Killing All the Things in Mass Effect 2

So with Mass Effect 3 coming out in… *looks at Xbox 360 screen*  T-3 days?  Whatever. Tuesday. I’ve decided to do one last play through of Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2.  I’ve heard through the inter-web-o-sphere grapevine that the Normandy in ME3 will feature a memorial wall for all the people who have died in the trilogy, also the fact that almost everyone you’ve ever teamed up with will be showing up at some point in the game. Well, what happens if those people aren’t there to team up?  Who replaces them?  In every single save game of ME2 I’ve got, I have saved Wrex, I have kept my entire crew alive through the suicide mission, and everything is set for war with the reapers.  But what if you fill up that memorial wall and kill everyone? Well, mostly everyone.  My end goal of this last play through is to leave just enough people alive to ensure that the save imports into Mass Effect 3.  That means killing everyone you can except for 2 crew members.  Easy, right? Wrong.

Oh sure, in the first Mass Effect it’s really easy.  There’s a maximum of two crew members that can be permanently killed off.  The fun comes in finding ways to kill off NPCs as well.  Captain Kirrahe on Virmire?  Yea. Skip all the side missions, and send more guards his way and you can guarantee that the good captain won’t be able to hold the line. The Council? Oh you betcha. The Rachni? Dead as door nails.  The Zhu’s Hope colonists?  Well, let’s just say my Shepard is the Butcher of Torfan AND Feros now.  It makes things so much easier not bothering to save people.  I actually made it through the game, even with a large chunk of the side quests complete, in record time.

Mass Effect 2, on the other hand, is where things get tricky. It does still shorten the game to not have to worry about loyalty missions or having a good paragon or renegade score to settle disputes, but the real task is making sure that you kill the most people and still surviving to the end. The general idea is to have all but two crew members die in the final suicide mission.  That means not rescuing the Normandy crew, and killing off the majority of your team mates. However you MUST have at least two team members survive or else Commander Shepard himself will die and you won’t be able to import the game into Mass Effect 3. Considering the nature of the suicide mission, and how many factors and decisions can lead to death or survival, this requires a careful hand and a lot of planning.  I’ve hunted down charts, checklists, and made countless sticky notes to plot the course of who should die and when.  Thankfully, the internet has provided ample resources of how things like not researching improved armor will affect the final mission, including a list of who will die and in what in what priority.  I can only imagine the research that went into figuring out how each of these events can shakedown.

I haven’t finished the play through yet.  I’m about 3/4ths done at the moment.  But I’ve been getting this weird sort of mix of glee and dread in the fact that I am purposefully doing something so counter intuitive.  This isn’t like the Ironman Challenge where it’s about restricting yourself to increase the challenge.  At least, not that I am aware of yet. That opinion may change once ME3 comes out and I see the results of all of this.  But to actively plot the demise of your own team and to be crossing your fingers to hope that they all perish in the flames of battle is something you don’t do in video games too often.  I know I’m crazy, but there’s crazy and then there’s crazy.  You know what I mean?

So have you ever worked to do something in a game that is the complete antithesis of what you should be doing?

Mourning a Fallen Friend

I was going to write about the SW:TOR slicing nerf. Actually, the post is already done. But I decided to hold off a day or two to post it because A) I wanted the inital net rage to die down a bit and B) I’ve posted a lot of SWTOR related stuff recently.  So today I’m going to tell you about a close friend of mine that recently passed.  She was brave, attentive and helpful.  She was always at my side, until one day she was taken from me.  Her name was Lydia, and she served me when I became the Thane of Whiterun.

Oh what? You thought I wasn’t going for some kind of joke? What blog have you been reading? Honestly, it was indeed a shocking moment in the game.  I didn’t even know that she could die.  Every time she got beaten up she had always simply fallen over and moment after the battle ended, she stood right back up again and ran up to my side, ready to go off on our next adventure.

But lo, did the day come that I faced off against some crazy wizard elf dude in the college at Winterhold.  There was a flash of light and it knocked poor Lydia to the stone floor.  I leaped into the battle with my wizard staff and daedric blade in hand.  Through my mastery of both sorcery and blade, the foul elf was struck down, and I turned to Lydia with a grin. “Get up, time to go!” I exclaimed at my monitor. But Lydia did not move.

