Too Close for Comfort

"The Invincible" was originally a novella by science fiction author Stanisław Lem, but has since been adapted into a comic and video game.  It is also the name of the titular starship which plays a notable part in the story.  Unlike the comic, which is more-or-less a direct retelling events in the original story, the video game acts as a prequel of sorts.  In theory, this sounds like a great idea.  It gives the developers, Starward Industries, an opportunity to expand on the setting and characters.  Sadly, the game sticks a bit too close to the source material.

Stanisław Lem's writings have a deliberately incomplete quality to them that is a significant part of his appeal.  His stories tend to emphasis the unknowable in that encounters with extraterrestrial life end up in either a complete inability to communicate or (perhaps worse still) miscommunications that lead to disaster.  It's a theme that pops up in some of his other most famous works, such as "Fiasco" and "Solaris".  "The Invincible" is no exception, and exhibits this almost trademark aspect to his style.  The problem I have with it is there isn't a strong narrative arch.  Practically by necessity, the story must end in a dissatisfactory way.  However, this doesn't mean that there can't be some kind of payoff at the end.  The ending of "The Invincible" novella feature one of the POV characters volunteering to recover the bodies of dead crewmates who fell in the field.  It's somewhat of a harrowing final chapter that could have had a uplifting twist.  Perhaps one of the crew thought to be dead is actually still alive and in need of rescue?  I'm not an editor for a science fiction magazine, so I can't say for certain how the story could have been improved, but I definitely feels like it's missing a certain special something that would make it stick with the reader...and for better or worse (probably the latter) the game sticks with Stanisław Lem's signature way of drawing to a close.

There are actually three possible endings to the game.  None of them are particularly compelling.  They don't really expand on the lore, nor do they give us much more in the way of insight into characters featured in the novel itself.  Mostly, the story of The Invincible is a retelling of what people who have read the original story already know.  This lack of ambition also extends to the gameplay, which is very much of the walking simulator variety.  That's not to say I dislike the genre, it just feels like a missed opportunity in terms of all the different ways players could have experienced exploring the exoplanet Regis III.  It's all a bit baffling considering how much time was spent on development.  What were they spending all their time working on?  Was there a lot of cut content?  Maybe the team at Starward Industries held the author in too high esteem?...so much so they were unwilling to stray too far or build too high up from the foundation?  It's hard to say...regardless, The Invincible is kind of bland outside of its retro-future visual aesthetic.  Also, why the heck is there no way to play this game with characters speaking in Polish?  

A Novel Experience

ELIZA is the name of a natural language processing computer program designed in the 1960s.  It was pretty limited in what it could do, and by modern standards it would be considered little more than a "chatbot".  Even so, the program drew out a surprisingly strong emotional response in some people at the time such that they would confide personal thoughts and feelings to it.  That feature of the program is what partially inspired the indie visual novel Eliza.  

Despite sharing the same name, the fictional "Eliza" program in the game is a far more advanced AI-driven piece of software.  Set in Seattle, Eliza is being commercialized as a more affordable alternative to a professional therapist.  I'm sure some people will already be picking up on the dystopian themes here.  It's certainly true that the visual novel parallels Ursula K. LeGuin's "Lathe of Heaven" or even a William Gibson novel (particularly something out of his Blue Ant trilogy) in places.  The protagonist of Eliza is a thirty-something half Japanese, half British woman named Evelyn.  She was (before the start of the game) one of several coders who developed the Eliza program, but dropped out about three years ago due to the untimely death of a colleague.  For reasons not elaborated on until the end of the game, Evelyn has decided to return from her self-imposed exile and start working for an Eliza clinic as a "proxy".  What is a proxy?  Well, they're basically pseudo-therapists in that they simply parrot whatever Eliza prompts them to say in order to create the calming illusion of human interaction.  It's actually the game's fundamental premise (and is an interesting one), but also makes the early parts of the game painfully linear.  

From here, Eliza dives into its cast of characters.  Some are Evelyn's former co-workers while others are her patients.  Generally speaking, this is where the game really shines.  The characters are well written and have very relatable problems, fears and desires.  It's hard not to empathize with most of them on some level.  I was also very glad to see how the game portrays people with mental health problems.  Based on my own (somewhat limited) experience in the field, the origin of things like depression and anxiety can come from either social troubles or biological ones.  The thing is these two are like each side of the same coin.  Which one of them starts the problem isn't all that important because this cruel duo will work hand in hand to drive a person down into a cycle of misery with unsettling synergy.  Some people are able to climb back to some form of normalcy, but others find themselves trapped and unable to find a way out of their horrible circumstances.  Of course, this is where a good therapist can help...sadly, the Eliza program really isn't up to the task.  That's not to say it's useless...its just that over the course of the game its limitations really start to show.

Speaking of limitations, I often find that my enjoyment of visual novels depends heavily on whether or not my decisions matter.  In the case of Eliza, there aren't a whole lot to make until the very end.  The game really emphasizes the "novel" part of visual novel, though to be fair the visuals are quite good too.  Characters are extremely well drawn, and there's a consistency to it all that these kind of games sometimes lack.  Sound effects are almost non-existent, but the music does a decent job of setting the mood.  I picked up Eliza as part of the "Steam Visual Novel Fest" and as such am quite happy with it considering the amount I paid for it.  At it's suggested retail price though, I would have been underwhelmed.  Regardless, it's a thought-provoking game and definitely one that offers a wide range of perspectives on AI and mental health.  So, if that's the sort of thing you're interested in, by all means give Eliza a try.

16-bit Mazes and Monsters

Oddly enough the Japanese name of the game is
"Shining and the Darkness"

Before Shining Force there was Shining in the Darkness - a dungeon crawler in the traditional sense.  By that I mean no automapping, random encounters galore, and a fair amount of grinding.  It's not a bad game, but playing it has reminded me of why I like the SRPG spin-offs that followed a lot better.  You see...every battle in the Shining Force series is a set piece encounter.  This originator of the franchise has room for a small amount of tactical thinking, but for the most part it's about navigating a multi-level maze filled with hazards in the form of monsters and traps.  There's treasure to be had too, although much of it is of little importance.  The goal of the game (as laid out in the opening) is to rescue the princess Jessa who has been kidnapped by the sorcerer "Dark Sol".  It's about as generic a plot as you can get.  Even so, it's presented well.  

The art style for the early entries in the the Shining IP are distinct in that they subtly blend 1980s Disney with a bit of an anime aesthetic.  In terms of setting it's more Narnia than Middle-earth when it comes to demi-humans.  To this day, I must admit centaur knights (complete with armor and lance) look pretty dang cool and are something you don't see a whole lot of in fantasy settings these days.  Unlike some dungeon crawlers, players only go it alone during the early stages of the game.  After defeating a giant crab (and mini-boss of sorts) the hero of the story gains two companions (Milo and Pyra) who can help him on his quest.  At first glance this team of three seems like a fairly standard warrior-healer-mage combo, but in truth the lines between them are a bit blurrier than say...Dungeons and Dragons.  While it's true that the meat-shield warrior protagonist never gains the innate ability to casts spells, his pious looking companion (Milo) hits pretty hard and has magic that overlaps a bit with Pyra the mage.  Meanwhile, she can deal out decent damage while still having a repertoire of AoE and utility spells.  She's also the fastest of the three when it comes to turn order.  Monsters vary quite a bit - ranging from the simple (bats, wasps, slimes, and slugs) to the standard (goblins, ape-men, skeletons, and minotaurs); all the way up to slightly weird foes like ax-beaked ostriches and "clodhoppers" (hat-wearing puppet-like enemies that consist of a head with a pair of legs sprouting from underneath).

