MMO Hijinks (APB Edition)

(Image from GameHavoc)

There's a lot to be said about MMOs on and incoming to the market today. For that reason I'm starting a labelled series for my little monologues regarding them. There's no key unifying theme, no single line of thought or approach, but thoughts from one seem to bleed into the other, so grouping them together seems an apt idea.

Realtime Worlds is in a whole world of trouble. All Points Bulletin, their big flagship project released back in June, siphoned the life out of them to the point of 'administration' (a.k.a. bankruptcy). Some interesting reading is featured in an ex-developer's blog posts, composed of not one, not two, but three parts, with claims of a tying conclusion to follow. The scope of Luke Halliwell's musings well exceed what I had personally observed through the on-going development, testing and eventual releasing of All Points Bulletin.

A little upon my experiences with All Points Bulletin. I do freely admit that I had fallen prey to the hype and marketing of APB. Inherently that is not such a bad thing. To be thoroughly excited for a product is a non-issue if the product delivers upon expectations. Through beta testing, while marred by some significant issues (that are irrelevant at this stage), a lot of my hopes were decently fulfilled. I in fact would have purchased it if there was a server center in my region of the world. Unfortunately this was not the case.

Luke discusses a lot about the internal corporate issues that stifled APB development. A nutshell take is that the big business structure for what was a little company was an ill suited fit that contributed to inefficiency. This is all of course locked away from the prying consumer eye. The only issue with the developer that I have personally witnessed (and could possibly have encountered) is a seeming lack of connection between the community and the developers. I had personally emailed official RTW support on multiple occasions with mannered queries, but never obtained any response. Forums were well alive, but the forum community managers only really involved themselves deeply when the payment-model bombshell dropped on the community.

And how devastating that payment model was. While any reasonable and rational consumer would expect (and thus not mind) a pay-to-play model, the developers had built up beliefs for a buy-to-play approach. While in the strictest sense, it was 'possible' for a player to play the game without regular payment, any core content would needed to be earned through very successful player-market engagement. To call APB plausibly 'buy-to-play' in the long term is like calling EVE Online 'buy-to-play'. Possible but anything but definitive.

With the community up in arms about the nickel-and-dime payment for a game called 'buggy' and 'unfinished' by the critcs within the testing community, we all foresaw a rough landing. Launch day rolled by, and the community's lukewarm reception was what started this dangerous trek to where Realtime Worlds and All Points Bulletin stands now.

It's very disappointing. An ambitious game if there ever was one, dying faster than any of the other lackluster and derivative MMOs. What does this serve to tell the industry? That WoW-clones die, but not nearly as fast as something original and creative? That developers should stick to tried and trusted formulae than invent their own? These are what the many may see and assume on face-value, and are of course the wrong lessons to learn. APB's consumer support died because of a terrifying community mishap, and their ability to rectify it was muddled by a 'too much bureaucracy, too soon' within the developer. I'm not trying to defend APB to be a stellar game, for it is flawed on various degrees, but it held legitimate, good ideas. To die so soon, it shouldn't happen - at least not like this.

So we meet again.

Back from a terrible writing grave, it's Wiener, bringing you a little something today.

Having spent a lot of time on Star Craft II as of late, the competitive spirit runs deep in my veins. Skilled or proficient, I am not, but between the brooding nature of laddering and the many tournaments that have been on (Intel Extreme Masters in Cologne, MLG and right now GOMtv's TG-Intel StarCraft II Open), there's a lot of game to be played and to be watched.

Speaking of MLG and competitive gaming, the Razer Onza - a third party Xbox 360 controller, has been banned from competitive play by MLG.

While I'm not particularly interested in the direct ramifications for Razer's first foray into console peripherals, it does pose an interesting issue. How should unconventional technologies be treated in the competitive scene? It was the Onza's auto-fire capabilities that largely outlawed it from MLG play, but for the PC scene, keyboard macros, even mouse macros are analogous if not superior in function. Are these functions severe to the point that they are unsuitable for a competitive league?