I waited.  I waited for five minutes.  I exited the area and returned. Hoping that Lydia would be there as she always had been.  But no, her lifeless and lootable body lay on the stone.  My heart sank.  No, not my character’s.  Mine.  It’s rare that I form bonds with random NPCs in games.  Oh sure, when they’re big characters in a very narrative driven plot I tend to grow fond of some of them.  The companions in SW:TOR, the main characters of Kingdom Hearts, even various cartoon characters are very near and dear to me.  Seems silly, especially from a grown man, but that’s the way it is.  But I don’t think I can ever say that I felt that way in a big sandbox game like the Elder Scrolls or Fallout before. So when Lydia didn’t stand up, I was sad. Honestly sad.  It was weird to feel bad for a lump of polygons and pixels, but I did.  I saved, quit the game, and didn’t play it again for a while after that.

Oh, if I took an arrow to the knee I could just become a guard. But an arrow to the heart? Well, that’s a bit harder to come back from.  This post is for you, Lydia I’m-Not-Sure-If-You-Have-A-Last-Name.

(P.S. If you can’t tell, I’m really enjoying Skyrim.)

Lowered Expectations

Today, I feel like giving advice.  I rarely do this, and people often ignore it or get offended that I am doing it.  This is not some ultimatum, just some random musings culminating in an explanation that reinforces a viewpoint that may or may not cause you to go “Huh.”  You have been warned.

So recently I’ve been spending a lot of time flipping through the Star Wars: The Old Republic forums.  I can see you shaking your head in disheartened disgust.  Regardless of what you may think about the “Bioware Community”, they are indeed just as bad – if not worse in some regards – than the World of Warcraft forums.  While the Bioware forums proper demand nothing short of perfection from every Bioware title (Don’t believe me? Trying going there and complimenting Dragon Age 2.  See what kind of reaction you get), the Old Republic forums are full of bristling debate over simply what kind of game the Old Republic will be and the firestorm that discussion – a term I use lightly to describe the battle of enraging ki that encircles many a thread – leaves in its wake.  Exaggeration? Perhaps.  I find calm, civilized and cheerful discussions quite often on the Warcraft forums but that doesn’t seem to barricade anyone from bursting forth with the idea that the site in its entirety is a den of villains, thrice damned abominations and trolls.

Ultimately, the problem is one of expectations.  Many are gripping on to their title of choice (Old Republic, Guild Wars 2, Mass Effect 3… what have you) and wishing that their every desire will be fulfilled by that one title as if it were some all-powerful djinn with the cheat codes turned on.  Those who wish to herald of the days of yore when games were brutal and only the best of the best would claim the shiniest toy on the mound that they can lord over the unwashed masses will find any quote and smidgen of information to reinforce that this game will be their ideal world.  While those who arm themselves with communist ideals that all should be able to claim the shiniest toy should they desire will do the same.  It’s not just loot either than fuels these festering mosh pits of heated debate.  Everything from game play mechanics to who has the marginally more interesting story line can be fodder.  People expect things to be the way they want them to be, and not the way they don’t want it to be and they’ll will fight with self proclaimed righteousness to convert those with dissenting opinion.

Honestly, it is hilarious from an outsiders point of view.  Will TOR crash and burn for sticking to the Trinity?  Will Guild Wars 2 usher in a renaissance that will wipe the MMO playing field clear so a new world can be forged in its place? Does the Horde really get the best story lines and Blizzard just hates the Alliance with a passion?  I read these thoughts and laugh.  Because I know that the real answer is probably going to land in the middle, and thus begins a new cycle of hatred and bickering over failures and incompetence of the developers to satisfy what each person views as the majority opinion – that just so happens to align with their personal beliefs – of what should have happened.

So what do you do?  Well, I can’t say.  That’s for each to decide for themselves when the time comes.  I can however tell you how I have routinely been able to find pleasure in many a game over the years:  Keep your expectations simple.  If I told you the entirety of my expectations for The Old Republic was to have an interesting story and a neat crafting system, do you think I would find myself disappointed come December?  My only expectation for Brutal Legend was I was expecting to laugh because it’s a Tim Schafer game and that man is hilarious.  I have replayed that game about four times to date and am seriously tempted to do it again.  Actually, probably my first mistake with Cataclysm was expecting something massive.  A whole new Azeroth to explore! Everything is different now!  Yea, no.  Don’t get me wrong, I still have several issues with Cataclysm – ones that if Mists of Pandaria delivers what was proposed should remedy hopefully – but I don’t think I would have crashed and burned to the point of deleting my characters and saying “Screw it all!” a mere month a half in, were I more level headed about what to expect.

