We Need a Trophy Room

Imagine yourself a professional bowler for a moment. You've been bowling for many years now and have built up quite a collection of trophies, as well as a handsome sum of money. While the money has either been spent or put away for Junior's bowling lessons, you have each and every one of your trophies displayed in a room built special for this purpose. You love your room. You love the trophies within this room. You may not go in there every day, but when you do it's nice to reminisce about the moments each trophy represents. Now imagine that, after earning so much money from winning tournaments, you had the opportunity to move into a much bigger, more attractive house. Your family wants to move, your friends and family want you to move - you basically have no choice but to move on. Unfortunately, for no other reason than "just because", you cannot take your beloved trophies with you. They must remain in your old house, into which no one will ever move. You can go back and visit them if you want, but the drive is a long one, and no one will be there to dust them off regularly. Basically, you'll probably never go back to visit them, despite all the work you put into earning them.

Okay, now step back into your own shoes - sorry, your pro-bowling days are gone now - and think about the above situation. It's a little silly, right? Why shouldn't the bowler be able to take his prized trophies to his new house? Simply put, he should.

Can all three of you readers see where I'm going with this? Sure you can! But I'll spell it out anyway: What happens to our achievements/trophies once the next generation of consoles releases? Should we even care?
Sure, not every gamer cares about these extra, perhaps meaningless, virtual trinkets; but many do, and I can see the possibility of losing these as a hot debate point for many gamers in the next year or so.

For my part, in the grand gaming scheme they really are worthless, and I would certainly still play and enjoy games withouth them. However, I still enjoy having something to take out of each game I play as a sort of reminder of what I did. Also, they offer their own unique challenges and actually change the way I play a lot of games now. I find myself being pushed harder to complete that FPS on veteran difficulty, complete more of the side quests in certain RPG's, and even pay more scrutiny to the levels as I search for that last collectable item - and all of these are due to the added replay value trophies/achievements add to games, which in the end means I'm getting more for my money.  This alone makes tro&chi's (which heretoforth shall be my word for you-know-what's) worth having around.  And, you know what?  I think I would be a little upset if I had to leave them all behind once the next generation of consoles land on store shelves.
I don't expect the next Playstation or Xbox to be backwards compatible (though I would prefer them to be), but I think some sort of consistency is reasonable.  And by this I mean being able to carry over our gamertags/PSN accounts, our tro&chi's, and perhaps even our downloadable games/DLC - the latter of which some of us have paid mightily for.

Here's what would make me happy:  Let us carry over our accounts to the new systems (which I think is highly likely, anyway), and offer some space on the dashboard for a sort of library/trophy room for our past played games.  It doesn't seem like much to ask - just as it may not seem like much to worry about one way or the other; but, hey, I earned those little digital bastards, and I wanna keep 'em!

Personally, I think this is really the only way to go if Sony and Microsoft let us keep our tro&chi's, as an ever-growing gamerscore would get a little out of hand in some cases, and (I don't know about anyone else) I'd rather start as a level 1 gamer once the PS4 is upon us - it just seems like the right thing to do.

Actually, now that I think about it, here's an even better suggestion for Sony and Microsoft: Gamerscores 30,000 and above net the player a year of free Xbox Live on the new system; and for Sony, gamers level 12 and above get a free year of Playstation Plus on the PS4.  Get on it, ladies and gents!

Review Quickie: Crysis 2 (PS3)

I've been drooling at screenshots of this for awhile, and as always, seeing it in motion is even more impressive.  Most everything about the PS3 version of this game looks great, but most striking is the realistic lighting - sunspots and lens flares are like candy for the eyes.  Later in the game, when the setting turns to night, is (pun intended) when the lighting effects really shine.  The story is thankfully decent and intelligently written for a FPS (we need more of that, please).  Set in a crumbling New York City, the game tries to feel somewhat open, and only succeeds mildly before ushering you into a building and down various hallways.  This is only mildly disappointing, since the gunplay and suit powers are extremely good and always entertaining (I beat the game in ten hours and started again right away).  Enemy types are few, but once again fun to take down.  My biggest gripe is that I wish the game was a bit longer, and that there was a hulking, mean alien beast for a final boss instead of four, invisible and annoying grunts to take down before the credits rolled.  Do yourself a favor: put down Modern Warfare for a day and play through Crysis 2's single player campaign.

