Saturday, March 28, 2020

Apply Now To Be A GDC 2019 Conference Associate!

Apply Now To Be A GDC 2019 Conference Associate!


Hey there! Want to help make sure the 2019 Game Developers Conference goes off without a hitch?
Then you should consider applying now to be a volunteer Conference Associate (CA), because you can earn the equivalent of an All-Access Pass by putting in roughly 25 hours of on-site work!
Next year GDC 2019 runs from Monday, March 18th through Friday, March 22nd. Applicants chosen to be Conference Associates will be given pre-conference assignments and asked to attend a required orientation dinner on Sunday, March 17th! This is a paid position, so you must be eligible to work in the United States.
If you are accepted into the program, you are expected to be on-site from the start of your pre-conference assignments through the end of the conference on the evening of Friday, March 22nd, during conference hours. Please plan accordingly so you have no job, school, or other conflicts during that time.
What will you be doing, you ask? CA duties may include guarding doors and scanning badges, monitoring sessions, answering attendees' questions, and more. In your free time, you will be able to use your All-Access pass to do things like attend talks or visit the Expo floor.
To apply, head over to the GDC 2019 CA application page and read the instructions. The deadline for applications closes at 11:59 PM PDT, December 21st, 2018. Applicants will be notified if they are accepted (or not) by January 10th.
Applications submitted after the positions are filled will be offered the opportunity to be put on the waiting list. Applications will be accepted up until 11:59 pm (Pacific Time, UTC-8) on March 12th for the waiting list.
For more details on GDC 2019 visit the show's official website, or subscribe to regular updates via FacebookTwitter, or RSS.
Gamasutra and GDC are sibling organizations under parent company Informa

The Blog At 400 Posts

400 blog posts?   Have I really written so many?  Blogger says I have, so I'll have to accept that.  I suppose its time for one of those meta-blog entries where I talk about stuff that doesn't fit into a traditional blog post.  So let's start with a revisit of one of the only useful parts of the previous "Blog at xxx Posts" posts, the Youtube channel recommendations list.  I subscribe to many more channels these days than I used to, so let me tell you why you may want to take a look at them as well.  The channels I recommended (LGR, Pixelmusement and PushingUpRoses) in my early blog post remain recommended of course, but let's add some fresh blood to the list.  I will be using categories to help organize recommended channels, but just because a channel falls into one category does not mean it holds no value outside that pigeonhole. 

Read more »

Storium Theory: Inaction In Action

Sometimes, I see players make comments in a game, explaining why they haven't made a move in a challenge so far:

"I don't think this is something my character knows how to deal with."

"I'm not sure she cares about this."

"I think he's just kind of stunned right now.

"She doesn't know what to do."

Sometimes these are indications of a problem in the story - if all of a narrator's players are telling him their characters don't care about the current situation, it is probably time to revise the situation and figure out how to better relate it to the story at hand.

But...more often, they're a statement that is actually pointing directly at a very interesting opportunity for the character: A chance to make inaction your action.

When you're writing the story of a challenge, things are happening, whether your character is acting on them or not. Each move drives the timeline of the challenge forward. When a card is played, something happens, and the challenge moves positively or negatively, or just towards the end of its story.

So...if your character, for instance, doesn't know how to deal with something, and chooses not to act...that's a choice. And that's his "action" for that moment in the tale.

So let it be an action! Make your move! Show your character's uncertainty or confusion about what to do! Show how your character hasn't cared about the situation, if that's the case, and chooses to ignore it! Show how the situation has left your character stunned, or how he's tired and needs rest, or how his injuries prevent him from joining the battle!

Sometimes, those things are treated as reasons not to make a move, but...that's not what they should be. They are, in fact, excellent opportunities to make moves.

Especially...especially...if you have either Weakness cards to play, or a Subplot.

I'm stunned. I'm confused. I'm shell-shocked. I'm injured. I'm exhausted. I just plain don't care about this.

Those are all excellent weakness plays.

When a situation is ongoing and your character chooses not to do anything about it, that's a great opportunity to show what starts going wrong with the situation because your character is not preventing it. Philosophically, there's nothing really different here from if things start to go wrong and your character tries to prevent it and fails because of a Weakness, right? Something goes wrong either way. The difference is just that your character, in this case, didn't do something to stop it instead of doing something but getting it wrong.

What about Subplots? Well, Subplots are great for these situations too! When a character is shocked into inaction, when she finds something she doesn't care about, when he struggles to understand what he's supposed to do in a situation...those are great times to explore the other mysteries in a character's life or the things the character does care about. There are some excellent subplot moves available that show how the character withdraws into themselves, or starts thinking about how all this ties in with their personal problems, or tries to examine where they are right now...and because of all that, something starts to happen in the current situation, and they're not really sure what to do in the face of it...or even if they should do something.

A subplot isn't a weakness play, mind, so chances are nothing ends up going outright wrong right away, but you can certainly hint that something will! While your character is distracted by his own thoughts, or full of self-doubt, or struggling with what he's supposed to do, or disinterested in what is happening, how does the situation evolve?

If your character doesn't seem certain of what's going on, or doesn't know what to do, or just plain doesn't care...don't just drop out of the challenge. Use that to advance the challenge.

