Initial Impressions of Fable 2

I feel like far too often, I find myself compelled to come up with something new and genuine for this blog (though, I'm sure any reader would assure me that I have done nothing of the sort...though thankfully I have so few readers (whether or not this is a problem, I haven't decided) that nobody has called me out on such) that I probably need to be allowing myself to have some impersonal entries, you know, just on what I've been playing, my impressions of such, etc...

With this in mind, I have recently begun playing Fable 2, which originally I had no intention of doing. It debuted around the time of Dead Space and Far Cry 2 back in October of 2008, and I had no intention of allowing a sci-fi horror fest or a technical masterpiece of open-ended Africa to go unnoticed. That's not to say I didn't have any "beef" with the Fable series. I certainly did. It's one thing to buy a highly hyped game at launch, and find it disappointing. It's a completely different affair to wait a couple years, have several friends shouting its praises, buy the player's choice deluxamundo edition, and still not wholly enjoy the experience. Such was my impression of Fable: The Lost Chapters.

It was hard to get excited about this game...even despite the fact that I had "MORE CHOICES"...whatever that meant

I know what you're thinking. "Nick, first, this is supposed to be about the second entry in the Fable series. True, but as with any film series or book series, past entries always have to be taken into consideration. Quite simply, I found the first entry to have an entirely superficial good/evil dichotomy as well as the character creation mode. You couldn't be some fisticuffs brawling/sniper hybrid or an axe-toting archmage. If you didn't follow one of the "strength, skill, or will" paths to its uttermost end, selecting all of its respective skills and upgrades, (SPOILERS) the endgame fight with Jack of Blades was a miserable hair-pulling extravaganza. On top of this, everyone's character tended to look the same by the end of the game: sporting the same set of class-relevant high-level armor. Everyone looked the same, acted either like Gabriel or Satan's right-hand imp, and had the same skill-set abilities.

These are basically your only options in Fable. Disturbingly enough, most people didn't have a problem being limited to either a canonized saint, or a supreme dick.

Granted, and allow this to be my minor digression for the article, Knights of the Old Republic, which I would marry if the State of California eventually gives me such an opportunity, is guilty of many of these crimes. The "light/dark" polarity is more influential on one's gameplay, but the fact that one's allegiance can be flipped at the tail end of the title trivializes one's efforts up to that point. However, like Fable, throwing skill points around with reckless abandon and equipping anything but the uniformly best armor is not advised.

The only thing that convinced me to take a look at the title was it's "50% off" tag at Circuit City. Thirty dollars tends to be my "I can afford to be wrong" limit. And, well, I was wrong about the Fable franchise. For those who were afraid that Fable 2 is "more of the same" and certainly didn't enjoy what was handed out the first time, I have good news. The newest installment features much more intuitive controls, a larger world, and, above all, I'd argue that the "good/evil" mechanic has been improved.

For those that aren't aware, probably one of the most intuitive mechanics that Fable 2 implements is the addition of man's best friend. Adding a dog instead of, say, a "partner" or ally character might seem out of place with the advancements that have been made in "ally a.i." but it works. It's easy to become fed up with the ally that keeps getting in the way of your shots, or continues to repeat the same five phrases about just how awesome/awful a hero you are, or decides that his contribution in combat will be to binge drink your health potions. I've frequently been tempted to commit a little "friendly fire" of my own from time to time, though apparently Sega never thought to make it possible to drown Big the Cat in Sonic Adventure as I have attempted such so very, very many times.

Someone was sleeping behind the wheel in the design department when Big the Cat was created, another differently colored hedgehog would have done nicely, instead we got this social deviant.

Killing your own dog though? NOT okay, even the thought of such makes one a stage 5 deviant. It's hard to get mad at a dog, too. Combat with a dog generally means that he won't be getting in the way of your "headshots," and all he demands for his services are a game of catch and a treat, instead of say, half the loot. Dogs don't require that you buy them expensive equipment, and then decide to leave your party. Your canine companion also can assist in the unearthing of money and other items buried in the ground. He also has developed the ability to sniff out treasure chests. I won't get into how improbable such a concept is, but let it be known that I don't mind.

