But the announcement of Shadow of the Eternals feels like a direct challenge to me and to those of us that admire Eternal Darkness so highly. As if after all our years of bleating for any sort of followup, we are now challenged to put our money where our mouth is.

Now the day has finally arrived, it’s left me feeling distinctly uncomfortable though.

Eternal Darkness nostalgia as a tool

Any crowd-sourcing attempt to generate funds relies on an element of trust. This is evident in any equivalent Kickstarter project. I’ve been asked frequently upon the announcement of Shadow of the Eternals if I trust Precursor Games with my money. Fans of Eternal Darkness are left to wonder if proof of concepts and videos are enough given the history of the team and the complexity regarding Precursor’s creation.

While I agree the episodic format does suit the narrative structure of Shadow of the Eternals in some way, the project has probably been justified in this way in order to minimise the risk and cost of development, it’s not likely to be about the narrative structure at all, without wishing to be too negative. I’m not thrilled with many examples of episodic game content, but that’s just my personal preference talking.

What I’ve seen of the game so far seems to retread the path of Eternal Darkness homage too carefully. In its demo I recognise moments from Eternal Darkness in a way that almost disappoints. Concepts, sounds and scenes lifted straight from the original game rather than building on the ideas it inspired in any measurable way. Hints of moments that look exciting or promising, brushed away by another detail too close to what I know already.

This repetition contradicts my adoration for Eternal Darkness in some ways. Some people would be content with more of the same with its spiritual successor. I worry that Shadow of the Eternals will rely too heavily on the nostalgic content of Eternal Darkness rather than the potential of how the ideas it inspired could be expanded on further.

Can Shadow of the Eternals really capture what made Eternal Darkness so great?

It wasn’t so much of the psychological horror elements of Eternal Darkness that I really enjoyed (such as the much-lauded sanity effects) it was actually the unique story telling method. The idea of story as legacy, told in relay. It was all about messages and warnings passed through history from character to character. The moments that broke the fourth wall to use the player as the vessel for the narrative were also particularly dazzling.

This is why the premise of Shadow of the Eternals on paper is intriguing, even if it the idea has been a little tainted unintentionally. Interestingly, Nintendo still hold the original IP rights to Eternal Darkness, so it remains to be seen quite how much of the original title’s concepts can realistically be filtered through, and how much will have to be recreated from scratch, I imagine  it’ll pan out to be a game laden with a reliance on knowing references, and fit for purpose renaming conventions, but I only have what I’ve seen so far to go on.

This whole idea boils down to brand recognition, by name checking Eternal Darkness, Precursor Games have opened up their title to the intensity of fan fervour, by distancing themselves from their previous employer they alert the attentions of those same devotees who grow quietly suspicious of a good concept soured by a lack of explanation of how this all this came to be. A very tricky combination to conquer.

The post The conundrum of Shadow of the Eternals appeared first on Pioneer Project.

Online gaming has eroded much of the need to do this now of course, but I still think where you live has an important bearing on how successfully you can enjoy your hobby.

My local area

I concluded pretty quickly in my teenage years that the area that I live in (Gloucestershire, UK) is not a great one for video games. This is my opinion of course, but the experience I’ve had of living here for the past two decades confirms that.

Meeting other like-minded people that play games, and being able to play with them locally is pretty simple in a very built up place or city, but in a rural of sub-urban place like where I live, I feel vastly outnumbered by people interested in other things.

When I briefly lived in a city – my ability to find other like-minded people was much easier, and there were better and more densely populated facilities for us to meet and play games. There were regular game nights at local pubs and bars, or retro days run by enthusiasts.

These days I struggle to find anyone with more than a passing interest in games in my immediate vicinity. This hasn’t proved a huge problem, it’s simply forced me to develop other interests and pursue the social channels of those, but sadly has meant that I too am forced to use the internet to wax lyrical about games in a way that isn’t going to bore the circle of people who live around me.

In fact when Game UK has its problems on the high street I was not (and am still not affected) by those store closures. I didn’t have a Game here in the first place, and seeing one means travelling to another city or town.

The consequence of not feeling welcome

While gaming isn’t a niche, it certainly feels like one around here, even though I know more than enough people that are willing to support video games retail and events in this area, no ones prepared to create or sustain anything.

There is one independent game shop in my town (there used to be two more, but they both closed long ago), and while it is good for pre-owned titles, getting hold of brand new games remains an ongoing problems. Truly, I have to travel further afield for a good independent shopping experience.

This is where the internet comes in again as a lack of decent video game retail in my town has forced me to do all of my games shopping online too – taking my money out of the local economy and perpetuating the problem.

Not only that but shopping online requires planning and care, if there’s a game I am likely to need on a certain day I have to pre-order to be certain that I will get it in time. Plenty of people will complain about pre-order but it’s a lifeline for me when a rare title is released.

I can travel to one of the many other independent games shops in another cities and towns around me, but that just repeats my desire for wanting a good one here, despite there not really being much of a market for it locally.

A in-game example: Ni No Kuni

In writing about my experiences of trying to enjoy games in a local area that doesn’t support it, I am reminded of the idea of two worlds in Ni No Kuni. Motorville (the quiet, peaceful almost bland suburbia) where the game originates, and it’s other, more fantastical world full of magic and intrigue.

Enjoying the settings of both worlds meant suspending your disbelief a little, and embracing the poetic licence of numerous RPG tropes; the young, pure-hearted hero on a journey, destined to combat all problems, a hidden magic power they were unaware of.

This example reminds me of my desire for a more enriched, video game-filled town, with thousands of other local gamers around me, yet I find myself stuck in an real-life equivalent of Motorville, as I crave a simplistic, yet busier gaming horizon. Ironically then, it is still the internet that adds that other needed dimension to my gaming world. The perfect gamers location doesn’t often exist, and forces me and many others to travel and mingle to find like-minded people in the most unusual of places.

I love where live, it’s a vibrant and eclectic place, but there’s no escaping the fact that it largely snubs my biggest passion and interest.

The post Is where you live a good place for your video game hobby? appeared first on Pioneer Project.

Back when I started gaming, every title was a little tricky. Most developers had a penchant for making you guess concepts or telling you very little. It encouraged us to experiment, share and spread rumours in a way that’s been totally fragmented by the rising popularity of the internet.

What I find interesting though is how players are using their patience and experience from one difficult title to return back to another series they’ve previous written off. Using the knowledge patiently gathered from other titles has been seemingly useful for returning to a game like Monster Hunter, which has developed a bit of a legacy for being hard to start and tricky to master.

I don’t see Monster Hunter as a particularly difficult game, but it certainly becomes one in its later stages. What’s interesting then is that it’s the introductory stages of the game that puts most of its intended new audience off the series.

One of gamings best kept secrets

On the face of it Monster Hunter has a bit of a PR problem. On the one hand many people think that it’s comparable to Pokemon. Upon further exploration since it’s PSP days, it’s developed a bit of a reputation for being difficult to play, hard to get into and slow to start.

This idea in particular can be hard for the existing Monster Hunter community to relate to. Capcom can be notoriously bad at explaining how the game works to new audiences, because it understands that the target group for the game understands it completely and doesn’t need to be troubled by tutorials for an engine they know inside out.

This is where games like Dark Souls come in. That game (and it’s predecessor) was the best explanation of the sentiment that Monster Hunter started many years prior. The concept of experience and failure within a game teaching you lessons about how to progress. Problems and enemies around every corner. Maps to be memorised, NPCs to figure out.

