If someone every told me that they play Torchlight for the authored narrative I would probably end the conversation. However I will immediately follow up that statement by saying that narrative is what has kept me going back to the game over and over again. This narrative I speak of does not involve chasing down Alric or the fate of the town of Torchlight, it is about the adventurer alchemist known as Ytill. If Runic Games diverted resources away from building a compelling narrative for their dungeon crawler it most definitely went towards the loot system and as a result it creates a means by which I as the player can create a story for Ytill much in the way I create my own story, through the items that he obtains, uses and keeps.

The story of Ytill for ten levels was linked to the weapon pictured above, an unassuming sword that outclassed any other I would find for hours to come. My growth as a character was linked to this item as my slightly melee focused Alchemist became a hand to hand combat machine because of this sword. This item, real in the gameworld, held not only the gaming moments of victory over hordes of “evilplacespawn” but also the ways that Ytill grew and changed and how I internalised the rules and systems of Torchlight. In the same way that Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is not just a simple book, this sword was not just an awesome weapon. Many a time I would find new weapons, half hoping to find something better but secretly wishing for the opposite. So much of my narrative thus far was contained in this sword and thus when I found the Dismantling Sparkling Staff of the Bear with it’s higher damage per second, it was a moment of sadness. It was time to move on.

Much in the way my room tells a story of who I am, the items that Ytill uses and wears define my narrative in Torchlight. They are touchstones, memory markers and a means by which we as players can construct narratives through games like Torchlight, Borderlands and obviously Diablo. It is an active process different from other cultural forms. But this is not the end of the story of the sword, it now sits in the ingenious communal storage chest in the town of Torchlight, accessible to any character I chose to create. It waits for the time when Shaggy the level 2 Destroyer is ready, the time when I can once again be reminded of what my narrative in Torchlight, and what the future might hold.

The iPhone game space has been something of a revelation for me in 2009. It represents a healthy sized market for developers and a new economic model to be solved. The relatively lower risks also means that it is a great space to fearlessly explore new and interesting gameplay concepts and unlike games on other platforms there seems to be no collective consciousness surrounding it. There are no iPhone ‘classics’ to tell me what to expect.

When I load up a disc on my Xbox 360 I will know very quickly if a game meets the standards I hold for my home console experience. When I load a new App to play on my iPhone I do not know what to expect. This completely changes how I judge the games I play. I have enjoyed Spider because it was a perfect harmony of controls, visuals and storytelling quite literally in the palm of my hand. I have enjoyed Canabalt, Drop 7 and geoSpark for the simple mechanics that are infinitely replayable and supportive of a habit of listening to videogame podcasts. I have enjoyed re-releases like Passage, Beneath a Steel Sky and Dragon’s Lair because they show that good games are evergreen.

When I first purchased my Xbox 360 all I expected was games at a level above my Playstation 2 experience, an incremental improvement. In the iPhone’s case all I knew was I would be gaming much more. I could not compare the experience to anything else previous because almost everything about it feels so completely new. It is by no means the only portable gaming platform but it is the first in a long time that does not have the burden of expectation. I am not saying that it is the new holy grail of videogames either but I am glad that this new space has opened up. I am now more than ever, a gamer everywhere and I love the idea that my next treasured gaming memory might only be one less cup of coffee away.

Seasons greetings

All the items I gain in the game are linked back to this villa, on display to remind me of their existence whenever I return. My ever growing art collection is punctuated by largely empty rooms, set aside for weapons and armor. This reminds me of how I have chosen to progress in the game. The game has three collectibles items, feathers, codex pages and seals of your ancestor Assassin’s. It is not enough to simply retrieve them, they must be returned to the villa in order to contribute to that magical counter. I am reminded of the narrative justification for collecting feathers by the perpetually catatonic form of Ezio’s mother as  I deposit them in her room. I am reminded of the importance of finding all the Codex pages, a feeling reinforced when I place them amongst those already gained and as the Assassin’s seals unlock the gate to the ultimate final reward I feel motivated to explore just one more tomb.