And yes, here is a picture of your dog. That I can explain. As for the member of the Lollipop Guild getting all up in my grill...that I can't explain.

Fable 2 has also introduced a control configuration that is similar to that of Assassin's Creed. Specifically, each button correlates to a certain sort of action, which can consequently be modified to control that sort of attack. For example, pressing "Y" will shoot whatever your selected ranged weapon is. Holding down "Y" will (with the technique purchased) zoom in for an over the shoulder targeting view. In the same vein, "X" handles all of your close combat issues. It's intuitive, and will result in less rummaging around to locate the game manual.

The visuals are, love them or hate them, remarkably similar to the last entry: cartoony with bobblehead-esque proportioned bodies. Yes, your sneaker is still roughly twice the size of your torso in this title, but much of this is excused by the change in time periods. Taking place in the Enlightenment era, Albion is now focused on corsets and tri-corner hats. You can dress like a Zorro-esque highwayman, or "suit-up" in some traditional "noble" fare, if you find the situation demands such. I've never felt more girly, and yet proud of myself, than when I spent a half hour buying and dyeing my clothing in downtown Bowerstone. But hey, it does matter, in Fable 2 the clothes do make the man...err...or lass. Indeed, most articles of clothing can boost such factors as "attractiveness" or "posh" or "aggressive" which in turn alter how everyone else views you. Gone are the days of simply purchasing the strongest armor. In Fable 2 nobody has any!

I've enjoyed what I've played so far, I've gotten married, avoided having any children, have made quite a name for myself as a blacksmith in Bowerstone, go by the nickname "Gunslinger," and recently defeated a bunch of reanimated corpses in the capitol city's cemetary. You can, quite literally do anything in this game. I'll add more later once I've gotten further.

To Wii Fans: You Have Your Cake, Why the Hell Aren't You Eating It?

Allow me to preface this post: I do not own a Wii, nor do I play one on a highly frequent basis. Both of these can be justified by the fact that the Wii's pricing point, when compared with the game selection, is simply not reasonable. Before I buy a console, I have to be able to mentally list off fifteen games I know I cannot get on a system I already own, that stand a reasonably good chance of staying exclusive titles. This, in turn, is why the Wii has been a problematic buy for the hardcore gamer audience, in addition, in a multiplatform universe, the Wii is often underwhelmed button-wise to handle control schemes of more "button demanding" titles, and has to result to gestures commonly utilized to signal ships via a system of flags back in 1800s. This is where the Wii could have developed a niche in the market, in the realm of intuitive controls. Instead, they induce carpal-tunnel, and generally result with a Wiimote embedded in one's television.

This is what I think of whenever I see people playing the Wii. I can only speak for myself, though.

It can't compete visually or control-wise, and so, by definition, the only games that tend to fare well on the Wii are those that are custom developed as an exclusive Wii title. Again, one would be inclined to believe that when working with a laid-back set of hardware that many employees were already quite familiar with from the previous generation, this would encourage developers that wanted to lower their development costs to develop games for the Wii. Instead, developers saw the Wii as a veritable "dumping ground," a place to "recycle" games of the past generation by porting them to the Wii, without any optimization for the Wii's (while limited) increased capabilities, either in the controls or visuals department. There will be exceptions, like Okami or Resident Evil 4: Wii Edition, but for the most part, this holds true.

If you played it on the Gamecube, you've got a lot of bonus conent and a completely new satisifying way to play it here. If you didn't play it on the Gamecube, wellcome to civilization, consider this your passport.

Of course, the natural intuitive response is to play the blame game. Just who is culpable for this scenario? While most hasten to blame the developers, or Nintendo themselves, I'd first point the finger at the marketing team of Nintendo, as well as the public. There is no denying that Nintendo has repeatedly marketed the Wii as a system that is played as a family, as their initial advertising campaign clearly demonstrated. Two Japanese men show up at the quaintly suburbian home, suggest that "Wii would like to play" and are invited in, to demonstrate to the non-threatening white family just how much clean wholesome fun can be had on the Wii. We've (pardon the pun) all seen such an ad. Perhaps this can be contributed to Nintendo's launch titles, which have never really incorporated more than one or two "Mature" games. Due to such, they've always "set the stage" for each system as another "safe" buy for parents, only to have to sporadically defend this image as Mature games went through the production cycle.

