2361: Up to Date on Ys

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Just in time to cover it extensively this month over on MoeGamer, I’m finally up to date on the Ys series, as I finished Memories of Celceta tonight.

I’m glad I finally took the time to play through it all, as it really is a remarkable series that has evolved considerably since its humble beginnings. I’ll save the history lesson for MoeGamer, though, and talk a bit about Memories of Celceta specifically.

Memories of Celceta builds on what Ys Seven started, and does it very well. While Ys Seven felt a little bit clunky at times — at least partly due to the fact that it was running on the crusty old PSP hardware — Celceta feels much more fluid and refined. It’s not perfect — the poor old Vita struggles to keep the framerate up when there’s lots happening on screen, but it never really becomes a problem. No, I’m talking more about the gameplay; combat is fluid and satisfying, and the skills each character has all feel a lot more distinct than the rather feeble ones you had for the majority of Seven. Different characters have clear purposes, both in and out of combat, and each one is enjoyable to fight as.

The thing I liked the most about it, I think, was the emphasis on exploration. The central concept of the game is that protagonist Adol is exploring the uncharted forest of Celceta, a job well suited to an adventurer such as he. Indeed, your progress in the game roughly corresponds to your progress uncovering the surprisingly sprawling map, and by the end of the game you’ll be at, or at least close to, 100% of the forest being mapped out.

And it’s an interesting forest, too, with plenty of distinct areas rather than remaining uniformly green and leafy throughout. There are plains-like clearings, towering mountains, crystalline lakes and damp, soggy marshland. Later in the game there’s the Ashen Forest, which is a beautiful, almost otherworldly area bathed in a curious sparkling, purple mist.

I found myself missing the “jump” button from Oath in Felghana and its ilk less in Celceta than I did in Ys Seven. This is because the maps were overall better designed and more interesting to explore. Ys Seven’s dungeons in particular weren’t bad as such, but it’s clear that technological limitations, at times, held Falcom’s designers back a bit from making some really interesting levels.

I particularly liked the various “artifacts” you acquire throughout Celceta, many of which provide you with new traversal abilities in true Metroidvania tradition. The Hydra Scales, for example, allow you to swim underwater and reach otherwise inaccessible chests and areas, while the Gale Boots allow you to run incredibly fast, even straight up certain walls. The controls for some of these non-standard means of traversal are occasionally a bit wobbly — steering the Gale Boots is near-impossible, so you better line up before you unleash them, for example, and combat underwater is a terrible experience proving that Falcom, unfortunately, didn’t learn anything from Ys Origin’s excellent underwater section — but they never get in the way of gameplay, because they’re usually required only to bypass a particular obstacle, at which point you can just get back to doing what Adol does best — hacking and slashing through hordes of enemies.

I won’t spoil anything, but the finale was fantastic, too. The Ys games have all had excellent finales so far, and Celceta certainly didn’t disappoint with a particularly strong final confrontation and the unusual move of having a few things extra to do after the “final” boss. It was dramatic, exciting — and, perhaps most importantly, extremely relevant to the overall Ys lore, which, again, is something that Falcom excels at. By now, the lore of the world of Ys is extremely well-realised, with each new game bringing us new information about a region or country; effectively, we learn about these lands alongside Adol as he continues his quest to see every part of the world “without shortcuts”.

I’m a total convert to Ys, then, and you better believe I’ll be all over Ys VIII when it inevitably comes West. In the meantime, have a rest, Adol Christin, you’ve definitely earned it.

2348: I Beat Ys Seven

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I beat Ys Seven tonight. That leaves just one more Ys game to play through before I’ve beaten every one of the currently available games in the series, making me eminently ready for Ys VIII, whenever that makes its way West, because it almost certainly (hopefully) will.