It’s a very old school chapter of game design that many subsequent developers are trying to emulate. Yet for many of us Monster Hunter remains one of gamings best kept secrets. It’s been preaching these design decisions chapter and verse since its launch on the PS2 back in 2004. It’s obviously popular in Japan, but still regarded as somewhat of a niche title in the West.

For some reason it’s a title not performing quite as well as it could be, simply because of a misguided reputation alongside rumours and intrigue about what it contains. These are very concepts that drew so many new Demon’s and Dark Souls players in, and perhaps what’s ignited a surge in Monster Hunters popularity this time around.

What you learn now will stay with you forever

So just as many Demon’s Souls players found they could digest Dark Souls more easily due to their knowledge of Demon’s, much of this same audience is experiencing Monster Hunter with that understanding of what this type of game is trying to accomplish, inspiring many to continue progressing through a title that seemed too impossible before.

The design decisions made by Monster Hunter seem quite obtuse and garish at first. The combat seems slow and unresponsive, the animations that your character is forced into in order to heal seems drawn out. Hopefully the gaming communities refined knowledge of these very purposeful choices in game design will come to fruition this time around.

Monster Hunter turns its back on the conventions settled on by so many other adventure or role-playing games. Instead it settles on a “what you learn now will stay with you forever” mantra. Learn how to play Monster Hunter and you take on each new title in the series with added confidence. You’ll best a tricky foe with the same equipment as someone starting fresh and beat it faster and more competently. You’ll even learn to challenge new foes by observation, patience and time, and not with health bars.

Perhaps the burgeoning Monster Hunter community has encouraged more new hunters this time around too. Seemingly the launch of the newest title is the best time to start and I’m pleased by the numbers of new hunters who are stepping forward and finally get what Monster Hunter is trying to do. Interestingly many gamers are inspired by the idea that they can progress through Monster Hunters occasionally impenetrable starting hours by tackling it together. This is the same sentiment that created the almost viral spread of Demon’s Souls import success, and the news that copies of the game on both 3DS and Wii U are subject to shortages is promising. Whether or not Monster Hunter can continue to captivate my immediate gaming circle in the way that it has in the past few weeks remains to be seen.

Monster Hunter’s future

It’s hard not to get excited by the positive reception that Monster Hunter is receiving of late, but I’ve seen it many times before, first with Monster Hunter Tri’s launch (supported by a genuinely concerted effort on Capcom’s part to properly market the game) and with Monster Hunter Freedom Unite‘s run for its money as the most complete Monster Hunter to date.

What will really distinguish if Monster Hunter has truly shaken off the misconceptions people have about it is if this momentum continues past it’s launch window and into the quieter summer months and beyond. Part of this may be fuelled by the series finally supporting cross region play in American and European regions properly for the first time. As a long-time hunter however, the ongoing strength of the community is how I will continue to mark its success.

I wish new hunters fresh to Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate every success, and as somewhat of a veteran of the series now I hope it continues to capture the imagination of many more new hunters. After all there’s no better time to start.

The post Has Monster Hunter finally shaken off its reputation for being tricky? appeared first on Pioneer Project.

I have started Panzer Dragoon Saga at least once before this occasion where I actually completed it – this time the nostalgia from a mere two years ago was enough to propel me through the game.

Ironically, I last time I attempted to play Saga was in a period of recovery following surgery, my recollection then was that it was compelling game, worthy of the praise I had seen piled on it for many years, but something was missing. Tired from surgery, wracked with pain, it wasn’t the game I needed, it was too subtle, too gentle in persuading me to continue.

Understatement as power

The real message of Panzer Dragoon Saga is nuance, that is perhaps why it is so difficult to really appreciate over a decade after it’s original release. Unlike it’s contemporaries (such as Final Fantasy VII) Saga is a game of understatement, and that’s no bad thing.

Most of the game is spent exploring the game world on the back of your dragon. The gameworld is quiet and brooding, mottled with splashes of pale colour, and dotted with surrealist landscapes, all complimented by the game’s quietly powerful soundtrack.

One thing you notice immediately is the apparent lack of people. As such the game feels very lonely, and this is a deliberate choice on the part of Team Andromeda. The sense of excitement you experience when discovering another person in Saga’s beautiful but painfully barren world is palpable. This experience really lends itself to this RPG experience only lent to Panzer Dragoon once. So each NPC feels more important, more necessary to the story. I found myself hanging on their every word unlike any other RPG.

Gentle pacing

Panzer Dragoon Saga’s theme of isolation, combined with this rarity strikes the perfect tone. Playing it all these years after its release at a time when everyone was focused on the New Year period felt as though I had walked far off the beaten track. That I had a link with all the people that has sought this game out like myself and stuck with it far past it’s quiet opening, far past its moments of visual grandeur, which does still have the power to impress.

Saga sets a deliberate pace that might be too slow for some, but this is only so it can catch you out with the payoff towards the end of the game. I haven’t enjoyed an ending so thoroughly  since completing Xenoblade Chronicles. The very best gaming endings aren’t just the pay off of the story, but actually linger with you weeks after the game has been completed, and it tinges me with sadness that many people won’t be able to experience Saga’s spectacular finish.

Saga’s powerful themes

It’s rare that I find the inspiration to continue with a RPG that still employs a random battle system. This is one of the moments (other than moments when Edge is on foot) that hints at the games age. However the battle system goes immediately changes from competent to endlessly enjoyable, as you experiment with completing battles quickly for better ratings, experience and items, and determining the best position for your dragon to move in real time around your enemies.

The bond that you build up with your dragon is worth a mention too. As your longest companion through the game (starting with your ability to name him). This games starts as a story of friendship, but belies something more powerful.

The sense that this is something you have experienced before – particularly if you have played the two previous Saturn Panzer Dragoon games is palpable. This is folded into the narrative by the indelible dream-like quality of the game, a sort of hazy sentiment that carries through each carefully crafted scene and landscape. The pacing of this game also nods of a lucid dream particularly through the freedom of flight.

This is supported by the ending of the game too, which reveals a richer thread to the narrative that makes your subsequent memory of the game more humbling as you spin through each exciting realisation in turn.

Gliding over landscapes

So is Panzer Dragoon Saga deserving of all the high praise it has received in the years following its release? In all probability yes – if viewed through the careful lens of the time it was made. Looking back it is an extremely revolutionary game, it left an impression on me for another reason though.

I am now five years into a chronic illness. The optimism from that promising surgery back when I last attempted Saga is mere vapour. I am more tired than ever, and the fatigue has an odd effect on my brain.

Each time I sit down to play or write about a game, I left its finishing screen feeling empty-headed. Sometimes games can take us back to a moment in time, through their gameplay, their music. Their quality. And Saga did this, it took me back to that moment of recovery back in 2010, when I still had hope about my illness.

As such it has been my immense pleasure to play, despite all the pomp and noise from other games, it was this quiet, almost sombre experience that reminded me exactly why I was so inspired to start discussing video games back in 2009 upon completing this website.

Saga’s patient, impassive glides over landscapes, water and its breathtaking technicality reminded me to walk off the beaten track a little more often, to find joy from experiences that many others have moved on from. To enjoy the rich tapestry of our gaming history rather than just our gaming present.

The post The narrative landscape of Panzer Dragoon Saga appeared first on Pioneer Project.