Now...one more point on this. Especially in the case of a character that "doesn't care" about a challenge, this can actually be a great way to figure out what would make them care, and therefore explain how a Strength comes into play, or at least how they get involved in the challenge despite their feelings. If you find yourself thinking that your character just wouldn't get involved for some reason or another, put a little time into thinking about what might happen because of that decision.

Then, write a move based on that...and maybe, maybe midway through the move, you'll realize the character now does know what to do, or does care about the situation, as she sees what is about to happen, or starts watching something she does care about slip away.

Maybe that leads to the character using a Strength and turning things around after all. Or maybe the character ends up doubling down on fear or uncertainty, or just takes the wrong action, using a Weakness. Or maybe, the character's Subplot drives him forward, making him engage with the challenge now that he's seen what it could mean if he doesn't.

Now...this isn't something you need to pull in all the time. (And to be clear, if you find yourself constantly trying to figure out why your character would get involved in something, it may be time to talk to the narrator about how to make your character mesh better with the story.) But there are times when an inability to think about something that your character would do can itself be precisely what drives the story forward and makes an interesting situation.

Don't overuse this, but...keep it in the toolbox. It's a handy trick to pull out and it can lead to some astonishingly interesting moments for a character if used properly.

Remember Spider-Man and Uncle Ben...sometimes, when your character doesn't take action, that ends up driving his story more than anything else.

Monday, March 23, 2020

Game 363: Ultima VII: The Black Gate

A deceptively pleasant introductory screen.
             
Ultima VII: The Black Gate
United States
ORIGIN Systems (developer and publisher)
Released in 1992 for DOS; 1994 for SNES
Forge of Virtue expansion released later in 1992 for DOS
Date Started: 20 March 2020

I first played Ultima VII in 1999. I had just purchased my first Windows laptop after 7 years of Mac-exclusive ownership, and I was ready to catch up on a decade of RPGs. I had staved off my addiction while serving in the Army Reserves, going to college, meeting my eventual wife, and starting my career, and it was best for all of those endeavors that I did. But life had settled down by then, and I was ready to take the risk.

The first two "new" RPGs that I played were Might and Magic VI and Ultima VII. ("New" being post-1990, when my Commodore 64 had died. By then, Ultima VII was 7 years old, of course, but I still think of it on the "new" side of the dividing line between "old" games and "new" games.) I had a similar reaction to each of them: initial distaste, followed by growing admiration, followed by absolute awe.
          
This may be the first CRPG with an expansion pack that takes place within the main quest.
            
But I still remember the reasons behind my initial reaction, and a few of them remain valid criticisms. I bought it as part of an Ultima anthology, so I would have played it after hitting Ultima IV-VI in quick succession. Compared to the small, crisp icons of the previous games, the Ultima VII characters seemed impossibly lanky and awkward. The creators must have taken to heart the criticisms of the tiny Ultima VI game window because they made the entire screen the game window--but then they zoomed it in so much that you still only see a tiny area.

They removed the ability to choose a character portrait, and I hated--still hate, really--the long blond-haired jerk that I'm forced to play. The guy looks like he's about 50, which doesn't bother me as much today as it did then. The typed keyword-based dialogue that I absolutely cherished had been replaced by clicking on words spoon-fed to you by the game. And then there was all the clicking! For the first time, the Ultima interface wasn't using my beloved keyboard shortcuts but instead wanted me to click around on things. I hate that now and I hated it more then, when the mouse was still new and uncomfortable.
          
I still find everything about this screen annoying.
          
Finally, there was the plot. 200 years have passed?! And all my old companions are still alive?! Who is this Red Thanos taunting me through the computer screen? And what in Lord British's name have they done to Lord British?!

This is all to say that I'm glad I'm not playing Ultima VII for the first time. This is a game that vastly benefits in a replay, at a point where I've accepted its weaknesses but also have a full understanding of its strengths. In fact, the position that I'm in right now--knowing that I'm in for a good game but not remembering much of it because I haven't played it in maybe 13 years--is just about perfect.

So let's back up and note all the things that the game does right, starting with the animated, voiced introduction, perfectly scored. The game opens on a pleasant scene of Britannia. A butterfly dances around a grassy hillside at the edge of a forest. There's a lilting tune with a timbre suggesting an organ but a melody suggesting more of a flute.
                
The first appearance of the Guardian.
           
But after a few seconds, the music fades and is replaced with an ominous, themeless tune in a low register. Black and blue static fill the screen. A red face with glowing yellow eyes and teeth like rocks pushes through the screen to address the player directly:
               
Avatar! Know that Britannia has entered into a new age of enlightenment. Know that the time has finally come for the one true Lord of Britannia to take his place at the head of his people. Under my guidance, Britannia will flourish, and all the people shall rejoice and pay homage to their new Guardian! Know that you, too, shall knell before me, Avatar. You, too, shall soon acknowledge my authority, for I shall be your companion, your provider, and your master!
            
I would note that in contrast to the comically awful narrations at the beginning of both Ultima Underworld and Ultima VII: Part Two, the Guardian's voice is reasonably well-acted by Arthur DiBianca, who I gather was just a programmer who happened to have a nice bass voice. [Edit: I was wrong. The Guardian was voiced by a professional actor, Bill Johnson, who remained with the character for the rest of the series. He also played Leatherface in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.] The voice immediately gives us a paradox because the Guardian looks like an ape, an orc, a monster, yet his voice is clear, his speech intelligent and articulated. Just what kind of foe are we facing? One who knows who we are, who has the ability to push through into our world.

