Real estate in Fable 2: an incentive not to play

I've been playing Fable 2 since late December, hoping that it would deliver on all the hype. After putting in quite a few hours and completing the main story line, I've decided that, like a lot of critics, I'm not quite convinced. Certainly there are impressive elements -- the graphics and visual style are suitably impressive, and the combat system manages to be simple, fun, and relatively deep.

However, as plenty of critics have said, the story is way too short, and ends abruptly without so much as a boss fight. The clothing system is pretty fun to play with, but there is an unfortunate lack of options for outfitting your character, and the only equipment that affects your performance is weaponry (which is also lacking variety).

Aside from all these issues, the one that sticks with me the most is the poorly balanced real estate system. On the surface, it's a neat system. You can buy property and rent it out to earn money. You can purchase furniture to improve the value of your properties and sell them for a profit. You can interact with the local economy to improve (or destroy) the amount of profit you get from your businesses. You collect rent every five minutes of real time, even when you're not playing.

As nice as it is to earn money when you aren't playing, the real estate system actually creates an incentive not to play once you get further into the game. After finishing the main story, you gain the ability to purchase Fairfax Castle for 1,000,000 gold. I didn't have close to that amount, so my strategy was to buy up as much valuable real estate as possible and then stop playing for a week until my bank account got fat enough. There wasn't enough content to keep me occupied in Albion until I had enough money, so I just switched to a different game. Call me crazy, but shouldn't game mechanics actually encourage people to play?

To make matters worse, now that I have more money than I can spend, there's no reward that seems worth the trouble. Apparently the reward for collecting all 50 silver keys, aside from an Xbox achievement is 50,000 gold? Seriously? After spending a million on a piece of property? Why would I spend hours collecting keys for chump change like that?

As much as I complain about Fable 2, my wife and my brother (who get the brunt of my complaints) would be quick to point out that I'm still playing. I can't really explain why, except maybe for my compulsion to collect obscure achievements.

Left 4 Dead: A co-op experiment

One thing my gamer friends (ok, that's all of them) and I always talk about is coordinating our purchase of a game so we can play together. Things rarely work out that way, mainly since everyone but me is still playing World of Warcraft. But last week three of us arranged to pick up Left 4 Dead at the same time. We even carpooled to the store.

After a few play sessions with everything from one to four players, here are some initial thoughts:

The co-op basket
Left 4 Dead is similar to Portal in one very important way. No, not that it's made by Valve. At it's core, Left 4 Dead is an experiment in one gameplay mechanic. Just like Portal took the concept of the portal gun and explored it to its utmost potential, Left 4 Dead attempts the same feat with multiplayer co-op. Zombie games are nothing new. Co-op isn't either. But Left 4 Dead is designed to force teamwork in co-op, which, strangely, hasn't been done too often.

From this angle, Left 4 Dead is a smashing success. Co-op play is great fun. It's intense, fast-paced, requires communication, and presents a decent challenge even on the normal difficulty setting.

The problem is that the game puts all its undead eggs in this one basket. The amout of fun this game offers is directly proportional to the number of people playing. It's fantastic with four, pretty good with three, just ok with two, and borderline boring with one. Not being one to play online with strangers, I anticipate that we'll frequently run into scheduling problems. And that's too much like work.

Embrace the random
The other primary feature of Left 4 Dead is it's sophisticated AI system. Every time you play a level, it's different. The game AI decides where to place boss zombies and where zombie rushes will come from. It definitely keeps you on your toes. I imagine higher difficulty levels (which I haven't yet graduated to) are quite intense. Even music and sound effects are controlled by this system, which creates a wonderful mood just at the right times and gives perfect queues to build suspense about which monster might be around the next corner.

In fact, I think Left 4 Dead's AI system presents a big step forward in gaming. There's no more memorizing enemy locations and finding just the right way to take them out. The randomness of gameplay forces you to play the game with urgency each time through.