This is because the primary audience for Monster Hunter in Japan play plays completes most of their hunting sessions locally. I’d agree that is the optimum way to play that particular game, but not everyone gets that opportunity.

Online play was touted on the Wii U version as a bit of an afterthought, a concession to a Western audience who had become used to playing the series online since the popularity of Monster Hunter Tri (and the original Monster Hunter on the PS2 long before that).

My hopes were not high about Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate having region-free online play (particularly since Monster Hunter Tri didn’t), but it has led me to question the culture of region-locked online play when it’s considered an industry standard on any other hardware.

Supposed technical limitations

No reasons have been given about why cross-region play has been avoided for this version of Monster Hunter, but I suspect the following it’s due to a combination of connection speed and the culture of communication.

Monster Hunter is a game requiring precise movement and reaction, timing is indeed key, and particularly at higher levels can mean life or death. A good connection is important but certainly not the to the degree needed for a competitive FPS game. Contrary to some hunters I have spent an extensive amount of time playing Monster Hunter Portable 3rd with the Japanese Monster Hunter community, connection speed has seldom been a problem.

I propose then that this decision may have been made to make the issue of communication between different regions that much easier.

Not only would cross-region play need more robust servers able to make numerous connections from hundreds of different locations, but this sort of online play would need some communication tools. Auto translate features that a Japanese audience wouldn’t need and wouldn’t be considered for their local version.

Incorporating these features would mean localisation for several different languages needed to be inherent in all versions of the game, in order to allow people to collaborate easily. This is before looking at the issue of voice chat, which is increasingly common.

If auto translate and communication between regions is to be taken seriously, it needs to be considered from the ground up as part of a games inception. Sounds too much like hard work? I’d like to propose another option.

How global play games can work without communication

Being a gamer in Europe, many of the games I have played online over the years have been with people I cannot understand. Be it in French, German, Spanish, Italian or Japanese. Has this hampered my gaming experience? If anything experiencing a game with a completely different audience has broadened it.

The closest sensation I can equate it to is playing Journey – when normal communication methods are removed, people find other ways to display or describe what they want to say. Be it singing notes in a pattern or drawing hearts in the snow.

Gamers generally in my experience don’t mind someone who cannot communicate or understand their language. This is overpowered by the intrinsic need to play. People only mind if you are competent at your chosen game, and if you make an effort to gesture to thank someone or praise them at the right time, and most of these concepts can be covered by in-game gestures, simple English or emoticons.

Play a game you love with someone else you cannot speak a word to and gamers find a way to use their own in-built knowledge of the game to make anyone who cannot speak their native tongue feel included.

Isn’t the entire point of the internet to connect people? Boxing us into historical gaming regions breaks up those of us who have connected with people outside of our own country. Perversely we find ourselves in situations where we can talk together entirely freely online, but cannot experience certain video games together.

Cross region collaborative games can work

I’ve spent a good amount of time experiencing the very best examples of cross-region and auto translate support. Phantasy Star Online is the yardstick by which all my other collaborative games are judged against and sadly for Capcom it managed cross-region support, collaborative play and auto-translate back in 2000 and on dial-up no less.

Crucially it’s symbol chat experience allowed people to create their own ways to celebrate or warn people by using cards and sounds to display concepts or help. Interestingly it also had optional region-based servers for people who preferred to play with people from their country, or in their own language.

For the most part though people mingled, for the short time the Dreamcast and later Gamecube versions were really alive it really felt like a universal game, a melting pot of language and play.

Final Fantasy XI took things a step further, as a party of six adventurers were always needed to complete missions or defeat monsters. Auto translate in this game was robust enough for you to have simple conversations with someone, highlighted to show you were using this option, and automatically translated into the language of all the other players around you. It was this system that allowed me to not only party, but understand and thank the numerous Japanese players I partied with over the years in the game.

Perhaps next time?

With Capcom working with Nintendo to host the online play for this game, either party could have made the decision to allow cross region play in Monster Hunter for the first time, they could have done this easily by setting aside a few ships specifically for multi region play, but for whatever reason they didn’t. I only hope this is a mistake they don’t make again.

The post A plea for more online cross region play appeared first on Pioneer Project.

Many children my age had favourite toys, or imaginary friends. Things they adored, that came alive with their own unique understanding.

As a girl growing up with rapidly emerging technology in the 80s, video games were mine.

Those early days

Games back then required more than a little imagination. Those hazy shapes on the screen that were meant to represent people, or vast buildings, or the tiniest item. Not everything was particularly clear. You bought lots of second hand games, you traded games with friends, you didn’t always have the manual or the context for the game you were playing. Picking up a video game then required a little lateral thinking, as few things were obvious.

The only thing that was verbatim was the sense to experiment and discover, to share, compare and learn by doing. These old, almost nostalgic gaming traits are the biggest gift that gaming has given me. They are the tools I have carried with me into adulthood. As a child I saw a beautiful magic in gaming, as I got older I wanted to understand how my consoles and computers worked, how they were made. Video games were the first things to ignite a spark of imagination in my very young mind. Many things came after, but it was that first, very powerful feeling that forged me through the years to come.

Even back then I remember being enraptured by the interactively gaming posed, the promise of what would only improve and get better. I became even more fascinated when I realised that not everyone shared this view – that my parents and siblings found the process confusing or bewildering. This same galvanising feeling of inspiration protected me each time my love of video games was misunderstood, or each time I failed in a game. Video games did look basic back then, but they were also much more difficult. Both of these concepts developed my youthful patience.

I have and always will find it liberating for this reason. As a child video games were profoundly personal experience, a puzzle, an oddity, a secret. It was always seen in that way by others, but never by me.

Gaming and how it’s shaped my identity

What’s telling then is how little has changed from my origins with gaming. I face many of the game prejudices from my peers about my decision to play games. Back then this a moral panic about a young child playing games that might be violent or deemed a waste of time. Secondarily I faced criticism for spending time on what was deemed to be very much a male past-time, rather than the more obvious activities expected from my gender.

These are still subjects I am grappling to improve awareness and understanding of as an adult.

Crucially back then gaming was relegated very much to those young minds who has the patience and energy to bear with this new interactive medium. My parents and other adults complained back then that gaming was too hard for them to understand, the barriers to entry too high. They still use this same argument many years later. Interestingly it was with a young, and open mind that I first turned to gaming. Free from the worries and prejudices of those around me. No one taught me, I found a way because I wanted to.

As such I’ll never really understand the argument that gaming is hard, and it really isn’t that much easier for young mind to learn, it was just easier for my younger self to be engaged by video games as a medium rather than terrified by it. I now find myself with the means and knowledge to verbalise that epiphany I had all those years ago. Something new isn’t something to be afraid of, and that certainly applies to video games.

Gaming gave me confidence

So gaming inspired a life-long turn against the tide. The streak of my personality that asked questions. It encouraged a young mind not to rot, but to think more creatively and experiment.

Ultimately it was gaming that inspired a life-long love of computing and technology and my career in web development. Gaming helped me to appreciate that it was a hobby every bit as valid as any other way to spend time. A progressive and social medium. It’s not perfect and we certainly have a long way to go as a community, but it’s helped me to develop a way of thinking and adapting to change that few other hobbies could have.

Above all though it’s made me happy. Gaming has given me more pleasure and joy than anything else I have tried, and all from a flippant decision all those years ago to try out something society had told my young mind I wasn’t allowed, or wasn’t for me.