Ys Seven is an interesting change after the three games built on the Ys VI engine — Ys VI, Oath in Felghana and Ys Origin. I kind of miss some of the defining aspects of those three games — most notably the platforming elements, which are completely absent from Seven — but Seven very much does its own thing and takes ownership of it, creating an experience that is satisfying in its own right, even if it’s a slightly jarring change of pace initially.

The first thing to note about Ys Seven is that it’s at least twice the length of previous Ys games. This still puts it at well under the average length of a typical JRPG these days — it took me 24 hours to beat on Normal — but makes it feel significantly longer than the previous titles. This isn’t a bad thing, though; along with the greater length comes greater scope: Ys Seven’s narrative feels more ambitious and, for want of a better word, epic than its predecessors; while past Ys games felt very much like you were taking care of business in a small, localised area, Ys Seven does a good job of making you feel like the fate of a whole country is at stake. There’s a sprawling overworld to explore, and several villages, each with their own unique aesthetic.

This rather more sprawling scale comes at a slight cost: while past Ys games’ small geographical area meant that pretty much every character in the game had a name and a story to tell, Ys Seven’s NPCs, for the most part, feel quite a bit more generic. This is partly due to the fact that none of them have names, instead being called things like “Obliging Maid” and suchlike — with the curious exception of questgivers, who all have very Western names like “Kevin Lassiter” — but I suppose it does help keep the focus on the main cast, which, in keeping with the rest of the experience, is significantly bigger than previous Ys games.

Even your party is bigger. Adol is no longer alone, bringing up to two companions in tow this time, and there’s a reason for this: enemies now have various resistances, meaning you need a balanced party that can cover all types of damage, otherwise you simply won’t be able to kill some enemies. For most of the game, there’s little reason to switch out from the default party of Adol, longtime companion (but first time playable) Dogi and whoever fills the third slot at that point in the party, but upon reaching the final boss the reason for the total squad size being seven members becomes clear. Be sure to keep everyone’s equipment up to date — thankfully, inactive characters gain experience at the same rate as the front line, so there’s no need to go out of your way to grind too much.

One aspect of the game that feels very different comes when you’re fighting a boss. Whereas in past Ys games boss fights were almost puzzles and dexterity challenges, where you’d have to dodge incoming attacks and take advantage of openings, Ys Seven’s bosses are often damage sponges that, at least on Normal difficulty, feel like they can be beaten more through brute force than anything. On the harder difficulty levels I can see them being stiffer challenges, because you’re more limited in the healing items you can carry, but certainly on Normal, I could get through most bosses without too much difficulty by just making sure I had enough potions on hand. It wasn’t until the final boss, which has significantly more complex mechanics than any of the other fights in the game, that I found myself having to be a bit more careful with what I was doing.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; Ys Seven’s boss fights are enjoyably hard work and feel like you’re struggling against a powerful opponent. Like a lot of other things in the game, though, coming straight off Oath in Felghana, Origin and Ark of Napishtim, it’s a bit of an adjustment for sure.

Above all, though, Ys Seven keeps the heart of Ys firmly intact. It’s wonderfully sincere about everything, but isn’t afraid to show a sense of humour now and again. That said, it’s overall considerably darker than any of the previous installments, particularly around the middle of the story, giving it a distinctive feel. It’s not overly grimdark or anything — it’s still a bright, colourful, earnest quest featuring a silent protagonist who quite literally lives for adventure — but it was a little surprising to see things like a shirtless Adol getting tortured in a jail cell after a particularly dramatic revelation partway through.

I enjoyed it a lot, in other words. Now I just have Memories of Celceta to go and I’m up to date. And then I will have to physically restrain myself from going back to the beginning and doing a Nightmare run, I feel…

2339: Adol Wins Again

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I finished Ys: The Oath in Felghana tonight, after a bit less swearing at the initially unassailable-seeming final boss than I anticipated.

That was an absolutely brilliant game. Well-paced, enjoyable to play, challenging but never insurmountable and certainly didn’t outstay its welcome; my game clock read just over 12 hours at the end, although GOG Galaxy claims I actually played it for 24 hours, which can probably be accounted for with a number of boss fights that took a significant number of attempts to clear.

