. There was a curious smell in the room. He gazed around, looking for the source of the stench and eventually found it in the form of a patch of grey mould. Figuring that he may as well cleanse the dungeon of filth as well as evil, he strode boldly toward the grey mould, broadsword in hand.

The mould let out a cloud of spores, which tickled his nose and made him sneeze. Undeterred, he whacked the patch of mould with the flat of his sword, dispersing it.

He looked around the room. There was nothing of interest here, save several tunnels in the walls. He chose one and strode valiantly into it.

After a couple of twists and turns, he came to a closed door. Trying the handle, he found it to be unlocked, so he opened it carefully and peered into the room beyond. He couldn't see anything in there, so he stepped through the archway and took a look around.

The room was pretty dark, so he walked along the walls, using the light from his torch to get his bearings. His first impressions were correct; there was little of note here. In fact, the room was more of a wide corridor, with two tunnels leading off in different directions at one side, and another closed door at the other.

He tried the handle on the door, and found it to be locked. Pulling out a safety pin he always kept for emergencies such as this, he inserted it into the lock and fumbled around inexpertly and to his surprise, succeeded in opening the door. He stepped through the doorway cautiously, unsure what he might find beyond.

The corridor beyond the door extended for a short distance and turned a few corners before opening up into a large, light room. This, too, was empty of interesting details, but there were tunnels leading off in a number of directions, along with another door in one wall.

Figuring that the doors hadn't steered him wrong yet, he headed for the door and tried the handle. It was locked, but again he tried his safety-pin trick and to his surprise, it worked.

Beyond the door was a long, twisting and turning corridor that seemed to go on forever. Eventually, it opened up into a long, thin room, and there was that terrible smell again. Another patch of mould sat waiting for him. Feeling bold, he charged for it.

Suddenly, an acrid black smoke filled his nostrils and stung his eyes. He tried to brush it away, but he couldn't. He tried to blink his eyes clear, but he couldn't see anything. The smoke was too thick. He staggered around blindly, setting off the trap several more times, stinging his eyes more and more each time.

The stench of the mould was getting stronger and stronger. He flailed wildly at the mould, trying to destroy it, but he felt the spores blow up his nose, into his throat, filling his lungs. He began to feel sick.

Something crawled on him. It felt blubbering and icky, and he heard a chewing sound. He still couldn't see, and the foul smell and darkness were confusing him.

He felt weak. Finally, coughing up blood and vomit, he barged head-first into a granite wall, collapsed onto his back and whimpered.

Horatio Spankington died just 50 feet below the surface of the earth. Few people mourned his passing, least of all the family of the drooling village idiot he claimed to have "accidentally" killed upon leaving a shop one morning.

The dungeon lay unconquered still. Many had come to tackle its dangers. None had survived so far.

Try it for yourself if you can stomach a bit of hardcore ASCII dungeon-crawling. Download Angband here.

#oneaday, Day 294: Filthy Rogue

The roguelike genre is one I only discovered relatively recently. In fact, I was a relative latecomer to the whole RPG genre, only getting to grips with it for the first time with Final Fantasy VII. As such, for a good few years, I felt that RPGs were all about strong stories, interesting (and sometimes clichéd) characters, a buildup to an epic final conflict and some of the best music you'll ever hear.

As such, when I played an RPG that wasn't so strong on the story and focused more on loot-whoring or level-grinding, I found myself losing interest quickly. It was long after its release that I finally beat Diablo II and, to this date, I've never beaten it on anything other than the normal difficulty level.

That changed when I came across Angband, though. Angband looks like the sort of game you used to play on Teletext. Sure, there are graphical tilesets you can customise it with. But at its heart, it's a text-based game with about a bajillion keyboard commands.

But you know what? The kind of emergent narrative that came out of several intense Angband sessions rivalled any pre-scripted tales that Squeenix have ever come out with. Largely because it was so unpredictable, and that any screw-ups were inevitably your fault for failing to prepare adequately, rather than the fault of the game mechanics itself.