Review Quickie: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow

Just a note: I'll probably do more of these quickies, so think of them as long twitters or whatever. Just want to get a few quick thoughts out there for the hell of it. Here we go:

Castlevania: Lords of Shadow

I first thought this would be yet another God of War clone. Nope, folks, not really. First, it's lengthy. Second, its combat becomes deep and satisfying once played long enough - similar to God of War, but I actually enjoyed this title much more than GoW III. Graphics are stellar. Music is gorgeous. Platforming segments can be tedious thanks to strange camera angles, but this is a small complaint. Play this game to kill monsters and you won't be disappointed. Also, the ending packs quite a surprise and I can't wait to see what comes next. A brave move forward for Castelvania, and let's hope the next installment sets it apart from the GoW clone-isms.

No Gerfect Pame

I've played a lot of video games over the years, and despite my overall fascination with the medium there has always been a downside. Call them what you will: bugs, glitches, hilarious; they are present in nearly all game releases, be they AAA or indie titles, yet we keep supporting these games and will continue to do so. I had to ask myself recently - why? Why keep spending money on imperfect products?

If I went out today and purchased The Lord of the Rings on blu-ray and found that the Balrog morphed into a seizuring hippopotamous in a tu-tu halfway through the battle with Gandolf, I might be inclined to spout a few curse words at Peter Jackson and his "let's do things half-ass because people will still buy our crap" crew. Okay, first I'd probably laugh, exclaim how awesome it was, post it on Youtube, and then let the wounded consumer in me have his way with bashing such a shoddy product. Still, any lack of polish in a triple-A movie would more than likely be caught and fixed before being released for mass consumption. So why aren't the vast majority of people who bought... oh, let's just say... Skyrim for the heck of it - why aren't these consumers crying from the mountain-tops and steering everyone they know away from this flawed product? (Not to single out Skyrim, but at the time of this writing it's pretty much the elephant in the room. Am I wrong?)

It would be interesting to go on a roadtrip and interview thousands of gamers on their particular opinions regarding this matter; but as my job doesn't allow for much distance between me and the time clock, and even when at home I feel the presence of some fell barrier keeping me from such a frivolous pursuit, we'll have to settle for what I've surmised and/or made up from trolling online and talking to my very small handful of acquaintances who game. Excited? Let's go!

Seriously though, Skyrim is an amazing experience and I can't recommend it more to anyone who considers him/herself a gamer - and this leads me to my first discussion point. I have been an unwavering fan of Bethesda since Morrowind released for XBox and PC. I've learned that, in a console-heavy environment with numerous mindless FPS's, third-person cover-based shooters, the Wii's unfortunate shovel-ware, I can always find a rich, immersive, satisfying experience within The Elder Scrolls. So, in my case at least, I've come to accept, even expect, the flaws found within these games because I think the trade-off is worth it. I enjoy Gears of War and Call of Duty very much as well; but I tire of them both, and games of their ilk, quickly because shootin' dudes just isn't as satisfying as the personal link I eventually feel with my Elder Scrolls (or any other solid RPG) characters. And if Dammit the Dark Elf wants to get stuck in between some rocks every once in a while then so be it - I suppose.

So, while long-time fans of the series have come to expect the occasional glitch, what about those who are just discovering the series?  Why do they put up with the glitches? Surely, some don't; and are likely some of the people posting complaints on Steam's and Bethesda's forums, demanding their money back or some other form of restitution. So here's a "but" for you... But, considering the millions of copies of Skyrim that have sold so far, I'd be willing to bet a large chunk of money that most of those millions are not voicing their frustrations on forums or via angry emails. In fact, most of those millions probably do the same thing I do: grumble about glitch, keep playing, grumble about glitch to gamer-friend next day, smile when turning on Skyrim after a day at work, rinse, repeat.

Here's an analogy: Games (games being: glitchy, but still beloved to certain gamers) are like a rich, adventurous friend who likes to take us places and pays for everything. Unfortunately, this friend likes to pick his nose and eat the results. He doesn't do it on every outing; but enough that you wish he would just freaking stop it. Just when you think you've had enough, and are about to tell him, "Dude, I made other plans for the weekend," he calls you up and offers to take you to a Tool concert on the back of a T-Rex (yes, a real T-Rex) and that afterward you'd both be raiding a town he had custom-built for the sole purpose of tearing it down Rampage-style with your choice of either a real T-Rex or a really big monkey. And you say to hell with it, he can pick his nose all he wants.