The degree of customization and programming that can fit behind some of these macro buttons is quite impressive. While the cheaper, simpler versions on keyboards or mice can only manage a key press or two, most premium products offer a much more precise experience. They can offer programming for a timed sequence of any number button presses that is fully reproducible with each use of the macro. Some even allow for mouse movement, which can prove valuable for bread-and-butter motions like rocket-jumping. It becomes a science, allowing (near) inhuman execution of actions.

Some argue that such technology is widely available, and that choosing not to utilize it is merely a waste of what is considered the new standard. Others also say that it takes as much skill to prepare and code a macro. Yet others rationalize their macro use by only using recorded macros - that which they can physically perform, to eliminate the advantage of computer-perfect timing. Their opponents cry foul by stating that macros are the most obvious inequality between players, which is only too often rebutted by what would have been the rift of disadvantage during transitions between ball mice to optical mice, and later, optical mice to laser mice. All these arguments are thrown around heatedly in discussion of competitive play.

In the end, I cannot definitively say that these technologies should be made illegal in all competitive scenes. For an 'as-equal-as-possible' approach that console tournaments (e.g. MLG) uphold, third party products are perhaps very jarring. On the other hand, the PC competitive scene has, for a long time, allowed players to find what input devices are most suitable for them. It's unorthodox for a PC tournament to disallow personal choice of headphones, keyboards or mice.

However, that is not to say I approve of complex macros in competitive games. The programming behind it offloads the responsibility, and the actions required, for the player using them. A person reliant on perfectly coded macros to play a game properly, to win competitively, is a person who innately does not have the skill to play or win the game. You strip the player of his special equipment, and he cannot perform. A player who practices traditional, physical execution of all his moves can perform his best even without such equipment.

Personally, I don't think I'll ever make heavy use of macros. However, you'll never catch me off guard with a mouse that doesn't have a 'reload' key bound to its side. It's a fine line we walk, but my conscience rests easy. Even if it means I lose StarCraft II matches like no tomorrow.

Hail to the King

One thing I can and will say though...

Always Bet On Duke.

(Image from Shacknews)

See you on the other side of my little hiatus!

Series of Unforseen Circumstances

So, dear readers, you may have noticed a sharp decline in blog posts recently.

Let me explain myself. A whole host of wonderful games, and a not-so-wonderful, but still very engaging MMO beta has been draining time from my schedule. In addition, my extraneous work agenda has also been billowing like a smoke grenade set off in a paper bag. For that, I will promise a post by month's end. Perhaps a bit earlier, but don't hold your breath.

 - Wiener

The Flesh and Spirit of Role Playing Games

"You can put a 'J' in front of it, but it's not an RPG."

This struck me as a bold statement to make. And as bold as it is, I feel that there is an amount of truth in it. I do not unconditionally agree with this Mr. Erickson, and my explanation should be sufficient reason why.

The first thing one would ask oneself upon reading that statement is "What is an RPG?". Role Playing Games, at its most literal level, is any game where players assume the role of an individual. For all intents and purposes, such a legalistic approach is useless. Mario is an RPG, Halo is an RPG, Fallout is an RPG, Gran Turismo is an RPG. Almost all games today involve the player 'being' a character in the established fictional world of the game. To what the industry and the consumers consider an 'RPG', such a face-value approach has no point.

But where did RPGs come from? They were of course popularized by the famed pen-and-paper game, Dungeons & Dragons. To those unfamiliar with the geek hit-sensation, D&D involved physical congregation of human players, of whom one was a Dungeon Master - to drive the narrative and establish the fictional world. The rest were player characters, each representing an individual in the adventuring party. Gameplay revolved heavily around dice, and role-play, and persistent character advancement through experience and equipment. It is upon this rich base that many of the first role-playing video-games borrowed ideas and inspiration.