The variety is much appreciated, but it isn't enough hold my interest.  As far as old-school dungeon crawlers go, Shining in the Darkness is very well made example of its genre.  It's just not the kind of game I can really get into.  Still, there are plenty of worse ways to spend your time, and if you are the kind of person that enjoys titles like the Bard's Tale Trilogy or the original Wizardry then this Sega classic might be right up your alley...or maybe I should say up you subterranean corridor?  Actually, never mind...that sounds kind of gross.           

RE4R

El Residente Malvado 4!

If you were to ask me what my favorite genre is I'd probably say survival horror, but recently I've been feeling less confident about that.  Signalis, Callisto Protocol and to a lesser extent even the Dead Space remake all failed to garner my interest.  Thankfully, the remake of Resident Evil 4 has reinvigorated my fondness for these kinds of games and reminded me of why I like them.

Specifically, the thing that always draws me into the survival horror subgenre is the need to harbor resources while still trying to complete objectives.  In the RE4 remake, that aspect of game design is in full effect.  Even the most basic weapon at the player's disposal, the knife, has a finite amount of times it can be used before it breaks.  Everything requires resources whether it be ammo for guns, herbs for health, or pesetas for repairs and upgrades.  Carefully stockpiling those items for when they are needed most is very much front-and-center here.  Having stated that, the gameplay isn't all that different from the original.  

Some noteworthy changes have been made to level layouts and, by extension, encounters.  In particular, there are some fun side missions that the player can engage in at their discretion.  Enemy types are largely unchanged.  Boss encounters, on the other hand, have been improved significantly.  A few things have been cut, such as the gondola ride, one minor out-of-left-field mini-boss battle, and the QTEs.  Overall, the changes represent welcome improvements over the original, but where the remake really shines is in terms of story.

While seen here as a mod for the RE2 remake, I kind of like Ada's tactical outfit
 more than the iconic red dresses she is known for wearing

Pretty much all the characters in the RE4 remake are fleshed out in greater detail by giving them more of and arc or backstory.  In particular, Luis and Krauser are much better in this new interpretation of the "Las Plagas" incident.  Sadly, one character is only marginally better.  While it's certainly a good call to have an Asian voice actress playing the role of Ada Wong this time around, the performance just feels off to me. Maybe I'm wrong here, but I always saw Ada as one of those classic "femme fatale" characters from pulp action stories and spy thrillers.  The problem is that archetype feels kind of antiquated now days.  I'm just guessing here, but the writers on the RE4 remake might not have known what to do with her in terms of updating the character which could have been the reason why we ended up with a somewhat lackluster performance.

How the heck did that wrench ended up in there?

Generally speaking, the moment-to-moment gameplay is extremely polished thanks to some well refined mechanics.  Which difficulty setting to choose when first starting the game though is a bit harder to pin down.  Just to illustrate my point, the first boss battle of the game ("Del Lago") is actually the most fun to fight on hardcore mode, but overall the balancing for the RE4 remake is kind of weird. Standard mode is pretty brutal unless your bringing upgraded gear from a previous playthrough.  Even then, I think some enemy types are a bit too hyperactive at times. It's pretty dang hard to line up the precise thermal scope shots required to take down "Regeneradores" on anything other than the easiest difficulty setting because they're so squirmy...at least if you are using a controller (and I say that as someone who got "S" ranks on all the shooting range challenges). Enemies, in general, are so aggressive and bullet resistant on Hardcore and up it's actually a better strategy to not use the environment much.  Just take a quick potshot at one foe before making a hasty retreat.  Then let the lot of them pile into a prearranged killing zone wherein you can chew your pursuers up all at once using shotgun blasts, piercing firearm shots and a liberal amount of explosives.  Hence, one could say easier settings allow the player to utilize the combat arenas in fun ways while harder settings force the player to rely on duller, but safer strategies.  Additionally, once you get the rocket launcher nimble but weak enemies (like infected dogs and oversized bugs) become the hardest to deal with in the game.  Meanwhile, big monsters and bosses are a complete cakewalk.  Granted, a lot of what I just pointed out might be intentionally designed that way for reasons I fail to fully understand.

I think a good way to wrap up this mini-review is with the question "what's next?"  I'm not talking about DLC for the remake of RE4, but rather which game the team is going to tackle next.  Resident Evil 5 would be the natural progression while Resident Evil: Code Veronica is the next biggest old game in the franchise that would benefit the most from the remake treatment.  The thing is though both of those games were conceptually not very good and as such might not be worth the effort.  Personally, I prefer the third-person perspective Resident Evil games over the first-person ones, so I hope that Capcom keeps making new games along the lines of the RE2, RE3 and RE4 remakes.  Maybe it's time for an original story?  Who knows...only time will tell.    

Welcome Aboard Commander

Carrier Command 2 is not only a sequel to the 1988 original, but a return to form after the failed 2012 soft reboot Carrier Command: Gaea Mission.  Nowhere is this more apparent than the visuals.  Gaea Mission attempted to go with a semi-realistic near-future look while the direct sequel is a mix of voxel shapes and pixel textures that feel like a natural evolution of the original game.  

At heart, the Carrier Command series is a RTS/FPS hybrid.  The games create a simulacrum of actual carrier operations.  The big caveat being air, sea or amphibious operations are carried out by drones which are controlled remotely via camera links.  Alternatively, the player can issue instructions on a tactical display which the drones will then carry out semi-anonymously.  Ideally, a mixture of both is how the game is meant to be played.  While it is certainly possible to tour much of the titular carrier through the player's in-game character, most (if not all) the game will be experienced on the bridge.  In this room, there a nine stations (three for drone control, one for the helm, one for shipboard weapons, two for managing logistics, one for power/coms, and the captain's chair).  It's certainly possible to play solo though a lot of multi-tasking is required to achieve any degree of success.  That said, I can't see there really being a need for more than three or four players aboard a carrier.  The game allows up to 16 which can participate in PvE or PvP style matches.

