Tides of Time

Ahh….Tides of Time.  Wait.  That’s a board game!  Yep – part of our semi-weekly tradition is to find and play a random board game.  This time, I thought it might be a good idea to write up a quick look at our experience with this game – again, the requirement to give each game a fair shake (usually an hour) stands.  In this case, we played three rounds at our FLGS.

Tides of Time styles itself as a glorious adventure of “merciless cunning, grand choices, and a deeply tactical game in only 18 cards”.  None of that is contained within the box (Not even the 18 cards – for, you see, there are actually 19 cards).  Chezni and I played several rounds, but (as might be expected), the limited number of cards does lead to limited strategy.  While its possible we were just missing some crucial aspect to the game that makes for the grand choices specified on the box, it really does seem like this is just a case where too little was included to make an engaging game.

The one redeeming aspect to the game was the card art – on extra large cards, no less.  Sadly, even that is not enough to save this from Tier Three.

Dark Messiah of Might & Magic

Chezni already reviewed this, so I’ll spare you the details.  Suffice to say that as a Source-based RPG, Dark Messiah isn’t bad.  Here’s an analogy to explain: I recently watched a movie called Hudson Hawk, starring Bruce Willis.  It was an interesting movie – sort of a cross between Die Hard and The Fifth Element.  It wasn’t the best movie ever (and it wasn’t as good as either Die Hard or The Fifth Element), but it tried something new and was an overall decent movie with a couple great scenes.  In the same way, Dark Messiah isn’t bad (though the running animations are hilariously bad) – it has some interesting interaction with your environment (kick everything).  It wasn’t terribly long or unique plot-wise, but at least it tried something new.  It scrapes its way into Tier One because it isn’t Risen and because you can kick everything (though the platforming is still terrible).  My only real problem with it is its serious fascination with spiders.  So.  Many.  Spiders.

And, because Chezni took the dark path: I took the light path.  Interestingly, I found the succubus’ voice annoying (though occasionally amusing) and your companion likable but underdeveloped.  Dark Messiah definitely falls into the trap of “female interest likes you because the plot says so.”  There is practically no development for Leanna (and the Succubus is mostly a tutorial voice), which was a bit disappointing.  They really could have done quite a bit with both of those characters as they follow you on your adventures, but then the game would need to also be twice as long (which would not be a bad thing).

 

Nevertheless, as for my endings:

Yeah…they’re all pretty much the same.  The only difference is that whats-her-name is with you instead of the Succubus.  I mean, she doesn’t tempt you to rule the world.  But the no-succubus demon-father ending is exactly the same as the one Chezni mentioned with the succubus.  The “good” ending (with Leanna and re-chaining your father) is equally disappointing – perhaps more so since the narrator essentially says “and the fate is still unknown” – so your entire effort was for naught.

Ah well.  I can’t say I didn’t enjoy my time, or that I didn’t wish I could spend some more – which is why it stays in Tier One.

Eversion

Eversion is a game about hailing the dark lord collecting gems in a post-apocalyptic cthulhu-esque happy little meadow, somewhat reminiscent of another game.  This is both a first impression and a full review, since I finished the game in under an hour.  Well, technically, I got the “bad” ending, but I didn’t really feel like doing all the work to get the “good” ending.  Eversion is based on an interesting concept – the slow decay of the world around you as you traverse what I assume are different time periods in each area.  Unfortunately, it’s too short – and getting the good ending requires quite a bit of additional effort.  While that wouldn’t normally be so terrible, the main draw of the game is your first experience.  When you are forced to go back and get every collectible skull gem, it quickly becomes just a chore since the mechanics aren’t terribly new or remarkably executed.  If it were longer and had more branches, I think it would be a solid Tier One.  As it is, it must go into Tier Two.

Thief: The Dark Project and Thief III: Deadly Shadows

These games combine much of what makes playing games fun.  In both (and the second one, The Metal Age – but I didn’t play that one), you play as a thief (shocking, I know).  You’re given a simple heist mission and the ability to accomplish it however you like.  From there, story grows in bits and pieces between the missions.  But then, the story isn’t really why you’re here.  The reason you’re here is to steal everything.  And steal everything of value you can.