However (you knew it was coming), all this glorious randomness comes with a price: there's not much content. The game includes four campaigns, each of which takes about an hour to play from start to finish. They're brilliantly designed, but they're short. Actually, they're about the right length. One hour of zombie slaying is about right. There just aren't enough campaigns to choose from. It may be impossible to know where the zombies are coming from, but you can certainly learn the best locations to fight them. The first time through a campaign is exhilarating; you don't know where you're going, and you don't know from which door death might emerge.

Overall, Left 4 Dead is quite well executed. There aren't enough games these days that focus on quality over quantity. Valve has produced the last few. Nevertheless, I find myself wishing for just a little more quantity on this one. I don't know how many more coordinated play sessions we'll pull off before somebody loses interest. Once that happens, the chances of anyone else sticking around drop considerably. Just like in the zombie apocalypse, if you don't all stick together, the fun won't last long.

Grand Theft Auto IV: early thoughts

Clearly I've been a bit absent from the blog lately. I've got two excuses. One is that I wanted to let the SPUDZOOKA announcement percolate a little. The other is that I've been playing Grand Theft Auto IV in every spare moment. It's amazing that I managed to get SPUDZOOKA out the door at all considering the fact that I bought GTA a couple days before I finished it.

So here are a few thoughts about GTA based on my experience so far. The reasons I play? Entertaining gameplay and world-class writing.

Gameplay
Grand Theft Auto games have been known in the past for having some spotty gameplay. Driving has always been fun, but the weapon targeting system seems to get a complete overhaul with every release. As expected with GTA IV, the driving system and car physics are top notch. It's still amazingly fun just to cruise around town. Now that I've made may way to the second area of the game, there are finally some straight roads to fly down at top speed. I'm still getting used to the hand brake in this one, since it's so easy to skid, but I like the fact that you have to learn how to use the brakes if you're going to get around quickly.

The targeting system again has been revamped, and this time it's pretty good. After a little while getting used to it, I realized that it basically operates like a modified shooter control with a lock-on system added to it. You can walk around with your free target mode engaged and the system will automatically lock onto any enemies that come into view. It works pretty well.

They've also added a cover system, which lets you hide behind obstacles during a firefight. I've found this quite fun so far, since it gives me a way to take out targets systematically rather than just running in shooting like a madman, which I did a lot of in previous GTA titles.

Writing
Lots of people probably argue that gameplay is what makes GTA shine. It's just a fun world to interact with. This is certainly true, but I think the real difference between GTA and a lot of other games is its writing. The characters are bigger-than-life and well developed. Niko, being a typical GTA hero, basically just does what people ask him to, but he seems to have a nicely layered back story that's coming out bit by bit. Plus, a big reason I can drive around for hours is that the radio stations crack me up. This is comedy writing at its finest and a brilliant commentary on American culture.

It's not just the radio stations, though. GTA IV finally seems to have latched onto something that others in the series have flirted with but never explored fully: the American Dream. Sure, all the GTA titles have dealt with the idea of one man pulling his own way up through whatever means necessary. But III and Vice City were simple mob stories. There wasn't much to make you relate to the hero (in III he never spoke at all). He was just a criminal trying to get rich. San Andreas developed Carl's character a bit more and toyed with the idea that he was a product of his circumstances and was somehow trying to rise above all the violence in his life.

But Niko Bellic is different to me. He's a man ruined by his past, and he has come to the U.S. both to escape something and to find something (or someone). He finds Liberty City a very different place than he expected, complicated and damaged. It's this interaction between Niko and Liberty City, his search for inner peace in a complex and chaotic place, that gives GTA IV something special. Niko in effect personifies the city, which in turn is a powerful American symbol, full of as much repressed anger and fear, but full of life as well. I can see him slowly forming a connection to the city and its inhabitants, just like I am as the player, and it's a beautiful thing.