The Villa at Monteriggioni at it’s most simple is a virtual trophy room, one which continually reinforces a holistic recollection of my gaming experience. When I equip my Condottiero War Hammer and Iron chestguard I cannot help but remember the common sword and leather armor that served me well during my early days in Florence. My anticipation of gameplay to come is increased by the memory of gameplay now past. Beyond a trophy room it is a benign region of Ezio’s world that provides for moments of practice and experimentation. With each new building upgraded, I gain access to the treasure chests that taunt me through their presence on my map. I practice many a jumping puzzle before needing those skills for the real challenges that I face in the greater world. I refine my combat reflexes without consequence or fear. The need to return to the Villa  to collect income means that whilst you might not need the safety net that it offers you are most definitely aware of it.

The open world genre can simultaneously intimidate and excite by the wealth of options for play that they offer. The inclusion of an area like the Monteriggioni Villa takes away much of the anxiety of being let loose in such a world that does not force you to participate in the authored narrative. It provides a virtual home, a safe place to exist in the world as well as an anchor for your memories of the game. This is a vital element that is missing in many open world games that often provide rich emergent experience but provide no means to hold onto them, leaving them to fade away with the next cool brush fire, assassination or car crash. When my time with Ezio is finished the Monteriggioni Villa and town are restored and alive with colour and movement. My trophy room has expanded out and every step through this place is a reminder of the things I have done and the fun I have had along the way.

I have a game recommendation for you dear reader. I know it might be hard to drag yourself away from your game of Left 4 Call of Assassin’s Age: Origins 2, trust me I am thankful that you even have the time to read these first couple of sentences. If you will indulge me further then take this piece of advice: give Devil’s Tuning Fork, the 30 minute play through it deserves. This free independent PC title reminds me of my experience with Mirror’s Edge because of two key similarities.

1. Devil’s Tuning Fork is a first person game that does not need weapons to achieve it’s aim. It leverages the potential for engagement that a first person perspective holds without the explosions.
2. The visual style of the game is intimately tied to the player’s engagement with the world.

In Devil’s Tuning Fork you are a child who is exploring his/her own coma state which you fall into at the outset. You must explore this space using a Tuning Fork to send out sound waves which move across all surfaces illuminating their moving textures briefly. It is a simple mechanic that creates some amazing visual set pieces all as a result of the your own actions. The sound waves have a functional purpose in lighting the path you must walk, highlighting false floors that cause you to fall and activating chimes that engage moving platforms allowing progress. Each soundwave reveals a dynamic moving world as if you are trying to kickstart your brain, to shake off the darkness of the coma. The moving walls when briefly illuminated are sometimes disorienting, giving a false sense of movement, the jarring moments as you try to force your way out of this mental prison.

The story elements are thin on the ground which combined with the visual effects provide a nice frame to fill in the gaps and make of this world what you wish. The crescendo of effects in a game such as Left 4 Call of Assassin’s Age: Origins 2 might result in  a complex and visceral experience begging to be analyzed and thought about but I feel, dear reader, that a simple game with simple ideas can be a memorable one as well. Devil’s Tuning Fork is one such game, and it is not something I feel I will forget soon.

Take the time to explore Devil’s Tuning Fork, I am sure that there will always be time for Left 4 Call of Assassin’s Age: Origins 2.

The balloons seem like a good way to draw attention to the nodes during daytime with lighting effects serving a similar function in darker conditions. If anyone has any thoughts or suggestions please feel free to contact me via email or in the comments section.

I am still very enthusiastic about this project and hope to be given the opportunity to work harder on it very soon. If you are interested in making a commentary track for the game all the information can be found on the Wasteland Commentaries page of this site.

The result: as the first shot rang out from my ‘teammates’ I paused the game. I got up and walked around the house for a bit. I sat down and started playing for a bit longer. I fired some bullets to shatter a glass roof, to ‘pretend’ I was involved in the mission. I could not be the type of warrior I had pretended to be in levels just passed. I had to take it. The feeling in my stomach was reminiscent of the time I read through Brett Easton Ellis’ American Psycho. I would finish chapters, stop and decide to stop reading, not because I did not have the opportunity to, but because I simply did not feel like it. That this game could affect me so meant that it was worth personal reflection.