Fast forward to today, and we see games labeled (casually or otherwise) as 'JRPGs' to denote RPGs from Japan, and 'WRPGs' for Western Role Playing Games. Rabid fans on either side claim throne to being the better style of RPG, and much dispute is rife through the far-reaching branches of the Internet.

If you ask me, the divide is quite clear, simple, and fair.

JRPGs in their modern, current form, focus heavily on statistical character progression, inventory management (with marginal upgrades and 'enchantment'), and for many, turn-based combat. WRPGs on the other hand, have been emphasizing storytelling, player-freedom and for lack of a more purposeful term, role-play. Dear reader, do you see where I go with this?

Japanese Role Playing Games seem to adhere very closely mechanical conventions from D&D. The use of computer dice-rolls to determine turn-taking, success rates and damage all hearkens back to how role-play worked in the early days. Western Role Playing Games however are all about the narrative, and how the player wishes to act out their character in the fictional world. Thus they are more representative of the creative, free-form end of Dungeons & Dragons.

So back to the original quote. Is the modern JRPG still a Role Playing Game? In the most straightforward sense, yes - players play the predetermined, preset role of a (most likely teenage and male) individual who must embark upon grand adventure. In the mechanical sense, yes - it borrows and leans very much from the classical approach of 'game' from Dungeons & Dragons. In the 'role-play' sense (a.k.a. the Daniel Erickson sense), no - the typical JRPG makes no concession for player-choice and freedom in the same vein as D&D. If that's enough in your book to be disqualified from being a 'role playing game', then you have your answer.

Is it short-sighted to use D&D as the sole deciding factor on how much a game is a Role Playing Game? Perhaps, but I'd like to hear of a role-playing game that's outdoes D&D at its own game.

We Game Alone

Might as well get cracking, given how bad a track record I have for writing anything in a remotely regular fashion. I wrote this right after I published my last post, and it probably won't be posted until much, much later.

An increasing trend for games seems to be the multi-player focus. Games like Assassin's Creed Brotherhood, Bioshock 2, or even Portal 2 whose predecessors were a strictly single-player narrative are turning to at least include a multi-player mode, whether cooperative or competitive. At the core of this shift is the desire for game makers (developers and publishers alike) to extend the longevity of their product - which is a noble enough aim. Where single-player is limited to the extent of the content created by the programmers and the designers, the crux of multiplayer lies in human-to-human interaction, which is a dynamic that rarely rests stagnant.

Multiplayer has changed a lot as the years pass. Most notably the shift has been made where we expect multiplayer to be online, and not local. This is not inherently a bad thing. One rarely gets the opportunity to play games with a faraway friend were it not for the Wide Area Network. Online play also means learning (through competition or cooperation) with a higher skill ceiling as we are not limited to getting smoked by the smartest or fastest kid in the neighborhood. What it does mean though, is a physical segregation of people, which at times can feel almost counter-intuitive to the purpose of multi-player - the bringing together of players.

The most relevant example that comes to mind must be the hot-from-the-oven (and in this respect, controversial) Blizzard title that is StarCraft 2. While LAN parties have become a less relevant through the past couple years, omission of a LAN mode from StarCraft 2 caused for outcry and weeping for both the casual and serious tournament scene (if a casual tournament is at all possible). First Person Shooters like Modern Warfare 2 and Battlefield Bad Company 2 whose earlier installments considered LAN play to be part and parcel shipped without. Racing games like Burnout Paradise also have no local multi-player, save for a content update that allowed for pass-the-controller, turn-based play.

Why is this happening? I would hazard the guess that for the most part, it is the exertion by the publisher to increase sales, increase the number of unique units to be bought and played. Where LAN mode is available, a single copy of the game is sufficient for a group. Where there is split-screen play, one copy can usually cover four people at any given time. The business mentality might just be that sales could easily quadruple or more if everyone had to purchase a unique copy.

