So let me tell you a little anecdote.

I am a huge fan of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series. Therefore, when I heard that Martin had reached a deal with HBO to make a live action series, I was excited. The series aired last year, to both critical and popular acclaim. As much as I enjoyed the series, however, I was somewhat disappointed.

“But Einskaldjir, you’re disappointed by approximately 100% of everything,” you might fairly, although incorrectly, point out.

Martin himself, however, pointed out the issue (you can find it in his Not A Blog, although you’ll have to do some digging). It’s (relatively) easy to write about a battle between one army of 25,000 men – many of them mounted – and another army of 15,000 men. It becomes quite a problem, however, to depict that battle in live action.

Do you hire 40,000 extras? Probably not. Do you hire several hundred, and then render the rest via computer? Maybe. Or do you simply hire a few dozen actors, and leave the rest of the battle to the viewers’ imaginations. In the end, the first option is prohibitively expensive and impossibly unwieldy, while any other option must balance expense with realism and practicality.

There are other problems as well, aside from issues of scale. Good writing can convey an impressive amount of information in limited space – and space is rarely at premium in a book. Film is, for the most part, limited to the visual and the aural (although creative directors can get a lot out of those two senses). In addition, movies are further limited to approximately two hours, and serials to some finite amount of either half hour or hour long segments. Books are hundreds of pages long, and even “short” books easily fill a two hour time allotment.

All of which explains, I hope, both my disappointment with the Game of Thrones series, and my fascination with text based games. The show was forced to omit scenes, characters, and even aspects of characters (and let’s not get into the unnecessary changes…). A text based game, much like a text based story, can include all of the features a visual based media cannot.

Don’t believe me? Think of this: you can literally emote anything – anything - in a text based game. Whether that’s actually a good thing may be up for debate, but it’s a feature. Or, perhaps only interesting to me, you can more easily interact with the environment: sit in chairs, light fires, heat rooms, anything you can describe can be done. As opposed to actually having to hard code graphically the infinite variations of behavior, you can just describe them – or let the players do so themselves.

Which brings up another point. In text based games, it would be far easier to allow players to create their own spells and abilities, with their own descriptions (dangerous, I know). Sure, you could create spells in Morrowind and Oblivion, and other games, I’m sure, but those spells were highly limited. As in, limited to the point of being mere extensions of effects already existent in the game.

I most assuredly don’t believe text based games should – even if they could, which they can’t – overtake graphical games as the dominant form. I just wanted to advocate that more folks give them a try, and you just might enjoy yourself. Plus, I’d like to think that a text based game revival could influence the next generation of games. We can dream, right?

Of course, more traditional voice acting has been around for quite some time. Ryu and Ken “Hadoken-ed” all over the place in the ’90′s, and the townsfolk in Diablo I all had short little messages before you read their dialogue – I can still hear Deckard Cain and his “Hello!”

These days, as I’m still – still – playing Skyrim, and just recently moved on to play a little Deus Ex: Human Revolution, 100% of the dialogue is spoken, just like in Mass Effect. And I don’t like it.

I know that I read significantly faster than people talk, and I’m almost positive that’s not only normal, but likely just a simple fact. Unless you’re dyslexic or suffer from some other similar disorder, you will read faster than anyone this side of an auctioneer speaks. Therefore, after a while, I grow a little frustrated listening to dialogue that I could just as much more easily read instead.

It’s true that in both Skyrim and Deus Ex – and most any voice acted game – that you can enable subtitles and skip through the voice overs. Unfortunately, Deus Ex seems to skip entire portions of dialogue, fast forwarding to the next words spoken by the other conversant rather than skipping to the next phrase in the dialogue. Highly inconvenient, that.

In the end, the immersion brought by complete voice acting is nice. But it isn’t efficient, in my playing time or in regards to game memory, and in the end I can live without all the voice acting – and, for the most part, would prefer to. Maybe that isn’t the case with everyone else.

Therefore, in a last ditch effort to change your mind, I present the immortal Last Alert. Enjoy.