As a linear narrative based shooter Modern Warfare 2 is akin to a blockbuster film in so many ways. But where it differs provides a powerful example of what makes games such an important medium for me. It challenges my expectations through it’s unique property, interactivity. Expectations are tested in cinema through narrative devices. This game does so with a challenge to my ability to take action and have a feeling of agency set up in the opening levels of the game. Modern Warfare 2 through “the level” is saying to me

“You must uncover this experience differently because it is different, accounting for the violence of the world in the game is not just about being a walking empowered gun”

Maybe I will be a action hero in this game when I laugh out loud at the spectacle of the final snow buggy jump, but I am not an action hero when playing that level.

Anyone well versed in this particular film subgenre would be aware that it is not the zombies that are the greatest horror. Zombies may produce the most ’shocking’ moments, but it is the degenerative humanity in the survivors that is most horrific. Sure, there are moments of cooperation but invariably it is the selfishness or inhumanity of a survivor that leads to the groups eventual downfall. I cannot recall any game in recent years that has successfully replicated this. The Survivors in all these games are players or npc’s that are alligned with the you from the start, they never betray you to save their own skin.

As gamers we are not exposed to what makes Zombie films so interesting. The Boss Battles in Dead Rising show that people can abandon humanity in the event of a zombie apocalypse but it doesn’t go far enough. The ‘bosses’ are always antagonistic, there is never a suggestion that they might work with the player. Left 4 Dead is designed carefully to reward cooperation and survival, it wants the players to win and to feel like a team. If you have seen George A. Romero’s “…of the Dead” films then you might be aware that Cooperation and Survival are themes presented alongside Selfishness and Heartlessness. I would love to see betrayal as a realistic option for particular moments in Left 4 Dead games but that is not the direction Valve is going.

These titles can be great action games, but they represent a missed opportunity. Zombies have become the World War II of gaming because they are the thematic filter that allows for the action genre to advance in mechanics and design.  All I can do is hope that game designers  recognize the full range of experiences possible in the material they are using.

Amanita Design have a great passion for telling stories through this gameplay format but they also know that many gamers today have never had much experience with this genre. Beyond all the visual splendor of the world of Machinarium I love that such a simple element like the cheat book minigame demonstrates an awareness of the game’s place in it’s own culture.  Through the cheat book there is a point of entry for  gamers like myself and it speaks these words directly to me, “You are not ready to properly beat this game yet, so here is a way to progress using an approach you are more familiar with”. I am a player who won’t be able to complete Machinarium through my skill alone, but I will be able to experience the rich world and interesting story nonetheless. Machinarium is a positive and challenging experience for any twitch gamer who wants to expand their horizons. It is a great entry point for anyone who wished to learn that point-and-click does not always mean aim-and-fire.

The screen goes black, a stray bullet had struck me in the head. I am dead

The moment to moment action in the new Operation Flashpoint game, Dragon Rising is what makes this game an amazing experience. There is an ever present possibility of death, independent of choices made and you never feel the hand of the developer in these events. They have set up the base conditions and your presence is what causes the scenario to play out. Dragon Rising provides the intial (and expected) escapism and empowerment on a videogame letting you play soldier. Your actions are shown to be integral to each victory, you are the active force in this world. But you also inherit the realistic chance that as a soldier, your death is only one bullet away. Operation Flashpoint avoids many other gaming traditions aimed at reminding you of your empowered existence. There is no swell of orchestral music when you order a charge and no canned character dialogue for when a team member dies. The game succeeds because it does not try to elicit emotion or reaction from me in any way except through gameplay and given the large open nature of every mission, and unscripted AI, this comes at unexpected times. I do not need a large explosion or vista to reward me for being successful, overcoming the challenge of the game is it’s own reward. When a mission is complete there is no cutscene to form my character’s story, there is only the things I have just done, the moments that have just passed. The screen simply fades to black until I next take up the role of the soldier and define my experience by actions. The game does not try to force feed the empowerment fantasy to the player, anytime you act in a way that results in feelings of agency they feel earned and are much more effective.