One of my favorite features of these games is the adaptable objective system – more so in the first (but still present in the third), the difficulty level you choose doesn’t really change how the game plays – it changes what you need to accomplish.  Lower difficulties just have you surviving and accomplishing the goal.  Higher difficulties have you not killing civilians and stealing everything that isn’t tied down.  And I think that’s fantastic.  That’s how difficulty should feel.  Giving the player more health or the enemies less damage doesn’t mean anything but changing some numbers.  Giving you new challenges forces you to grow as a player, rather than just execute the same thing more and more perfectly.

I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention the fantastic level design and worldbuilding.  Each level has multiple approaches. The guards walk their shifts while humming to themselves (which is amusing even if it does make for some of the noisiest guards I’ve ever seen).  Everything feels like a guarded place you’re not supposed to be, but that you’re going to rob blind anyway.  Even so, it never feels cheap – when guards see you, you deserve it.  Even better, the game doesn’t automatically end if you’re spotted.  You have a chance to recover and stop the guard before he raises the alarm and kills you.  In other words, this is the kind of gameplay I would have hoped for from Assassin’s Creed.

The last thing I should mention is that these games still have a modding community.  For The Dark Project, there are fixes and resolution upgrades.  For Deadly Shadows, there’s a meta-mod of sorts that fixes everything from resolution to enemy difficulty to map backgrounds.  Both of these are practically essential with modern hardware, but come with the bonus that they also improve both games dramatically from a technical standpoint.  With these mods, both these games come in at a solid Tier One.

Steam link

DeadCore

DeadCore has an interesting problem.  Or, rather, two problems.  The first is that cubes spawn randomly.  The second is that wall clipping is possible.  These may seem like very obscure or minor complaints, but they are significant.  You see, DeadCore is a speedrunning game.  It’s a fantastic platformer, with at least 20 different paths in each level.  There may only be five levels, but finding new paths or perfecting the ones you know can keep you playing for many hours.  Each level is a new height of difficulty – introducing new mechanics or asking you to perform previous tasks faster and more precisely (though sometimes with just a bit too few save points in between).

But this is also where wall clipping – and some other minor bugs – are a real problem.  Being a speedrunning game means executing actions extremely precisely – repeatedly.  Except where you expect there to be RNG (I really hate those cubes), the same actions should produce the same results.  But more often than should be, you’ll find yourself clipped into a wall or hitting a jumpad that doesn’t send you as high as it does 97% of the time.  And then the run is ruined though no fault of your own – and you have to start over.  DeadCore was made by a small team (six people, I believe) for an 7-day FPS challenge, so I’m willing to let these bits slide.  Even so, I do wish they had been able to spend another six months working out those last few bugs.

Other than that complaint, Deadcore is wonderful.  The controls are precise, the myriad paths are fun to discover and complete just a little bit faster each time.  It’s well worth the $10, and I highly recommend it as speedrunning at its purest.  The only thing more I could have wished for was a level editor.

Steam link

Star Wars: Dark Forces

Dark Forces is the grandfather of the Jedi Knight series and a surprising combination of Doom and Ultima.  Well, just the music style from Ultima – which was a surprising choice for a Star Wars game (though probably just a limitation of the hardware).  The rest of the game is Doom clone all the way – until you get a lightsaber, but I never got that far.

I went back and forth on putting this in Tier Three or Tier Two.  I felt like putting it into Tier Three was unfair since many of my complaints are due to the game’s age and comparatively lackluster design.  At the same time, I feel that many of my complaints are legitimate: movement is floaty and you have the magical ability to bend your blaster bolts towards enemies as long as you are pointing your weapon in generally the right direction (and I miss vertical look, but I’ll let that slide).  The environments are complex, but provide little direction or visual cues.  In fact, due to the Star Wars aesthetic, enemies and switches often blend into the background.  One of those ten panels may be a switch, but there’s little to indicate it.

What clinched putting it into Tier Three is that it came out two years after Doom, a year after Marathon, and the same year as Marathon 2: Durandal.  Those three games are fantastic – from exquisite level and enemy design in Doom to the fantastic story of Marathon and Durandal, they are deserving of their places as classics of the shooter genre.  Dark Forces just feels like a reskinned Doom with little to recommend it as a first-person shooter – except that it’s Star Wars.  Which is almost enough.