Image by psygeist via Flickr

I have been face deep in Skyrim ever since it arrived in my ever so eager hairy knuckled man mitts on Christmas morning. Today is a very brief interlude as I come up for air from my explorations in Tamriel.

I have many – so many – thoughts on the game, but as I have still yet to finish Skyrim, I’ll simply state the thought that is most obvious: this is a magnificent game, and deserves recognition as being somewhere on the list of the greatest games of all time. Where, I have no idea, but definitely on the list.

I also want to bellow my approval for one aspect of the game that I’m not sure – literally, I have no idea – if this detail has received the attention it deserved. Each and every location in the game seems to have its own micro-story. Thus, the bandits in the old abandoned mine aren’t simply faceless enemies, but mammoth poachers, or ruthless highwaymen, or, well, just bandits hiding in a cave. If you take the time to sneak around and listen, the bandits, or wizards, or what-have-you almost always have an interesting story to tell. Before you kill them.

And it’s the same throughout the dozens, if not hundreds, of locations in Skyrim. I. Am. Impressed.

I have now fulfilled my civic duty in touting the greatness that is the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Back to exterminating the Silver Hand.

I have a friend who believes that intrinsically all multiplayer games are more difficult (and therefore more worthwhile) than single player games. Furthermore, he also believes that all multiplayer PvP games are more difficult than multiplayer cooperative games.

To an extent, I believe he is correct. The human element adds a level of difficulty generally unmatched by a scripted encounter. Even in regards to a cooperative event, such as a raid, ensuring each player is on the same page provides its own challenge, even if the encounter itself isn’t necessarily all that difficult.

Then, of course, there are human versus human games, like competitive Starcraft, or League of Legends, or any of a dozen FPS Doom Counterstrike clones. Clearly, players learn from their mistakes (some do, at least… eventually), and will adapt new strategies. For the most part, AI encounters are static – once you understand the fight, all you need to do is refine your strategy. Against humans, every encounter is unique.

Taking all of that into account, first of all, I don’t believe it necessarily means multiplayer games are more difficult than single player games. Every game has a learning curve, as does every encounter within a game. Sure, once you’ve figured the encounter out, it’s only a matter of time before it becomes trivial. However, that doesn’t make the encounter easy, it just (may) limit the replay value.

Second, I definitely don’t believe that multiplayer games are more worthwhile than single player games. Perhaps that’s because other players are generally so dumb as to make me want to snort the mercury from an old fashioned thermometer…

Now, on to my second, “tangentially” related point. I think it would be nice if MMO’s not only allowed but actually encouraged different approaches to leveling. The early MMO’s – at least the ones I’m familiar with – essentially forced the player base to party up and grind mobs. That’s how Everquest did it, and that’s how Final Fantasy XI (shudder) did it.

Then, World of Warcraft adopted a single player questing approach to leveling. Apparently it was well received. So well, in fact, that it seems as though every MMO since has followed the same single player questing strategy. And I admit, as I may have made evident above, I’m a fan of single player leveling. It let’s you dodge the idiots. A little.

Now, however, the old EQ approach would almost be novel again. And I know for a fact that there is at least one person – not (just) me – that would absolutely love a modern, refined approach to the EQ system.

So why not create a system that encouraged all types of leveling? Sure, there would be a single player quest experience. But also the find a party and grind experience. And then perhaps a similar, yet distinct, find a party and run dungeons experience. And, of course, the single player grind, as well. And whatever else you could think of.

It could be done. Simply adjust the experience rewards for certain mobs based on the size of the party, granting an experience bonus per party member. Then design zones full of nasty elite type mobs that required a full group, but gave little reward to the solo player.

How would that be different from dungeon running all day long? Well, the dungeons would provide better equipment rewards, but less experience than a party committed to grinding could earn. It’s a delicate balance, but possible.

That said, I’m not completely sure what the payoff would be for the developer. I just like the idea. And sometimes, it’s worth implementing ideas simply because they’re interesting – let the players determine whether the idea is worthwhile or not.

There. Two ideas, posted.

Image by csullens via Flickr

Christmas approaches, which, apparently, means two things. First, I’m – hopefully – about to get a lot of new games, which should last me well into 2012. Second, I’ve been on a new game diet of starvation proportions, to the point where I’ve done some shameful things.