Make no mistake, Oath was a difficult game, but it never felt overly punishing. Indeed, any time that I found myself staring at a Game Over screen, I always knew that it was my fault. Specifically, it was usually the result of overconfidence: charging headlong into a group of powerful enemies, hoping to obliterate them all quickly and gain a ton of XP, but instead getting torn to shreds. Or, in the case of boss fights, it was a matter of learning the attack patterns and then being able to execute suitable countermeasures.

The boss fights were a particular highlight, because they featured an absolute ton of variety and mechanics to pay attention to. The first couple of bosses were very much about dodging and timing, while others were about inventive use of your skills to avoid damage. What I particularly liked were the several encounters that initially seemed absolutely impossible to complete, but which after a bit of practice and careful observation proved to be somewhat less of a problem than I initially believed they would be.

Oath is old-school in its sensibilities in that failure is part of the experience. When you first encounter a boss, you pretty much need to fail in order to understand what it’s doing and how it affects you. I’ve said this before, but in many ways it reminds me of fighting fast-paced versions of Final Fantasy XIV bosses: all mechanics can be countered and dealt with in some way, whether that’s through dodging, skill use or various ways of protecting yourself. There are always clear visual and auditory cues as to what’s about to happen, allowing you to prepare yourself appropriately, and in situations where you’re expected to perform more complex actions such as switching between skills in the heat of battle, the encounters are designed in such a way that you always have time to perform the actions you need to rather than suffering under a relentless assault. Indeed, it’s certainly possible to defeat the final boss without taking any damage because there’s an Achievement for doing so, and I imagine most of the others can also be handled in such a manner.

I also enjoyed the plot a great deal. While I missed the presence of Feena and Reah from Ys I, II and Origin, the new characters were well-defined and interesting. The villains in particular had some interesting plot arcs, and the game threw up several unexpected curveballs towards its conclusion.

Character highlights for me included series recurring character Dogi, who despite being big enough to crush walls comes across as one of the nicest people in the world, and this game’s vaguely implied romantic interest Elena, who was both adorably cute and a genuinely likeable character. I felt a bit bad leaving her behind at the end of the game, but I’m getting the impression protagonist Adol is a bit of a player; I’m anticipating a variety of other cute girls over the course of the games in the series that I’m yet to play.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again; I’m sorry that I haven’t checked out this series sooner. I’m having an absolute blast with it, and I’m very much looking forward to the upcoming Ys VIII, which I’ll be very surprised if we don’t see come West courtesy of Xseed Games in the near future. Given how much I’ve enjoyed the series so far, I feel fairly confident saying that I’ll probably be there day one when it finally comes out.

2335: Goddesses

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I finished Ys Origin’s true route this evening, and if the first two games hadn’t already convinced me this is a series that will stay with me a long time, that ending would have certainly done it. The way it establishes the backstory of things that are just a matter of course in Ys I and II is beautiful, and it brings a whole new layer of meaning to the overarching storyline and mythology of the series. I’m looking forward to seeing how — if? — this mythology fits into the games I’m yet to play.

The thing that’s struck me most from these three games in the series that I’ve played so far is how beautifully the goddesses Reah and Feena are handled. It’s hard to tell whether this is the work of the original Japanese script or Xseed’s excellent localisation, but either way, they’re wonderfully depicted characters that act as an important centrepiece to these three episodes of the overall storyline.

The most striking thing about them is how overwhelmingly nice they are. And I don’t mean in a bland, uninteresting way; both Reah and Feena are convincingly friendly, approachable characters despite being divine beings, and there’s a decent amount of the backstory in Ys Origin in particular that deals with their loneliness and desire to have friends among the humans rather than being revered as the powerful beings they are. Indeed, even in Ys I where series protagonist Adol Christin encounters an apparently amnesiac Feena, she seems keen to cling on to him and develop a close personal relationship.