(Incidentally, having never played Ultima VIII or Ultima IX, I still don't really know the answers to the questions about the Guardian's origin and motivations. I know it'll be tough, but I'd appreciate if no one spoils it.)
            
As the screen fades, the camera pulls back to show that the player is somehow playing Ultima VII on his computer, with a map of Britannia and a Moonstone sitting beside it. No, it doesn't make sense. Don't think about it.
          
I can't not think about it. How is my character playing Ultima VII? Does he have his own character? How far down does it go?
           
"It has been a long time since your last visit to Britannia," the title screen says, two years constituting "a long time" back in those heady days of annual releases. The character picks up his moonstone and heads out to the circle of stones in his back yard--only to find a moongate already there. Without hesitation, he plunges through to the title screen, which features not the triumphant, adventurous introductory music of most RPGs but rather a dark, dreadful march in 2/4 time. Something awful is coming, it says.
                
I'm not sure this ever gets answered.
         
Before we get into character creation and the opening moments of the game, let's diverge to the manual, which is perhaps the most brilliant game manual of all time--a superlative unlikely to ever be broken now that game manuals no longer exist. It manages to educate the player on the basics of Britannia and the past Ultima games while perfectly serving the plot of the current game. It is the only manual that I know that was written by the game's villain. I realize that's a bit of a spoiler, but you'd have to be a particularly dense player to not realize that something is at least a little fishy with "Batlin of Britain," and a veteran player of the Ultima series reads it with an escalating horror.

The manual is called The Book of Fellowship, and it describes the history, geography, and society of Britannia in the context of the growth of a quasi-religious/philosophical order called the Fellowship. Jimmy Maher has a particularly excellent article examining the parallels between the Fellowship and the Church of Scientology. (Garriott had apparently read a 1991 Time magazine exposé of the Church while the game was in its planning phase.) But I also see a lot of the (then-) growing "prosperity gospel" in the Fellowship, and Batlin strikes me as much of a Joel Osteen (although no one at ORIGIN would have been aware of him in 1992) as an L. Ron Hubbard. One particular analogue with prosperity theology (and not Scientology) is the organization's "layered" approach to scripture. The Fellowship does not reject the Eight Virtues of the Avatar any more than prosperity theology rejects the Bible. It simply adds its own new layer of interpretation (simplification) on top of them, encouraging its followers to hold true to the past without really focusing on it. The emphasis is all on the new material--in the case of the Fellowship, their Triad of Inner Strength.

The manual begins with Batlin of Britain's introduction of himself. He presents himself with false humility as just a regular man, a fellow "traveller" through life, who has happened to stumble upon a bit of wisdom that he wants to share. Throughout his biography, he brags-without-bragging that he has served in all eight of the classical Ultima roles: Born and raised by druids in Yew, a first career as a fighter in Jhelom, then as a bard in Britain; trained by a mage from Moonglow; serving for a while among a company of paladins in Trinsic and as a tinker in Minoc; and finally spending a sojourn with the rangers of Skara Brae before ending up as a humble shepherd in New Magincia. His series of portraits through these sessions show a square-jawed, hale, charismatic figure, and it's no surprise when we actually meet him in-game to find a fatter, oilier version than is presented in the official portraits.
            
What kind of pretentious jackass divides his own biography into sections called "part the first" and "part the second"?
             
During his description of overcoming some wounds in Minoc, Batlin says:
              
A healer there told me that without the proper treatments (for which he charged outrageous prices) I would most probably die! I angrily sent him away. After a time I did mend. I had learned that the healing process takes place mostly in one's mind and have since placed no trust in healers who greedily prey upon the afflicted.
               
Here is our first actual contradiction with the world as we've come to know it as an Avatar. It manages to parallel Scientology's rejection of traditional psychology, sure, but also the Christian Science rejection of traditional medicine and perhaps "New Age" medicine in general.

He describes in his history how he met his two co-founders of the Fellowship, Elizabeth and Abraham (the "E.A." being an intended swipe at Electronic Arts, which would have the last laugh by purchasing ORIGIN the same year), and how his experiences led him to develop the Triad of Inner Strength. If the casual reader is not yet convinced of Batlin's villainy, it should become apparent in the section where he discusses the "ratification" of the Fellowship by Lord British. Though calling him "wise" and paying him obsequious homage, Batlin manages to paint the king as a capricious, dismissive sovereign, uninterested in the Fellowship until Batlin managed to "prove" himself with a display of confidence that manages to reflect the Fellowship's own philosophies. The section brilliantly manages to associate Batlin with the king and the king's favor (for those who still admire the king) while also planting a seed of doubt about Lord British's fitness to rule.

What he does to the Avatar is less subtle but far more damaging. Batlin knows that if his Fellowship is going to replace the Eight Virtues as Britannia's predominant theology, and if he himself is going to replace the Avatar as the spiritual figurehead, he must undo the Avatar. But the memory of the Avatar is too popular, his friends too influential, for Batlin to use a direct attack. Thus, he snipes and undermines and saps from all angles while pretending to admire the Avatar himself. "The Fellowship fully supports the Eight Virtues of the Avatar," he says, but that "it is impossible to perfectly live up to them. Even the Avatar was unable to do so continuously and consistently." Thus pretending to support the Eight Virtues while rejecting them, he introduces the Fellowship's Triad of Inner Strength:
            
  1. Strive for Unity: Work together to achieve common goals.
  2. Trust Thy Brother: Don't live your life full of suspicion and doubt.
  3. Worthiness Precedes Reward: Do good for its own sake before expecting compensation.
  