How shameful? I’ve been playing the Everquest II Free to Play and the Warhammer Online Endless Trial.

Ok, honestly, whether this behavior is shameful or not is, of course, not the point (even though it is shameful, of course – these games are sad for a multitude of reasons that would take forever to get through). Instead, it led me to think about pacing.

Pacing? Yes, pacing. As in, the pace at which you progress through the game, where pace includes not only the speed, but also the magnitude of the encounters, among other factors. For example…

So you’ve just finished spending an inordinate amount of time customizing your character, and you appear in the game world for the first time. Ever. Conveniently, an NPC clearly designated as a quest giver stands before you (only to be obnoxiously obscured by a pop up tutorial window explaining the complexities of WASD character movement… sigh).

Your first quest is predictably straightforward – go kill some mundane number of very weak enemies. This quest leads you to another quest – or maybe multiple quests at the same time. And then these quests lead to more quests, eventually leading you to a larger quest hub, where you are given more quests…

And so it goes.

The problem is that there’s no real pacing. Each quest leads immediately to another quest, which leads immediately to another quest, which, of course, leads immediately to another quest. This structure gives no natural opportunity for the player to take an in-game break. Therefore, many players will opt for the out of game break instead.

I doubt this is what the designers had in mind.

It is incumbent on the game designers to craft a flow to the gameplay where players don’t feel inexorably pushed from one (rather meaningless) task to the next. The how of it is, of course, the crux of the matter. It’s not as though a quest can simply instruct the player to explore, or craft, or take screenshots for a while – at least not without perpetuating the cycle of failed pacing.

Interestingly, linear single player games might have an easier time with pacing than their more open ended brethren. Sure, in Skyrim you can go off an explore, sans direction, for a while. But if you’re like me, you’ll end up drawn back to a quest sooner rather than later, as I don’t want to somehow travel past the main story line through my exploration. I figure the game will send me to most of these locations eventually, anyway – when I’m supposed to be there.

Whereas in, say, Call of Duty, the game can intersperse fierce action sequences with relatively benign exploration periods. Especially considering that the linear level structure generally grants the player explicit knowledge of which direction advances the game, linear games definitely have a pacing advantage.

There may not be a definitive answer to the pacing issue faced by open world and massively multiplayer games. However, I’m confident that the deliberate step by step quest method is not the answer. I’m doubtful that the periodic overflowing quest hub is the answer, either.

My suggestion? Let’s backtrack a bit towards the (original!) Everquest method, to the MUD method, where a game drops the player into the world with a knife, a kind word, and a pat on the rear… and maybe an obscure directive that killing rats near the docks is a good way to prepare yourself for heroic adventures. As long as you’re patient. Very, very patient.

Just so we’re clear, I’m not saying let’s go all the way back. Just… a few steps in that direction. It certainly would be a refreshing change, at the least.

Hmm. Unfortunately, the strike through font doesn’t work on the title line. Oh well.

While there are many impediments to advancing through a video game, a relative mainstay is character death. And while mind-boggling puzzles and physics-bending platform sequences may cause more frustration, death tends to be a bit more of a setback. Or more permanent.

Or is it?

Let’s step back for a little perspective. In my youth, most games limited you to a finite – and paltry – number of lives. A single death would generally force you to return to a checkpoint, if not restart the level entirely. Once you used up all of your lives, game over. Time to restart… this time from the beginning of the game.

Time progressed, games grew more sophisticated, and death penalties evolved. Some games would accept passwords, others would simply save your progress. The saved game has become a staple of most every modern game, no longer limited to RPG’s and their ilk.

Suddenly, death couldn’t possibly force you to restart a game from the very beginning.

Let’s fast forward a bit. Most modern games use a system involving either the ability to save your game at any time, specialized save points, checkpoints, or a combination thereof. MMO’s, however, are a bit different.

The earliest MMO’s penalized your character heavily for death. Modeled after MUD’s, upon dying, your character would lose experience based on level, possibly even losing enough experience to drop a single level, or more(!). Clearly, this type of penalty could cause epic levels of frustration.