I don't think there's a definitive answer as to why we accept our favorite games' incessant nose-picking; but it's become increasingly obvious to me over the years that the majority of the time it's a case of tolerance - tolerance for two reasons: We tolerate the bad because, in some cases, the good far outweighs it; and also because we've been indirectly conditioned to the point that we're just used to it. Think of your favorite NES-era games and what happened when the on-screen action got a bit too busy... we had moments of massive slow-down, not to mention flashing/disappearing sprites. We got used to it back then, and now we just accept it when NPC's fall through floors and dragon bones drop out of the sky.

I suppose an appropriate way to end this post is with a question then: Should we, who pay top dollar for one of the most expensive hobbies out there, continue to just accept these flaws? Or are some of us tired to the point that our spending should become more discriminating? Would you rather purchase the next glitchy installment of the Elder Scrolls, or a game you know you may enjoy less but that is guaranteed glitch-free?
As someone who likes to have fun, I'll choose the option that provides the fun as long as there aren't any game-breaking glitches. I'm just hoping that, as the medium ages more over the years, developers can more easily clean up their code and/or amp up their QA efforts to provide the product exactly as we see it advertised - engaging, beautiful, and perfect enough to pay the sixty-dollar entry fee.

*PS: Traffic on my blog has been surprisingly good the past couple of months. So, go me! Anyway, if you're not stumbling by here on accident and actually read my posts, don't hesitate to comment on something. There is a Comment Fairy. She is real. And she'll tuck a dollar under your pillow when you're sleeping tonight. Her dollars are very small, however, so good luck finding it - but it'll be there, I swear!

Hell is...

(Edit: I originally stated T.S. Eliot as the author of No Exit. Heh, oops. It's Jean-Paul Satre. Sorry Senior Satre!)
Satre's famous line "Hell is other people" from his short, existential play No Exit recently floated out of my subconscious the other day and I spent some time pondering its relevance to me.  Sure, there are days at my place of work (which, sadly, has nothing to do with creativity, games, or much else that is fun) that I can certainly identify with this phrase.  I'm also not exceptionally social, as I greatly enjoy my time alone to write fiction and play my games.  In fact, most days I don't feel the need for social contact (I don't even have a facebook profile) - but not always; I recognize the benefits of being with friends and when a good opportunity arises I'll find myself having a few drinks and laughing with these other humans.  So, as amusing and thought-provoking as Satre was, I wouldn't tattoo "Hell is other people" to my forehead and avoid humans like the devious little devils they can be.  No, to me hell is not other people...

It is this:  I'm in the seemingly alluring Ovei gaming pod:

but once I close the side door I realize the ultra-comfy lounge seat has been replaced with a pole sticking up from the floor, and on the pole is a disturbingly skinny, and nearly cement-hard, bicycle seat.  I grudgingly sit down, knowing that what awaits is complete gaming immersion - crisp audio, beautiful colors from the monitor, and all of this enhanced by the lack of outside stimuli as the pod closes me off from the outside world.  But, wait...

There is no monitor to dazzle the eyes, only a 13-inch black and white television, the kind my grandparents used to have in their family room.  I used to hook up my Sega Genesis to this and attempt to play Sonic and Phantasy Star in tight-lipped denial that I wasn't having a horrible time.  But there is not even the luxury of the Genesis' 16-bit glory in this gaming pod, only an NES, one controller, and a game cartridge with no label.  The air in the pod grows slightly warm and I tug at my collar as I try the door, which I find to be locked tight.  I decide I can handle playing a classic NES game, and I smile as I realize by the light of the static buzzing on the small television that the blank cartridge is Zelda-Gold in color.  I cringe as I sit on the bicycle seat, and find myself deep in the ritual of blowing on the cartridge and turning on and off the NES as I wait for the static to give way to some classic gaming.

Finally, my labor is rewarded by a black screen and... the Sunsoft logo?  My eyes widen in terror as I realize Zelda this is not.  The title screen for Fester's Quest greets me, nay, mocks me in the dim and now stifling hot gaming pod from hell.  I curse at the prospect of playing this horrible game once again.  I once rented it from a small video store down from my home and spent a couple of days trying to mine some amount of fun from its deviously futile gameplay.  I found no fun; and, in fact found my mood extremely dreary after having played it so much.  And now it stares me in the face, after all those years of trying to forget its horrible effect on me.  I attempt to throw down the controller and find it impossible, my hands having fused with the flat grey plastic. I weep and look around for something awesome in this dismal pod.  I find nothing awesome.  I weep some more, the bicycle seat becoming uncomfortably familiar with my backside.