Maher's article points out how these three principles are not only kindergarten-level theology, but how easy it is to twist them towards evil ends. "Work together, don't question, don't ask anything in return" could be the motto of a fascist organization as easily as a charitable one.

Most of the slights against the Avatar occur during the second half of the manual, ominously titled "A Reinterpretation of the History of Britannia." Batlin walks through the events of Ultima I through VI much as the previous game manuals did, but with the occasional anti-Avatar salvo disguised as support. For instance, after describing the events of Ultima II, he says:
          
While there have been speculations as to the motivations of the Avatar, there is insufficient evidence to show that the Avatar was driven to violence by jealously over Mondain's romantic involvement with Minax. That being said, such theories are hereby denounced and should not be given consideration.
           
Soon afterwards, he "formally disagrees" with "those who say the Avatar should have handled [the events of Exodus] differently." He casts aspersions--no, sorry, alludes to other people casting aspersions--on the Avatar's motives in the Quest of the Avatar. As for Ultima VI: "Those who say that this terrible and destructive war could have been prevented had the Avatar not appropriated the Codex from its true owners are merely dissidents who are grossly misinformed." Leaving aside the fact that the Avatar wasn't the one who took the Codex, Batlin commits here the slimy politician's trick of introducing a slur while simultaneously denying it, thus seeding doubt while trying to remain above it. I've learned the hard way to at least try to keep politics out of my blog, but it's literally impossible not to think of Donald ("many people are saying") Trump when reviewing this aspect of the Batlin character or indeed the Batlin character as a whole. If I didn't say it here, someone would have filled in the blank in the comments as they did in the Maher article.

Aside from the undermining of the Eight Virtues, Lord British, and the Avatar, the manual is notable for numerous asides that make the veteran player eager to jump in and start swinging his sword. In his description of his time as a fighter, Batlin talks about "unruly lords wag[ing] war against each other . . . over Lord British's objections." Clearly, peace has broken down, but why? We later hear that Skara Brae is for some reason a "desolate ruin" (remind me to come back to another Batlin quote when I actually visit Skara Brae). Lock Lake near the city of Cove has become polluted. The town of Paws is said to be languishing in poverty. Some mysterious figure called the "Sultan of Spektran" has set up his own government on the island previously occupied by Sutek. The gargoyles have their own city, called Terfin, but there's a suggestion that local mines might be exploiting them for labor. Runic writing has fallen out of favor. There have been recent droughts. And worst of all, magic has been breaking down and its practitioners going insane.

Perhaps the biggest shock is that it has been 200 years since the Avatar last visited Britannia. This is presumably since his last visit in Ultima VI, not Ultima Underworld. The manual makes no acknowledgement at all of the events of Underworld; no mention is made of a colony on the Isle of the Avatar, nor its destruction in a volcanic eruption.

Ultima IV: Quest of the Avatar still has the best quest of the series, in my opinion, but Ultima VII may have the best plot. This isn't the first time that a CRPG has featured writing and plotting worthy of a novel (I would probably give that award to Starflight), but it's still rare in the era. I understand that we owe this depth of narrative to lead writer Raymond Benson, who would later go on to take over the James Bond novel series. Benson was a playwright and composer who had previously worked on computer adaptations of Stephen King's The Mist (1985) and the James Bond games A View to a Kill (1985) and Goldfinger (1985). He was recruited by ORIGIN in 1991 and wrote some dialogue for Martian Dreams before beginning Ultima VII.

Someone like Benson was exactly what ORIGIN needed. The company may have "created worlds," but they always did so in a way that was both a little sloppy and a little too tidy, with poor respect for their own canon. I have discussed at length my disappointment over the way the game treated the concept of "the Avatar" after Ultima IV. Well, here, in the opening documentation of Ultima VII, we have an in-game character who personifies that lack of respect, who manages to take the confusion over ORIGIN's retcons--was the Avatar really the same hero who defeated Mondain?--and twist it to his own ends. When I finished the manual in 1999, I was never more eager to leap into a world and start putting things right. I am only slightly less eager now.

Note: To avoid loading transitions and other throwbacks to an earlier age, the developers of Ultima VII changed the way DOS allocates memory. Their solution required players to boot from a special disk. I remember that this created all kinds of problems when I originally tried to play the game in the late 1990s. Also, processors had gotten so much faster that the characters moved at lightning speed, and I had to use a special program called Mo'Slo to slow things down. I don't think I ever got the sound working properly back then. The emulation era and the folks at GOG sure make this much easier.

Sunday, March 22, 2020

Get Your Household Ready for Coronavirus Disease (COVID-19)


Dear Families,

The Coronavirus (Covid-19) is wreaking havoc around the world. But if you know how to

"Virus-Proof Your Life" you can prevent this invasive pathogen from getting past your

natural defenses. developed using the latest, cutting edge research from major colleges
and institutions across the globe.


Please go through this link and check what it's trying to tell you!