Steam link

911 Operator

A few weeks ago, I looked at This is The Police – a game where you act as a police chief three months from retirement.  There was a lot of polish in that game, but it was all overshadowed by a lack of any real choice or any event randomization.  You are forced to work for the Mafia, and actually trying to help your town (instead of just working solely for yourself) is just going to lead to disappointment or death.  Still, there were a few interesting moral options (not that they mattered, which was the problem) and a bunch of interesting features (like being able to collect LPs and playing them while you dispatch).  I would have liked it they just hadn’t tried to have an “interactive” story– which, coincidentally enough, is exactly where 911 Operator comes in.

911 Operator is what happens if you took only the mechanical bits of This is The Police and made it into a game.  And it’s almost exactly what I was hoping for from This is The Police.  I’ll admit, it is a little disappointing to not have to try to deal with the outrageous demands from City Hall.  I also think This is The Police had better staff management mechanics and a bit better interface.  But overall, 911 Operator is the way to go for actually feeling the pressure of trying to help people with limited resources.  Similar to This is The Police, you manage the day-to-day happenings in your corner of a city – dispatching police, fire, and ambulances where necessary.  The primary distinction is that here, you actually answer 911 calls and determine if action needs to be taken for many events – which is pretty cool.  The calls are quasi-randomized – in just the right way – to keep them unique (at least for a few hours), with a few scripted events sprinkled in.  For example, when I got to the second city of Albuquerque, I was surprised by a call that sounded like suspiciously familiar story:

But this is where the trouble comes in as well.  Randomization is hard, and you need a massive pool to keep things fresh over long periods – otherwise these Easter eggs or scripted events will stick out too much.  911 Operator is quite good, but it could definitely stand to have about twice as many voice actors and randomizable lines – though I suppose that’s a complaint that can be leveled at any semi-random game.  Having a choice of Operator voice would have been nice as well, but the voice actor is good enough that it isn’t too much of an issue.  I do wish the 911 Operator developers had had twice the time or budget to expand on their concept, but the game that they made is still quite worth it, I think.  And hopefully, since it is on version 1.0, the developers may be able to do just that in updates or DLC (and quash a few bugs along the way).

My bottom line is this: This is The Police feels like the grimdark faux-noir that leeches into so many films and games due to its contrived and unavoidable plot.  911 Operator feels like Sim City 2000 or Sim Tower – games that were just plain fun mechanical toys: so, to Tier One it goes.

Addendum: I’ve also realized this is an educational game.  Being a 911 Operator means you have to talk people though bad situations – and making the wrong choices makes things worse.  You don’t throw water on oil or electrical fires, you prevent people from moving impaled people, and YOU ALWAYS SAY WHERE YOU ARE AND WHAT THE PROBLEM IS FIRST.  It’s fantastic.

Steam link

1Actually, if you’ll permit me a moment to complain about This is The Police: You know what is a moral choice?  Being forced by the Mafia to either work for them or let your best friend be killed.  You know what isn’t a moral choice (or even a choice at all)?  Being forced by the Mafia to either work for them or let your best be killed…and you still have to work for them.  If you aren’t giving me a choice, don’t act like you are – that will just anger me and make me hate your game.  Make my choices (moral or otherwise) alter my game experience.  That would have been good game design: working for the Mafia makes things easier and keeps your friend alive.  Not working for them makes your work a bunch harder and means your friend dies, but it gives you the chance at a “good” ending.

Skyrim (Completed)

At 288 hours (plus quite a bit without an internet connection), Skyrim is the most-played game in my Steam library.  It’s also a mess.  But while it’s a fun mess, I’m not sure it’s a good game.  I’ve spent countless hours finding mods and setting them up just so so everything looks just right (I spent at least three hours finding the right rock textures).  I’ve walked back and forth across the whole of Skryim, become the arch-mage, hailed Sithis, raided the library of Hermaeus Mora, and lost myself in the depths of Blackreach.  And still I see things that I didn’t know were in the game on /r/Skyrim.  It’s remarkable fun to get lost in the world of Skyrim, just wandering about and doing the occasional chore out of your limitless quest log.  Once I have some time (and get a good mod order going for the Remastered Edition), I’ll probably spend another few dozen hours doing the same thing.  It’s a fun game to do just that, and I haven’t found quite its equal – though I’ve heard good things about The Witcher 3.  Now, let’s start in on the latest in my series of “Why did I write this much, and why didn’t I get some screenshots to break it up?”