The only time everyone will be happy with something is when you only have a small handful of people to deal with, and even then it’s not a guarantee.  Companies like Bioware and Blizzard have to deal with an audience of millions.  How do you do that?  I can barely wrap my head around it, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a million anything.  The only thing that keeps coming back to me when I lie awake, staring at my ceiling, and thinking about all of this is ‘compromise.’  Compromise is how you make the most people happy.  They’re probably not all going to be ecstatic, possibly not even elated, but maybe pleased.  Pleased enough to pay and to keep paying.  The problem with compromise is that those who are hoping on this being the messiah they patiently waited for, that will do everything right in their book, may become bitter and discontent.  They become disgruntled trolls who might see themselves enlightened amongst the drooling mouth breathers who didn’t see the promise of absolute satisfaction and throw their money at it instead of rising up as one and saying “No! Do better!” and thus the cycle begins a new.

So my advice – hidden cryptically through the words of this rant – is to lower your expectations.  Not to the ground, mind you.  You should have some self respect for what you enjoy. But if you’re seeking what you feel is perfection and then condemn something for not living up to your personal demands, you will rarely – if possibly ever – find satisfaction.  Then again, if you are anything like one of my relatives, your disgruntled rage may be the fuel that keeps you going through life. So, uh…  kudos?

Cyrodil: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

It's hard to blend in when you dress like this.

So I’ve recently been replaying my way through Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion because…  well, you know why.  Anyway, I’ve just got around to finishing the main quest lione and something occurred to me.  Everyone in Cyrodil is eerily up to date on current events. I help the secret emperor that no one knows about defeat a daedra lord. Instantly, everybody in the entire country knows about the long-lost heir, his noble sacrifice that only I was present to see, AND know who I am & what I did?  Is everyone here linked up on the WizardNet?  Does the Black Horse Courier have an RSS feed?  How in the Nine do they know what I look like?!  There are no cameras!

Okay, we can figure this out.  Somehow, everyone in the country – even people in the wilderness and in cities that take days to reach – know instantly what I’ve done and who I am.  Clearly this is the work of some powerful wizard or a Daedra lord.  Yes, of course!  The daedra! Being the evil demons that they are would surely wish to hinder me in my escapades to stop them.  But why would they want to do it after I’ve already defeated the big bad and stopped his plan?  Well, the mages guild must have the ability to instantly communicate with each other at a moments notice.  Which is why I have to play messenger boy constantly. Dang it, no!  That’s not it either.

There has to be something I’m overlooking.  Why would everyone know what is going on at the exact same time? It’s like they were computer programs.  Wait!  That’s it.  Hear me out, because I know this is a bit far-fetched.  Maybe Cyrodil doesn’t exist.  Maybe it’s all an elaborate staging for me and only me to experience and go through as some kind of a twisted test to prove my worth.  That even as I get more powerful, the world rises to match my power and everyone’s equipment and lives are designed around me.  Like some kind of twisted fantasy Truman Show.  Only where Jim Carrey has an axe, and continues to be entertaining past the 90 minute mark!  By what twisted being’s desire is this horrific world made real?  Who is pulling the strings behind all this?  What foul divinity would forge such lengthy adventures of skill and repetitive tasks like jumping over and over because how the hell else are you going to level up your acrobatics other than making yourself look like a complete loon that no one notices?!

I’ve seen through their lies and exposed the truth! Knock Knock, Martin Septim – I know what the Oblivion is. I have seen it for myself.  Another Matrix joke here.  Oh yes, you’re not fooling me!  The world must know! THE WORLD MU%#**$@$&(*DW@$J*S*!

<UPLOAD LINK SEVERED>

<CONNECTION REESTABLISHED>

Oblivion is a fun game. You should play it.  Just repeat to yourself that it is just a game and that you really should just relax.

Remembering to Play the Part

One of the first things a role player will try to beat into your brain is to always separate player knowledge and character knowledge.  It’s one of the most basic tenets of role playing.  Just because you know Ner’zhul became the original Lich King, doesn’t mean Sir Awesomeman the Paladin of Stormwind would.

The other night at my weekly D&D game, I came across a variation of the idea that honestly never occurred to me before. The separation of player motivation and character motivation.  Our party was trying to get into a ‘restricted area’ to speak to an important official in this Church of Pelor that we were sorta-kinda working for.  The high guard decided to cut us off, checked our ‘guest passes’ and declared us “Not supposed to be here.”  She was quite snooty about it too.

Now, as the rest of our gaming group was quick to point out, this woman was a high guard in the organization employing us.  Killing her would be bad, so we should all use non-lethal methods to subdue her.  The group knew this. I knew this.  But did my character?

Well, let’s think about it.  My character – Scythe – is a revenant (if you’re not familiar with the D&D race, think ‘The Crow’. Not the elemental revenants in Northrend) that was raised by the Raven Queen to hunt down and claim souls for her so he can earn his freedom.  He’s a soul-harvesting bounty hunter for the Goddess of Death – I think it is safe to assume he doesn’t do non-lethal.