Aside from destroying all enemy carriers, the main task which players will be focused on is capturing islands.  Unsurprisingly, the world is an archipelago consisting of (a default) 64 islands, each procedurally generated and defended by computer-controlled vehicles.  A shield rating system (from 1 to 4) indicates how heavily defended a particular island is.  As far as I can tell one-shield islands are guarded by lightly armed land vehicles only, while two shields means they have either air or sea units present.  Three means both of those are deployed in addition to turret and missile defenses.  As for four...well, let's just say they are tough nuts to crack.  Each island also has its own biome (volcanic, tropical, forest, desert or snow-covered) and manufacturing focus (fuel, small munitions, large munitions, air chassis, ground chassis, support equipment or supply barges).  Once captured, the player's team can use the island's facilities to produce some of what they need to keep up their war efforts.  The logistics aspect of the game is actually fairly important to the point that it can occupy a lot the downtime that occurs when traveling between islands.  Another island type of note is the player's starting one.  It's a stockpile hub, but more importantly has a shipyard capable of launching small single-purpose gunboats.  These are handy to have, but also completely dependent on the carrier for fuel and ammunition.  Overall, the vibe I got was one similar to Homeworld: Deserts of Kharak.  So while Carrier Command 2 has a FPS perspective, it's really only there for emersion purposes.  The player can leave the carrier if they want, go swim in the sea or even walk around the various islands in the game, but there isn't any reason to do so.  Unlike Gaea Mission, there are no personal firearms or man-portable weaponry to be had.  The player can only attack through vehicle-mounted weapon systems.  Just to drive the point home, there is an option in the ESC menu that teleports the player back to the bridge regardless of where they wandered off to.  Welcome aboard commander!  Now that you are here you can never leave...well, at least until you win, lose, or quit to desktop.

Shimmy Simulator

The clear visor and internal helmet lighting are there
so you don't accidentally mistake Jacob for Riddick

Callisto Protocol (A.K.A. Splatterhouse meets Super Punch-Out) is basically the original concept for Dead Space.  Set on the titular moon of Jupiter, gameplay consists of linear third-person exploration and combat.  The latter of those two is further broken down into a fairly even mix of ranged and melee fighting.  In a way it reminds me a lot of the Condemned duology.  Like that pair of games, the sound design is second to none.  Aside from setting the mood, various audio cues are used to convey important information to the player ranging from the location and types of nearby enemies to the effect an attack is having on said enemies.  Graphics are also impressive from a technical perspective, but (in terms of art direction) are painfully bland.

What do get when you combine the common elements of every grim space sci-fi movie and television series from "Moon 44" to "The Expanse"?  It turns out you get Callisto Protocol in all it's generic glory.  Don't get me wrong...the game looks very genre appropriate.  It's just there is a severe lack of distinctive setting material.  The original Dead Space (for how derivative that game was) at least had a few things that made it standout; examples include Unitology, The Markers and Planet Cracking.  Here, though there really isn't anything unique.  Even stuff that could have been special, such as the exotic location, is made a lot more ordinary than it should be.  

Here's where it all began...

To demonstrate my point look at the moon of Callisto itself.  In real life, it's a big frozen ball with no atmosphere. The surface is nearly as ancient as the solar system itself and has almost one-hundred percent crater saturation.  In layman terms this means every new asteroid impact happens on top of an already existing one.  Underneath all that pockmarked terrain is the possibility of a subsurface ocean.  Imagine digging down through the permafrost only to emerge into some kind of cold underwater abyss roofed in ice with god-knows-what dwelling down in the dark depths.  It's a thalassophobic nightmare, that the game designers obviously had no interest in letting the player experience.  Instead, that terrifying encounter is only mentioned in passing and (as a substitute) we get a bunch of boring zombie mutants hanging out around what is definitely not OSHA approved industrial machinery.  Worse yet partial terraforming of Callisto has transformed the "dead moon" into basically Antarctica, complete with clouds, wind and snow.  I'm not sure why opening an airlock would suck people out if there's an atmosphere, but the game's creator (Glen Schofield) has a reputation for pointless scientific inaccuracies.  Case in point, Callisto (despite being a rather huge moon) only has 12.6 percent the surface gravity of Earth.  This seems to come into play a bit during one scripted sequence when the protagonist slowly falls down the side of a building.  The devs could have made up some excuse like "magnetic boots" to explain why low gravity isn't an issue onboard space ships or inside the prison complex, but once your out on the surface this fact should have really come into play.  Specifically, having to navigate around chasms and fences should have been trivial since you character can vault over them with ease.  It could have been an interesting change of pace from a gameplay standpoint...more of an open sandbox arena...also, zombies coming flying at our hero through the snowstorm would have been absolutely unnerving.

Speaking of the hero of this story, he fits the Dude McGuy roll perfectly in that he is a short-haired scruffy thirty-something that has little in the way of personality and no motivation beyond immediate survival.  I get that they were going for the everyman protagonist here, but give him a lisp, a tic, a phobia; make him religious or superstitious...something that the actor can work with! As is, his female counterpart would have made a far more interesting main character given that she has a backstory that could have shed some much needed light on the underdeveloped plot.  It's weird that known profession actors were hired to play the various character roles when they were given so little to do.  The real kicker though has got to be the ending.  Just as the story feels like it's starting to go somewhere the credits roll on a sequel-bate cliffhanger...got to justify that season pass, I guess.

To anyone on the fence about getting this game, I would recommend waiting until it's on sale in a bundle that includes all the DLC plus (as of now much needed) performance patches.  Only then will it be worth playing.  Unless you're in Japan, of course, in which case it's simply not available because it was deemed too violent.  To everyone else...well...you've already made up your mind, haven't you?  

Howling at the Moon

The word "quarry" has two meanings
a "rock mine" or a "hunted animal" -
Hackett's Quarry indeed!

Callisto Protocol is the hot new game out right now, but why talk about that when there's another six-month-old horror title I never got around to?  Made by Supermassive Games (the developers behind Until Dawn and The Dark Pictures Anthology), The Quarry has a lot in common with those games mechanically.  From a story perspective, it uses the classic teenagers-at-a-summer-camp setup.  Even so, it doesn't have all that much in common with the "Friday the 13th" films.  Instead, it borrows more from "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and the "Blair Witch"...plus there are werewolves.

That last bit isn't so much of a spoiler as an approximation.  While the featured creatures of The Quarry have a lot in common with lycanthropes lore-wise, they are visually quite different to what one would expect; tall, hairless and gaunt with elongated limbs.  These werewolves are uniquely disturbing to look at.  In particular, the first reveal scene presents them via some absolutely creepy shots.  All this is aided by (as is always the case in Supermassive Games) excellent use of lighting, sound and camera placement.  Sadly, the spectacle is undercut somewhat by their physical movement which can come across as rather weightless at times.  Worse still, this lack of inertia and mass extends to instances where said werewolves interact with other character models.  In other words, the kill scenes sometimes look more goofy than horrifying.  Regrettably, these animation woes also extend to some of the facial motion capture performances as well.  Maybe it's due to technical issues, or simply a lack of polish.  Hair and water effects are a bit rough too, though these are long-standing problems when it comes to video game development.  Overall, it's disappointing to see given the clear amount of attention and effort that went into other aspects of the production.

The writing, particularly when it comes to dialogue, is sharp in a way that reminds me of Oxenfree. To elaborate on that, the characters talk like actual American teens minus their most braindead colloquialisms.  That may make it somewhat inauthentic, but trust me...we are all better off because of it.  Of course, well written dialogue is never truly going to elevate the script unless it has a good cast to deliver the lines.  Thankfully, The Quarry excels here with a talented list of known (though not especially famous) actors who nail their respective parts perfectly.