Then, from all around me comes the sound of rock and roll!  My mouth gapes in hope that I might hear Black Sabbath, or Motorhead, or, for god's sake, anything but the Fester's Quest theme song!  It is none of these, it is Ted Nugent's awful, awful, awful "song" Wango Tango.  Wherever the unholy speakers are in this pod, they are all at full blast and I begin to feel my head pound like a Jack Daniels hangover.  My hands begin shaking as the song comes to an end, and to my horror begins to repeat ad nauseum.  Nausea.  I feel the need to vomit but can't quite make it happen.  Wango Fester.  Tango Quest.  Head pounds.  I begin to play Fester's Quest, and start chewing my bottom lip in hopes that I bleed to death before my ears cave in.  Hell is not other people... it is the worst parts of the things you love dearest coming to a head.  Wango.

My hopes for Skyrim DLC

DLC... an acronym that at once excites and annoys.  I can't say I'm against the concept, I only wish more developers would release worthwhile extensions to their games.  The PC crowd used to call these extra morsels "expansions".  The word alone promised a hefty handful of extra content that was well worth the trip to the store; and I think it also helped keep developers from spooning out content like rations (good luck releasing horse armor under the "expansion" monicker).  Fastforward to the future and the word expansion is all but forgotten - even in the PC arena.  Modern day console owners are finally tasting what PC gamers were ten or so years ago in the form of extra content for their favorite games.  Unfortunately, the shift from "expansion" to "DLC" has allowed developers to release extra content that can be underwhelming (extra weapons or even weapon skins for a buck or more) - this isn't across the board, but it's a common occurence.  Thankfully, certain developers go out of their way to produce something more akin to the now defunct term "expansion" - Rockstar and Bethesda to name a couple.  I could go on and on discussing the pros and cons of DLC, but I'd like to focus on one particular game: Skyrim!

What follows is basically just me dreaming, and expecting way more than is perhaps reasonable from Bethesda.

Recently, one PC gamer found the lands of Morrowind and Cyrodiil fully mapped out beyond the reaches of Skyrim.  They are not quite to scale when compared to their original counterparts, but the geography is certainly there.  Using no-clip, he managed to traverse a path not meant for the average gamer and came across views of not only the Red Mountain in Morrowind, but even (far, far in the distance) something that could only be the White Gold Tower in Cyrodiil.  The reality of this find is likely not as exciting as I would like it to be, though I can dream - and so I will...

Here's my (very unlikely) theory:  Apparently Todd Howard wanted Skyrim to recapture the feeling of excitement and discovery that Morrowind was brimming with, which I thought was lacking in Oblivion.  Bethesda certainly succeeded in this, in fact they completely out-did themselves on every level.  What if this enthusiasm carried over to the DLC?  I think it's possible, as Howard himself has said that the amount of Skyrim's DLC would be less than previous games, but also "more substanstial", as he told Wired.com.  Certainly sounds more like...what was that word again?  Oh yes!  Sounds an awful lot like "expansions" to me, from that forgotten era when extra content meant more than just a new multiplayer skin for other people to raise an eyebrow at before blowing its head off.

Imagine, if you will, revisiting the lands of Morrowind and Cyrodiil with Skyrim's shiny, new engine.  It would be interesting to see how the landscapes and people of these areas have changed over the past few hundred years - especially after the volcanic eruption in Morrowind.  I say send us back, Bethesda, and give us an expansion that bests even the excellent Shivering Isles from Oblivion.  Give us a game that we can play for the next few years, always knowing that each time we fire up our console or PC something new is waiting for us.  As far as content is concerned, Skyrim is at least double that of Oblivion's; so if the drive to create a base game so large as Skyrim is there, then it seems logical that any expansions are going to be equally ambitious if even on a smaller scale.  We may not get the entirety of Morrowind or Cyrodiil to explore, but even a small chunk of each area could be filled with a good hundred or so hours of gameplay.  On a side note, considering the possible size of said DLC, it seems likely that the geography of these two lands were included to reduce the size of the files upon release, thus making for a quicker download and a happier customer.  I can't say it enough: the inclusion of these lands is intriguing and makes the nerd in me daydream about the possibilities at every opportunity. 

So I say yes, Mr. Howard, by all means have your talented team tack on another few hundred hours of gameplay. And take your time too, because Talos knows this milk-drinker has awhile to go before he's bored of Skyrim.