I went all out on her.  Brought my A-game.  Some solid hits, a little combat advantage, and one brutal critical hit later and she was lying on the floor covered in her own blood, muttering her final words to her god.  Scythe walks over to her and grins, “Pelor has no power where you’re going.” He pulled out his talisman and sent her soul to the Shadowfell to meet his mistress.

I had  knowingly killed what should have been an ally to our cause.  A high guard that served directly underneath the Church’s council. Why?  Because my character had a different motivation.  His freedom was more important than sparing some pain-in-the-butt guard that decided to pull a sword on us because our hall pass was invalid.

I think it’s safe to say that no one else in my group agreed with my actions.  This was a stupid decision that is surely going to cause a lot of issues for our characters in the near future.  As we ended the session for the night I smiled and looked at our Dungeon Master and said, “That was a mistake wasn’t it?”

He smiled back and said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget: “Wil Wheaton knew not to split the party.  Aeofel didn’t.”

I can not wait for our next game.

Designing My Perfect MMO

While tempting, I think I'm going to pass on this idea.

Here’s a thought exercise.  Given an unlimited budget and no concerns about customers/deadlines/etc, what would you do to make your perfect MMO?  Kind of a fun thought right? Ultimate wish-fulfillment.  But the underlining psychological effect of giving you an idea of exactly what game would work for you. After all, you will ultimately judge every game you play compared to your imaginary perfect game.  You shouldn’t though.  I’m always think that you should judge something purely on how well you enjoyed it, and not how much it matched up to how much you think it should be.  Granted, sometimes those things overlap.  Other times it will get you kicked out of film school.  Just ask Lil’ Vrykerion who ended up with a degree in Creative Writing and NOT film.

But on with this grand experiment!  Which should prove to be quite the experience, because I have a habit of trying to bite off more than I can chew (That is in both a metaphorical and literal sense.  Steak night is a horror show at my house.)  Where to begin though? I could start by writing a 10,000 word breakdown on the history of the world and how it got to be this way, but while I am sure that there are many of you who would probably really enjoy that it doesn’t really bring us any closer to our goal.  So how about we start like this-

Imagine There Are No Classes

It’s actually pretty easy if you try.  Essentially my idea is that the world is composed of nations. Let’s say five nations.  Each nation has its own ideas and traditions.  Maybe one is more technological, another is more magical, one is a savage land where only the strongest survive, etc. Essentially, at the beginning of character creation you pick which nation you want to be from and represent in the game world.  Then you design how you want that character to appear. I imagine there would probably be some conventions to go along with each nation.  People from this place would have tan skin and red eyes (and hate Alchemy?) or these people would have the option to have blue or green hair. Stuff like that.

After character creation, you finally enter the game world and get treated to a short chain of quests that introduce you to the game.  Give you a feel for the mechanics, and of your nation and the issues facing it in the world.  After this quest you are given your very first talent point.  Now this is where it gets fun because since there are no classes (just ‘races’ for all intensive purposes) each nation has three talent trees. One for tanking, one for damage, and one for healing. Yes, my ideal MMO would stick to the trinity.  Yea, there are people who would give me flak for it, but I can’t even imagine how to break it or how it would function without it. So I’ll leave such ideas to those who can grasp those concepts.

The talent trees would be divided up into 3 distinct parts.  First there is the first, middle and last tiers of abilities.  Each of these would have a choice of one of three abilities that are iconic to both your role and your nation.  Essentially, there would be 2-3 choices of abilities in these tiers that would affect how you play your class. Maybe one focuses on two weapon fighting and one focuses on big 2-handed weapons, or something like that.  The other two areas are your Upper and Lower tiers of talents.  The lower tiers are between the first and middle ability tier, and mostly have pretty broad improvements in your role.  More critical damage, quicker attacks, etc.  The upper tiers have talents that are especially designed to augment that specific role.  This ability gains this additional property and what not.

The reason for the Upper and Lower tiers being that way is that when you reach the Middle Ability Tier, you are given a choice.  You can continue down your path and maximize that role to its full power and access the top ability tier, or you can multiclass and gain the first and middle abilities tiers and lower enhancement tier of a second ‘class’.  So you could add a bit of utility and self-healing to your tank by multiclassing as healer.  Lack the survivability of a full tank, but maybe you can solo tougher challenges with the heals.  Are you confused yet? Don’t worry, this is probably the most confusing part.  Besides, you don’t really care about how I’d handle the classes, you’re wondering what I’d do different with-

The World and the Stuff to Do In It

Oh yea. I rocked that segue.  The big thing I would do with a big open world is the story.  The idea is every 12 months is one big storyline for the world, broken in four phases (3 months each.)  Each storyline would have quests, dungeons, objectives and a ton of stuff related to it on top of the already existing tons of ‘general’ quests to do.  You represent and serve your nation through the storyline and attempt to bring glory or sometimes save your people.  This can be diving into caves and ruins and looking for new and powerful artifacts, gathering supplies, or sabotaging the competition.  Throughout the year, the storyline would go from phase to phase, and the world would evolve because of it.