This post was written for the Critical Distance Blogs of the Round Table. This months theme was origins.

The post The impact of my first experiences with gaming appeared first on Pioneer Project.

The days where this normally happens now are on days where I’m tired, swamped with commitments, and sometimes (just sometimes) an interactive medium seems too much like hard work. On days like this video games becomes another mountain to climb rather than an avenue to let me unwind.

It is very much a symptom of adulthood, not only finding the time to play games, but sometimes it goes as far as finding the energy to be inspired by them.

Days where I lack focus

I can’t dabble with games in the way I used to when I was a child. I’m simply unable to indulge in wiling away hours playing and experimenting in excited calm (like I used to). Often my gaming sessions now are very short and very focused, towards the end of the day when I am most tired and have the least patience.

As such the limited time I have to play games has a greater chance to frustrate me in some small way. The time limit renders me unable to make a great deal of progress with a game that needs more care, attention and time that I can perhaps provide that day.

I almost always turn the corner on feelings like this, but it’s important to talk about those days where no game seems to sate me. I’ve used Tombi as an example to illustrate this update. Not because it’s a bad game (it’s actually a favourite of mine). Although this month of gaming indifference has morphed it from a source of total joy and into one of frustration. As such it sums up the dangerous result of my temporary exhaustion with gaming nicely.

Tombi is a game I was highly excited to finally own a proper copy of, a games whose arrival I anticipated for years, whose genius has been partially ruined by my temporary (and perhaps) seasonal disinterest in games.

This feeling will pass and I’ll find a reason to get excited about gaming again (in a few weeks or less) but in the meantime I am pushing onwards through the game hoping the spark will leap back soon. I am certain it will because it is a game I have had the pleasure of playing at least once before.

A tired frustration

It seems almost too easy to blame the games we play on days like this for our lack of focus and commitment. However we are equally responsible for the discontent, and the lack of focus. It’s also really easy for others to dismiss such feelings away by encouraging ourselves to try another game.

I personally find when I feel like this that I carry this feeling into every game I attempt to play. Turning even the most precious and appreciated game against me like some sort of horrible mirror.

So a vicious circle builds where I can’t progress past these feelings. I’m fearful to leave games on a bad moment as this makes it harder to return and try again. During these “push on through” moments, my precious gaming time instead becomes a frustrating exercise in time lost and lack of progression.

While I often have a reason to be frustrated about an aspect of my time with video games, I’m frequently reminded of how beguiling gaming is, how quickly it can change my mood, swing me back and forth between adoration and scorn. I take my (rare) moments of disinterest in gaming as one of the few negatives I identify with the pastime.

Part of this is down to the wealth of games we have now, a lack of time and patience from the pressures of adult life, but also how spoilt we can be as gamers. Demanding a good experience as if it were a right rather than a privilege.

I’ve talked about how chronic illness has forced me to use video games as a coping mechanism, now it seems apt to talk how it’s building a sense of resentment on the days where I am sick and video games provide no respite. There are days I resent games for not helping me to escape from illness. However I do feel guilty for expecting them to do this, as I start to use them to cover up my own poor health and inadequacies.

More often than not though these feelings are an indication that I need to take a break from gaming for a couple of weeks and come back to it bright-faced, because games will always excite me and this temporary loss of how they do, just serves to remind me.

The post Sometimes gaming is too much like hard work appeared first on Pioneer Project.

Both Borderlands 1 and 2 succeed in creating a very well-realised sense of place. Borderlands 2 builds on this idea, by creating memorable and heartfelt links back to the first games setting, allowing the player to go back and explore how the game world has changed.

I call the feeling this provokes, location nostalgia.

A memorable example

There’s something really special about returning to locations from previous games. Particularly where a significant amount of in-game time has passed. The times where this is most effective is when a number of real life years have passed also. Say the difference in time between the original game and its successor. The most memorable experience I have of this revolutionary location nostalgia is inadvertently discovering the ruins of Nupraptor’s Retreat in Soul Reaver.

The retreat itself is a very memorable building. Unmistakable to any old fans of the Legacy of Kain series. In Blood Omen Nupraptor resides in a huge skull resting at the top of a waterfall. It’s an awe-inspiring moment in the game, as you reach the jawbone of this massive skull (while playing as the vampire Kain) peering out of the enormous glass windows that are its eyes. You go there to seek revenge for Kain from one of the Guardians of the pillars who requested the murder that led to Kain’s damnation.

What makes this location even more impressive is finding the fallen ruins of this skull many hundreds of years later in the sequel – Soul Reaver. The skull has fallen from the resplendent perch it once sat at, and is the perfect metaphor for the decline of the world of Nosgoth under Kain’s rule. The malevolent rule that you perhaps encouraged through your playthrough of the first title.

Including Nupraptor’s retreat in Soul Reaver was a master stroke. A simple location device which had a broader and massive significance to those lucky enough to experience Blood Omen’s remarkable story at the time. It was just as impressive playing the game in reverse order – with Soul Reaver being the first Legacy of Kain game that many of us played. I remember the beautiful epiphany I had upon reaching Nupraptor’s Retreat in Blood Omen and realising what it would become. I had seen the future of this game world, seen the devastation my decisions in Blood Omen would reap upon the world, and upon the character of Raziel.

Examples in Borderlands 2

The location reuse in Borderlands 2 was far more subtle, but just as effective. Five years have passed in the game world, and three years since we had played the series for the first time. We’re reminded of what came before partly through interacting with the cast of the last game, but also from the settings of the games last quarter, where you return to the places where your original adventure began.

Borderlands 2 rewards those lucky to have experienced the first game fully by easing them back into the starting areas of the first game – including the Arid Badlands and Fyrestone. Veterans of the series can see how these areas have deteriorated or changed under Hyperion rule.

You see Piss Wash Gully where you first grabbed a vehicle, and did your first vehicle jump (now surrounded by a purple slag lake). You return to the site of the Fyrestone shops (now closed and abandoned). You return to T.K Baha’s house to find out more about his background (and find some secrets). You find the original town sign and gate where you defended the original Claptrap from your very first wave of enemies.

It’s a wonderful, nostalgic moment in gaming for anyone who appreciated the first game hugely, and crucially it’s reverence is not completely lost on new audiences. You’re informed of the events of the previous games, by playful nods to 2.0 versions of the bosses that were fought there, or echo transmissions which explain the context of the location.

It’s a perfectly pitched moment, and a fitting conclusion to the narrative ties of the first game. It’s a swan song to both the adventure you’re having now (by its inclusion late in the game) and the adventure you had before. These are the hallmarks of really successful location design, they lodge in the memory and inspire a particular feeling. This feeling is improved by the future and successive nods to those past, great locations.

I’m always impressed by game designers that decide to use this technique, its a nice treat to your existing fanbase, and an encouragement to those new to the series to go back and better understand the references for themselves.

The post Revisiting old places – the art of location nostalgia appeared first on Pioneer Project.

When I’m playing or talking about games online, almost everyone assumes I’m male.

Interesting gender issues

I touched on the possible reasons for this in my Metroid Prime post:

Some male gamers play as female characters when given the opportunity to experience something outside of their normal experience of the world. Confusingly many women gamers like myself play for the opposite reason. To experience our games in an body more akin to our identity, as the “different experience” is often the norm.