Wide as an Ocean, Deep as a Puddle

You’ve probably seen that saying somewhere in a review of Skyrim once or twice.  But if you haven’t: it refers to how many open-world dungeons, quests, and more there is to explore in Skryim, yet so little that really draws you in as a roleplayer.  On the whole, it provides an immersive experience because so many different things interact – but each piece individually isn’t particularly enthralling (with the possible exception of the Serena/Dawnguard questline, and not just because she’s a vampire.  Get it?  Enthralling?  Vampires?  No?  Stop?  okay).  I feel a little bad leveling this criticism since I can’t really point to any specific thing that would have fixed it entirely.  It’s more a general feeling than anything else; but there are a few specifics I can point out that might help you see what I’m getting at.

The first one is dead simple – and almost a little silly.  There are probably about – oh, actually, according to the wiki – exactly 1,089 NPCs in Skryim.  Bethesda employed 70 voice actors.  That would normally seem like a lot, but as you play the game it really starts to grate that everyone you meet sounds exactly the same.  Guard #347 from Riften sounds exactly the same as Guard #209 from Solitude.  Sound design is a too-often ignored aspect of games, and the results are on clear display here: there’s a reason sweetroll and arrow memes exist.  This problem is compounded by the face-concealing masks worn by every guard in Skryim (though there is a mod to fix that).  I mean, come on – it’s rule #1.  And where do they all live?  Wouldn’t it be more interesting if the guards had lives like the rest of the NPCs?

The next specific feels almost counter-intuitive until you’ve played the game for a couple hundred hours (or, at least, it took me about a hundred).  There are many strange, undiscovered places scattered across Skyrim, right?  Well, not so much.  If you visit the towns, talk to the NPCs, and fill your quest log to overflowing, you’ll start to notice that any place of any significance has a quest associated with it.  People lose their axes, are terrorized by trolls, or have heard tales of great treasure coming from every single place in Skyrim.  This is not unilaterally bad – some of the quests are truly unique and engaging.  The trouble is that Skyrim starts to feel less like a wonder-filled, ancient land where there are countless undiscovered caverns filled with treasure and more like a sequence of quests to be completed.  In other words, once you’re told to go explore, it stops being as much fun as having decided to do it yourself.  It’s far more fun to stumble upon a cavern that no one knows about, clear it of Draugr, and nab the treasure at the end without anyone having told you to do so.  In the end, I just stopped talking to people to feel more like I was actually discovering a place I would stumble across in my journeys.  It would be more fun if not all the quests showed up in your log – and not just because you pick up so many quests.

This might seem like a ridiculous complaint, since it only starts occurring to you after so many hours of play, but it ties in to what I think the true purpose of Skryim is: to wander and explore (which is partly why the fast-travel mechanic makes no sense).  Those things take many, many hours.  The quests should only be there to get you going, teach you the rules, and tell a few interesting stories along the way.  The rest of the world should be a vast, unexplored country for you, the player, to discover on your own.  It should not be a place where the 400 year old unexplored crypt has fresh food and lighting and a lost axe that you need to recover.  Perhaps part of the problem is that there’s a delicate balance for a game developer who wants the player to experience as much as possible while leaving an air of mystery.  It’s hard as a content creator to leave things entirely undiscovered, but I think Skyrim would have benefited from more areas that were only hinted at and not quest-related.  In fact, I think Skyrim would have been improved if most of the game’s questlines were inaccessible in one playthrough.  This, my final specific complaint, is the most immersion-breaking, and it’s immediately obvious: the lack of factioning and player specialization.

Factions and Player Specialization

I’m going to take this chance to talk about a relatively unknown but incredible game – Escape Velocity: Nova – the only game I’ve played that’s successfully made a dynamic faction-based quest system (also, check out those system requirements – 400 MHz Pentium processor, yeah!).  In EV:N (and its two predecessors), you only had a random chance at any given quest-line.  The Vell-os, a psychokinetic branch of humans, occasionally find your pilot and let them know that they have fabulous secret powers.  There is only an 8% chance that any of your pilots will ever get that quest.  Additionally, with other quest-lines, you have several chances to defect or switch to a different faction (though explaining this was occasionally done poorly).  To see what I mean, just check out a page or two from this walkthrough.  Though it wasn’t always done perfectly, it made the game feel like your own and made each pilot you create feel like their own person.  It was great.  It felt good.