Onimusha: Dawn of Dreams is Dreamy

Sequels are both a horrible bane and a great blessing in the world of video games. They can vault new and classic franchises to heights of greatness, or they end up in the doldrums, sharing premature bargain bin space with your Devil May Cry 2's and Lost Planet 2's. And then sometimes the developer strikes a chord with its audience, and can release multiple sequels of more-of-the-same; which works for your Call of Duty's, because it's still fun, familiar, and safe. The best kind of sequel, obviously, would be the kind that manages to improve on a familiar, even classic formula. This kind of sequel still retains the cozy, security blanket familiarity of the original; but improves upon nearly every aspect to the point that the end product feels new and exciting. For the most part, Onimusha: Dawn of Dreams achieves this precarious balance. I was instantly familiar with the gameplay, but also surprised to find a much deeper experience than the previous entries. Despite the game's many successes, though, I still found a few supremely pesky flaws in the design.

Before digging in to the actual gameplay, though, let's talk a little about story first - this is an rpg after all (well, kind of). If you've played any of the previous Onimusha games, you're familiar with the bug-like genma, their offering of false power to various greedy humans (read: future boss fights), and their obsession with taking over the world. There isn't much here in terms of depth; however, the handful of party members you acquire throughout the game help hide the lack of substance in the main plot-line. There is Akane, a nimble female ninja; Ohatsu, a gun-toting warrior; Roberto, who punches the crap out of things and could easily cross right over into a game like Street Fighter; Tenkai, a white-haired yet youthful man who fights with pole arms; and let's not forget the main character, Soki, a deadly sword-wielder. Their interactions are always amusing, even funny at times, and their relationships with each other run the gamut between hate and love. Sure, eventually they learn to appreciate each other; but the long road to the end credits sometimes felt like a soap opera, which I actually enjoyed.

As the game progressed, I found myself exploring many types of environments, each with its share of simple but often fun puzzles forcing me to use the character-specific abilites (Akane can sqeeze through tight spaces, Tenkai is able to speak with the dead to obtain useful info and keys, etc).  The game also threw an admirable assortment of enemy types at me, which helped keep the action fairly fresh - a must for this twenty-five hour playthrough.

Let's be honest though, the real draw of the Onimusha series is its combat. The first two games may have served well for their time; but tank-style controls and swordplay just can't stand the test of time. With Onimusha 3, and now Dawn of Dreams, Capcom thankfully injected new life into the series by adding full 3D environments and camera control. I popped in Onimusha 2 shortly after completing DoD and frankly - it was painful, and really made me appreciate the added control of the two latter games. Gameplay is nice and responsive, and each character is fun to play. There are also scads of weapons and items to collect, as well as abilities to upgrade, that will certainly take more than one playthrough for the average gamer to obtain them all. That said, replay value is through the roof here for the Onimusha enthusiast.

Despite pretty much falling in love with this game, I found myself cursing certain elements more than I would have liked. First of all, this game is absolutely brutal. Don't get me wrong, I love difficult games, even crave them from time to time; but for all the love put into DoD's combat it seemed I was outmatched in many cases without any other option but that of flailing wildly or blocking. There would be a handful of small to large enemies in front of me, some behind, and then some other enemies shooting at me from a distance. In fact, most of the latter part of the game seemed like one long gauntlet and I found myself scrambling through some areas just to avoid fighting the mobs. Maybe I sort of suck at this game, but I also didn't get the sense that I could effectively dispatch every enemy in every area without consuming all my health items.

Another failing of this game - one that I am sure was not due to any lacking of ability on my part - was the annoying camera. Okay, I just praised the rotational camera earlier; but it is far from perfect. More times than I could count I found myself flailing at enemies just beyond camera range. One particular boss fight I actually spent the majority of slashing at the edge of the screen, the boss just out of camera shot. During those many heated battles with the games many mobs I also found the camera shifting to look down at my character's head, again leaving me flailing wildly at the edge of the screen until I could turn the camera or run away. The 3D camera of DoD is a far cry better than the static environments of Ye Older Onimushas; but it is far from perfect.

After effectively praising and then, perhaps, lambasting this great game let me end on a good note: the boss battles. Are you a fan of boss battles? I sure am, and this game dishes them out like beads at Mardi Gras. They are frickin' everywhere, and most are just plain awesome. In fact, the last chapter of the game is a series of boss battles totaling (if I remember right) eight tough fights in a row. Be sure to brush up on each character's moves before tackling the final chapter, you'll be glad you did.

Improved graphics, improved/broken fully rotational camera, memorable characters, satisfying combat mechanics, and an almost criminally hard difficulty make this one satisfying playthrough if you don't mind those pesky PS2-era jaggies. Even after playing the likes of Bayonetta and Ninja Gaiden Sigma, this aging game holds up very well and may deserve another spin in my Playstation sometime soon.