Wii would like to provide you with another chance to view Nintendo as something only for children and adults with sick Princess fantasies

Now, let me be clear, there is not a 1:1 understanding between Mature games and hardcore games. Titles like World of Goo and Braid clearly demonstrate that a game can be hardcore without utilizing the tropes that a mature game generally does. But, for the most part, this tends to be the case. Consequently, game developers are afraid to release more "hardcore" titles on the Wii, they tend to not sell well, and frequently are admonished for placing a "profane-laden" title on the doorstep of Mario and the Princess. Someone needs to get the message to the public that the Wii is no different than any other gaming console: it sells games for varying age groups and demographics, and it is the parent's job to display the basic understanding of the alphabet to discern whether or not the child should be playing the game. Parents are inherently lazy though, they assume that in selecting the Wii as their console, that Nintendo will do the rest to make sure their kid has a 0% chance of encountering something objectionable. But that's not Nintendo's job, to be a digital babysitter for today's youth. The Wii should not be scared into pigeonholing itself to the pre-teen or "bingo and bedsores" demographics. Sony brought us God of War and Killzone, but also Crash Bandicoot and Katamari Damacy. We don't see anyone calling them out on this theoretical act of hypocracy.

Published by the same publisher on the same system, yet no complaints here for one reason or another

However, a few brave souls have ventured to provide Wii owners with exclusive titles that are genuinely good, but perhaps don't have the marketing bucks or mass appeal of Wii Sports. Then again, what does? This doesn't excuse the fact that games like the wonderful port (to call it a "port" is a disservice to the title, perhaps "reimagining" is more appropriate) of Okami, or the recent entry in the Fire Emblem series should have to fight to crack a half million sales worldwide. Hardcore gamers may complain and bemoan about the relative lack of "hardcore" games, but when given the chance to "vote with their dollars" they've abstained. This is why No More Heros, Suda51's masterpiece of meta-gaming criticism couldn't even sell four-tenths of a million copies, or why Steven Spielberg's Boom Blox was left straining to sell a million copies. Even a new entry in the Resident Evil series, The Umbrella Chronicles, which attempted to capitalize on the "light-gun" capabilities of the Wiimote, was barely able to reach 1.5 million copies sold. These are numbers that the decidely "above average" Army of Two and Perfect Dark Zero were capable of on the Xbox 360.

If loving No More Heroes is "wrong," than I'm not quite certain I want to know what being "right" is. And the picture above is a loving, affectionate embrace, don't get the wrong idea.

Perhaps Wii gamers don't realize that passing up every one of these in apathy, and waiting for the next dyed-in-the-wool Nintendo mascot game is intriniscally damaging to the system. For every title that fails to sell (many of these do fine becoming critical darlings, mind you) it sends a message to the developer that creating Wii games that don't follow the exploits of plumbers with high blood pressure or a mute sexually androgynous protagonist with a green windsock for a hat, is a waste. It tells the publisher that investing in developers with these interests is unprofitable. It tells Nintendo that, despite whatever cross-demographic plans they might have had in mind, that adhering to the model that the abovementioned individuals have doctored up for them, is the only way to survive.

People, this looks beautiful. Yes, it's violent, I get that. Just wait until your kids are asleep to play it. Set their bedtime earlier if you can't wait.

To those who want to see a revival of the utopia that was the Super Nintendo era, BUY House of the Dead: Overkill or Madworld, or The Conduit. Send the message that these games can sell on the Wii. People need to realize that if these games were on the Xbox 360 or PS3, none of this "killing simulator" talk, or complaints of excessive violence would be levied. But until these games can sell well, and provide a foothold for Nintendo as a company that can cater to the hardcore gamer once more, they will be forced to cater to their only other stable user base: Wii Fit users and Mario fans. Hurry, before all that's left is the Mario Party series and Wii Bowling: The Sequel.