Fast forward from EV:N nine years, and an incredibly ambitious game called Skyrim comes out.  But in Skyrim, you can be the Archmage of Winterhold, the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, the Dragonborn, Harbinger of the Companions, Master of the Thieves Guild, Champion of Every Daedric Prince, and a dozen other things.  At the same time.  Every time.  In fact, unless you never visit Riften or can stand to have unfinished quests, you are practically forced to become a member of the Thieves’ Guild.  Your character just becomes the most powerful (wo)man in all of Skyrim without even trying.  I could understand that for the main Dragonborn plot, but it just doesn’t make sense for all the rest.  Wouldn’t it be better to introduce these sidequests based on what your character actually does in the game?  If you level up magic, wizards start asking about you.  If you pickpocket enough people and get caught, the Thieves’ Guild might bail you out and offer you a job.  If you do enough of those “take care of so-and-so” jobs, the Dark Brotherhood starts investigating (though that one is close to what actually happens).  Instead, Skyrim doesn’t care if you are the Thane of every hold, but also happen to be a notorious Thief.  Instead, Skyrim was designed with two design assumptions that make it both initially fun and a long-term mess.

Skyrim never asks the player to make sacrifices.  You can be the hero of all Skryim and Solstheim.  You might wonder how anything got done before you showed up.  You can fight legendary dragons off three at a time and not even break a sweat.  I understand that Skyrim wanted to make it possible for a player to just jump in to the game and not have to go through a tedious character creation (well, minus the requisite three and a half hours of facial feature adjustments).  But they could still have accomplished that without letting the player become so unreasonably all-powerful.  There should be a point where you have to decide to make some sort of sacrifice – some sort of trade-off.  It’s only when you are forced to stay within the limits of a system that growth can occur.  From a mechanical standpoint, I’m not saying that you should not be able to become an effective swordsman, archer, and mage at the same time – just that being the best swordsman, archer, and mage of all time is unreasonable.  There should be a point where you might primarily fight things with your fire magic because it has a good DPS rate.  But when things get real, you pull out your unreasonably-sized claymore, throw a quick enchant on it, and go to town.  From a lore standpoint, if I can just cure my vampirism with fifteen minutes of running around (if I don’t fast-travel), then it isn’t a very meaningful choice to become a vampire.  You may have to kill someone to cure it, but that’s barely an issue when bandits attack you at every opportunity.

In Skyrim, you are never asked to make moral choices.  Well… you are, but if you think they actually mean anything then you’d be wrong.  In the end, there are no true consequences for your actions.  When I first picked up Skyrim – oh so long ago – I was asked to find a fugitive and bring them out of the city for justice.  I quicksaved, did the quest, and then reloaded to try the alternate route.  I learned that the outcome of this quest is left intentionally ambiguous no matter what you do.  As a lone event, it’s a great example of how the correctness of your choice is not always clear.  Unfortunately, this single quest becomes the prototype for every moral decision in the game.  It doesn’t really matter what you do, since every choice you make is the right one – you’re still going to be the hero.  And, I suppose, part of the problem is exactly what I did – quicksaved and tried both to find the best route.  What’s the point of making a “bad” route if the player will just reload to get a better outcome?  It’s a concession (like fast travel) that isn’t necessarily a good or sensical thing.  Any opportunities for moral choice are further undermined by the presence of unkillable NPCs, a lack of any notoriety system beyond a trivial fine, a lack of NPC responsiveness, and a unreasonably linear questing system.

All these things combine to make a sprawling game filled with fascinating places, but a world where none of it captures you for very long.  When it does capture you, it sets up a neat experience that really does seem to capture the essence of a fun game – but around every corner is something to take you out of it again.  Those things are sometimes cleverly and remarkably hidden, but they are still there to wear you down over a long period of time.  The great moments in Skyrim are some of the best in video gaming, but they are too often the exceptions to the tedium of the plot and quests.  But enough about that.  Let’s move on to something Skyrim did right.

Lore and the True Depth of Skyrim

I have to give Skyrim’s developers credit: an almost unfathomable amount of lore and backstory is scattered around every Elder Scrolls game.  Just in Skyrim alone, there are 307 books that do nothing but talk about some piece of lore – not including letters, journals, or books that also increase your skill.  There are long, drawn-out conversations on /r/teslore that prove just how incredibly detailed the world-building of the Elder Scrolls is.  Beyond that, there are stories hidden throughout the Elder Scrolls games – like a burned-out shack with some journals about a young wizard experimenting with fire magic.  In Oblivion, there’s a wizard that falls out of the sky, seemingly at random.  But if you loot his body and read his journal, it tells a story of a failed magical flight experiment.  That same theme is continued in Skyrim.  It’s fantastic, and it is part of what makes faffing about so much fun.  Every book and location tells a story that adds to the lore, and I try to read and explore as many as possible – it’s a tradition I started after finding an appropriate mod.  There’s a story everywhere waiting to be discovered.