Ironically, their sensitivity to water means that the
 teens could have waited out the whole werewolf
 attack on boats in the lake, though this only
 becomes apparent to them after it is too late 

The story itself is somewhat of a slow burn; taking the first two hours (approximately a quarter of its entire length) introducing a cast nearly the size of a Stephan King novel.  In fact, this is kind of a roadblock in terms of story comprehension due to several plot-important characters only having a very short amount of screen time.  Adding to the confusion are the werewolves themselves which look indistinguishable from one another.  While this may have been intentional, I think the game would have benefited from including some easy-to-spot hints about the origin of each lycanthrope via accessories or tattered bits of clothing still on them even after they have transformed.  Incidentally, the transformation scenes in The Quarry are cleverly dramatic in that they use a burst of gore to hide the model swap from character to werewolf.  I actually feel like it's a welcome change from the traditionally slow and drawn-out morphing that is typically depicted.  Having stated that, I do think it's a bit weird that when they revert back to human form they are suddenly wearing scraps of strategically placed clothing again.  To be clear, I'm not asking for nude characters here, just an eye for consistency.

While we're on the topic of consistency, I should mention that the shear number of variations and outcomes in The Quarry is nothing short of staggering.  As is the case with all recent titles by Supermassive Games, anyone can die though there's only one minor character that has (for story reasons) an unavoidable death.  Visualizing the tangled web of possible plotlines must be a nightmare unto itself, but somehow the dev team managed to keep it logical...albeit with two caveats.

The first is the the kind of pitfall I encountered many years ago playing an obscure indie game entitled Uncanny Valley.  Basically, what can happen is player-made choices lead to vital chunks of the plot being skipped over such that, by the time the credits roll, it feels like they accidently missed one or more important scenes...because that's exactly what they inadvertently did.  If you want to see an example of this, look no farther than the final part of Nexlander's Let's Play The Quarry.

Aside from the surprisingly hard-to-get "everyone dies" ending,
it's also possible to have any one of the main characters be
the sole survivor

The other issue with having a wide variety of potential endings is it makes wrapping things up pretty difficult.  The Quarry does have a string of vignettes summarizing how things stand at the conclusion, but doesn't offer much in the way of resolution outside of a pseudo-podcast over the closing credits.  It's better than nothing, but not exactly satisfying either.  Aside from a few post-launch technical issues, this is the biggest criticism I've seen leveled at the game.  In a roundabout way I guess it's a compliment since the implied meaning is a lot of players actually cared enough about the characters to want to know what ultimately happened to them.  I don't know though...maybe a little F.B.I. style watchlist report using snippets of condition-sensitive dialogue or text would have been better?  Like I said before, it's a hard thing to do well without creating a massive resource sink.  Endings are hard...and on that note, until next time! 

Plants, Please

Somewhat of an indie darling, Strange Horticulture is simultaneously the name of a video game, the name of the plant shop in said game, and a pretty good two word summery of what the game is about.  Set in a fictionalized version of England's Lake District, players take the role of a shopkeeper and proprietor of houseplants.  As far as I can tell, none of the plants featured in the game exist in real life, so for better or worse I couldn't get in-game versions of any of the the half-dozen kinds of decorative plants I actually have in my home right now.  That said, a wide variety of visually interesting plants are featured in the game, including some which have very outlandish properties.  

The gameplay feels kind of similar to titles like Potion Craft: Alchemy Simulator and Papers, Please.  Customers come into the store, usually to request a plant by name or a solution to a problem they are having.  Either way, the player must then puzzle out which of the initially unlabeled stock is the correct one to give (based on clues provided by the customer or found in a specimen catalogue).  New plants can be acquired by traveling via a grid-like map, though knowing were to go involves following clues and tips provided from a variety of sources.  Later in the game a storyline involving a cult and a covenant of witches materializes, but I won't spoil that by going into any further detail.  

Overall, Strange Horticulture is an atmospheric puzzle game with a laid-back, albeit slightly sinister vibe.  The punishment for guessing incorrectly is mild and the process of figuring out what to do is just challenging in enough that it feels satisfying when the solution is found.  On top of that, there is a built-in hint system that the player can use if they're feeling stumped.  It would have been nice to see more sketches and artwork depicting what the wider world looks like, but that might be asking for more than what the brothers duo dev team can provide (given the extremely limited resources at their disposal).  As for criticisms, there are two things that I initially found slightly confusing.  

The first is the fact that ringing the countertop bell calls a customer.  Normally, it's the other way around.  Of course, I understand the reason for this.  The developers want the player to be able advance at their own pace.  It's just that this particular aspect of the game is pretty much the opposite of how it works in the real world.  

The other thing is the act of giving a plant to a customer doesn't actually deprive the player of that plant.  Presumably, a cutting or extra unseen specimen is what is actually being provided...still I found it weird at first.  Again, I understand why it's this way.  The process of growing more plants would involve harvesting seeds; not to mention worrying about things like soil, water, temperature, and sunlight.  Features like that would blow out the scope of the game quite a bit and, while great ideas to consider for a potential sequel, the implementation of them would undoubtedly makes things a bit more complex than what the developers probably had in mind.  Regardless, I'm looking forward to the announcement that "Audrey II" will be available in the form of DLC.

Way of the Cube

Max Brooks (son of the famous comedian Mel Brooks) dabbled in acting, like his father, but ultimately settled into being a writer.  His most famous work is arguably "World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War".  While technically the film of the same name is supposed to be a movie adaptation, it has next to nothing to do the plot/characters of the book.  The audiobook, on the other hand, is a very faithful (albeit distilled) version of the novel.  Aside from some comic books, other works by Max Brooks include the "Zombie Survival Guide" (a tongue-in-cheek handbook on how to get through your typical undead apocalypse), as well as another horror novel featuring sasquatches entitled "Devolution".  The Max Brook's book I want to go over in this blogpost though is "Minecraft: The Island".

It might come as a surprise to some, but this was the first official novel to be released in a Minecraft setting.  Even more surprising is the fact that it isn't necessarily written for children.  The point of entry for the reader is the classic everyman-finds-themselves-unexpecidly-transported-to-another-world premise.  Details of the protagonist's life are left vague in no small part due to the fact that they cannot recall much from beforehand in detail.  The amnesia thing is a bit cliché and the entire concept feels a bit silly, but in a weird way Max Brooks makes it work by playing the situation completely straight (literally the first page reads "The following is based on true events").  Having no foreknowledge of their current predicament, the protagonist of "The Island" finds themselves in a rather difficult survival situation as they try to unravel the often twisted logic of how things work in Minecraft.  Examples include basics like punching wood and floating blocks to eternally burning torches and the classic newcomer mistake of trying to water crops directly with a bucket.  Struggling to learn the myriad of Minecraft recipes on a 2-by-2 or 3-by-3 grid is also covered in significant detail...it's a strange story, but one that is very true to the source material.