Leveling would mostly consist of either doing quests that are related to the overall story line, or smaller story lines throughout the five nations.  Oh yes. No hostile ground to be found, but a member of nation A would probably be engaging in different types of quests while in Nation C than the actual members of Nation C.  This creates a big world where you can go where you want and participate in the kind of stories you want to play through.  Espionage and spying?  Let’s go to another nation and see what they’re up to!  Help build the military?  Let’s see what can be done here at home.  Claim forbidden lands and forgotten secrets for your country?  Let’s head into the unclaimed neutral territories and see what treasures can be found!  But once you hit max level, you can join the overall story line in a much bigger way.  Getting into quests that directly tie in and wandering into dungeons to square off against enemies or find powerful relics.

Now, I know what you’re saying.  Isn’t that unfair to people who start later?  Wouldn’t they have to catch up?  How could they catch up to their current tier of dungeons if they weren’t there for the beginning of the story lines dungeons?!  Whoa whoa WHOA! Calm down.  The dungeons aren’t tiered.  In fact, things like item levels and tier sets wouldn’t exist at all.  Lemme tell you about my ideas on-

Alternate Gear and Rewards

Dang. I’m getting downright snappy at those.  Anyway, unlike a certain MMO that I currently play, my idea for gear would be that it has no bonus to stats.  Or at least anything with bonus to stats would be very rare.  Instead gear has 2 factors to it: 1) Appearance.  Unique and awesome looking gear.  2) Properties.  Things like chance on hit procs, extra fire damage on hit, or even cosmetic things to your character for equipping it.  Imagine collecting a white armor set that once you equip all the pieces, angel wings appear on your back.  Pretty cool huh?   This 2 factors can sometimes tie into the story lines, or your nation.  Better properties are rarer, or require massive crafting projects.

Yea, no dream MMO of mine would exist without a solid crafting system. With the story lines changing and evolving, there would always be room for more stuff to be added.  Start the game after a certain story line was over but really liked the look or property of some items from it?  Maybe they can be recreated by tracking down someone who has crafting recipes from that time.  Of course, crafting would tie into the ‘alternate rewards’ quite a bit.

See, some people will never see the merit in player housing.  If only you and your friends can go in it, what is the point?  Imagine your own personal trophy hall.  Prizes from your conquests, rare furniture, and amazing artifacts fill the room.  You can just walk in and say, “This is what I’ve accomplished.” Between player housing trophies & decorations, an appearance tab of some kind and maybe some titles, there’s a ton of cool things you can give players as rewards!  Once again, with the evolving and progressing story lines in the world, having something on your wall that isn’t accessible anymore is awesome.  Doubly so if they fought in some epic event to get it.  Remember the Haunted Memento is WoW?  I held tightly on to that thing until I deleted all my characters back in January.  It was a prized possession of mine and one of many rare treasures that I had horded over the years.  Imagine if that wasn’t just an afterthought?  I would be in heaven!

Players Brutally Beating Down Other Players

…What?  Not everything has to be a perfect transition, you know.  Anyway, PvP would not be as prevalent as it is in games like WoW.  The nations, while competing with each other, are not engaged in open war.  There’s no two factions vying for control of the globe.  There are several nations who want the leg up on the others, and don’t want to do so by destroying their resources and people in open conflict.  However, PvP would exist in my dream MMO.  Mostly in the form of events.  Say for instance, one nation is using an armored caravan to transport goods back home, and the others are attempting to seize it in vehicles of their own.  If the armored caravan is protected using its on board weapons, the nation transporting it gets a bonus until the next transport.  If the other nations stop it and seize the caravan, they other four nations get a smaller bonus and the transporting nation gets nothing.  Not to mention there could be PvE elements of stocking up and gathering supplies to better defend the caravan or boost the attacking nations weaponry and speed in the assault.

Maybe a full on death match arena as well.  I dunno.  I’m not a huge PvP guy so the ideas aren’t nearly as formed there to be honest.  Still think competitions between nations would help.  Though my dream MMO would definitely be more PvE focused.  Hey, what can I say, it’s my dream MMO.  Your dream MMO can have all the PvP it wants.  Dream MMO.  You know it starts to sound silly if you say it too much.