Thus, when World of Warcraft released with its death penalty as a mere loss of experience on top of a corpse run, it was something of an admittedly very small, very contained revolution. Death had become an inconvenience, as opposed to an all out disaster.

Now, Star Wars: The Old Republic has taken WoW’s approach and run with it… then sprinted a few miles more. As of now, every class – EVERY CLASS – can resurrect fallen comrades. Which actually, as it turns out, isn’t much of a big deal, because you can simply choose to resurrect yourself once you’re out of combat… which is pretty much immediately during solo play. Oh, and, in case it wasn’t clear, you resurrect precisely at your death location, so there’s not even a corpse run.

Oh, you’re invisible for a few seconds upon resurrection, so you can escape to a less hostile region.

I feel completely comfortable in stating that there is absolutely no reason to fear death in SWTOR. None at all.

SWTOR is an extreme example, and I hope it remains so for the foreseeable future. A game without penalties is no game at all. It’s just an interactive, and lengthy, film. But you’ll get to the end, never fear. How could you not?

I’m not going to bemoan the lack of challenge in today’s games. Frankly, I’ve already done that before, but more importantly, games provide challenges differently these days, through achievements, hard modes, or other completionist type activities. However, when a designer consciously removes one of the most tried and true penalties from a game, well, that’s an issue.

Especially considering just how much you can do with character death currently. I hesitate to bring it up, as the game currently stands as the flagship of the Look at Me, I’m Difficult fleet, but take Demon’s Souls: yes, the game uses a checkpoint system, but it also implements flesh and blood form and  spirit form gameplay. I understand that Dark Souls utilizes a similar system, as well.

Or, if memory serves, Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver. Again, death sends you to a spirit realm, from where you must escape in order to advance through the game.

Video game character death penalties (extra careful phrasing, eh?) neither need to be nor should be overly punitive. However, the penalty should exist; otherwise, what are we even playing for? So let’s get creative, and implement some penalties that are both fair and, possibly, maybe, hopefully, entertaining.

The thing about Diablo II, though, is that you can’t exactly just load up and play. No, instead I first ran a couple of Google searches on builds before checking out gamefaqs.com and the somewhat ironically named Diablo III Wiki (although, it does have Diablo III information in addition to an outstanding DII library).

I’ve grown tired of my endless run of Hammerdins (all of which die around level 50 due to my own incalculably stupidity), so I searched for a more interesting build, quickly settling on the Avenger. After reading a few guides, I’m good to go… needing only to grind out 60 or so levels before my build comes into its own.

Which brings me to Diablo III, where you can, it seems, simply load up and play. There’s no stat allocation, there’s no skill point allocation… there’s really no allocation at all (too bad, since allocation is a such good word). I’m not saying that DIII has completely expunged all character planning strategy from the series – I’m just saying it just feels like it.

And that, I believe, truly is a shame.

Regardless, I can’t quite fathom the fascination a rather vocal but indeterminately sized portion of the gaming populace has with PvP.

Want some examples? Just cruise the World of Warcraft forums, or the Diablo III forums, or Star Wars: The Old Republic Beta forums (if you can). Or Rift. Numerous posts, all related to PvP, in games that as far as I can tell are just not PvP focused.

Do these PvP types drive sales that much? Is the PvP population that large?

Look, I think PvP can be fun. Some of that old school Hillsbrad Foothills world PvP was simply epic. But some of it was excruciating. As was Stranglethorn Vale. And sometimes even Tanaris – the list goes on. Want to pop off a few quests in your hour or so of spare time? Sorry, there’s too many players of the opposite faction hanging around the questing area. Thank you, come again – later.

Of course, world PvP isn’t exactly what we’re talking about here – it’s just a small part of the greater PvP conglomerate, which includes duels, structured team fights, and objective based PvP (and maybe some other stuff that I’m not aware of). All of which, going by any forum of any game, is entirely unsatisfactory and needs to be revamped right NOW.