They’re a study in contrasts, too, despite being similar in appearance and bearing. Feena is kind and gentle — the sort of person it would probably be nice to have a hug from. Reah, meanwhile, is more willful and stubborn, but counterbalances this with a similarly graceful demeanour and a desire to always be hospitable to those who have the confidence to approach and address her. They make a good pair, and while we don’t see a huge amount of either of them in the first two Ys games, this is more than made up for in Ys Origin, where we get to spend quite a bit of time with both of them.

Perhaps the nicest thing about them is the feeling that the Ysian religion, based on following the teachings of the Six Priests and worshipping Feena and Reah, is both plausible as a belief system and comforting. It’s not infallible, by any means, either — indeed, Toal comments to the goddesses in Ys Origin that they are “barely even half perfect”, and it’s partly everything the goddesses and their helpers put in place that led to the apocalyptic situation that greets you from the outset of Ys Origin — but it’s obvious that the goddesses, both as people and as mythological figures, bring great comfort to the populace. In a world where JRPGs in particular often take rather ruthless aim at religion as part of their narratives, highlighting the negative aspects rather than the positives, the Ysian approach to belief systems is almost refreshing.

I think that sums up the tone of the series quite nicely, too. While there’s plenty of darkness, evil and unpleasantness going on — arguably more so in Ys Origin than in I and II — there’s an overall warm feeling to the series that brings to mind comforting childhood stories like fairy tales and fables. I anticipate that this feeling will become stronger as I spend more time with regular series protagonist Adol in the subsequent games, but the three distinct stories in Ys Origin unfolded in a compelling, interesting manner, too; they presented a convincing back story to what unfolds 700 years later in Ys I and II, and I’m left with an almost overwhelming desire to immediately go back and play I and II again having seen what Origins’ story had to offer.

I’ll save that for now, though; I’ve still got Oath in Felghana, Ys VI, Ys Seven and Memories of Celceta to get through. And I’m looking forward to all of them.

2330: Play It Again

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So many games these days are designed to be played once and then put aside — or, in some cases, played forever and ever and ever and ever — that it’s been quite a refreshing feeling playing through Ys Origin for a second time on a harder difficulty with a different playable character. It’s making me quite nostalgic for the PlayStation 1 era in particular, and is reminding me somewhat of one of the earliest games I recall taking this sort of approach: Resident Evil 2.

Resident Evil 2 was actually really neat when it came to its multiple playthroughs. You’d play it once as one of the two lead characters, then play it again as the other lead to see what they were doing while the first lead was doing their thing. Then you’d start a new game as the other lead character, then play it again as the first lead character to see what they were doing while the other lead was doing their thing. Naturally this was a nightmare for continuity and meant that there wasn’t really a “definitive” version of the story, but it didn’t really matter: it meant you could go through the game four times and have a somewhat (albeit marginally) different experience each time.

But Resident Evil 2 — and indeed Ys Origin — didn’t stop there. No, there were unlockable secrets, once the preserve of the mysterious tips pages in games magazines, but these days discovered by people with a lot of time on their hands in seemingly minutes flat. And they’re significant secrets, too: Resident Evil 2 allows you to play an entirely new scenario as a character called Hunk as well as, rather oddly, a large block of tofu, while Ys Origin unlocks a third playable character after your first playthrough, then unlocks Time Attack, Boss Rush and Arena Modes after that, meaning that — assuming you want to carry on — the game is far from over when you’ve beaten the final boss with all the characters and seen all the story. And then there’s the various difficulty modes and achievements to play with, too — it ultimately makes the whole game considerably better value than it might first appear, with its 6-10 hour playtime for a single runthrough.

I kind of miss this approach. There was a feeling of discovery and excitement as you worked to unlock secrets and extras in games, and you felt good when you achieved it, finally, because it was the result of actually achieving something in the game. These days, however, extra modes and stories are all too often the preserve of DLC, which just doesn’t have the same magic at all, largely because you have to 1) pay for it and 2) don’t have to earn it to unlock it.