Thoughts on Gamerscore/Trophies

Useless Tallying: A Look At the Broad Implications of Gamerscore/Trophies

In the past one would photograph a screenshot of their high score, or have their friends huddle around the arcade box to verify their achievement. This act, unsurprisingly, served a dualistic purpose: it gave the player a sense of well-defined superiority and achievement (to whatever extend joystick twiddling and button mashing is capable of providing such) in turn; it also provided the arcade industry with additional revenue from those other gamers who now had an impetus to lighten their load of pocket change for a shot at the title. Gamers (or arcade monkeys, or whatever one called them back in the early 90s) effectively paid to maintain an effective form of competition, exempting Seinfeld’s “Frogger” episode, of course.

These days, with most games offering free online leaderboards, and Nintendo, Microsoft, and Sony each offering their own online head-to-head competition services (though with marketedly varying degrees of success), one has to ask why the concept of the Gamerscore/Trophy system exists, just what its actual serviceable function is, and why it has caught on, along with perhaps some darker marketing motives surrounding it. Microsoft? Dark marketing motives? Not possible. The logic behind it is simple: complete a certain act/beat a level, find a hidden item, play the game while telekinetically manipulating the controller with one’s mind, and you’ll be allotted a certain amount of Gamerscore, the amount of which is usually approximate to the difficulty of the task. Beating the single player campaign of a game should “net” one more points than, say, leveling up for the first time. These achievements also extend themselves over to the multiplayer aspects of the game, both online and offline, as well as co-op and competitive modes.

However, there are problems with this seemingly transparent system. To begin with, Gamerscore is a highly problematic method by which to evaluate one’s “abilities.” In an arcade setting, one’s ability could be checked by monitoring how much allowance money was slipped into the coin slot of an incessantly sedentary lifestyle, functioning as a de-facto “handicapping” of sorts. In this day in age, where “gaming get-togethers” are a thing of the past, this system is impossible. I can tell that you’ve managed to beat the seventh level of Turok, but I have no way of telling how many tries it took you, the strategy you used, or if you found outside help in the form of a guide book, GameFAQs, or simply handing over the controller to a more competent friend. If one of your achievements boasts that you managed to beat Prince of Persia, there is no way of telling if it took you twelve hours or twenty-four. If we are to understand Gamerscore as a system for logging personal achievement, without comparison to that of others, perhaps there is some validity to the system. However, this is not how I would argue most gamers see it.

The online component is fraught with even more difficulties. A large amount of achievements are “rigged” via Xbox Live or GameFAQs message boards. A cursory glimpse at any popular game’s board will find dozens of posters begging for other players to help them in picking up some achievements, which otherwise, if faced with a truly competitive opponent, might be a trying experience. Whereas offline/campaign modes were honest, just lacking the specifics of how one went about it, the acquisition of many online achievements has been done in a blatantly dishonest manner, that all we are left with is the lauding of pseudo superiority. Again, this is not to demand something as ridiculous as “gamerscore reform,” but merely to incite one’s pondering on the valuation of such a concept.

Gone are these days...though part of me doesn't miss those annoying grubby little children, peering over your shoulder, trying to instruct one clearly twice their age on how to play Street Fighter 3.

With the competitive/comparative element of Gamerscore dismantled, I turn to the functional element. If we are, quite simply, to view Gamerscore points or trophies as something we are given, the natural inclination is to ask just what we are to do with such. Can a high enough Gamerscore unlock hidden content in a game, induct a gamer into some “Gold level” club of Microsoft, or, quite simply, be used to purchase themes, demos, gamerpics, etc? The answer to all of these is an unequivocal NO. The logic on Microsoft’s part is understandable, though. If I rent or borrow Forza Motorsport 2, and my friend purchases the game at full retail price, Microsoft has no motivation to reward us in an equal fashion. Microsoft is a company, and a company’s job is to reward its consumers/purchasers, those who understand that it is all about the “dolla’ dolla’ bill, y’all.” Now, granted, Microsoft is the sort of company that can afford to take a hit (just look how long it was before the Xbox division’s earnings weren’t drowning in red ink) so perhaps this is excusable. Or, alternately, perhaps copies of games could be registered so that the individual that purchased it would be the one to get the reward. The bottom line is that if Microsoft is/was genuinely concerned with providing some viable reward, they’re going to have to eliminate the “free lunch” that it would currently be promoting, in one method or another.