Each chapter of the book is short and centered around the protagonist learning something important - pearls (or perhaps I should say "cubes") of wisdom that the reader might find meaningful beyond the scope of Minecraft.  Overall, the vibe I got from "The Island" was a Robinson Caruso self-help book in the style of Andy Weir's "The Martian".  In more general terms, it's a memoir about enduring against the odds. 

Bro, Do You Even Battle?

Speaking as someone who studied probability and statistics back in college, random number generator mechanics are not a great fit for video games.  In theory, it sounds good.  In reality though, it's unrealistic.  Perhaps the best way to illustrate my point is with a little game called Battle Brothers.

If you've played Darkest Dungeon or XCOM, then you're intimately familiar with RNG...except not really.  Those two games use pseudo-random number generation in that failures are artificially boosted on subsequent attempts.  The more you fail the more likely you are to succeed later on.  True RNG means you can legitimately fail a 99 percent success rate ten times in a row or have an enemy score a 5 percent chance-to-hit a dozen consecutive times.  The previous results have no bearing on the next one.  Only when the results are examined on a massive scale (say thousands, or tens-of-thousands of iterations, do averages start to consistently pan out).  Within the context of a single battle though, that doesn't necessarily manifest itself.  In fact, this is why a lot of table-top war games use a pair of six-sided dice for everything (the bell shaped curve of die results make things more predictable and consistent). What true RNG really means is even in a fight where the odds are totally even, it's not uncommon for one side to completely slaughter the other purely based on the luck of the draw/roll.  It's not very true to life.  People adapt quickly when lives are at risk, and if they are met with failure they will often change their approach on the fly with each subsequent attempt until they hit on a more successful method.  Ironically, Battle Brothers has this factor baked into the game design (but requires the player to go out of their way to access it).  I guess you could consider it an anti-frustration feature, but the game has a number of other game design choices that start to grate over time.  

Random events are one such example.  Run into a friendly stray dog?  It bites the finger of your best warrior.  Participating in a tournament?  Now your bannerman has permeant brain damage.  Why are contracts so wildly inconsistent in terms of payout and challenge despite having a rating system?  As for the enemy themselves, I've never fought a cripple despite having many under my command...unless you count constantly respawning undead to be a disability.  The lack of transparency is another hindrance to enjoyment in that players never get to peak behind the curtain.  How much fatigue has that enemy knight built up?  What was the injury that enemy just received?  Why do merchants only give me a tiny fraction of the value any given loot is worth, but then immediately turn around and mark up the price by ten-fold the moment it is sold to them?  I guess the correct answer here is gameplay balance...but honestly if that's the solution then maybe the developers need to go back to the drawing board and re-envision certain fundamental mechanics.  It's a shame that Battle Brothers suffers from these issues.  The basic loop of accepting a contract, completing the mission, and collecting a reward is solid.  The AI is smart and employs a variety of thematically appropriate tactics.  It's just that the process is tailor-made to prioritize frustrating parts over fun stuff.  Really, the entire experience is summed up rather well in its visual style.  I know why the characters are represented as busts, but it doesn't look great.  Why not go with something more visually pleasing like the pixel art of Stoneshard?  Actually, never mind...that's another game that seems to think difficult means tedious rather than challenging. 

Cycles, not Sagas

Of all From Software's action-RPGs, Elden Ring has the strongest resemblance to J.R.R. Tolkien's works.  In particular, the Silmarillion seems to have shaped the look and feel of the "Lands Between."  That said, there's a lot more Gaelic mythology baked into the lore, whereas Tolkien's "Middle Earth" was influenced primarily by Scandinavian sagas.  I suppose this shouldn't be surprising to see considering G.R.R. Martin has family ties to Ireland.  Overall, the world of Elden Ring is a bit less gloomy and more dreamlike compared to other From Software games.  In terms of gameplay though it's still very much a Souls game.

The inclusion of open-world mechanics hasn't altered the rhythms that we have all come to expect from Miyazaki Hidetaka, aside from a greater degree of flexibility.  Players are no longer required to pursue only one or two options.  Instead, they can choose from a wide variety of tactics and character builds, all of which are equally viable.  For me, it's actually somewhat of a problem in that I currently have five different characters (a samurai, a knight, a priestess, a barbarian, and a mage) that I keep bouncing between, unable to commit to any one class for the duration.  This problem even extends to the moment-to-moment gameplay in that I spent my first hour or so with Elden Ring avoiding combat entirely; preferring stealth and exploration over fighting.  Even now (many hours into the game) I find myself reluctant to get into any boss battles.  Normally they are a highlight of these kinds of games, but I've come to the conclusion that I don't enjoy the challenge very much.  Way too much dodging is required and the opportunities to counterattack are too few/narrow.  As if slowing chipping away at massive health bars wasn't tedious enough, there's a tendency in newer From Software games to have boss enemies go berserk or power up when their health drops bellow the halfway mark.  Oftentimes this results in the death of the player character which, in turn, means starting the encounter over from the beginning.  That personal gripe aside, Elden Ring is a much more forgiving game than any of it's predecessors.  There is no "hollowed" state that reduces your max HP, horseback combat is a breeze and computer-controlled allies are just a bell ring away.  

I've heard that using sorceries also greatly reduces the overall challenge, but based on my own experiences that really isn't the case.  As far as I can tell, a classic sword and shield fighter is the easiest archetype to play.  Outside of the mandatory boss battles, most combat in Elden Ring hardly feels worth the effort.  There are "runes" to be gained, but the amounts aren't generous and most loot will be of little use to any given character class.  For example a low strength build will never be able to wield "great" weapons (of which there are many).  Quite a few special abilities also lack practicality; relegating them to amusing novelties at best.

Despite my criticisms, Elden Ring is an impressive accomplishment (even by From Software standards).  It sounds like the game has attracted a lot of newcomers as well.  Maybe I shouldn't be surprised though considering that the overall experience has a lot in common with The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.

Shrunk to Excellence

I often write about the 4X genre (eXplore, eXpand, eXploit, eXterminate) of games here on this blog.  Stellaris, Master of Orion, Space Empires and the long-running Civilzation series are some of the go-to examples, but as I have mentioned in the past none of them were my introduction to this particular strategy subgenre.  That honor belongs to Spaceward Ho!  Originally launched in 1990 the game has since gone through a number of revisions and updates with the current version 5.0.5 released in 2003.  As one might notice, it's an old game, and fairly simple despite all the updates.  In-game technological advances are represented by simple numerical values with bigger being better than smaller.  There aren't any alien species to choose from just different styles of cowboy hats to represent each faction.  Heck...the "galaxies" don't even have stars, just planets floating in the void of space.  Any notion of realism is discarded; starships can look like giant cybernetic sharks or have a giant boxing glove on a spring strapped to the front of them.  The appeal of the game doesn't lie in its presentation, but rather the underlying mechanics.  Many times over the years, I have wondered if there could be a game that bridges the gap between the simplicity of Spaceward Ho! and the modern sleekness that has since been introduced to more recent 4X games.  Tactical battles, for example, consist of nothing more than rival vessels blasting each other back and forth with no way to implement maneuvers or formations.  Perhaps a bit more could be done there...?  Until recently this sort of game was merely a hypothetical concept born out of wishful thinking and an overactive imagination on my part.  As it turns out though, such a game exists and is appropriately named The Final Theory.