I know not everyone likes having to unlock things to be able to enjoy it all, but it’s always been something I’ve liked, and a fundamental part of many gaming experiences. Ys Origin — and, I anticipate, the other Ys games I’m yet to work my way through — is proving to be a pleasantly enjoyable reminder of The Good Old Days in more ways than one, and just another reason I’m becoming increasingly enamoured with both the series and Falcom as a developer.

2329: Another Trip Up Darm Tower

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I finished my first playthrough of Ys Origin earlier. I chose to play through for the first time with Yunica Tovah, who apparently handles most like Adol in the subsequent 3D Ys games, but now I’m going through it again with Hugo Fact, who plays impressively differently.

One thing that struck me with Ys II in particular, and it appears to be a pattern that continues with Origin and its ilk, is how much shoot ’em up DNA is in this series. Numerous bosses have distinctly “bullet hell”-style attacks requiring intricate dodging and pattern recognition, for example, but this connection is most obvious when playing Origin as Hugo, since even his basic attack involves firing bullets. Hell, he even has two “options” (sorry, “The Eyes of Fact”) floating either side of him to fire additional bullets, which double in number when he uses Boost mode.

It’s interesting quite how different a feel this contrasting playstyle provides, since you’re otherwise going through pretty much the same levels and boss fights as in Yunica’s story, albeit with different cutscenes and a few minor changes here and there. Boss fights in particular are a very different affair when playing as Hugo, since rather than it being necessary to get in melee range as with Yunica, as Hugo you have to play a lot more defensively, attacking from range in suitable openings and taking great care to avoid attacks, since Hugo is considerably squishier than Yunica is. Not only that, but Hugo’s individual attacks do quite a bit less damage than Yunica’s axe and sword swings, though he makes up for this by being able to attack 1) from a distance and 2) much more rapidly than Yunica.

I’m also playing this second runthrough on Hard difficulty; I’m not quite brave enough for the series’ signature Nightmare difficulty yet, but I thought I’d step things up for Hugo, since I felt pretty confident with Yunica by the end of my first playthrough. It’s noticeably harder, particularly when it comes to boss fights. I’m not entirely sure if this is down to enemies’ boosted stats or simply the different way Hugo plays that I haven’t quite gotten used to yet, but I’m finding myself having to retry boss fights more times than I did on Normal with Yunica.

One of the things I like about Ys Origin so far is that although the boss fights are very difficult, I don’t think there’s been a single encounter in the game where I felt like I was beating my head against a wall. In other words, although I might fail a boss fight several times in succession, I’d make noticeable progress each time, chipping away a little further at the enemy life bar each time until I was eventually successful. It’s a matter of practice and skill rather than luck; in some ways, it reminds me quite a bit of Final Fantasy XIV raid bosses, where you need to know what’s going to happen in the fight before you can even think about being successful; flailing wildly isn’t going to work, at all.

Anyway. I’m keen to get through Ys Origin for a second time with Hugo, and then polish it off a third time with the “secret” third character, whose story is quite a bit different from Yunica and Hugo’s, from what I understand. By playing all three stories, you get the full narrative; this is an approach that some people find tiresome — particularly if they have to play through the same levels again with a different character, as you do here — but it’s something I always enjoy. I really enjoy seeing stories from multiple perspectives, and while Ys is fairly conventional fantasy in many ways, it’s well-written, well-localised and features some entertaining, endearing characters, so I’m more than happy to plough through it to see everything it has to offer.

Then after that, there’s Time Attack, Boss Rush and Arena Mode, of course, which I’m curious to at least try… so much for being a short game!

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.

2252: Estival Versus: Early Impressions

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As I said the other day after finishing Senran Kagura 2: Deep Crimson, the follow-up to the Vita spinoff Shinovi Versus, Estival Versus, was waiting for me to stick it in my PS4 and start rumbling in the sunshine. So that’s what I’ve been doing.