Thanks
Dr. Christopher Kawa, DC



P.S. : I've been in practice for almost 29 years and every day I'm researching the latest scientific evidence on
heath so that I can teach my patients to function better and avoid disease. This special, one-of-a-kind e-book contains
the latest, essential factors that lead to a strong immune system; one that can fight off bacteria and viruses with the
God-given tools that we all have inside of us. I want to share this wisdom with you so that you and your family can all
live happy, healthy lives.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



























 

Saturday, March 21, 2020

Coronavirus disease (COVID-19) advice for the public.


Dear Families,

The Coronavirus (Covid-19) is wreaking havoc around the world. But if you know how to

"Virus-Proof Your Life" you can prevent this invasive pathogen from getting past your

natural defenses. developed using the latest, cutting edge research from major colleges
and institutions across the globe.


Please go through this link and check what it's trying to tell you!





Thanks
Dr. Christopher Kawa, DC



P.S. : I've been in practice for almost 29 years and every day I'm researching the latest scientific evidence on
heath so that I can teach my patients to function better and avoid disease. This special, one-of-a-kind e-book contains
the latest, essential factors that lead to a strong immune system; one that can fight off bacteria and viruses with the
God-given tools that we all have inside of us. I want to share this wisdom with you so that you and your family can all
live happy, healthy lives.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



























 

Friday, March 20, 2020

Monster Boy And The Cursed Kingdom Review (Steam)

Written by Alexander O. Cuaycong


Title: Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom
Developer: Game Atelier
Publisher: FDG Entertainment
Genre: Action, Adventure
Price: $29.99
Also Available On: Switch, PS4, XB1



Based solely on how Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom looks and feels, Game Atelier clearly put a lot of heart into its creation. From its stylistic art design to its tight, metroidvania gameplay, it presents itself with aplomb — no small feat considering its history. Having descended from the lauded Wonder Boy franchise that used to grace arcade machines and Sega consoles alike, it had huge shoes to fill upon its release.

In Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom, players control Jin, a young boy who journeys out to stop Nabu, his uncle, from causing havoc across the land. Nabu had been turning people into animals, and by standing up to his uncle, Jin put himself in danger, and soon finds himself turned into an animal as well. In order to undo this animal curse, he must find and make use of five special animal orbs scattered throughout the land. Only by harnessing their power can he hope to right the wrongs that his uncle had made, and undo the spell that keeps them bound as they are.




Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom has a simple a premise as can be expected from the series, and it unfolds pleasantly. From the moment the game starts, its artstyle simply pops off the screen with its bright visual design and old-style anime aesthetics. Monster designs are particularly nice to look at, and serve as simple but effective callbacks to a much simpler time, when games weren't rendered three-dimensionally, but were instead two-dimensional art assets made with much care and love.

Just as well-crafted as the aesthetics are the stages themselves. While Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom's gameplay is standard metroidvania, it boasts of levels that rise above the usual dregs of the genre. For the most part, they manage to be just right, both in terms of presentation and length. They never outstay their welcome, and are often presented with various twists in their design that force the player to make use of many animal forms to progress. While some of these levels require back-tracking, they never really feels like busywork. Every new obstacle surpassed feels like an actual accomplishment, and in many ways, the endeavor encourages and rewards players to explore the environment and to not be afraid to take their time.




This does, however, open up some core issues in the game itself. While exploring Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom's levels can be fun and entertaining, engaging in combat is anything but. Its controls are responsive, but the general lack of weight of battles feels quite strange. It never kills the enjoyment, but it does leave encounters with enemies feeling less satisfying than they normally should be, as these tend to lack impact and feel more like minor obstacles than challenges of strength.

Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom's puddle design is another cause for concern. It varies wildly from straight-forward and fun, to rather cryptic and confusing. While it's not usually a problem, it can really dampen gamers' enjoyment and sense of accomplishment, especially when parts of the game can drag along purely because of the puzzle's existence.




All in all, though, Monster Boy and the Forgotten Kingdom is a worthy purchase for any fan of side-scrolling metroidvania. Minor issues do exist, but gamers can easily breeze past these and tear into its plentiful content without too much of a fuss. Highly recommended.



THE GOOD
  • Tight, responsive controls, with very fluid and intuitive gameplay
  • Great art and aesthetic design
  • Plenty of hours of well-designed side-scrolling content available

THE BAD
  • Some cryptic puzzles can kill pacing
  • Combat tends to lack impact for the most part


RATING: 8.5/10

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Ishar: Legend Of The Fortress: Won! (With Summary And Rating)

Our hero does . . . something . . . in celebration of his victory.
          
Ishar: Legend of the Fortress
France
Silmarils (developer and publisher)
Released in 1992 for DOS, Amiga, and Atari ST
Date Started: 22 February 2020
Date Finished: 10 March 2020
Total Hours: 21
Difficulty: Moderate-Hard (3.5/5)
Final Rating: (to come later)
Ranking at time of posting: (to come later)
 
Summary:
First of a trilogy for which Crystals of Arborea (1990) served as a prologue, Ishar offers a classic kill-the-evil warlord adventure with tile-based, first-person gameplay similar to Dungeon Master or Eye of the Beholder. It has excellent graphics and sound but limited RPG mechanics, including combat and spell tactics, character development, inventory, and puzzle-solving. A couple of original features include a party morale system by which party members can override the player's choice to recruit or dismiss a character and a saving system that requires the party to pay gold, but neither really plays much of a role in the end.