Consider me an old man for still valuing the traditional game enjoyed with friends in-person. A game in particular would be New Super Mario Bros. Wii, which features old-style shared-screen local multi-player. It has become my 'go-to' game when friends are around, and it would seem that time-and-time again, it excels as a game experience. Half its effectiveness lies within the video game, and the other half lies within the players and their interaction in the physical environment.

(Image from Destructoid)

While it definitely seems conceivable that a game experience could be impaired through physical separation of its multiple players, I don't think the inverse holds true. While online play is still very important for convenience's sake, to thin the already-existent ability for people to play together in a close (and closed) environment seems like a pirate-paranoid, cash-hungry tactic to me.

Addendum: A new look courtesy of Blogger's new template tool. Still nothing 'original', or saussage-relevant, but that may just come in time.

1:1 Motions, why not?

This little talk is way overdue. Sorry to all my numerous, horde-like fans out there who clearly have been hungering for the latest morsel of thought only to be sorely disappointed.

Now that all the big players in the home console market are preparing to unleash motion-controlled terror in the living room (or in Nintendo's case, continue to unleash said unfathomable terror), many are evaluating the merits and demerits of each solution. One particular element to be considered is the degree of fidelity that each system brings. What seems to be considered the Holy Grail of fidelity is 1:1 motions, where motion in the physical space is perfectly recreated in-game. While I would agree that this is more impressive on a technical level than the 'waggle vigorously for effect' that plagues many uninspired mini-game compilations for the Nintendo Wii, there are some very fundamental problems to liberally applying 1:1 motions in upcoming video games.

My primary point that is to be brought up is how video games exist to contrast and differ to what is represented in reality. This is not a jab at saying that games are unrealistic, merely that what is being portrayed on screen, as the environment in the video game, is almost always different to the environment where the video game is being played (most likely one's living room). Thus motion that is possible in the living room environment, that is not possible in the video game environment, will cause the 1:1 experience to break as the user does something 'impossible' in the game.

While I'm not a fan of using a very specific example to illustrate my point, it might just be necessary to explain myself. Consider a scenario where the 1:1 motion mechanic involves wielding a sword (or melee weapon of choice). This has been demonstrated on both the Wii and PlayStation 3 platforms, and with a bit of a stretch of imagination, may well be possible on the Xbox 360. Consider where the user decides to swing his weapon in a spacious living room. If in the game, there are no obstructions, the game can fully mimic what motions are being inputted to the system. However, if there is an obstruction (e.g. a wall) to the path of the weapon, then one of two things must occur, and in either case the experience breaks. Either the weapon does not yield to the physical obstruction, and clips straight through to maintain 1:1 motion, or it hitches upon the barrier and 1:1 motion is broken as the user continues to do the 'impossible' in the game environment that is still possible in the living room. Unless said weapon is of unstoppable quality, able to pass through all materials in the game environment, at some point a concession to the impossible must be made, and the 1:1 perfection must be broken. Then there's the possibility that the fancy flourishes every aspiring living room swordsman wants to demonstrate may very well sever the limbs and and cranium off their own character in game if recreated in full detail.

So with all honesty, when people say they want 1:1 motion controls in the latest hack-n'-slash title, they might be better off saying they want 1:1 motion controls with a lot of compromise. Compromise that might involve animations that end abruptly and snap back to the player's position, or compromise involving a more forgiving (read: less accurate) interpretation to do what the system thinks the player is actually trying to perform.

Of course, where games occur in environments that aren't as ridden with obstacles, perhaps like Echochrome 2 for the Playstation 3, or skydiving in Wii Sports Resort, 1:1 motions are less likely to encounter any breaks in the experience. For these sorts of titles, 1:1 motion may work sufficiently with minimal adjustment.

While 1:1 motions are becoming less and less a technical pipe dream, I for one would always vouch for a functional game experience - whether that needs 1:1 (in its strict meaning) really shouldn't be all that important for anything beyond an immersion factor.