For book nerds (and if you are, ask me about The Night Circus sometime!) or anybody that enjoys immersing themselves in a fictional world, this is certainly part of the draw.  For everyone else, this is just another part of the game that can keep you coming back to wander about and have something to do when you are level 120 and have every title available in Skyrim except High King – and only because you assassinated the last one and people tend to frown on that.  Not that you couldn’t be the High King, though; everything is possible through mods.  Which brings me to the best and worst aspect of Skyrim: modding.

Mods

Mods are the best.  Through modding, you can customize literally every aspect of your Skyrim experience. That pillow breaking your immersion?  Replace it!  A weird bug causing framedrops?  Fix it!  Want to kill all the children?  Mod it!  You can even download full-blown DLC or decide that you didn’t actually want to play an Elder Scrolls game after all.  Modding games is PC gaming at its best, and in Skyrim this is on full display.  But not all of this is a good thing.

Mods are the worst.  I’m not complaining that I spent so much time modding – in fact, it’s fun.  Mod load order is taken care of as well – through LOOT – and you know a game is the modding king when there are well-designed GUIs for your mod load order tools.  What I am complaining about is Bethesda’s reliance on mods.  Skyrim is still quite buggy and didn’t look that good until the Special Edition came out…which made it look slightly less good than a simply-modded version and didn’t fix the bugs (though it did move Skyrim to a 64-bit architecture, allowing for NPC craziness).  This point has been belabored by many others, so I won’t say more on this topic.

But is it Fun?  Is it a Good Game?

I’ve complained a lot about Skyrim.  Most of my complaints are, I hope, reasonable.  They don’t make Skyrim a bad game – they just make a game that did not live up to its potential.  Still, the combat system is simplistic – especially in view of games like Dark Souls.  There are no real consequences for your actions, especially when games like Dragon Age exist.  There is no option to play the bad guy.  The people slated to fight you will always fight you, even after surrendering.  Maven Black-briar will never die, no matter how often you kill her.  The large-scale “battles” are laughably small due to an outdated engine.  Exploration is really Skyrim’s only redeeming mechanic, but even that is dampened by the lack of a truly unexplored world.

It’s certainly a fun game, due in no small part to the remarkable community of players willing to spend time modding things they find need improvement.  In fact, there are mods to counter many of the issues I just mentioned.  Which brings us to a problem.  By itself, Skyrim is a mechanically terrible game.  With mods, it is more fun and a better game.  Do I judge Skyrim based on what it is or what people have made it?  Should a game as open-ended as Skyrim be judged so harshly on its mechanics?

Conclusion

Open-world RPGs are just hard to make.  It’s a great deal harder than most people – game developers included – seem to think.  I’m fairly sure there has never been a “perfect” open-world game, though I haven’t played The Witcher 3 (and I have hopes for an upcoming one).  Skyrim far surpasses many when taken on the whole, but almost any good RPG has elements in which it far surpass Skyrim.  And that’s what I think makes Skyrim so hard to judge – it tries to be so many things, but doesn’t really do any of them perfectly.  There are few things in life that can do more than a couple things perfectly – that’s why the sentiment of “doing one thing well” is so successful and so many programs that try to do everything fail so spectacularly.  It’s why the “perfect” games I can think of are simple ones.

But in the end, Skyrim is fun.  You can get lost.  And sometimes, that’s enough.

BIT.TRIP RUNNER and Perfection in Video Games

Perfection is a tricky thing in video games, and perfection is what BIT.TRIP RUNNER (or, BTR) demands of you.  The best way I can describe this is by saying that BTR feels like an arcade machine; but it feels like an arcade machine that was designed to eat your quarters rather than to be fun (even though there are no lives and no Game Over-s).  It attracts you with colorful lights and interesting sounds tied together by a well-thought-out pixel art aesthetic.  There is a simple control scheme – press space bar to jump and use the arrow keys to execute maneuvers while the screen scrolls ever forward toward the finish line.  It seems straightforward and quite possibly fun.