Japanese vs. Western RPGs; story vs. gameplay

Gamasutra posted an article a few days ago about the 20 essential Japanese RPGs. It's pretty long but worth a skim. I've spent most of my gaming life (until recently) fairly insulated from reviews and online chatter about the quality of games I played. As a result, I knew what I liked, but I didn't know if anyone else agreed. It was fun to read someone else's take on those games.

Turns out I have played quite a few of the ones listed, including:

• Final Fantasy IV
• Final Fantasy VI
• Final Fantasy VII
• Final Fantasy VIII
• Final Fantasy X
• Final Fantasy XII
• Chrono Trigger
• Chrono Cross

Lots of Square games on that list, obviously, but they were only one of two or three outfits creating US-bound RPGs in the 80s and 90s. Plus, I liked all their games, so I tended to go out and buy them.

I've never played Xenogears, but I did play the first installment of Xenosaga, and I definitely agree with this article's take on that game:

Still, once again, the plot [of Xenosaga] was simply far too ambitious for its own good, and the number of planned installments was cut down from six to three, compressing the plot even more. It didn't help that the first two games were saddled with terrible pacing issues, plodding cutscenes, and boring battle systems.

Japanese vs. "Western" RPGs
This article also intrigued me because I'm still working on Oblivion (which will no doubt be a looong process), and I've only just begun to understand the differences between Japanese and Western-style RPGs. This is yet another way in which I'm a little slow, but I have never really spent much time with any Western RPGs before Oblivion.

I tend to like story-based games with interesting characters, and Western RPGs have leaned away from story and more toward gameplay, with their open-ended worlds and emphasis on first-person role-playing.

To avoid launching into a rant about the state of stories in games (which you can find here at Blog of War, and also here and here), I'll just say that so far I still prefer the Japanese model. Most definitions of narrative require an some act of telling (by an author and/or narrator). It's this author who interprets events and helps shape their meaning.

Japanese-style RPGs tend to acknowledge the existence of an author/narrator and adopt a more cinematic style -- they tell a story. Western RPGs tend to drop you in a world and let you, in a sense, create your own story. The trouble with this model is two-fold for me:

1. Most of us aren't good story tellers. The things we do in these spaces probably isn't very interesting. If I choose to spend my time in Oblivion on alchemy, I'll just run around collecting seeds and roots all the time. Nothing riveting there. Sure, I could play the thief or the wizened wizard, but these are just types; they're not characters with flaws and emotions. I want characters.
   
2. There's no one to tell the story to. If a story needs a teller, it also, out of necessity, needs an audience. If a man tells a story in a forest and no one is there to listen, is it still a story? Sorry... The point is that I can certainly entertain myself in a sandbox-type game -- where I'm the story-teller with no audience -- but I find it far more compelling to be an active audience member, using the available gameplay to move a story along.
   

That's my two cents. What's your preference?

Open-ended dialog and moody NPCs

I spent quite a few hours this weekend playing Oblivion. It's reasonably entertaining so far; the size of the world and the number of possibilities for gameplay really are impressive.

The thing that continues to amaze me, though, is the amount of dialog in the game. Seriously, they must have had dozens of people writing dialog what must be thousands of virtual inhabitants. Characters' dialog changes based on what's going on around them and their disposition toward you. It's all so well conceived. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.

Here's a little exchange illustrating how I often feel while shooting the breeze with denizens of Cyrodiil (paraphrased for your entertainment):

Me: Hello!
Sour-looking lizard man: What do you want?
Me: I'm new in town. What's with that paranoid elf guy running around town all the time?
Sour-looking lizard man: I don't know you well enough to talk about that.
Me: [Here I tell jokes and boast about my prowess as an adventurer to get the lizard man to like me. Then...] So, about that paranoid elf guy?
Sour-looking lizard man: Oh him. I think he's following me. He looks at me strangely sometimes, and often carries on about a conspiracy. I try not to let it bother me, but he really creeps me out.
Me: Tell me about the town. Did I say I was new here?
Sour-looking lizard man: The town is ok, I guess. Hey, can you help me gather a rare root to throw into a magic potion?
Me: Uh, sure.
Sour-looking lizard man: Great! I think there are some roots near the trees outside town.
Me: Right. Roots near trees -- got it. I'll let you know when I find some. Good-bye.
Sour-looking lizard man: Leave me alone.