A recap for those who aren’t familiar with the complete Senran Kagura series and its continuity: first came 3DS game Senran Kagura Burst (actually a remake of the Japan-only Senran Kagura: Portrait of Girls with an additional full-length story from the perspective of the “evil” shinobi), which introduced the ten girls who make up the cast members from “good” shinobi school Hanzou and “evil” shinobi school Hebijo (as well as recurring guest characters Daidouji and Rin) and took the form of a 2.5D brawler with simple RPG-style character progression.

Then came Vita game Senran Kagura Shinovi Versus, which followed on directly from Burst’s story and introduced ten new characters: five from another “good” shinobi school Gessen and five who took the place of the now-renegade Homura’s Crimson Squad at Hebijo. The story focused on characterisation of the four groups and their interactions with one another, but in its final moments teased what would become the main conflict of the Senran Kagura series: the clash between shinobi (both good and evil) and the demonic youma. Gameplay made the jump from fixed-perspective 2.5D to third-person 3D, leading many to (somewhat erroneously) draw comparisons to Koei Tecmo’s Warriors series.

This was followed by 3DS game Senran Kagura 2: Deep Crimson, which left behind the new Gessen and Hebijo characters in favour of focusing on the original cast once again, and pushing the shinobi-youma plot arc forward with the introduction of legendary character Kagura and a strong focus on the machinations of the evil Hebijo chairman Dougen. Deep Crimson returned to fixed camera angles but had a stronger sense of depth than Burst, making it feel more along the lines of a somewhat less setpiece-heavy Devil May Cry than Streets of Rage.

And then we come to Estival Versus, the latest release. (There was also Senran Kagura Bon Appetit among all that lot somewhere, but that’s a deliberately comedic spinoff rather than a canonical entry in the main narrative.) Estival Versus is the first of the series to appear on home consoles as well as handhelds thanks to its simultaneous PlayStation 4 and Vita releases, and it marks a return to Shinovi Versus’ 3D fighting formula, with battles unfolding in large 3D arenas rather than side-on, linear levels.

My initial impressions here are based exclusively on the PlayStation 4 version, I should probably point out; from what I understand, the Vita version is pretty solid, mind, it just runs at a lower framerate and resolution — and, obviously, is on a smaller screen (unless you use a PlayStation TV). As such, take comments about the technical performance of the game accordingly.

Well, then, that would seem like a decent place to start: for the most part, Estival Versus runs beautifully fluidly, with crisp, high-definition graphics, the beautiful character animation that has come to exemplify the series, and a smooth framerate that usually sticks around the 60 mark with a few exceptions when things get particularly busy. Even when the framerate drops, however, the action continues to feel fast and fluid, giving the game a pleasantly “arcadey” feel.

The jump to the big screen makes a surprising amount of difference. Combat feels rather more weighty than it did in Shinovi Versus, particularly when you use the characters that wield heavy, slow weapons rather than the more hack-and-slash-friendly characters. This is a good thing, on the whole; every character feels noticeably distinct from one another, and getting to learn some of the more challenging characters is satisfying.

Besides the returning cast from Shinovi Versus, there are a number of new characters, too: the three “Mikaruga Sisters”, each of whom handles very differently, along with some other characters who are particularly important to a number of aspects of Senran Kagura lore at large.

I can’t speak for the entire story yet, but Estival Versus so far seems to be following a similar pattern to Shinovi Versus: beginning with what sounds like it should be a throwaway plot that simply provides an excuse for all the characters to fight one another, but which actually turns out to be a means of exploring these characters in a considerable amount of depth. Here, the basic concept is that the casts from the four schools have been somehow whisked away to a tropical paradise where dead shinobi who have not yet found rest appear to linger. Shortly after arriving, the girls are challenged to take part in the “Shinobi bon dance” ritual — a battle royale that demands each of the groups smash the others’ festival platforms in an attempt to assert their dominance and, subsequently, be allowed home first.