The problem arises that in BTR, any failure means restarting the level.  The levels are short enough that this isn’t an immediate problem, but as the difficulty ramps, you find yourself playing the exact same parts of levels for 90% of your time to try the tough bits 10% of the time.  This just becomes grinding, since the levels require the exact same set of inputs to get to the point where you failed before.  Aside: there are technically alternate paths for brief sections, but those alternate routes give you no advantage so there is no reason to memorize them.

To figure out why this is a problem, I’d like to talk about perfection for a bit.

Perfection

Let me be up front: I think games that demand constant perfection are taking shortcuts to difficulty and are generally not worth my time.  Take Dark Souls or Legend of Grimrock II, for example.  Dark Souls does not require perfection.  It asks for excellence and an understanding of the rules, but it lets you make mistakes, and few mistakes (well, except in Blighttown) are immediately fatal.  I think this design philosophy becomes clear when, in the progression from the Dark Souls I to III, you’ll die less frequently from stun-lock.  In LoG, the only time you’ll really find yourself in a place that means almost certain death is if you let two tough enemies get on either side of you.

This is not to say that having segments that require perfection is bad or that rewarding perfection would be bad.  Guitar Hero (or my favored knock-off, Super Crazy Guitar Maniac Deluxe 4) is difficult and complex enough that perfection is a worthy goal, but you aren’t required to be immediately perfect.  Beyond that, perfection in the context of music makes sense (and the problems of requiring perfection in music is even the subject of a movie).  In other sorts of games, a segment that requires perfection can be a way to increase tension, as long as it isn’t extensive or represent a fundamental change to the game mechanics (like QTEs).  Speedrunning a game perfectly can show an incredible mastery, but it shouldn’t be the only way to beat a game.

The trouble only arises when perfection is your only path to progress or when using an unfamiliar set of mechanics.  I’ve tried figuring this out with Chezni, and the best thing we came up with was this: perfection is not human.  Failure is a part of learning and growth, and requiring perfection eliminates the possibility of learning anything valuable from a mistake.  This view ties back in to BTR nicely: when I play perfection games, it makes me feel like I should just write a script to beat the game for me.  There is an exact set of inputs that I must enter to progress, and no other set will lead to success – so why should I bother if I have no meaningful input?  (Aside: this is also the reason I stopped playing Klondike: it’s only winnable 80% of the time and even a perfect algorithm can’t save you)  If I watched a YouTube Let’s Play, I would see the exact same thing as if I had played it.  The obvious exception here is that in puzzle games, it’s a challenge that I would have to solve before I could tell a computer to do it – which is the very growth that other such games lack.

Back to BIT.TRIP RUNNER

I couldn’t find any place to put this, but I thought it important to include: the audio cues in BTR take place as the event happens, rather than when you need to hit the button.  In other words, the audio for the rhythm game doesn’t actually help you.  As you may imagine, this becomes quickly frustrating as the screen fills with sprites and makes it hard to tell precisely when you should jump.

The entire challenge in BTR lies in learning the mechanics and then implementing them.  There’s no motivation to do so – you’re learning the mechanics so you can learn more mechanics.  You’re implementing the mechanics so you can implement the mechanics.  In Tetris you’re seeing how far you can get and trying to beat the top score.  In SCGMD4, you want some participation in some good music.  In an RPG you want to hear more of the story.  But in BTR, the exact same game has been played in the exact same way hundreds of times and all you’re doing is retreading the same path as everyone before you.  BTR functions and has a good aesthetic which saves it from Tier Four, but it is firmly in Tier Three for its constant, unyielding requirement of perfection.

Steam link

Chrono Trigger (Completed)

It’s Tier One.  I mean, it’s widely accepted that it’s the best RPG for the SNES and one of the best RPGs ever, so what did you expect?  This review is going to be on the short side (Edit: actually, having finished writing this, maybe it won’t), since almost anything I could say has probably been said before.