So by playing in my preferred body, many gamers still expect me to be male. While this is a liberating choice for male gamers to be able to make, it does enable a certain amount of prejudice against women who genuinely identify as women.

Conversely, some male gamers do not believe me when I state that I am a woman. These moments sway uncomfortably into hints of prejudice.

Some gamers will urge me to shake such slights off. These are normally the same people who don’t have to concern themselves with reality of the wrong pronoun being used to describe them, or the wrong greeting, or even verbal abuse when playing a game. This is all because of me being a “she” instead of “he”. Unfortunately (and sadly so) my presence in games does still (even in this allegedly liberal decade) set a small minority of gamers off into a prepubescent rage*.

Uncomfortable territory

This is despite the fact that online I do everything possible to flag up the fact that I am female. I use feminine sounding names for usernames, I always use female avatars on forums and other applications that require them. I mark myself as female on my profile. I’m certainly not ashamed of my gender, but I certainly know of many women (that because of the reasons above) use the lack of clarity surrounding their gender to decide when (or indeed if) to reveal that last detail of their identity online.

Such is the ultimate irony of this situation. Because many men play as female characters, and because their isn’t any real benefit to revealing your gender online in the context of online gaming, or gaming discussion. All of us – male or female – are damned either way, usually by the lack of character choice. Somehow we’re encouraging these sorts of assumptions about who chooses to play games.

I can certainly understand this. As choosing to speak up and correct someone on their assumption either leads to regret or discomfort for the person that has made the assumption, or a far worse reaction - an escalation into anger or violence.

I choose to speak out (and constantly correct people) because otherwise how else is this community going to know that a very real, and growing percentage of the people they play with or against are women. It should provoke nothing other than understanding and tolerance, not shock or rage.

More issues with female character choice

I suspect some of the reasons for this, is the genuine for men to play using a female character – to tap into that different experience of play. I totally understand and respect their decision to do so, but I wonder if they realise how that decision (inadvertently) makes the playing field that much harder for women.

We need to take the root causes about why these odd assumptions about gender online still happen. Games should have more female characters – but crucially, I’d have to argue against the Borderlands method for separating classes by gender and ask instead that all classes have male and female options. It would make things much easier for everyone, and take a little pressure off women who identify as women, and men who want to play as classes like the siren.

I hope this post vocalises a constructive observation of what I (and many other women who play games) go through on a daily basis. I write only to inform and speak more openly on this topic. As promised in my recent post on prejudice in the gaming community.

* I note with interest, that I have being playing video games longer than the vast majority of people who consider my presence in “their game” to be a problem.

The post When I play online everyone assumes I’m male appeared first on Pioneer Project.

One of the concepts for Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate that’s getting people most excited though is the cross-compatiblity between the Wii U and 3DS versions of the game. While this isn’t a new premise, it’s something we’re seeing more and more of for multiplayer led games.

Cross compatibility and a strong Monster Hunter History

Two other games in the last two years have announced similar handheld gaming support for the console or PC based game. Tellingly the first to do this was Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate’s predecessor Monster Hunter Portable 3rd. It did so for many of the same reasons. To enable simple multiplayer access through the PS3 version of the game and to provide an HD mode to make the original game look and sound better.

For many it’s become the de-facto way to experience that game. While I love Monster Hunter I’m finding it harder to play it single player for long stretches with a handheld. Compatibility between a console and handheld version of the game allows you to experience the best of both worlds. Relaxing with the game at home for the bulk of your journey, and moving the savefile for your handheld version to so you can play the game on the go or experience local multiplayer easily.

While Monster Hunter Portable 3rd (and it’s HD equivalent) didn’t start this idea it provides gamers lucky enough to experience it, with probably the most seamless and easy-to-use online multiplayer experiences since in a Monster Hunter game so far. Crucially it may give some clues for how Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate’s implementation may work too.

Phantasy Star Online versus Monster Hunter

Sega announced that Phantasy Star Online 2 would have cross platform support between the PC and Vita versions. Phantasy Star Online is in many ways the predecessor to Monster Hunter, highlighting an audience of gamers that enjoy a real-time RPG multiplayer experience with cooperation at its core. This is evidenced by the fact that many PSO players took up Monster Hunter as a replacement to PSO and the concepts it pioneered.

PSO later found its stride again through it’s portable versions. However by then Monster Hunter had already exceeded it on handhelds through its strong emphasis on local, cooperative gaming. In essence Monster Hunter took up the mantle that PSO started. In a compelling chapter in the great multiplayer RPG story, it was the Phantasy Star Online series that announced cross-platform play for the masses through its Vita version of PSO 2, despite Monster Hunter implementing it first with Monster Hunter Portable 3rd.

It’s not too surprising that these two series are promoting a similar idea, since they share many of the same audiences. What is interesting is that both developers are using cross platform play as a marketing tool – another reason to buy a 3DS or Vita to support play on the go. This is beneficial to the developer as it also promotes the old mantra of console loyalty.

Because surprisingly, despite a rich history of cross-platform play, historically the idea hasn’t done very well outside of Japan, or is largely associated with niche or unsuccessful titles.

Other cross platform implementations

Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate isn’t the first cross-platform implementation that Nintendo have supported. They tried their own version of it using the Gamecube and Gameboy Advance. This ranged from the odd game (such as Metroid Prime or Animal Crossing) having areas of the game that couldn’t be accessed without a GBA being connected to the Gamecube as another controller, it was also used successfully for map treatments and the display of secret information in games like Wind Waker.

The most extensive support for this system was saved for Zelda: Four Swords Adventures and Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles, where four player multiplayer for these games required each player to have a Gameboy advance plugged into the Gamecube using a special connector. The GBA then served as the controller for the game, showing the players inventory, map or gameplay screens related to them on their own personal screen. It was a neat way to sidestep the issues of local multiplayer RPGs, that often require a lot of information to be shown on one screen, or the other problem of two or more players being tied to the time it takes for another player to organise their equipment.

It was a rare and interesting way to experience these two titles for those that not only had the money and equipment to support this premise, but also the time and investment needed to encourage other friends to experience the game with them. For many though the barriers to entry were too high, and many people didn’t get to play these Gamecube titles as intended, and the technology itself became not much more than an old gaming curio.

This wasn’t the first foray into these sorts of console and handheld connectivity though. Famously both Sony and Sega dabbled with the idea of a memory card (or other peripheral) serving as a mini-game station that was related to the game you were playing. Many Dreamcast games supported this feature through the VMU, better implementations of this include on the original Sonic Adventure game which allowed you to manage and train your Chao outside of the game, then update your game data with the progress made by booting up the game again. Tellingly Sony’s Pocketstation for the original Playstation used a similar idea much earlier on, but never made it outside of Japan.

Different platforms playing together

So cross play has a long, and interesting history. Despite that the examples of its usages are rare, the various implementations were great to experience for those lucky enough to play the games during their limited life cycle.

Recently cross play has had a bit of a revolution. It was briefly left to games like Shadowrun and Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles: Echoes of Time to continue the idea. However Portal 2 has also famously used this model with more notable success, allowing PC and PS3 gamers to play cooperatively with their friends through Steam access.

So Monster Hunter 3 Ultimate will be the most ambitious chapter in the cross compatible platform legacy. Many Monster Hunters look forward to seeing not only this implementation, but how it may determine the cross play future of this series and others.

The post A recent history of cross platform play appeared first on Pioneer Project.