It sounds kind of dumb initially, and indeed the first couple of chapters of the game largely consist of the girls messing around and being silly with one another. By the third “day” of the festival, however, things start picking up, and some of the central mysteries surrounding the situation the girls find themselves in start to unfold. I anticipate that by the eighth day, there will have been some very significant happenings in the world of Senran Kagura, though I shall refrain from conjecture here for fear of inadvertent spoilers.

Estival Versus so far appears to be a very fun game indeed, with a solid single-player mode, some interesting-sounding online multiplayer modes (both cooperative and adversarial) and the now-obligatory Dressing Room feature, which allows you to play dress-up with your favourite girls, pose up to five of them in a diorama and then snap pictures of them from various angles. I’m not sure I’d recommend it to someone as their first Senran Kagura game, since, like Deep Crimson, it’s the midpoint of a series — a series that currently has no end in sight, I should add — and, unlike many other franchises out there, it begins by immediately working on the assumption that you already know who these characters are, how they relate to one another and what they went through together in the previous games. Like Deep Crimson, there are some efforts made to give a bit of context in the early hours of the narrative, but you’ll get far more out of it if you’ve played through the stories of Burst, Shinovi Versus and Deep Crimson beforehand to understand where things are in these girls’ world right now.

Very much looking forward to seeing how things develop — and perhaps jumping into the multiplayer a bit, too. If you have a copy and are playing online, feel free to add my PSN ID Angry_Jedi to your friends list; do please leave a note with your friend request if you know me from here or Twitter, however!

2249: Catching Up on Deep Crimson

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My copy of Senran Kagura Estival Versus arrived the other day. I haven’t booted it up yet, because I realised that I was yet to play through its predecessor, the 3DS-based Senran Kagura 2: Deep Crimson. Since the Senran Kagura series is heavily narrative-based and subsequent installments often make reference to events in their predecessors — even between the “main” series on 3DS and the Versus subseries on Sony platforms — I didn’t want to jump into Estival Versus until I had, at the very least, beaten the main story of Deep Crimson.

I find the contrast between the 3DS and Sony incarnations of Senran Kagura to be quite interesting. The 3DS games, being the “canonical” storylines, for want of a better word, play like modernisations of 2.5D brawlers such as Streets of Rage, while the Sony games unfold with more of a sense of “3D”, feeling more like a blend between Dissidia Final Fantasy and Omega Force’s Warriors/Musou series. I’m torn as to which I prefer, to be honest; I’ve always had a major soft spot for 2.5D brawlers, and, upon firing up Senran Kagura Burst for the first time and discovering it was essentially a new Streets of Rage game, I was delighted. That said, the Versus series seems to be the one that tends to be more well-received, and I like the larger, extended cast that they incorporate.

I don’t have to pick a favourite, do I? No? Then I won’t. I love them all.

All right, Deep Crimson then. I’m coming up on the last missions of the game having blasted through the previous four chapters, and I’ve been really enjoying it so far. One thing that has developed considerably from Burst is the fact that each character feels very different to the others now. A lot of Burst could be got through by mashing the attack button and occasionally avoiding enemy attacks, though naturally you’d get more out of it — particularly in boss fights — if you learned some of the combos and when the characters’ special moves are especially effective. Deep Crimson, meanwhile, roundly punishes button-mashing, since there appears to be some sort of attack priority system going on, where hurling yourself at the front of an enemy while flailing wildly is a sure-fire way to get yourself defeated swiftly. Instead, mixing up light and strong attacks with air attacks, launches and special moves is essential; it feels much more like a “fighting game” than a button-mashing brawler, which is both enjoyable and rewarding. (Not that there’s anything wrong with a button-mashing brawler, of course; I still love me some Streets of Rage.)