In fact the title of the game is less about the meta aspects of 4X design and has more to do with the in-game goal itself.  In order to win, the player must develop an unproven scientific device capable of remaking the entire galaxy.  There's a lot to do before getting to that point though so let me go over the gameplay.  Much like "metal" in  Spaceward Ho! starship construction requires a finite resource called "tacknium" found in certain sectors of the galaxy.  Final Theory doesn't bother with individual planets or even star systems, nor does it care about colonization.  Instead, it cuts off the beginning and end bits of most 4X games in order to focus on the most exciting parts that tend to happen in the midgame.

Much like Isaac Asimov's original "Foundation" trilogy, the galaxy has already been fully populated and now consists of four renegade factions as well as the remnants of a once all-encompassing interstellar empire.  Color coding is the only visual difference between each of these five rival entities (unless you want to buy some cosmetic DLC that provides alternate looks to each faction's starships).  Incidentally, the ships themselves are divided into traditional nautical nomenclature: frigate, destroyer, cruiser, battlecruiser, battleship and dreadnaught.  Each ship type is made distinct by the offensive and defensive weaponry at its disposal.  Battles take place on a two-dimensional hexagonal plain.  Ranges, firing arcs, movement speeds and the potential to inflict damage (based on whether a particular weapon system is more effective against shields or armor) are all factors to consider.  Thankfully, turn-based combat means that the player can take as much time as they like weighing the pros and cons of each of their many options.  The hulks of destroyed ships act as obstacles, adding another dynamic to the battlefield.  This variety of things-to-be-considered also extends to the strategic layer of the game in that each sector has a specialization.  Sometimes this consists of the ability to construct ships of a certain class.  Interestingly enough, once built, the vessel is moved to a "reserve" from which it can be deployed to any sector containing construction facilities regardless of the category.  This is an especially important mechanic to keep in mind since each faction (including the player's) can only move one fleet per turn on the galactic map.  So, sometimes deploying an all new fleet is quicker than moving an existing one to a desired location.  The size of individual fleets is also limited, but can be expanded by taking control of sectors that specialize in increasing that particular stat.

One aspect of The Final Theory that initially confused me was the various resources that the player accumulates and spends.  Aside from the aforementioned tacknium (needed for ship construction) there are engineering points, development points, and enriched tacknium.  All three can be acquired simply by controlling sectors that produce them in small, but never ending quantities.  Engineering and development points can also be gained through victory in combat.  The former is used to upgrade a particular class of ship, unlocking new abilities and allowing players to tweak the relative strength levels of armor, weapons and shields.  Development points work similarly, but are for smaller more specific upgrades.  Typically these sorts of modifications increase the damage or reduce the cooldown time for one ability found on a particular ship class.  Despite the name, enriched tacknium is only tangentially related to regular tacknium and is used solely to detonate a special bomb capable of wiping out an entire fleet (while simultaneously creating a nice new deposit of tacknium to mine).  There's also "data" that is gained through conquest and needed to trigger the final theory device that ends the game.

A few other gameplay mechanics worthy of note are as follows:

• A new harvester can only be placed in a sector every other turn.  This somewhat limits how fast any of the four upstart factions can expand their fleets.
• Access to a sector can temporarily be blocked once every four turns using a FTL disruptor.
• Starships can be recycled for half their original value in tacknium.
• Once a faction reaches a certain size they can launch a propaganda campaign once every other turn in an attempt to gain control of a neighboring sector.  The chances of success depend on a number of factors that I won't bother going into here.  Needless to say, it serves as  a nifty way to snatch up sectors of limited strategical value.

As you can see, there are a number of subsystems at work in The Final Theory.  Overall, it's still less complicated than say Stellaris, and yet not as simple as Spaceward Ho!  Some of the mechanics might feel needlessly restrictive but, much like rules for a well thought out board game, they exist to present the player with lots of meaningful decisions...and at the heart of it, isn't that what strategy gaming is all about?     

Suzerain

While I can't say I'm an avid reader, I do enjoy both fiction and non-fiction books.  Even so, I've never had much interest in visual novels outside the indie gem Subsurface Circular.  Like those old choose-your-own-adventure paperbacks I read in my childhood, being able make meaningful decisions is vital to me.  In the case of Yes, Your Grace or...well...pretty much every Telltale game ever made, the illusion of choice is a bit too transparent and the plot too linear for me to fully enjoy the overall experience.  Sadly, this is also the case with many visual novels.  However, when listening to a fairly recent episode of the "Three Moves Ahead" podcast, I was surprised to hear how much playthroughs differed between the host and guest for a little political simulator called Suzerain.   

Actually, calling it a "simulation" might be a bit misleading.  On the other hand, I've seen people on forums claim it's really a text adventure which also feels a bit disingenuous.  For one thing you aren't typing in commands into a text parser, and for another there are portraits of nearly every character in the game.  Going into more detail about the art, some characters feel like tongue-in-cheek nods to real world counterparts.  For example, the player's minister of foreign affairs looks an awful lot like Jimmy Carter while the President of the not-USA is almost identical to Richard Nixon.  His Minister of Economics, William E. Simon, also shares a certain likeness to the personal holding the same position in the player's cabinet.  In a bit of inversion the ruler of the not-USSR basically looks like Ronald Regan with a tan.  Other characters seem to have their appearance inspired by Hollywood actors.  The leader of the liberal reform party is the spitting image of Jason Clark, while his direct opposite looks a lot like Robert Goulet to me.    

Most of the game takes place in the form of branching dialogue trees with short paragraphs of description or internal monologue sprinkled in.  That said, the game also features a beautifully rendered map from which the player can trigger events, as well as read reports and news articles.  The setting itself is in Merkopa, a fictionalized version of Europe circa the 1950s.  Some countries have fairly obvious real-world parallels: Wehlen is pretty much Iraq, whereas Arcasia and Contanan are stand-ins for the USA and USSR respectively.  Other nations are a mixture of several real-life counterparts: The Republic of Lespia feels like it is somewhere between Portugal and Italy while the player's country, Sordland, is an amalgamation of Spain and Turkey.  Others still are a bit hard to pin down: The Kingdom of Rumburg is a bit like the United Kingdom while The Democratic Republic of Valgsland seems vaguely German.  