So certain was my belief that it was never going to make it to Europe that I imported a copy from America and started the process of cultivating my very first town. It did finally make it here, but over two years after the American release. That’s actually the normal sort of time for a localisation of a game here, but Animal Crossing was still a complete unknown to a Western audience, a silly but sincere sim game that utterly captivated gamers and non-gamers alike.

How it all started

Such is the power Animal Crossing’s methodical madness that I still have people with far less interest in video games than I recommending it to me, or sharing their accomplishments in game as if it somehow remains gamings best kept secret.

Part of the games success is the now commonplace concepts it popularised. It was many gamers introduction to concepts completely new to a simulation game. Concepts like the real-time clock to positively change and adapter in-game environments or characters. An idea started with games like Seaman and NiGHTS into Dreams, but something that Animal Crossing improved on and used as the core concept for its world.

This is part of the reason that any version of Animal Crossing is a suitable game to return to, something that many of us like to indulge in from time to time. It’s a great example of a game that encourages peaceful responsibility for in-game characters and environments, which in turn captures the imagination of the player. Animal Crossing encourages players to invest their personality, time and care into a carefully-cultivated town of their choosing.

It’s also a great case study of how games can be utterly silly, but crammed full of merit. Animal Crossing is a fine example of humour being used as a narrative tool. Patience is a huge gaming virtue and Animal Crossing’s day-by-day rhetoric sits with this principle nicely.

Crucially Animal Crossing pushes eccentricity as a positive attribute rather than a pejorative. It was sold to us as a gamers game – kooky as they come – straight from Japan, with a sprinkling of Western humour bundled into the localisation. In gaming circles it was chatted about as something people outside of a gaming audience couldn’t and wouldn’t understand.

Instead, it became a beautiful metaphor for how inclusive our pastime is.

On becoming too scripted

Animal Crossing is filled to the brim with whimsy. Its odd (yet relatively) unique method of welcoming, inclusive gameplay became a mainstay. As such the concepts that remarked Animal Crossing as such as intriguing daily play all those years ago, has led to it losing its way a little bit. Its insightful gameplay concepts such as land management, mortgage payments and fossil collections have moved from being dynamic ideas to well-travelled tropes. This have become the concepts we use to describe Animal Crossing now. As if the game has become more about box ticking rather than the revolutionary ideas we fell in love with.

Many of the same elements that made Animal Crossing enjoyable are now making it stale. This is evidenced by core concepts like the tutorial with Tom Nook remaining relatively unchanged since it’s inception here in the West with the Gamecube edition.

There’s a groundswell of ideas that the franchise could have tapped into by now, without defiling the essential ideas that make it so joyfully weird. The key elements such as the bright, stylised art style, the random village with hand-picked inhabitants or the consumerism focused element of decorating and redecorating homes don’t need to be changed, but something does.

Perhaps instead there could be renewed focus on multiplayer. The “city” element in the Wii version of the game was woefully underused. Instead it became a sad hub area for the animals who didn’t live in your town, denying you the ability to recruit animals that you thought suited your town. The last of the unfixed elements of the game (like the characters who visited your village random) are now relegated to the city taking all the mystery out of their appearances.

Instead the city could have been a player-focused area filled with player run shops or activities. Building on this idea, players could also create their own animals, complete with their own defined personalities to share out to others to use and rate. Both of these ideas could build on the ideas of character and world development by simply mixing the boundaries a little more. A lack of new ideas, does sadly sum up what Animal Crossing has become – a tired repetition of what it has done before, rather than the imaginative and inspiring novelty that was truly exciting to experience for the first time.

Learning from what’s gone before

In fairness the formulaic nature of Animal Crossing has always been there. In any addition of the game you start to spot the patterns of its development everywhere. From the way that animals appear and disappear on the same days, or the events that happen on the first saturday of every month. Animals are grouped into broad personality types, which you start to recognise and identify. You start to know exactly how an animal will behave within two pages of their chatter.

The series has become less about an gradual process of evolution and more of a series of well-used and knowing Animal Crossing cliches. Yes every day is still different in Animal Crossing, but repeated play makes it far easier to unravel the mystery behind how the game is put together, not unreasonably this is about the point the core audience can begin to lose interest.

Animal Crossing has lost its way a little, and yet I still return to it for a dose of whimsy every year or so, each time reminds me of what was so remarkable about it that very first time, when I found no patterns in its strange, but very welcome niche.

The post Animal Crossing: How a niche became a norm appeared first on Pioneer Project.

It’s extremely common for a game to feature the first point, it’s normal for a game to consider the second. A game that features both those as well as the third is still sadly rarer than I’d like.

The game of course is Metroid Prime.

A glorious experience

I’ve arrived extremely late to the Metroid series, but what is immediately apparent is Samus Aran such a compelling hero because she is associated with a quiet power, a resolve and tenacity to get a job done. Her brilliant portrayal in the Metroid series over the years (Other M excluded) remarks that her success and strength comes from her skill and experience rather than pre-defined expectations of her character or ability based on her gender.

Being able to play as a female character in any character driven game is always important to me. It aids the process of me getting into the mindset of the game in a way that being forced to play as a male character simply doesn’t enable.

It’s rarer to get this level of comfort when starting a game, I am so used to a male character model being the default in an adventure or FPS game such as this that when the opportunity presents itself, I find myself playing with a sense of elation that wouldn’t be there otherwise.

This may seem particularly strange, especially given the fact that the game is in a first person view. I am spending most of the game looking and experiencing the world through Samus’ visor, seeing the world as she would, with only fleeting glances of her suit and face.

But the idea of being playing a great game, especially one where I am able to play in the “right body” is sublime and is important to me.

Some male gamers play as female characters when given the opportunity to experience something outside of their normal experience of the world. Confusingly many women gamers like myself play for the opposite reason. To experience our games in an body more akin to our identity, as the “different experience” is often the norm.

The problem with the first person view

I suspect that such is the power of Samus’ persona that few would feel uncomfortable playing as her. That said how many first person based games are there where you can play as a woman? Despite the rising popularity of the first person view, a female character model (especially for single player mode) is still not particularly common.

It’s just as well that I have Samus as a guide through Metroid Prime. The game is uncompromisingly difficult at times. I often find myself playing at a level far beyond my comfort zone, as the game stretches and challenges me to be worthy of Samus’ equally uncompromising skill.

I simply wouldn’t have persevered for a character I related to and admired half as much. If I ever need a reminder that I’m playing a game that challenges the norm of this genre I see a flash of Samus’s face every time a missile explodes too close to her, daring me to continue.

After long thought, the only other recent examples of story driven games in the first person perspective I can think of (with female protagonists) are Portal and Mirror’s Edge. Both of these games (along with Metroid Prime actually) are not first person shooter games. Two of them are first person adventures, with the third being a first person puzzle game. While I find it impressive that I can think of three games that circumvent the gender and gameplay norms of the first person view in such a way, I am still saddened that very few true FPS games continue to ignore their female player base, providing male character models exclusively.

Epic games didn’t include the option of female characters in multiplayer until its third iteration of the Gears of War series. Bungie finally provided the option in Halo Reach (but only after making elites playable first in Halo 2). The ability to play as a woman is still missing from the genres two most popular series – Call of Duty and Battlefield.

