Duke Reivier's Grand Game Emporium

 So, as it happens, I managed to reexperience some of Final Fantasy 6 through a Let's Play of its Pixel Remaster. On the whole, the game remains enjoyable and entertaining as an experience, despite some aspects that haven't aged very well. But that made me ponder what I liked about it, and I think I have found a rather simple, if seemingly contrarian answer: Final Fantasy 6 is a story about losers. Think about it. Terra, the very first protagonist we're introduced to, is a vacuous woman who constantly struggles with doubts about herself and her decisions. Locke, well, he constantly has complexes over a girlfriend who died ages ago and whose corpse he constantly preserves in a basement attended to by a creepy guy. Edgar? Sabin? Well, they're definitely a touch more adjusted than most of the protagonists, but are by no means flawless beings, and definitely no selfless paladins in shining armor. Edgar is, as is often noted, a smart and capable ruler who also happens to be ...

So, I just got done watching a rather amazing and hilarious LP of Xenogears, over here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLMthTW4vRq8bNjz1PVnn-2YCTWc5vHJ1O Doubtless it is an extremely flawed game, like so many overambitious games; the combat mechanics are undercooked, the dungeon design is horrible, many of the story beats are, at best, loosely connected with each other, and the game simply seems to have no idea about how to effectively exposit its narrative details or provide satisfying bits of gameplay. Yet, despite it all, I find it to possess a strange, compelling charm. It is absurd, for sure, overblown for sure too, and has more than its fair share of writing issues, but at the heart of it all, it's very sincere about what it's trying to be. Rarely does it ever feel like a story moment was inserted just for its own sake, and while there are absolutely moments that drag, there are just as many that are solidly hilarious or moving. It helps that the game knows how to ...

 Today, while discussing the stories of Chrono Trigger and Chrono Cross with a friend, I hit upon what is a hitherto unexplored angle regarding Kato's writing - Kato writes mainly about proud and grand empires falling to ruin. Seen in this light, the connections between CT and CC become a lot clearer, and CC's narrative choices look considerably more plausible. Take, for example, the Zeal arc in CT, Masato Kato's biggest contribution to that game's story. Now I know from interactions and general posts by CT fans that it is usually considered to be one of the game's highest points. Much less talked about, however, is what its central theme is - that being a grand, if decadent civilization falling into ruin, and its survivors coping with the loss. If we look at CC through this lens, then a fair number of its plot points snap neatly into place. For example, Guardia and Chronopolis fall because they are grand kingdoms, and Masato wanted to write about grand kingdoms fal...

Repost of a review I wrote two years ago, saving it for posterity and better visibility. It holds pretty well even today. I think the game is an interesting and surprisingly heavy story of people stuck between the politics of two warmongering empires. I particularly like the character writing for the two central leads, Lunair and Revier. They start out rough, but over time, solidly build up a complimenting relationship, featuring reckless, well intentioned bravado on one side, and cold, calculated yet oddly humane pragmatism on the other. But that's the rub - it takes so long to truly get going. The first Act is extremely rough, and even when getting to the considerably tighter second Act, there are still multiple rough patches of poorly paced and ill fitting scenes to get past. However, the experience at the end is worth it - there's an intensely tense plot involving high politics and personal stakes, which eventually escalates to a dramatic, sober finish. The third and fourt...

 Those who are aware of Suikoden 2's plot need little introduction to Jowy, and little convincing that he is a charlatan of the highest degree. His "career" is marked by little that isn't deception or underhanded murder, and he ends up pointlessly dragging out a destructive war that ends with his kingdom being decisively defeated by a stronger opposing force, led by the hero himself. Yet, strangely, I found the scene where he got redeemed and forgiven of all his sins oddly striking and appealing. So I decided to do a little soul searching and figure out exactly what about this scene impressed me so greatly. The idea of anybody being capable of redemption is of course nothing new. Many religions have stories talking about how even the most vile of people were saved by, of course, turning a new leaf and enthusiastically adopting the tenets of the religion narrating the story. The idea presented in these is fairly straightforward, both in explanation and appeal - redempt...

After revisiting Valkyrie Profile with Elias , I think I've identified what makes it feel a little underwhelming to me. 1. Truncated characters: Most of your party members are people who have no real story or flavor outside of what their sad story paints. Which would be fine, except... 2. The mechanics make it so that most characters feel samey. The fighters have some peculiarities to their moves, the archers can shoot the enemy back row, and the spellcasters cast spells, but otherwise, most of them *feel* the same. The fighters don't have any moves beyond "hit the enemy in melee a bunch", the archers mostly just have weak variants of the one move, and every spellcaster can learn every spell in the game, with minimal difference in competence. Now, it's true that there are special moves to distinguish at least the fighters and archers. But truth is, most special moves don't get to fire in regular battles, and often can only be used once or twice, practically ...

 Yesterday, I was talking about the classic Fallout games' openings with a friend of mine, and we both arrived at an uncannily accurate observation: most RPGs in general, no matter the developer or the culture it came from, have terrible, or at best mediocre openings that don't exactly put their best feet forward, compromising either on the gameplay with really long expository or story centric scenes, or on the story with an uninspired early dungeon featuring really weak enemies. Why is that? Well, I posed the question to a few places, and came across what I think is a comprehensive answer: 1. I credit my friend for bringing this point up, but essentially RPGs find themselves needing to come up with good reasons for their characters to be adventuring the world instead of going on with their regular lives at home, like regular people. This imposes certain narrative limitations, as there's a very limited width of explanations that satisfactorily meet this need, and often RPG ...

Star Ocean 2, the original, was an action RPG released in 1999. Made by the ambitious and currently defunct developer company, tri-Ace, it featured a simple yet compelling formula: mix a real time action centric interpretation of the "standard" JRPG formula, as popularized by Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest, with roleplaying mechanics manifested as additional, non violent yet useful skills that could be invested into. Your characters could either choose to play through the game in a straightforward manner, or pick up cooking to make healing items mid dungeon, or call birds to supply them in dungeons, or even smith all sorts of amazing gear. Sadly, as is the case with several tri-Ace projects, the final game fell way short of its ambitions. The alternative skills required absurd amounts of investment to pay off. Most of their results weren't worth the effort. Oftentimes even with excessive investment, failures were very common. As such, it was mostly used just to gamble on...

Note: This article contains spoilers for Legend of Dragoon.  Most RPGs define their combat systems by the choice they offer. The difference between a fighter and wizard is not just their stats, but also what verbs they pick. In large part, combat depth is achieved by providing many relevant choices to the player. RPGs sometimes mix things up by limiting said choices. The idea, presumably, is that the player will be challenged out of their comfort zone by being forced into a smaller skillset. However, this also poses challenges for the designer, since it limits the valid space for both sides. Limiting the player also means limiting the opposition, since there are fewer situations the player can handle with their reduced skillset.  It is no surprise then, that many designers fail to make enjoyable challenges out of such restrictions. Often even in good RPGs, they end up being slogs where your party is gimped and either fights against ridiculously weak opposition, or is curbstomp...