Aside from the problematic issues of just what Gamerscore can really tell us, and the non-functionality of it promoting any true rewards system, one must evaluate the sociological implications of Gamerscore, how it influences what games we buy, how we play them, and how achievements are incorporated into the game. Whether we like it or not, for many of us, Gamerscore influences the purchases we make. I have friends that don’t play online much, and thusly avoid titles like Halo 3 where a large amount of the achievements surround online play. Others will avoid a game if they hear that the achievements are “stingy” or require a lengthy amount of playthroughs to get the full set. On the opposite end of the spectrum, many people are frequently asking to borrow my copy of Phantasy Star Online, in which one can acquire all 1000 points by simply defeating all of the bosses in the single player campaign. Avatar: The Last Airbender is even easier, with an exploitable glitch that allows one to acquire all 1000 in a matter of mere minutes. While it may not be the main reason why we purchase a game, it can act as a deciding factor for those “on the fence.”

If you want to "finish the [achievement] fight" for Halo 3, you're going to need an online account, and infinite patience for the unmonitored pre-teens whose parents have replaced the babysitter with Xbox Live.

Other friends I know get a list of all of the achievements in a game, and proceed to play according to the list’s demands, while going through a game. It’s like a microcosm of the “walkthrough” or game guide. Instead of telling us where to go, and what to do, it advises or prefers certain play styles, gameplay methods, goals or objectives that would seem contrary to normal play. And while some shape their initial playthrough in this fashion (thereby aiming all who choose to do so towards a fairly unitary gaming experience) for others this is a convenient way to guide one's replay of the title, or, in fact, merit that second playthrough in the first place. Indeed, we must view achievements as "padding" for some developers, an attempt at giving the player that extra "push" to continue playing a game they would otherwise put down. With some games, this is unproblematic, a method for making an amazing game even more so. With less..."notable" titles, forcing the player to amass a profane amount of money, or beat a lackluster title on a half-dozen difficulty settings is indeed "padding." With the cost of launch title next-gen games up 20% from the last generation, and gameplay hours consequently becoming a vaunted measure of success (which is problematic in its own right) padding is necessary, and Gamerscore is an easy way of achieving such.

Equally problematic are developers that handle the Gamerscore system in a detrimental manner that hurts the remainder of the title. For example, some developers leak plot points or bosses on the achievement list. Nothing quite ruins a plot, like discovering that your party member is going to inevitably betray you, when looking up how many points you got for killing 500 enemies. Developers need to list these achievements as "secret" those that will inevitably unlocked throughout the course of the game. Other developers are simply sloppy and assign most of the achievements to online activities, or requiring second or third playthroughs, or playing on mindbendingly hard difficulty levels to achieve them. Again, I'm not saying I support the achievement system outright, but that, if it must be, the implementation is problematic. I shouldn't be given points simply for watching the first cutscene of Prince of Persia, nor should I find two-thirds of an achievement list locked off from me because I don't have a Gold account.

Some achievements require hours and hours of unnecessary work. This one requires pressing "Start" at the menu screen.

What is perhaps the most problematic about Gamerscore/Trophies? They've always induced a certain amount of Pavlovian glee in me whenever that little sound effect goes off, and that small circular box at the bottom of the screen informs me that I've done something "right." I know they're bad for me, that they shape the way I play, the way I buy, the way I think about myself and others as gamers. But some part of me still finds them alluring. They're the "junk food," the Lays of the gaming world...I just can't stop.

This pretty much says everything.