Of particular note is the increased emphasis on special moves’ usefulness. I got through a lot of Burst and Shinovi Versus without making heavy use of these impressive, powerful moves, but Deep Crimson makes effective use of them a necessity. In a nice nod to series narrative continuity, all the girls start with their powered-up moves that they learned in the previous games, too, providing three distinct, situational moves to unleash at the appropriate time — and if you’ve wailed on your opponent enough to charge up your ninja scroll meter too, of course. There’s a nice mix between area-effect nukes, frontal cones, charge attacks and some outright bizarre abilities (Hibari’s “now I’m a giant and I’ma stomp on you!” move is particularly peculiar) that means learning how each character plays is essential; you can’t go in hitting buttons randomly and hope for the best, particularly in the tougher fights against stronger individual opponents or duos.

Narrative-wise, Deep Crimson raises the stakes significantly from Burst and even Shinovi Versus. Burst was, up until its final moments, heavily slice-of-life in nature, albeit slice-of-life with shinobi battles. There was a big, ridiculous final boss battle in its final chapter that teased where the series might go in the future, but then it ended. Shinovi Versus, meanwhile, again concentrated on the daily lives and backstories of the characters, but ended with an even bigger tease about the truth behind shinobi in the modern world: their mission to reveal and battle youma, hugely destructive evil creatures who demand blood sacrifices and generally fuck shit up.

After two games of us only ever seeing one youma though — Burst’s final boss Orochi, whom you fight both on the inside and the outside depending on which of the two main narrative paths you follow — I was beginning to wonder if youma were going to be one of those threats that was always mentioned in hushed whispers but never actually seen. I thought it would be disappointing if we didn’t get to fight some big slobbering monsters, though, because although it’s fun to see some shinobi-on-shinobi action, some big slobbering monsters would mix things up nicely.

Deep Crimson is well aware that I probably wasn’t the only person feeling like this, and opens with a retelling of Burst’s final moments, and then only continues to escalate from there. It tells an interesting tale that delves further into the overall series mythology — particularly the role of the high-ranking ninjas and of Kagura, a mysterious young girl who shows up and appears to be destined to fight youma.

The particularly interesting thing about the narrative is how it plays with the concepts of good and evil. This is always something that Senran Kagura has been particularly good at, with the majority of both Burst and Shinovi Versus exploring the nature of what “good” and “evil” shinobi really mean, and how people can find ways to build bridges across the frothing waters of conflicting ideologies. With Deep Crimson, though, the Hanzou girls — canonically the “good guys” — find themselves confronted with an order that they’re not sure is really the right thing to do. Meanwhile, Homura’s Crimson Squad, the former Hebijo Academy students and the characters originally positioned as the “bad guys”, are placed in the position of doing what you’d traditionally expect the heroes of the piece to be doing.

The other thing that’s interesting — and the thing I love the most about Senran Kagura as a whole — is how it juxtaposes the heavy, violent and often philosophical shinobi drama with the breezy silliness of a bunch of teenage girls trying to figure out who they are and what their place in the world is. Every single character in Senran Kagura is a well-defined, interesting person with a unique and worthwhile backstory, and they all get their own time in the limelight. Some characters — Homura is a particularly good example — undergo a huge amount of personal growth and development over the course of the series, and it’s been a real pleasure so far to watch these girls grow up, learn about themselves and their place in shinobi society.

This latter aspect in particular is what makes me so infuriated when people dismiss the series as “just boobs”. There’s some truly remarkable character and plot development going on in this series. Yes, there are big jiggly boobs; yes there are panty shots; yes, combat usually concludes with all the participants stripped down to their undies, but none of this takes away from the well-written, extremely well-characterised drama (and comedy!) that provides the context for the action. It truly is a series deserving of more credit than it gets, and as I close in on the end of Deep Crimson I find myself enormously excited to jump in to Estival Versus, whose core concept promises to tug at the heartstrings particularly strongly. But that’s a story for another day, of course.

“Just boobs” my arse.