Take the time my oil lamp ran out on the fifth level of the dungeon. This meant, in gameplay terms, that I couldn't "see" new passageways ahead of me—namely, they weren't revealed on the map—unless I banged into a wall, which then helpfully revealed said wall on the map for me. My first reaction in this instant was, of course, to panic. Death in Angband doesn't mean restoring a saved game. Oh no. Death in Angband means your save game getting deleted and you having to start all over again. This adds an enormous amount of pressure on you, the player, to get it right. And it also makes you kick yourself when you realise that you didn't bring enough oil to fuel your lamp.

So off I went, slowly "feeling" my way along the walls of the corridors in an attempt to find the stairs up… for five floors. This sounds like an impossible task. But after a fairly lengthy period of methodical, careful searching (and a few terrifying combats in the pitch darkness) I finally managed to emerge victorious to town level, stock up on oil and provisions and jump back into the dungeon with renewed fervour.

Of course, I promptly got twatted by an Ogre, making all that work utterly meaningless. But it didn't matter—it was a fun experience unlike anything I'd experienced in a game before. And I've struggled to repeat it with any game since then.

Not through lack of trying, though. There are some great roguelikes out there, many of which are a lot more accessible than Angband. I have three favourites I'd like to share with you right now, one of which is, of all things, a board game. The other two are iPhone games.

Sword of Fargoal is actually a remake of an old Commodore 64-era title which didn't look like the picture above. No, it looked like this:

The best thing about Sword of Fargoal is its simplicity coupled with a surprising amount of hidden depth. While Angband is rather intimidating to get started with, with pretty much every key on the keyboard (shifted and non-shifted) mapped to something, Fargoal simply requires that you get to grips with moving and using a context-sensitive button in the top-right corner. And keeping an eye on the text display at the top of the screen for hints and cues, too. Combat is a case of running into an enemy—the player and monster will then take turns bashing each other until one or the other falls over or one runs away. Gold is collected to sacrifice at altars throughout the dungeon for experience point bonuses. And the rest is left to the player to discover. The more you play, the more you start to notice little graphical details and cues tipping you off to the location of traps or treasure.

And it's challenging, too. There are 15 levels to explore, all of which are sprawling monstrosities with several areas. And when you make it to the bottom to recover the titular blade, you then have to escape again. I haven't even made it to the bottom yet. It's a lengthy, challenging quest. And despite the fact that death is permanent, it's addictive and easy to return to.

Then we have 100 Rogues, which takes a slightly different approach to that of Sword of Fargoal. While Fargoal's quest is lengthy, 100 Rogues can potentially be beaten in one sitting. Key word here being "potentially". 100 Rogues is particularly brutal, fond of surrounding the player and battering them to a pulp. Fortunately, the player also has a Diablo-style skill tree at their disposal, including a number of attacks that can beat back several enemies at the same time.

It's very difficult, though, and the descriptions of the game on the App Store don't even try and hide the fact that you will die. A lot. In fact, there's even a Game Center Achievement for having sent the titular 100 rogues to their eventual demise.

I only picked this up recently, but it's immensely appealing due to its 16-bit graphics and soundtrack. It looks and plays like a Genesis/Mega Drive game, in a good way. It's a bit buggy in places but the author appears to be committed to regular updates.

Finally, one of my favourite roguelikes of all time is Warhammer Quest, a game that involves you having people you actually don't mind being in the same room with. Featuring all the genre staples—a randomly generated dungeon, permadeath, brutal difficulty, vast amounts of phat lewt—it's very much the board game equivalent of Rogue et al. Even better, everyone gets to join in on the fun—there's no need for a Game Master player (unless you really want to use one) as the rules cater fully for monster "behaviour".

Couple that with the game's immense customisability (it's a word) thanks to its use of Games Workshop Citadel Miniatures line of figures and you have a game with limitless potential. And hundreds—hundreds—of tiny pieces of card and plastic.

So there you go. A whistlestop tour of the roguelike genre. And I didn't even mention Moria or NetHack once.