****

I could have gotten three more entries out of Ishar, as this final entry covers more than 15 hours. But I played it over a week-long period in which I was moving from one house to another, and something about the process made it easier to just keep playing than to stop and write. I apologize if I elide anything important in my summary below, but the good news is that a lot of Ishar's gameplay is repetitive. The constant need to replenish your supplies and find a tavern for food and sleep means that you backtrack frequently to the towns of the west while overall gameplay drives you east.
               
Approaching the titular fortress.
        
When I blogged last time, I had explored about half the game, having just crossed the bridge into the land of Silmartil. Lands further along include Kandomir, Urshurak, Vargaeon, Baldaron, Zendoria, Gil-Aras, Uldonyar, Elwingil, Halindor, Fhulgrod, and finally Valathar. That sounds like a lot of territories, but each one generally only has a couple of (respawning) monsters and a couple of encounters. The entire game world consists of four outdoor villages, two indoor cities, two dungeons, and a smattering of huts and other wilderness encounters. It spreads across the entire game what Might and Magic would have on a single 16 x 16 map.

The culmination of the game was far to the east, in the large dungeon (or, I suppose, fortress) actually called Ishar. But to survive its perils, I had to solve several sub-quests in the main game area.

When I last blogged, my party consisted of Aramir the warrior (the starting character), the monk "Unknown," Nasheer the spy, Kiriela the priestess, and Golnal the warrior. Golnal and Unknown were pretty ineffective, and redundant, so I soon replaced Golnal with a paladin named Karorn, and eventually I dumped Unknown for a wizard named Zeloran. To get around party members overriding my dismissals, I simply put the unwanted characters at the front of the party with no armor, and I let them get killed by the next enemy.
         
This is infuriating. I don't know why some NPCs do it and some don't.
        
Nasheer eventually took off while we were sleeping, so I replaced her with a third warrior named Manatar. I liked that balance, but soon afterwards I had to get rid of Manatar to accommodate a quest NPC--a spoiled princess named Deloria who had been kidnapped from her village in Baldaron. I found her in a building in Elwingil, the furthest city to the east.
           
Manatar had good stats, but he wasn't with us for long.
         
Returning her to her father rewarded the party with a vital key to Ishar, but getting her out of the party was a bit of a chore. Karorn decided he was in love with her and refused to let her go. I tried killing Karorn, but his infatuation simply transferred to Aramir, and I didn't want to kill him.
              
Oh, boy. Here we go.
          
The solution to that problem involved a potion. Potions become important in the game during the second half, and it took me a while to figure out how they work. First, you have to find an empty vial, of which there is only one in the entire game, in the dungeon in Rhudgast.
         
The manual gives you the formulas but not the effects.
        
I had previously noted that various shops sell reagents like rat's brains and salamander oil. The manual tells what proportions of these reagents you need to make various potions, but it gives them nonsense names like "Trillix" and "Bymph." What you have to do is find an alchemist named Jon the Unique in Kandomir, who gives you a scroll that translates the nonsense names into actual potion effects. (I think these might be randomized for each game as a copy protection exercise, but I'm not sure.) The manual has recipes for 15 potions, but the scroll only translates eight of them: "Physical Regeneration," "Psychic Regeneration," "Invulnerability," "Cure Blindness," "Apnea," "Disrupt Charme," "Pig Detransformation," and "Brain Wash."
         
A scroll in the game tells you which words correspond to which effects.
         
"Disrupt Charme" turned out to be the potion I wanted, but it required a unique ingredient, "turtle slobber." Fortunately, I'd managed to obtain a vial by first finding a turtle near the sea in Silmatil and then giving it to an alchemist in Zendoria. I fed the potion to Karorn, and he got over his objection to losing Deloria.
             
Where did Jarel get the key to Ishar?
           
By this time, I was so enamored with my wizard, Zeloran, that I decided to fill the empty NPC slot with another one. I found one named Khalin in Elwingil. I spent a fortune getting them both equipped with the "Lightning" spell, which damages all visible enemies on the screen and makes wizards more valuable than warriors except that psychic energy runs out faster than physical energy.
             
Blasting dwarf-bandits with "Lightning."
          
A lot of the game's magic system is wasted. It costs so much to purchase spells that even by the end of the game, each of my spellcasting characters only had three or four. There's no point wasting money on "Healing 3" when three castings of "Healing 1" do the same thing. I never explored a lot of useful-sounding spells like "Dissolve" (turns the party into a gas cloud that can blow through enemies) or "Inversion" (changes NPC alignments). Some of them seem useless--I never encountered any poison for "Cure Poison" or any invisible enemies for "Invisibility Detection" (except for one that you can't detect that way). "Radar," "Invisible Party," and "Invulnerability" aren't even described in the manual, just listed. "Regeneration," "Resurrection," and "Repulse" (sends all your enemies to hell!) could have been useful but I just never had the money. I basically had my wizards cast "Lightning" (and "Mental Shield" when it was clear it was needed) and my priest and paladin cast "Healing I," and that was it.
           
I never learned most of these spells.
          