Much of the input the player provides is in the form of relations with these various nations, as well as dealing with intrigue and turmoil within the boarders of Sordland.  While the game is mostly driven by static images and text, superb use of music and sound cues help set the mood.  The prose are also very concise which excels at drive the story forward at a steady pace.  A few handy charts and hotlinks to a mini-encyclopedia are provided to help the player grasp all the details.  There's even a in-game place to take notes if the player can't keep track of everything in their head.  That said, Suzerain is intricate but not complex.  The majority of events in the game involve meetings or negotiations, but peppered throughout are some personal moments as well, adding some much needed variety to the overall experience.  In general, the writing is great although I did stumble over a few oddly worded sentences that may have been the result of typos.  If I have one big criticism of Suzerain it comes across as a bit too cynical.  Some might respond with "that's politics for you..."  I agree, but this is a video game and as such could benefit from being a bit more lenient in certain respects.  It took me 64 hours split up between six complete playthroughs just to get an ending that didn't windup with my character, President Anton Rayne, being killed or imprisoned.  Bittersweet conclusions are fine, but I think one thing that could have been done to soften the blow of a "bad ending" would be to include an segment showing 21st century Sordland and what, if any, lasting impact the player's presidency had on the country.  As is, the epilogue feels a bit rushed with a quick summery (stylistically bookending the prologue), followed by a statistics page and then the credits.

Criticisms aside, Suzerain does an excellent job of getting the player into the mindset of a politician.  You are constantly weighing options, considering pros and cons, as well as being very carful about what you say.  The shear breadth of narrative directions is also quite impressive.  Anton Rayne, President of Sordland, can be a liberal-minded reformer, a conservatize reactionary or a simple autocrat.  He can lead the country toward capitalisms or socialisms, war or peace, glory or ruin.  It all depends on the choices the player makes throughout the game.  Pretty much every character and nation can be turned in to an ally or enemy.  Some characters even live or die depending directly or indirectly on what the player decides.  There are certain unavoidable nexus points that come up every playthrough, but the context and outcome of these story beats can change substantially based on prior decisions.  To give an example - Franc, President Anton Rayne's son - can study abroad and become a staunch capitalist or communist.  He can join the army and die in battle, survive and suffer PTSD or become an officer rising through the ranks.  He can even fall in love with a girl from a persecuted ethnic minority group.  Seemingly minor choices matter or, at the very least, have noticeable effects.  Player responses, both big and small, can sometimes have unforeseen consequences too.  This can be frustrating, in that the game is basically always in ironman mode, though it occasionally results in a pleasant surprise.  Lowering the age of retirement from 65 to 60 years of age, unexpectedly caused my unemployment rates to drop significantly due to older members of the workforce stepping down and being replaced by previously jobless young people.

In terms of breadth, Suzerain is an impressive accomplishment that raises the bar when it comes to interactive storytelling.  It would be very interesting to see another game like this set in Eastern Merkopa.  Alternatively, applying a similar design template to a spin-off set in an ancient feudal kingdom or some kind of interstellar empire in the far future could be really exciting too.  Regardless, I look forward to Torpor Games' upcoming projects whatever they may turn out to be.

Misleading Titles

The ideal UK summer sky - cloudy with patches of heretical blue

Ever felt that the title of a game doesn't reflect the experience of playing it?  I can think of a few such games: Final Fantasy (it sure wasn't the last one) and Half-life (the game starts with Gordon Freeman having full health).  Jokes aside, the hands-down winner of this category of video games has to be The Magnificent Trufflepigs.  Spoiler alter!  There are no pigs or truffles, nor is this recently released indie game "magnificent" (reviews are decidedly mixed).  So, what is it really about?

Ostensibly, Magnificent Trufflepigs is actually about metal detecting in the idyllic countryside of northern England.  Getting down to it though the game is a mostly linear story-driven walking-sim focused on two characters - Adam and Beth.  All of their interactions are dialogues usually taking place over a pair of walkie-talkies.  Sadly, players can't operate their metal detector while listening to these frequent conversation sequences.  The way players find buried objects is also a bit strange.  Instead of making sweeping motions back and forth while advancing slowly (until the detector beeps), the system works more like a proximity detector (chiming more and more rapidly as the player closes in).  I don't think the game needed to be a one-to-one simulation of the real thing, but something that was more akin to how metal detectors actually function might have made gameplay somewhat less barebones.  Since there's not all that much in terms of gameplay...how about the story? 

At the risk of sounding reductive, it's Firewatch: handheld transceivers, red herrings, a natural setting, and sprinkle of romantic tension...the same framework is there.  The problem is our two leads in Magnificent Trufflepigs have a very lopsided relationship.  Of course, there's a story reason for this dynamic - it wouldn't be a proper Firewatch clone without a late game plot twist or two (more on one of those in a moment).  Having said all that, I noticed more than a few players who got annoyed with Beth pretty quickly because the "treasure hunting" aspect of the game is put on pause every time she wants to chat.  Tangential question...why bother with portable radios when they both have working smartphones?

Well, that's a relief...being a horror game I was
worried there for a minute...

Anyway...the endgame twists I alluded to earlier is Adam not being an actual childhood friend of  Beth's, but rather a figment of her imagination.  The tale concludes with Beth selling off her valuables in order to go on an "adventure" of self-discovery.  I suspect that the intent here was for players to be left with bittersweet or heartwarming feelings about finding oneself.  However, one review I read (possibly written by someone with a background in psychology) noted that hearing voices in your head while pawning off all your personal belongings is a major red flag as far as mental health goes.  I found that interpretation amusing, but it is perhaps too dark a turn of events given the sentimental subject matter.

In the interests of fairness, I should mention a few of the good points.  The voice acting is topnotch.  The music is pleasant.  Visually, the game is beautiful.  A tip of the hat to whoever was tasked with art direction.  The hot air balloons and wind power generators, in particular, were a nice touch.  In general, it's a relaxing game that doesn't overstay its welcome.  I think with some modifications to the script and improvements to gameplay, it could have been a indie gem...that is if the title were changed to something to do with metal detectors and soul searching.

Diving in Again

Subnautica: Below Zero has left early access and as such I've decided to go for another swim in the aquatic world known only as "4546b".  Unlike the previous game (which took place on an equatorial, mostly underwater, plateau) Below Zero is centered around a polar cove dominated by snow-covered islands and ice flows.  Some of the flora and fauna are similar (or in a few cases identical), but for the most part it's an all new location for players to immerse themselves in.  Actually, the landmass was visible from orbit when the silent male hero from the original blasted off at the end of the game.  He's gone now though and in his place is a more talkative female protagonist.  Whereas the first game had the singular driving goal of escaping from the planet, our heroine this time around is on a mission to find a missing family member.  Apparently, this ocean world has a propensity to ensnare space travelers...despite being a sequel though, the map is more compact with an emphasis on poking in every nook and cranny.  The horror elements have been toned down a bit.  Even so, I imagine people who suffer from thalassophobia will still find plenty of things to be terrified of.

What will be immediately familiar to returning players is the fundamental gameplay loop:  gathering resources, using them to build things, then going on expeditions for more/different resources and to complete story-related objectives.  As far as the survival-crafting subgenre goes, it's nothing special.  What does help distinguish Subnautica from its peers is the undersea aspect.  When the player is forced onto land though the gameplay feels very shallow.  Since combat isn't practical the experience tends to drift into "walking simulator" territory.  To help offset potential boredom, a hypothermia meter needs to be managed in a manner not so different than oxygen.  Still, Subnautica is at its best under the waves rather than above them.