So there you have it. My lovely little thought experiment on how I would design my own MMO given no constraints.  What would you do differently?  It’s kind of fun to think about. You also now know exactly what I like and dislike in my games!  So if you think I might like something, feel free to suggest it, I love to try new things out.  Except Rift. My computer can’t run it.  I’m hoping to have a new one by the time The Old Republic comes out.

Photo Fun: Hipster Cultists

There’s a bit of a running joke in our D&D group.  See in 4th Edition, The Chained God Tharizdun, is kind of portrayed as the long lost evil deity whose name has been lost to the ages because he was imprisoned at the dawn of time.  His true name is rarely if ever spoken, and most don’t even know he exists.  However, he is described as having “a few scattered cults of demented followers”.  Needless to say, while we were all shooting the breeze about stuff like the Dawn War, the difference between Devils and Demons, and various other lore related topics during a game a few weeks back, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing when the following image popped into my head.  It was too perfect. Why didn’t see it before?

Link: Nintendo’s Biggest Jerk?

Alright, confession time folks.  I never finished Twilight Princess.  *dodges thrown vegetables and a shoe* I know, I know.  To be fair, it wasn’t because it was a bad game or anything.  In fact, I rather enjoyed it gameplay wise.  The story wasn’t bad either.  I really liked Midna.  Still, there was something.  Something that drove me nuts every time I played that game.  For the longest time I couldn’t put my finger on it, but then one day it came to me.  I hate Link.

Oh yes, Link.  The legendary fantasy hero of the Nintendo that has defended the land of Hyrule for like 20 years now.  Why do I hate him?  Does it have anything to do with my burning hate of generic faceless and voiceless protagonists like Gordon Freeman (who only taunts you with it by somehow managing to get every female he comes in contact with to develop amorous feelings toward him without saying a single bloody word!  Despite the fact that he is obviously out of shape.  Go ahead. Look down in Half Life.  Fat old Freeman can’t even see his toes.)  No, it wasn’t that.  Because this problem is centralized only on Twilight Princess.  So what is it that this mute fairy boy have in that game that he doesn’t in any other Zelda game?

Well how about a complete lack of any and all emotion?! Annoying little brat doesn’t show the slightest bit of empathy for the majority of the game.  In fact he has three emotions: Default Link (Grimace), Happy Link (slightly upturned scowl), and Surprised Link (Open mouth gaping grimace).  That’s the entire emotional range of this kid.  Heck, he shows more emotion in his wolf form than his human form.  This is what I couldn’t stand in Twilight Princess more than anything!  Even in the worse of circumstances, our “Hero” comes off as a unemotional sadist like so:

It’s that stupid face that drove me from this game!  That moronic vacant stare that is present in almost every cut scene in the game, regardless of the context in which that scene takes place.  I know that they never want to give Link a voice because that would clash with everyone’s perception of how Link thinks and speaks (Which is NOT a bad idea, considering the utterly painful experience that was Metroid: Other M) but would it kill you to give the kid some personality?  Hannibal Lecter showed more empathy for people than this twerp.

I suppose it could be worse though.  This is a basic summary of Link’s epic journey on my sister’s play-through of the game:

Yeesh.

Offroading in Albion (or How I Learned to Love Fable)

"I find your lack of humility disturbing, Peter."

When you think of infamous liars in history a few notable examples come to mind: Chicken Little, The Boy Who Cried Wolf, Richard Nixon, Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, actually most politicians – but there’s one name that gets uttered in gaming circles with such utter contempt and cold cutting bitterness that only begins to hint at the deep and tramautizing scars that penetrate our broken gamer hearts: PETER @#$%ING MOLYNEUX. When the British coined the term “wanker” I can only assume it’s inspiration was to epitomize Molyneux’s callous soul.  People are so cynical when it comes to Peter’s sugar coated monstrosities that he calls ‘words’ that every time he is interviewed on a gaming site like 1up or Kotaku, the comment thread is spontaneously populated with pixelated cries of ‘Liar!’

And yet oddly enough, this man who has not once delivered on his boasts in full, is responsible for a number of games that I absolutely adore.  Black & White was one of the first games I owned for OS X, I spent hours attempting to train my demented God Monkey to pluck devout worshippers from the village and sacrifice them on a mighty blood altar to me (I was in high school and had no friends, I needed to get self esteem from somewhere.)  In college, I finally purchased an used original Xbox (a whole week and a half before the 360 launch), and after quickly growing bored with the cultural phenomenon known as the Halo series, I stumbled upon another one of Molyneux’s extremely truncated visions: Fable.