Money is tight throughout the game. You need it for sleeping and eating--one meal and one night's rest costs over $2,000 in the eastern cities--saving ($1000 each), reagents (enough for a single potion might cost $7,000), spells, weapons and armor, and the occasional training. The shop in Elwingil sold high-level weapons and armor, and by the end of the game I was able to get my two warriors into magic armor and wielding the best swords, but no one else. I spent most of my spare gold on potion reagents because potions of "Physical Regeneration" and "Psychic Regeneration" are worth every penny if you're far from a tavern.

Meanwhile, the places that train characters in strength, agility, and intelligence (I never found one that trained constitution) seem to be there to compensate for very weak characters, not to provide regular character development to already-strong ones. Every time you try to train, there's a chance that it will go very well (increasing the attribute by 2 points), just okay (+1), or poorly (+0). I don't think I ever saw an attribute increase when it was already past 10. Thus, for most characters the only form of development is by leveling, which improves maximum health. Several of my characters hit level caps (Level 10) near the end of the game, but not everyone did.

I grinded quite a bit for my gold and still arrived at Ishar mostly broke. (Ishar itself has tens of thousands of gold pieces, but you'd have to slog them back to civilization while very near the endgame.) I decided the best way to grind was to repeatedly enter and exit the two indoor cities in Elwingil and Urshurak. Each one spawns about half a dozen orcs that leave 500 or 1000 gold pieces each. Repeatedly entering and exiting the city was a good way to build both wealth and experience.
         
By killing a large knight in Osghirod, I got a special helmet that allows you to see invisible enemies. This let me kill the invisible lizardman Brozl, who roams the huge area called Fimnuirh, and to loot from him five fire protection rings.

I spent a lot of time tracking down five rune tablets that you need for the final battle, or you can't hit Krogh. One was out in the open, on a pedestal in Lotheria. A second was in a hut in Zendoria called "The Forbidden House," so-named because my characters got cursed and slowly died of a wasting sickness after entering. I had to inoculate them with a potion before entering. Another was in the dungeon in Rhudgast. A fourth was on a pedestal in the outdoor area called Gil-Aras, but the party went blind the moment I entered the province. I had to use the "Cure Blindness" potion to see well enough to explore the small area. The fifth was in Ishar itself.
            
A rune tablet in an area that causes blindness the moment you enter.
         
In a house in Elwingil, one of Jarel's companions from Arborea, Thurm, gave the party five monks' robes that would disguise us as initiates in a certain place in Ishar.
          
Eventually, having explored everything else, I entered a teleporter in Halindor and found myself across the channel in Valathar. The entrance to Ishar is in the northeastern part of this island, but there were a few things to do first, including defeating the wizard who guarded the entrance. In the far southeast past some encounters with much tougher dwarf-bandits than I'd faced before, I found a pig standing in the middle of the forest. Since a wandering alchemist had recently given me some toad eye, a necessary ingredient for "Pig Detransformation," I figured that's what I wanted to use. I mixed the potion and applied it to the pig, and it transformed into an old woman named Morgula who offered to join my party.
             
When there's a potion called "Transform from Pig" and you find a pig, it's not hard to figure out what to do.
                       
I was reluctant to get rid of Khalin, but I figured Morgula must be special in some way since I had to go through so much trouble to get her. Sure enough, although she's weak as hell and her physical energy depletes while you watch, she has a spell called "Anti-Krogh." After I won the game and was doing my usual post-game research, I found that several web sites claim that Morgula is Krogh's mother, but I don't know where they get that, as her name appears nowhere in the backstory or in any of the NPC dialogue.
           
How do you turn down that kind of appeal?
         
It was finally time to take on Ishar. The fortress is quite large, with three separate sections separated by teleporters. There are numerous doors that you have to find keys to open, and one area that serves as the game's only real puzzle: a sequence of six levers, each controlling two doors in a small maze of corridors. You have to find the right sequence of levers to open the right doors, which I did through trial and error. There's a huge area full of poison gas that you have to mix five "Apnea" potions to successfully traverse.
          
A lever puzzle took much of the time in the final dungeon.
          
At one point, I killed a mage and looted from him an object that looks like the Silmarils logo, but I never found anything to do with it.
          
Anybody want to take a guess?
         
The final corridor features multiple encounters in succession. First, a medusa, for whom you need "Mental Shield" active for everyone to avoid petrification.
          
Why does it look like medusa is a statue? She's supposed to turn people into statues?
          
Then there's a huge red dragon. It takes a long time to kill him--and my primary fighter had to drink two "Physical Regeneration" potions during the process--but he doesn't do much damage as long as you have the gold rings from Brozl.
           
Poor dragon looks like he's cramped.
          
After the dragon was a door we had to be wearing our robes to enter . . .
            
This is the first I've heard of Krogh starting some kind of cult.
         
. . . then a corridor full of individual fights with spellcasters.
          
Killing wizards in the final corridor. I thought this was Krogh at first.
         
It all culminated with Krogh himself. He had a powerful magic attack, but it only took three castings of "Anti-Krogh" to kill him. I assumed it would be harder. I guess maybe it is if you don't take Morgula.
          
The evil Krogh. Fortunately, Morgula has a spell called "Anti-Krogh."
           
Alas, there was no real endgame. After Krogh died, the game played some triumphant music while one of my characters--Aramir, I guess--knelt in a circle of rotating pillars and held a crown above his head.
            
One element of the game that I never solved: there's a sword in a stone that was supposedly left there by Jarel when he swore off violence. Despite the message, I couldn't pull it out at any level or with the highest strength statistics.
          