The only series I can take any long-term pride in is Rainbow Six: Vegas, which has always given me ultimate level of character creation (in its multiplayer) and has done so from the very beginning. Regardless of genre, women have the undeniable need to be able to experience a game in a model matching their gender, particularly if the game is about customisation and bespoke player rewards based on skill.

Metroid Prime has helped to remind me of this fact, and not only that, it’s made me want this option in even more games.

The post Metroid Prime and gender norms in the first person appeared first on Pioneer Project.

I imported Monster Hunter Portable 3rd (and it’s HD equivalent on PS3) at the beginning of this year for just this reason. This was at the peak of a frustrating drought of Western Monster Hunter releases, so the decision turned out to be a favourable one.

Despite the frustration of the release though, if you’ve played a Monster Hunter before, you’ll be right at home, and that’s because of how carefully designed Capcoms seemingly busy interfaces are. Strangely this isn’t something I really noticed until I could no longer read the words – a great litmus test of gameplay usability.

Why play in Japanese?

There are many reasons why this most recent title has yet to reach anyone in the West. The most prominent being the lack of true online support for Monster Hunter Portable 3rd. Many Japanese gamers still prefer to play Monster Hunter’s multiplayer in it’s original format, using cooperative play in person rather than online.

Since I am unable to play online at this current time, returning to Monster Hunter Portable 3rd every week or so (in another language to boot) is an ongoing gaming project (and another example of good old fashioned local cooperative gaming). While I’m aware of the fan-made project to play the game in English. My Monster Hunter partner and I decided from the get-go to play the game as intended.

Helping you visually

I am surprised at how competently we are able to manage playing Monster Hunter in another language.

This isn’t mere familiarity with the series, Capcom employs some very smart game design principles to make what can be an obtuse game very understandable by a foreigner.

The organisation of hunting quests by rank/difficulty has been present since the first game, but Portable 3rd improves this, by shading the whole quest element the appropriate colour. Generic quests in blue, and urgent quests in red, Gathering in green etc. The combination of ranked star system and numbers used to denote higher level quests becomes particularly helpful when you understand no Japanese.

Where the game really comes into its own though is its use of colour. The game is great at using colour to denote positive and negative effects. You can work out from skimming the quest list a) where the quest takes place b) how many monsters you’ll be fighting and c) what the rewards are for that mission.

This great use of colour works all the way through the game, from the good/bad status effect icons, the skill effects on armour right the way through to showing which items are returnable supply items in yellow.

Making sense of things in the heat of the moment

Overall Monster Hunter Portable 3rd continues this theme of visual accessibility by not changing the fundamentals of the series more improving the established elements that work, such as the menu and ability to skip between rooms. It’s very easy to commit to memory what all the functions of the menu do. In battle, I find myself flicking between my combine menu and quest info easily.

From the in-game battle menu I find I am using the iconography for the items used, far more than I did in the English versions of Monster Hunter. In the heat of the moment I search for the right icon I need first, then double check the Japanese secondarily to make sure that I have the right item. Capcom reuses colours and identifiable icons here to (usually) help distinguish one item from another).

As a bowgunner, ammo is the only area where I find I have had to learn some Japanese. Each non-elemental ammo type has three different grades, so occasionally I find I can muddle up pierce and normal ammo when I am reloading. In fact ammo is the only occasion where this careful colour scheming can fall down – colours are reused not just once but more, the worse example is the use of red ammo being used for fire, tranq, dragon and demon shot.

Gathering items and collecting monster parts however is helped by the colour schemes – despite the fact that they are reused as with ammo. All the large monsters you hunt have their own unique shading of the item parts, this together with the monster item icons makes it easy to tell a Tigrex claw from a Rathian webbing.

These colour schemes are used for every item, from bombs, to insects. Making the process of collecting and finding the appropriate item easy to do.

Picking out important messages

Visuals aren’t the only way that the game supports familiarity though. There are careful audio moments where (such as the song sung when meat is cooked correctly) and the icon prompts from your felyne companions that do transcend the language barrier. The rare moments where some English does creep in is appreciated. This ranges from the reloading messages on bowgun ammo, to success messages such as “quest clear” and “hunter rank up” notifications. I suspect the decision to put these particularly important statements into English was a way to make them stand out. As someone who doesn’t understand any Japanese, they are a welcome reward to my hunting.

Audio cues continue to be useful through battles and general play. Success cues help support the messages I cannot always read, such as telling me when a monster has spotted me (by the battle music starting up) or when my supplies have arrived, or my supporting items worn off. This is most evident during something like combining items – particularly in the heat of battle. The audio cue quickly tells me which items have been successfully created, and how many failed without having to look at the item(s) in detail, this often saves precious seconds when things aren’t going as well as I’d like.

A fan of localisation

Above all though, this is a game that has been made possible by a Western audience by the ever-impressive Monster Hunter community. Fans have translated the game into English for those who wish to do so using custom firmware. Most importantly for me though have have created a series of online resources which have been able to help me get started. From everything to explaining new tutorial and drink quests that are new to this Monster Hunter entry, all the way through to weapons upgrades and armour creation.

Weapons and armour creation are one of the few areas of the game that are trickier in Japanese. In this iteration of the game I have to plan out what I wish to create and build things far less on a whim.

As enlightening and enjoyable as this Japanese playthrough of the game has been, it has fallen to the fans of the series once again to expand the intended audience. Capcom’s usability improvements in this iteration of Monster Hunter shows that is an evidently very playable despite a lack of Western release. I only hope that this Monster Hunter drought finishes soon. I have a new-found appreciation of the localisation process.

The post Visual help in Monster Hunter Portable 3rd appeared first on Pioneer Project.

Summer is the perfect excuse for me to combine two favourite experiences – playing games cooperatively and replaying games I once enjoyed deep in the throws of nostalgia.

Gaming and solidarity

Nostalgia is the main reason I find myself returning to this idea every summer in particular. This time last year I started a weekly cooperative replay of Final Fantasy 9 with my closest friend.

We have a long history of playing games together. It taps straight back into the old way we all used to play games before the internet. Back when we were kids you learnt how to play games by watching others in the room, observing your friends (and competitors) skill. You carefully watched where your friends succeeded and faltered. Your gaming skill blossomed not under your single, solitary effort, but weeks and months of shared rumours, hints and collaboration.

Far from the image people having of gaming being purely about navel gazing. Gaming – then and now – was always about a shared purpose. This might be from the way we play games together, or talk about our separate experiences, it’s rarely something that we as gamers shut away and never talk about. This sense of shared purpose might be why so many of us are still so fascinated by video games despite being encouraged to move on from them.

To this day sharing a game, even a single player game with another is still my favourite way to experience it.

Revelling in nostalgia

Going back to old titles that you admired in the past has its disadvantages though. Each year I find myself returning to titles that I loved hugely as a child and find more often that not that the games I held in such high regard fall ever so slightly under the scrutiny of my older mind.

Every so often though games stand up as proudly as they did before. The games that fall under the greatest scrutiny are those we played as children. Similarly I enjoy returning to the games I played as a teenager when I was starting to identify as a gamer. The era at which this happened for everyone is different, but mine was during the original Playstation era, when I was being raised on RPGs such as Final Fantasy VII. Replaying the games that I enjoyed from this area for me is a two-fold pleasure – the experience of playing the game again, and the pangs of nostalgia that come from reminding yourself of how much you appreciated a game the first time around.