Open-ended dialog systems are a great idea. In theory they create a real sense of place and give the impression that you're experiencing a living, breathing world. The trouble is they involve too much filler and not enough coherent conversation. Real conversation is much too complex for games at the moment, so relationships between the player and non-player characters (NPCs) -- or even between NPCs -- get distilled into grossly simplified numerical values like "disposition" or "reputation."

For a class once I created a dynamic dialog system designed to address some of these issues by scoring relationships between characters using several attributes instead of just one (for example, trust, loyalty, friendliness, anxiety). The idea what that everything you said to or did for an NPC would affect those attributes. Over time you would actually build a "relationship" by spending time with NPCs, and the quality of that relationship would have a dramatic affect on what kind of information they would share.

Aside from the obvious practical issue of writing all that dialog, my grand system and others like it face a pretty serious challenge -- there's too much dialog.

The beauty of closed systems (where dialog is delivered through cut-scenes or one-shot statements) is that they can be more carefully crafted. Sure, they may sacrifice "realism," but let's face it, 90% of the words we utter are unbelievably mundane. Anyone reading this knows it's certainly true about me. A truly open-ended, flexible dialog system would be prohibitively expensive to create and populate with content.

I haven't given up on Oblivions NPCs yet. Right now I find their moodiness kind of endearing, but who knows how long that will last. I'm fickle like that.

The anatomy of a zombie

As expected, my new Xbox has found a way to cut into my game development time. There are, of course, many excuses I can employ to rationalize this. The simplest one is to blame the Xbox, as if it had a mind of its own or was being controlled remotely by Steve Ballmer himself.

That, of course, is ridiculous. Steve Ballmer would never control my Xbox himself--he would certainly get a low-level lackey to do it.

Ok, maybe it's my own fault that I'm playing so much, but at least I can tell myself that it's as much research as entertainment. How can I expect to make compelling games if I haven't even played the latest and greatest? Yes, it's definitely research.

I have learned several important lessons during this crucial research.

1. Every good first-person shooter must have an alien invasion, either from outer space or some other dimension--the more hellish the better.
2. Said aliens must have the ability to infest human corpses. Several methods are acceptable, including face grabbing, which clearly gives the alien rudimentary control of the host's motor functions, and fungal-like infestation, which transforms the host's upper body into something lumpy and terrible.
3. The zombie-like creatures that result from alien infestation must be slow-moving, hide frequently in dark corners, and be extremely hard to kill. Shotgun blasts to the head (or what's left of it) tend to be most effective.
4. Once knocked down, zombies must have the ability to get up and attack you again. While it may seem unnecessary (why not just send twice as many zombies?), it's very important to kill alien zombies correctly. A resilient zombie is a scary zombie, after all.

With such valuable insights, I'm sure you can see now why my research is so important to me. I'm also sure you'll understand if my progress on SPUDZOOKA slows down just a little bit while I study.

The happiest marriage is one filled with rock

Picked up a copy of Guitar Hero 3 tonight. Haven't played it yet, but it's only a matter of moments until I crack open that bountiful trove of rock.

This latest installment includes a co-op career mode that is quite exciting. You see, after years of eye rolling and summary dismissal of video games as a waste of time, my wife finally agreed to play Guitar Hero 2 with me (she even bought a guitar controller for herself), and she was puzzled to discover how much she liked it.

So, it's with much anticipation that I prepare for a rare period of gaming bliss when the guilt vibes are replaced by those heavenly words, "Let's just play one more song." It will only last a few weeks, so I plan to enjoy it.