Chrono Trigger is a time-traveling adventure that seems to start as a cliched “save the princess”, but quickly becomes “save the world” with the help of that self-same princess.  I actually started this game twice.  The first time I got stuck on a fairly tough boss fight (The Golem Twins) and never finished.  About a year later I picked it up again, but had to start from the beginning because I’d forgotten almost everything.  (If you care, my party both times was Crono, Marle, and Ayla until I got to the Black Omen – where I replaced Ayla with another, spoilerific character)  Here are just a few of the many amazing things about Chrono Trigger:

  • The characters are lovable and distinct.  They start to feel like “your” party as you level them up, and they feel like good friends (for me, like the characters in Wheel of Time do).
  • The plot is interesting and sprawling (in a good way).
  • The world slowly opens up as you progress, giving you both a feeling of wonder and excitement and a sense of growth.
  • There are twelve different endings (depending on how you count).  This is the grandfather of what it meant to have a reactive world.  And it did it successfully – unlike many games today that have a “good” and “bad” (and if you’re lucky, a “neutral”) ending.
  • Meaningful choices are represented through action rather than description.  It’s one thing to be sentenced to death because the game asked you if you wanted to steal a guy’s lunch.  It’s quite another to steal that guy’s lunch because it’s an RPG and that’s just what you do – and then have a character in the game call you on it. (though during my second run I was found 100% Not Guilty)
  • The music is fantastic – this is the only game I have ever not gotten tired of the battle music.  I could listen to every track on this soundtrack for a very long time.  And I didn’t even know you could get the SNES to sound like an electric guitar.

In fact, I have only three real complaints – though two are significant.  From least to most bothersome: some of the quests are obtuse (which happens in practically every RPG).  As an example: there was a quest item I needed to place somewhere for 65 million years.  It get stolen, and you need to find it – but there’s no hint of where to look.  In Chrono Trigger’s favor, talking to NPCs in other circumstances is almost always helpful and the game does a great job of using your past knowledge to help you in future areas.

Inventory management is a real problem, though.  It is both difficult to figure out what something does and difficult to manage a quickly-growing list of items that spirals out of control by the end.  There are advantages to having the right equipment in the right places, but you quickly get tired of keeping such an extensive inventory.  Some screens show you item comparisons for each of your characters, but there is no way to equip an item in those screens or to see what special properties an item has.  It’s a small annoyance, but one that comes up frequently enough to merit mention.

The real problem is the combat.  For the first two-thirds of the game, fights are mostly well-balanced.  But as enemies get more and more special abilities, fights become increasingly based on luck rather than skill.  Late in the game, fights are either a chore that poses no real threat or a fight that may very well kill you multiple times with little warning.  The perfect example of this is the final boss, which incorporates all these problems with the combat.  The final boss has 12 stages.  The first nine are trivial and make you wonder why you had to fight them at all (partly due to stat re-use, rather than stat scaling).  The next two are fairly easy, but are a good challenge.  The final boss stage took me an incredibly long time to beat – through very little fault of my own.  On my first run, I spent half an hour doing absolutely no damage – without realizing it.  Worse, the last save point was before the previous two bosses.  Since I was low on items at that point, I needed to fight them again to even have a chance at beating the final boss stage.

I would trace these problems to two sources: first, percentage-based attacks.  There are several enemies (including the last boss stage) that have magical attacks that deal 50% of a characters current HP.  Some are even worse and deal damage equal to your current HP minus one.  Combine one of these enemies with another high damage one, and it’s entirely possible to get wiped out in a single turn before you have a chance to react.  These attacks make you wonder why the late-game bosses don’t just have a minion do that last HP of damage to kill your entire party.

The second source, related to the first, is gimmicky fights.  Some fights that require unusual tactics are fine – Chrono Trigger does a great job of drawing on past experiences to clue you in on how to fight a new enemy, and can give you a few turns to figure out how to fight it….mostly.  There are just a few too many fights where this breaks down – with the last boss stage, there is no indication that attacking two of the three onscreen enemies is entirely counterproductive most of the time.

By far the worst culprit of this is a side-quest boss called the Son of Sun, which will counter any direct hit with a powerful fire attack.  Instead, you are supposed to attack one of the five flames rotating around the boss, and all but the “right” one will cause a similar fire counterattack.  There is no indication or hint for this.  To top it off, you have about fifteen seconds before the boss shuffles the flames and you again have to guess which flame is the “right” one.  It’s entirely a matter of chance, and is incredibly frustrating to fight.  I willingly admit I only beat this boss through save-scumming.

All in all, though, Chrono Trigger is a fantastic game that I’ll likely come back to for New Game+ (and the other eleven endings).  It does many, many things right – things that even modern games have a hard time replicating.  This game is one of those rare confluences of talent, hard work, and a bit of luck that makes for a fantastically good time.

 

Steam link.  Oh how I wish.

You can get it on Android or iOS, or rip your cartridge to play in RetroArch on anything, including Android.