Which brings me to Final Fantasy IX. A game I did not widely understand or appreciate at the time. Many of my problems with the narrative came from the “re-imagining focus” of the game. How poorly this came across to me upon playing the game for the first time. How could I know about the importance of crystals and other old Final Fantasy tropes, if Europe was not to even see the games that Final Fantasy IX references until far after it was released. As a result I had a very muted response to Final Fantasy IX upon its release here, truthfully the well-trodden medieval setting was a disappointment after the cyberpunk sizzle of Final Fantasy VII and VIII.

So playing Final Fantasy IX with another person (particularly someone who enjoyed it at launch more than I did) was about tapping into that very old way of playing a game. We helped each other through it, imparting what our favourite moments were, working through narratively and what didn’t. We took turns to play, chuckled and laughed and made an evening of every session. I will now always associate Final Fantasy IX with that happy and successful replay, buoyed up by the positivity of another.

We start Final Fantasy VIII next, and our roles are reversed. I am more comfortable with that game, as it made more of an positive impression on me (despite the bobbins involved in the story) her not so much, but the journey to find out how long that game holds up to each of us will be just as memorable.

The post A summer of nostalgia appeared first on Pioneer Project.

In this game Capcom pulls many contorted punches in its brave but ultimately strange version of an open world.

An endless source of devoted foot-soldiers

Dragon’s Dogma drew me in with the concept of pawns – the player created characters which form the basis of your party. I never thought that it would fall to Capcom to comment so cleverly on the flippancy of game-controlled characters.

I can admire the elaborate storytelling that Capcom has employed here to explain away such common gaming conventions as characters supporting you so unflinchingly – dying over and over for you without question.

Pawns are humanoid beings that originate from a mystical portion of the gameworld known as the Rift. They operate almost as a hive-mind. As companions they share advice and help you in combat, but they’re evidently not of the same world. Although humanoid they’re not human, and are treated differently to other residents of the game world. There’s something out of sorts about the way that pawns respond to your every request diligently, and how they’re regarded by other player characters – with distrust and disdain.

This is the first time that Dragon’s Dogma makes you sit back and question the rules of not just this gameworld – but any. Happily it’s not the only occasion.

Breaking the norms of the genre

There’s a subtle humour to Dragon’s Dogma that I simply didn’t expect from it’s medieval setting and open-world trappings. This is perhaps best summarized by the bombastic introductory music – the catchy J-Rock melody striking out against the calm landscape of the title screen – complete with brooding dragon milling about in the transition from sunrise to set. It’s a contrast of sound and vision – a careful brush of two themes (part power ballad meets attempted Tolkienism) that shouldn’t really work together but somehow in this game they strike the right sort of mood.

You start the game and this careful interplay of themes is not mentioned again – at least not immediately. It is glimpsed at though. The obvious innuendo from key characters in the plot mixed in with the delicate innocence of others. And there’s not a hint of this strange, sinister and humourous underbelly until your first appearance in court.

Humour and whimsy

Awkward ill-judgements on your part – to help or talk to a character or go to a place which you shouldn’t (despite what your decades of gaming experience are telling you – to explore). You start to meet characters that in truth you really shouldn’t be speaking to in the context of the game and your heroes part in it.

Dragon’s Dogma doesn’t just slap you on the back of the hand (as similar games of this genre do) for idle misdemeanours. A wrong decision is quickly revealed and the in-game punishment all too fleeting thereafter. It’s not a complaint about the difficulty of the combat more a design decision that means that every decision carries some genuine risk.

I have spent more time inadvertently putting my character in prison than I have in any other game – I am forced to by Dragon’s Dogma solitary save file and auto-save system which prevents cheeky avoidance of its rules. In truth I am enjoying the experience all the more for it. The in-game characters thinly disguise a mocking tone, making the game a glorious curio – a game that is aware of how strangely it behaves (in a normally straight context) and revels in it. It’s the metaphorical equivalent of an NPC winking to you – the player – knowingly from inside the screen.

For all the humour and the intrigue, dark subplots are also at play, things more sinister than I expected from this game, subjects implied in the shape and movements registering on my characters face, and this is all far before I have followed the games main story to its end. I have yet to meet the titular dragon properly. I am having far too much fun flirting with the games silly underbelly, and mastering its effortless combat.

Whimsy and fun – things altogether too easily forgotten in games like this, a genre usually weighed down with sombre and serious tones. Dragon’s Dogma strikes a different, almost perverse balance, some of it works, some of it doesn’t, and I love it.

The post Blindsided by Dragon’s Dogma appeared first on Pioneer Project.

Naively perhaps, I had regarded gaming (to a certain extent at least) to be a hot bed of diversity, more open-minded and liberal than our peers in the normal media would have the rest of the world believe.

Why I’m disappointed

I thought this because of the way that gaming has been treated historically. We have been (and are still frequently) demeaned as being part of a hobby of eccentrics and the socially inept. This is often stated to us as such without a hint of shame, if it isn’t openly implied in conversation.

In truth, I thought we, with our collective appreciation in a hobby that other people look down upon, would be more open-minded when it came to individuals in our community being treated without the respect and tolerance they deserve.

I’ve experienced intolerance for my interests, gender, race and age numerous times outside of gaming. The intolerance I have personally experienced inside the gaming community has diminished to almost nothing. I feel comfortable here. I am however ashamed that I do not speak out more openly about the occasions that I am not so happy of.

The moments when I have been verbally abused online simply for playing a game as a woman. The assumptions made about my inability to play games because of my gender. The telling assumption that because I talk about games online that I must be male (in situations where my real name is not used). While these things may not sound huge to those who have not experienced them, they chip away at your resolve slowly.

Moments where gamers feel uncomfortable playing games in public pale in comparison to the very real and threatening behaviour that happens inside our own walls – on our own turf – where we as gamers should feel safest. If public disdain of your love of gaming is the sole disadvantage you experience when playing games then I consider you extremely lucky.

Even those of us that are not guilty of intolerance in our community, are we helping to tarnish the experience of being here by tolerating such prejudice in gaming? It’s not true to say that there’s nothing that we, the silent majority can do in defence of others. If the perception of gaming in popular culture is every going to change all of us have to the very example of what is great and good in this community and we shouldn’t stand for anything less.

A word on gender imbalance

I’ve been a gamer for a long time. When I started to play games it was with the innocence of a child. As a grew older I became more aware of issues within gaming that was at odds with the other big part of my identity (such as the poor treatment of female characters, the portrayal of female gamers, and the lack of representation of women in gaming). When I started to identify myself as a gamer, it’s almost as if I had to switch off my mind to everything that bothered me. I almost had to focus on the part of our community that left me excited and proud rather than disgusted and ashamed.

I can empathise hugely with anyone (male or female) that’s experienced any sort of negative treatment while playing games, particularly given the nature of our hobby. Gaming it’s meant to be entertainment , it’s meant to be inclusive and rewarding. Instead we’re denying this pleasure to a wider spectrum of people by intimidating diversity away from something that fundamentally belongs to everyone. We’re letting a small minority of gamers perpetuate the very behaviour that we’re accused of in moral panic ridden headlines. Worse still we are all encouraging this behaviour by keeping silent.

Maybe we haven’t progressed as much as I hoped we have. However I adore gaming, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m a living, breathing reminder that many of us want bigger and better things for our community. Gaming is and should be for everyone and there’s simply no reason to perpetuate an agenda of prejudice.

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