I got to play Fable without knowing the name or the reputation of ‘Peter Molyneux.’  I wouldn’t learn until later that he was responsible for Fable, Black & White and Populous (a game I rented once for the SNES, never figured out how to play, and quickly regretted spending my hard earned once-a-month rental on.) In other words, I was not familiar with how far the game had fallen from the proposed proverbial tree.  I didn’t know that there were once machinations of gangs seizing abandoned territories or flourishing villages in areas you claimed from the hands of evil and I had never heard claims of every choice having a consequence.  I simply found a fun adventure game that had some twists to it.  It was essentially a slightly varied take on the Zelda formula in my eyes and I ate it up.  Gathering armor, beating up bad guys, completing quests, and learning to woo a noble woman for the sole purpose of jacking a sword from her bedroom (Morals mean nothing when there are Legendary weapons to be had!) Overall the game was fun.  Pure fun.  But at the time it was beaten and bruised by gamers who had been promised some Valhalla of a sandbox by Molyneux.  People disliked the game so much that they verged on spitting whenever an utterance of its name was heard.  That is, until Fable 2 came out.

If you’re familiar with the concept of TV Tropes, you might have stumbled upon this one a few times: “They changed it, now it sucks.”  But how can it suck more than the original that no one apparently liked?  Well, now people LOVE the first one but only in comparison to the second one.  I’m exaggerating some here naturally, there were plenty of fans of Fable 1 that didn’t like Fable 2, there were probably people who didn’t like Fable 1 and LOVED Fable 2, but a cursory glance across the forums would not deliver the message of these people – Fable 1 was amazing now, and Fable 2 destroyed all those dreams that Molyneux, being Molyneux, had foolishly promised once more.  The story was short and ended badly, the mechanics are too streamlined, there’s not enough freedom, the emotion wheel is annoying, etc. etc.  Heck, this time my voice rang with some of them.  See this time I was subject the to Peter Molyneux gilded tongue of many sorrows, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit cheated as I fired a single shot of my revolver and saw the final “boss” plummet.  I mean, yea, I enjoyed it. But it wasn’t what was promised.

Two mediocre DLC offerings later, news begins to trickle in about Fable 3.  Oh, you become king this time.  Oh, your decisions can shape the very face of Albion.  Oh, you can pass judgement or interact directly with people’s lives!  Oh! A context sensitive ‘touch’ system will allow you to take someone to safety and then allow you to either scold them or reassure them!  OH! This is all so very, very simplified in the actual game.  Yea, everything Peter promised made it in, in some grotesque Nick Jr. simplified form.  The much toted context sensitive touch system become “hold their hand.”  The UI became what some would call an ‘overly simplified’ version of Fable 2′s.  Then the cries of the internet formed as one cohesive amalgam, opened its vast toothless maw and shouted “Fable 2 was amazing and Fable 3 sucks!”

This is where I became jaded.  Not with Peter Molyneux, but with the internet.  So I sat down on my Xbox, popped in the Fable Trilogy once more and did the unthinkable – I learned to love all three.  I think the epiphany came in the form of noticing something about the games I had never given much thought to – the title. The name “Fable” became a moment of deep contemplation.  There was more behind that one word than some other games I had played.  ”Mass Effect” and “Dragon Age” represent times and events in the narrative’s history, and don’t actually hold a lot of meaning in the actual games story – other than defining something that may have set all these things in motion.  Fable on the other hand, gave the games context.  Each game actually was a fable.  The narrative is told in a way that you could actually see being distilled into a bed time story for the youth of Albion.  Of heroes and villains in the long ago, who fought and did battle, and saved the land!  That was how it went into playing the games this time.  Not thinking about Molyneux’s promised vs. product delivered, not thinking about the game I personally would have made, but just the game for what it is – a game that embodies the sense of Robin Hood or a Grimm Fairy Tale.

Try telling me that if you saw this picture in a children's book you wouldn't buy it.

Oddly enough, the games became very fun at that point.  I stopped worrying about bosses, and min/maxing my characters. I explored and got lost in the world, the little details here or there, and of course, the story itself.  You didn’t need an epic boss fight at the end of Fable 2 – the trials were in reaching that point.  The loss of friends, the gathering of new ones, and all the sacrifices you made to get there.  Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz didn’t have an epic battle with the Wicked Witch of the West – her trial was in gathering the courage to get there, the brains to figure out to solve the obstacles before her, and the heart to help others instead of simply judging them.  What exactly you learned along that road is more so up to you: Vengeance? Redemption? Friends over power?  That sometimes you need to use people for the betterment of all?  There are a lot of things that can be taken away from Fable 2 depending on how you played through that game.  But in the end, the big baddy is nothing but the Wicked Witch.  A splash of water in the form of a bullet to the head (or the crotch if your a vindictive little punk like me) and you have fulfilled your destiny.  That’s right. Destiny.  This whole thing was set in stone by the wheels of fate the moment you survived the prologue, and foretold far before that.  For all your choices, for all your actions, this much was true: You were going to kill the villain.