But here’s the deal. I’m not playing for PvP, and I’m 99% certain that most of these games weren’t designed with PvP as the primary objective. This leads me to two conclusions. First, PvP in games such as WoW, DIII, and SWTOR will always be secondary to the questing/leveling and end game content, and therefore balanced accordingly.

Second, there are games that are entirely focused on PvP – entire genres of them, in fact. MOBA’s like DOTA, League of Legends, and Heroes of Newerth, or FPS’s like Counterstrike and Call of Duty.

I’m not about to tell someone to go play those PvP-centric games. I’ll just politely suggest it. But for the love of Nyarlathotep, Azathoth, and Cthulhu, please don’t infect my PvE content with changes made solely for the benefit of PvP.

I do not care for companions. Which makes it all the more galling that a glut of new – and desirable – games all but force them upon you.

Take Star Wars: The Old Republic. At the conclusion of your introductory zone quests, your first companion joins you on your journey to right wrongs and establish peace throughout the galaxy (or wrong rights and establish dominance, as the case may be). You can, to be sure, dismiss this companion immediately. However, the game is balanced under the assumption that you have a companion aiding you in each encounter.

In addition to SWTOR, Diablo III also utilizes a companion system, although, at least in the Beta, you certainly don’t need your companion in order to accomplish anything. And I believe the same goes in Skyrim – companions are available, but for the most part unnecessary.

Regardless, the very existence of a companion system gets under my skin. First, for roleplaying reasons (that’s right: roleplaying). I like to consider my characters to be mighty heroes, lone bastions of justice holding back a tide of darkness threatening to flood the land (I have a good imagination). The thought that I would want, much less need, a sidekick infuriates me. How powerful can I be if I require the help of some Robin to my Batman? Doesn’t that mean I’m not Batman at all?

As a brief aside, multiplayer is a completely different animal, as are group quests, dungeons, raids, and the like you run into in any MMO. In these situations, my companions are my comrades in omnipotence, banding together to fight creatures that are, uh, more omnipotent than we are.

Now, for the technical reasons. Frankly, if a game is balanced to require a companion, you would think it could be balanced to not require one. My suspicion, however, is that companions exist in order to make up for the deficiencies endemic to any class archetype.

For example, take your standard tanking class. Generically, tanks are long in defense and short – very short – in offense. Therefore, you gift a tank with a friendly damage dealing companion, and suddenly all is right with the world. Or vise versa with your DPS class – grant them a meat shield and send them on their merry way.

If that’s the case, then I call it laziness – which would be inexcusable. However, I’m willing to bet it’s a combination of several factors. I’m guessing not everyone has such a stalwart anti-companion point of view, and, in fact, that most folks are ambivalent, while there are more companion lovers than haters. That fact, taken in concert with easing the burden of solo play balance, is what stuffs us with companions.

As for me? My companions will be taking their ease on board my starship, or in the New Tristram town square, or in whatever tavern they choose in Skyrim. Essentially, anywhere except with me.

1. First and foremost, it’s good to have the Diablo series back. Honestly, I never considered myself that much of a Diablo fan… but I’m clearly deluding myself, as I have had two periods of extensive Diablo II play in the past year alone. By the way, has anyone noticed how unbelievably slowly you walk around in Diablo I? Painful.

2. Taking things a step at a time, the DIII interface is excellent, as you would expect from Blizzard. It’s slightly clunky how you switch between your active characters, but it looks nice and it works.

3. I still don’t quite understand the thought process behind the available character classes. Only the Barbarian returns from the previous Diablo games, and I suppose the Monk from Hellfire… while the new classes are, for the most part, non-archetypical (yes, I do believe I just made up that word).

The Wizard, of course, is a no brainer replacement for the Sorcerer of DI and Sorceress of DII, and plays about how you would expect. The Monk is an odd amalgamation of DII Paladin and, well, a Monk. The Demon Hunter feels like a World of Warcraft Hunter, sans pet, with a lot of Rogue/Assassin flavor – but no combo points.