One last topic I want to hit on is vehicles.  Much like base-building components and personal equipment, there are some returning favorites like the "Seaglide" and "Prawn Suit".  Others, such as the "Seamoth" has been replaced by the "Seatruck".  When modular cabs are attached to the back it also fills the role of the "Cyclops" submarine without any of the aesthetic sensibilities.  On land, there's a hoverbike...but as you can see there's not a wide selection to choose from.  In fact, the impression I get is of a standalone expansion rather than full-fledged sequel.  I guess that's why it is called Below Zero instead of "Subnautica 2".  If there is a proper sequel someday, I hope it's "McElligot's Pool" meets "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea". 

SRPGs

Final Fantasy: Tactics was not my first strategy RPG (Shining Force was), nor is it my favorite (that honor belongs to Vandal Hearts).  Even so, I feel compelled to mention some of the merits found in this genre-defining game.  It also stands as unsurpassed despite being well over two decades old.  So, where to begin...

Probably the single most noteworthy feature in Final Fantasy: Tactics is its job system.  In essence, player-controlled characters in the game can change classes, but retain skills and abilities acquired during their previous occupations.  Additionally, it's possible to "learn" abilities and skills used by enemies in combat.  While not unique to the Final Fantasy franchise, this does mark a significant departure from other strategy RPGs in that each unit has a player-determined career path that defines who they are.  Typically, characters in these kinds of games have a very linear upgrade track with (at best) a binary choice somewhere along the way.  In order to avoid the problem of every character feeling like a bland mishmash of options though, important story characters begin as exclusive classes.  On top of this there are certain more powerful classes that are only available to characters who meet particular sets of experience prerequisites.  It's an interesting compromise between flexibility and customization while still making characters distinct.

Gameplay comes in the form of tactical turn-based skirmishes of up to a dozen or so units that take place on diorama-like battlefields.  The small size of these arenas actually work to the game's advantage in that they throw the player directly into the action.  The single color backgrounds also do a surprisingly good job of conveying moods given their simplicity.  For example a blue background might help create the image of a clear sunny day, while grey implies overcast weather and black feels like encroaching darkness.  These same sort of dioramas are used in cutscenes and story segments which gives the game a stage theater quality to its presentation.  Reinforcing this is plot and dialogue which have a pseudo-Shakespearian vibe.

I should also mention there are two versions of this game.  The original PS1 release and a remaster for the PSP (eventually ported to mobile devices).  The updated adaptation is referred to as the War of the Lions version and boasts a variety of improvements including a better (than the original) localization featuring bouts of Ye Olde English.  Without spoiling anything, the plot also has a tragic feel to it.  So, in other words, it reads like a Shakespeare play at times.  Generally speaking, the game is a low fantasy setting that grows increasingly outlandish as events unfold.

One other thing I want to mention is the numerous subsystems found in Final Fantasy: Tactics that can be completely skipped over by the player.  There is a whole game mechanic involving birthdates and zodiac signs that can be safely ignored.  It's possible to capture and breed certain monsters to assist in battle.  There are even several classes (such as the Astrologer, Mime, and Arithmetician) that I never used, nor fought against over the course of the game.  The player can even send some of his units on text-driven errands involving treasure hunting or exploration.  Overall, there's an incredible amount of depth to be found, but only at the player's discretion.

Of course, there are often criticized aspects to Final Fantasy: Tactics as well.  Certain skills or class combinations can lead to some character builds feeling vastly overpowered compared to others.  Much like the lack of noses on character portraits though, I tend to see this as more of a feature than a flaw.  There are so many nice little details too, such as the choice of music in a particular scene, or the sound effect that happens when the player rotates their view of a battlefield diorama.  Even the character sprite animations have cool flourishes or subtle cues at times.  

Having showered this game with so much praise, it comes as a disappointment that Final Fantasy: Tactics never got a proper sequel.  Although there have been quite a few spiritual successors made by fans and even the original creator, Yasumi Matsuno, the ultimate fate of Ramza (the story protagonist) has never been explored.  Hey, Square-Enix!  Since y'all are so hot on re-envisioning older Final Fantasy games how about showing Tactics some love to?...what's that?...Triangle Tactics Project...well...better than nothing, I suppose...  

  

King Arthur (and Friends)

It comes as no surprise that this ubiquitous character from English folklore has been in his share of video games, the most recent of which is a little indie title by the name of Pendragon.  Mechanics-wise, there's bits of board gaming classics like chess, checkers, shogi and "go" all sprinkled in.  Each encounter has it's own checkerboard layout and pieces.  Added to this is a layer of narrative in the form of character dialogues and descriptive texts that feel lifted out of Le Morte d'Arthur (thankfully without the unconventional spelling).

Chronologically, Pendragon takes place shortly before and during the battle of Camlann.  Arthur is making his last great hurrah against Mordred and players can be one of many different acquaintances of the king coming to his aid in this final climatic battle.  From a writing standpoint, this is a clever way to tackle the fiction since one of the biggest challenges is making sense of the convoluted mythology.  Even something as iconic as Excalibur has a very muddled history.  It was pulled from a stone when Arthur was just a boy squire, right?  Or was it given to him later by the Lady of the Lake?  In some versions of the tales there's another magical sword called "Calibrun" that was broken in a battle against King Pellinore (or was it Lancelot?).  Arthur had some other magical items in his panoply.  These include a dagger called "Carnwennan" and a shield called "Pridwen."  He also had a spear called "Rhongomyniad" which in later texts is simply referred to as "Ron" (possibly because its such a hard name to spell let alone pronounce!).  Interestingly, Arthur's spear is mentioned in one of the campfire stories the player can choose to hear over the course of the game.  Oddly enough there's virtually no mention of what specific magical properties any of these weapons have anywhere.  Ironically, the scabbard for Excalibur does magically protect its wearer from bleeding out when injured, but enough about objects.  What about characters?  Well, they aren't much better.  Let's look at an example.

In modern version of the legend, Mordred is Arthur's bastard son, born of incest and rotten to the core.  However in earlier versions of the story, he was simply Arthur's nephew and legitimate offspring of King Lot.  Even if we assume Mordred's father is Arthur, it's not clear which of the high king's three half-sisters is the mother.  In Pendragon they opt that it is not Morgana le Fay, but rather one of the other sister (which might be confusing to people with only a passing knowledge of the lore).  Considering all this, it's easy to see why J.R.R. Tolkien decided to reimagine English folklore from scratch.  Miyazaki Hidetaka took a similar approach when adapting Arthurian characters into Demon's Souls and Dark Souls.  Still, it's nice to see someone who is willing to dive into the original material and carve a compelling tale out of it.

I wonder, though, if there isn't an opportunity to embrace the inconsistencies by letting the player choose there version of events.  In Pendragon the player is presented at various times with two different responses their character can give.  Perhaps such a system could be be used to create a player cannon.  Considering the minimalist approach and presentation, it wouldn't require a large team of developers in order to expand the scope of Pendragon to include the entire Arthurian legend.  Maybe that would make a good sequel of sorts for the once and future king.