Fable 3 was a very different kind of story, but it was a story.  It reminded me a bit of the Man in the Iron Mask actually.  The brother of the King is whisked away in the middle of the night to ultimately lead a rebellion and take his brothers place as the new king.  The twist is then you find out WHY your brother was so cruel and merciless, and what will you do now that you have inherited that burden?  Will you be just as cruel and break the promises made in order to serve the greater good?  Will you strive and work to pull of a miracle to keep your promises and save the kingdom?  If this were an actual bed time story, I can assure you that I would have the covers drawn tight around me, eyes wide to see if the young hero now king would be able to save his people!  Would he be cruel and this becomes a parable?  Would be amass the power and wealth to make that miracle true and the story ends a heroic tale?  Well, that parts up to us now isn’t it?  That’s the fun.  Not the boss fights, not the “touch system”, and not which weapons does 3 points of more damage during while in direct sunlight.

I may very well be completely alone on this one, but in the end with a simple change of perspective I went from agonizing over the smallest details and nit picking with “I would have done this” or “They should have done this” to simply sitting down and having fun with a game on its terms and its story (Also, Fable 3 has Simon Pegg. SIMON. PEGG.)  Just thought I’d share that little bit of a revelation with you all – and I’ve just gotten started.  Heck, I might just have to bust out the old video camera and do some retrospectives on some of the old games on my shelf.  If anything, I can deliver a mean rant on the Metal Gear Solid tetralogy.

What Doesn't Kill Ya: My D&D Injury System

Recently I had a new Dungeons & Dragons 4e campaign start, my first in over 6 months that I was DMing and the first time I had DMed a game since actually getting to sit on the player side of the screen.  Needless to say it made a big difference.  One thing I really wanted to do was patch up some of the holes that my last campaign had as well as some that observed in my gaming experiences.

A big one was going unconscious mid-battle should be a bigger deal than “Oh, I have to start making Death Saves”  So I got to searching for a good way to raise the stakes.  That’s when I stumbled upon this article on RoleplayingTips.com.  It describes a system in which a player sustains an injury when they get knocked out in battle, mostly taken from Dragon Age.   This was my starting point for coming up with my system and it doesn’t change too much from this except for a few minor things.

First of all, I’m not a big fan of unnecesary book keeping and taking a straight minus to an ability score creates just that.  Every skill associated with that ability score gets temporarily changed, the attacks and damage have to be altered, and if you want to be really mean it can alter your hit point total and number of healing surges as well.  Ultimately it just sounded like a big hassle and I wanted to really make it easy.  So I built a system around taking a loss that get tacked on to the end of roll instead of the beginning and having to rework a lot because of it.

My second change was I shortened up the list, but doubled up the results.  Essentially the list got halved and each injury gives minuses to two things.  Some are worse injuries to have than others to be sure, and to get some reprieve I inserted a chance that you would not receive an injury at all.  Also, a player can only suffer a maximum of three injuries at a time. I ended up with this chart:

Roll 1d6.
1	Injured Arm	-1 to Attack and Damage Rolls
2	Injured Leg	-1 to Speed and Initiative Rolls
3	Sore Skull	-1 to Perception and Saving Throws
4	Bruised Rib	Gain Vulnerable 2 to all damage
5	Stomach Wound	Healing Surge Value is Reduced by 1/4
6	No Injury Sustained

Granted, that’s just for the Heroic tier.  I haven’t decided if it will scale in the other tiers of play but I have a good while to decide that.  The next task was to figure out how they can cure their injuries.  The easiest answer was that the next time they are in a non-hostile town (I call them Points of Civilization, which I explain to my players as “Somewhere that has a warm bed, a fluffy pillow, and they aren’t trying to kill you.”) however I wanted to get them a quicker solution.  So I came up with two ways to cure the injury: Rest at a point of civilization or make a Hard DC heal check.

The Hard DC heal check was in hopes that only someone trained in healing would be able to fix the injuries, but even those who aren’t can stand a chance.  The downside to the immediate gratification of healing it through a check is that there is a chance to flub it and make it worse.  A failed check will complicate the injury and make it worse, causing the effects to double (or in the case of a ‘Complicated Bruised Rib’ Vulnerable 5 instead of 2) and a complicated injury can ONLY be healed a point of a civilization.  Still not a complete show stopper, but it does give it a bit of gamble.

So that’s my current system that I’m using to handle injuries when they go unconscious.  It’s a quick and easy system that gives players a few options and still encourages them to not shrug off going unconscious.  Thanks for reading!