And then there’s the Witch Doctor. I’m sure there are people out there that love the whole Troll mojo theme in WoW and the jungle shaman theme from Act III from Diablo II. I am not one of those people, and, in fact, I don’t know any of those people personally. What’s so frustrating is that I so dislike the Witch Doctor thematically, while I actually enjoy the class’s in-game gameplay. But the voice, and the hunched over movement, and the obsession with, frankly, goofy abilities that clearly mimic their familiar counterparts annoys me.

4. When I first fired up the Beta, I was struck by how much I felt like I was simply playing more Diablo. To be clear, this was not a positive first impression. However, the more I’ve played the Beta, the more I’ve wanted to play – and not only to play the finished product, but I’ve also been playing more of the Beta itself (it’s a vicious cycle). Therefore, my “just more Diablo” impression turned out to be slightly wrong, as DIII is definitely far more than that, which is a Very Good Thing.

5. Along the same vein, the skill system felt overly simplistic at first glance. No longer do you plan progressions and builds from character creation, nor do you hoard your skill points for 30 levels or so – mostly because there are no skill points. Instead, you gain abilities at preset levels, and assign them to skill slots, which also increase with your levels. Very basic stuff, but after playing for a while, I’ve grown to appreciate how streamlined the new system is. It’s forgiving, which, when you get down to it, is nice.

6. Every damage ability of every class scales with weapon damage (…I think). This is a grand departure from how every game I’ve ever played functions – sure, we’re used to this for the physical damage types, but from casters? It’s odd. Again, however, it works. I also think this helps to balance the game, as now every class must focus on maintaining an up to date weapon. On the other hand, I can’t wait until I see the first Barbarian rage over a Wizard rolling on some beefy great axe.

As a sidenote, I’ve found that, consequently, dual wielding is rather underwhelming as compared to lugging around a hefty two hander. I definitely have not done the math, and I imagine there are exceptions, but with my Barbarian and with my Demon Hunter, the big sticks were the way to go.

Of course, the caster classes are slightly different, as generally their offhand gear would increase damage and their other bonuses beyond that of an equivalent two handed setup. And Monks are also slightly different, as their Spirit Generator abilities cause an extra effect every third attack… Hey, these are early impressions, what can I say?

7. The Diablo III Beta, at least, eschews the wide open zones so common in Diablo II for relatively focused paths from a starting point to your objective. To explain more clearly, think of Act I in Diablo II: the first zones are more are less large rectangles with some walls in the middle. You can follow the road to the exits, or explore the entire zone. In Diablo III, your first experience is walking along a highly constricted path towards the town, and then your first quest takes you along another highly constricted path towards the quest objective.

It’s actually rather refreshing. Of course, one, this is just the Beta, and two, even in the Beta, there is at least one relatively wide open area akin to a DII zone.

8. From my experience, the area of effect/multi-target abilities are either absolutely necessary or somewhat overpowered – I’m not sure which. Regardless, it feels as though the game doesn’t really start until your character receives his first AOE ability (which for Monks isn’t until level 8, sadly).

Considering that Diablo games have always pitted your hero against a veritable horde of undead, demons, and worse, I suppose this only makes sense. Somehow, though, it almost feels a little sad. I think I was traumatized by AOE spam in Wrath of the Lich King.

9. The crafted gear from the Blacksmith is absurdly superior to any gear I’ve found in the wild, with the possible exception of the rares dropped by the Skeleton King. The crafted gear is so much better than I can’t help but wonder if the Blacksmith will receive an overhaul before release.

10. And lastly, the Auction House. First, the interface isn’t quite as friendly as the WoW Auction House, at least not yet. As in, you can’t just type in an item and search. Instead, you have to navigate various drop down menus, with very few opportunities to type specific criteria at all. That said, I expect the Auction House will evolve over time.

Unfortunately, at this point it’s difficult to get a grasp on prices, as Blizzard gave each Beta tester 50 Blizzard Bucks (Schrute bucks?) for testing purposes. Frankly, I can’t imagine these crumby low level items going for $5.00 a piece once people are no longer using monopoly money… but we’ll see.

I haven’t yet had the chance to test the gold (read: not real money) Auction House. I believe that as of now it is limited to the Friends and Family Beta. I imagine the Auction Houses will mirror one another, but that may not be the case.

Fin.