Any ideas?
         
In a GIMLET, the game receives:
         
  • 3 points for the game world. I like the layout, but otherwise it's a generic high-fantasy place with a generic high-fantasy quest. 1992 CRPG addicts are no longer satisfied with vaguely-described evil overlords trying to take over the world just because they're evil.
  • 3 points for character creation and development. There's no creation process, just an assemblage of party members from the NPCs you find across the land. Development is quiet, almost invisible, and besides those of wizards and warriors, the game really doesn't call upon the varied skills of its other classes. 
  • 4 points for NPC interaction. There are a few fixed NPCs who provide hints and items, and then there are the NPCs who can join the party. I'll allow a point for the uniqueness of Ishar's approach to alignment, where party members must vote to admit or expel new members, and apparently you can order one NPC to kill another, perhaps creating ramifications down the line (I never explored this), but none of it amounted to anything.
            
A few unnecessary hints do not constitute much in the way of "RPGs."
          
  • 2 points for encounters and foes. There aren't really any non-combat encounters, and monsters are generic high-fantasy denizens with the standard types of attacks. They're not even named on-screen. I thought the respawn rate was useful.
         
Here was a powerful thing from inside the final dungeon.
         
  • 2 points for magic and combat. Even if I'd bought all the spells, I don't think they really would have afforded much in the way of combat "tactics." There isn't much to do in combat but attack, cast, and keep an eye on the related meters. The party deployment grid is mostly wasted, and you can't even do the "combat waltz" or other strategies common to Dungeon Master-style games.
  • 4 points for equipment. You have a reasonably good selection of weapons and armor, with numbers denoting their relative effectiveness. The potion system isn't bad except that you only have one flask.
         
This shop in Elwingil offers the best weapons and armor.
        
  • 6 points for the economy. It remains relevant to the end, and I like the way that it forces you to make tough choices throughout the game. It just lacks a certain complexity that I would need for a higher score, plus perhaps more of a "money sink" in those attribute trainings.
  • 2 points for a main quest with some sub-quests but no side-quests. There are no alternate endings or player choices.
  • 6 points for graphics, sound, and interface. The graphics and sound are some of the best we've seen, just about perfect for the scale and nature of the game. I particularly appreciated the ambient sounds (including a murmur of voices in the taverns that I came to believe was "I'm riding down to Livermore with some recruits"). The music is suitably epic, though in my case turned off. The interface was only okay; too much mouse, too little keyboard.
  • 6 points for gameplay. It has some minor nonlinearity and minor replayability (with a different party configuration). It's almost perfect in its challenge (including its enforcement of limited saving) and its length.
            
That gives us a final score of 38. That seems about right. I was thinking that it should at least cross into "recommended" territory, but in the end the game is too sophomoric in core RPG mechanics to break into the "truly good" range.
           
          
I expected the Amiga version to do quite well in European reviews (most U.S. publications, including Computer Gaming World, don't seem to have taken note of it), so I was surprised to find mostly low scores even in Amiga magazines. Scores ranged from 48 (Power Play, September 1992) to 89 (CU Amiga, July 1992). The consensus seems to be the same as mine: the graphics are great, but it lacks in RPG mechanics like combat and character development, and it doesn't have much of a plot. A few noted that with a Dungeon Master-style interface, they expected Dungeon Master-style puzzles. A paragraph from the British Amiga Action (July 1992), which gave it an 82, is representative:
           
Noticeably distinguished in the graphics area, Ishar: Legend of the Fortress plays almost as well as it looks . . . Perhaps the downfall of Ishar is its simplicity; you begin to wish for more activity, interaction, and involvement, more problems and less roaming . . . Certainly a valiant effort by Silmarils and, if they can learn from this, a firm foundation for a sequel.
           
Not everyone felt as positively as I did about the pay-to-save mechanism. My fellow blogger, Saintus, abandoned it after one session for that reason. Magazines, if they mentioned it, mentioned it negatively. In contrast, a lot is made in the magazine reviews about the party morale or alignment system in which characters form bonds, defy orders, and "have their own personalities," none of which is reflected in the game in any interesting way. I suppose Ishar did some trailblazing here, but I'll concede that an NPC "has his own personality" when he actually says something. Yes or no votes on other party members aren't quite enough.
                                             
Does this really add that much?
              
Silmarils will have plenty of opportunities to continue to improve on this system. Ishar 2: Messengers of Doom will be along in 1993 and Ishar 3: The Seven Gates of Infinity in 1994. We also might have them for Robinson's Requiem (1994) depending on my decision on the genre. After that, Silmarils changes its focus to action games and ultimately goes out of business in 2003.

Although some commenters have suggested a certain amount of "Frenchiness" to this game, I think it's safe to say that we've long-since exited the era of truly outré French titles like Mandragore (1985) and Tera: La Cité des Crânes (1986). Instead, Silmarils seems to be following early-1990s Germany by producing copies of successful American games, albeit with some of their own twists. I'll miss the bizarre nature of the 1985-1989 French "golden age," but then again there are still a few titles on my clean-up list.

I gave the choice of the next "upcoming" game to Sebastian, who designed my banner, and he opted for Lands of Lore (1993). That'll be along in a few games. Next we'll finally take a look at Planet's Edge.