Roleplayer

I just spent the weekend playing The Old Republic. My girlfriend (follow her) estimated the game took up 97.38% of my weekend. It was lots of fun and should (with proper motivation) be a whole blog to itself by the end of the weekend (but we all know how well I am at keeping up with those kinds of promises). However, with that beta ending, I found myself in something of a RPG lull. I could continue the game(s) of Mass Effect or Dragon Age I have going, but I'm in the mood for something new.

(Even more productive, I could get to writing all those ideas I keep telling people about.)

Fortunately, that aforementioned girlfriend of mine went out on a Black Friday mission to pick up some new games. (This is equal in awesome to my mission to pick up new graphic novels. Oddly, we both bought four.) One of those games was Skyrim.

Now in the past, I haven't been able to get into these Elder Scrolls games. A lot of people love these games. And that's great. They're just not for me. The games just feel too big, and with far too little direction. I play games for the narrative. Maybe that's odd, but it's sort of what I'm about (narrative, that is). So when I jump into a game, I want to know what I'm doing and why I'm doing it. I want to feel like what I'm doing matters. With these Elder Scrolls games, though, I've never felt that draw. (The same can be said for the GTA series and Fallout 3). There doesn't seem to be an urgency to what I'm doing. Sure, I could go and follow the main story path... but if I don't, no one cares. No one even notices.I can wander from village to village doing nothing at all and no one will ever bother to remind me there's a universe to save.

Or maybe they do at some point. I never make it that far. After six hours of aimlessly wandering and killing things and leveling up, I want something more. Except now I'm a million miles from that town I was supposed to go to but couldn't find. I've done a dozen side quests since then, none of which were linked to each other, and now I've entirely forgotten what the point of this game was at all. So I just quit playing.

Sort of like how I need a kick in the ass to write this blog, I also need a kick in the ass to remind me to save the universe. Games like these don't tend to give me that, so eventually, I stop giving a fuck.

But hey, everyone's up on Skyrim's balls, and that girlfriend (how many times you think I can mention her in one blog?) did purchase it... so no sweat off my back to give it a try. Here's what happened. Also, fair warning, some spoilers ahead. But just about how the game starts, so it's not that big of a deal.

OK. Let's give it a go. Fire this thing up and I'm in a wagon with a couple of criminals. The Stormcloaks, I think. Some group of Norse looking people rebelling against the Imperials. I'm  half sold on their cause from the get-go, because, well.... you know. So other than being mildly annoyed at the weird camera tilt, (even in first person view, it doesn't make sense), I just listen to these fellas talk about their rebellion and how we're all about to get axed. Fun times. We roll up to this village and two rebels and this one thief are all called out by name. Then they get to me and the Imperials don't have me listed. Cue character creation screen!

The short form version is that I created a lizard man, because, well...  you know. I put a lot of spines on his head to make him look more like a dinosaur (Also was not expecting the sheer amount of Rule 34 thrown at me from my Dinosaucers image search) and named him Connor because, well... you know.

So I finish creating a dinosaur man (so bad ass) and the Imperials argue a bit more about how I'm not on the list... and then decide to kill me anyway. Well fuck you very much. Right before I'm about to get chopped, a dragon appears (which is a good thing, because this was about to be the biggest waste of sixty bucks I never spent) and burns up the town and chaos ensues. I run off with one of those Stormchaser fellas, until we get split up somehow and then I run into an Imperial guard he isn't a complete douchewaffle. I follow him until we find this building or something and then the Stormshadow dude runs past us. Now, the game gives me the option to follow either one of them, but there's a fucking dragon setting this village on fire so I just follow the dude in front of me. He happens to be the Imperial.

Nice enough, dude. Actually, very helpful. We even end up crashing at his uncle's house. At some point when walking through the giant spider infested cave (because what cave ISN'T infested with giant spiders?) he suggests that I join up with the Imperial Legion. The same people that were going to chop my head off ten minutes ago because they were too lazy to do a background check. Well fuck that, partner.

Which brings us to the point. If there is one. The point is:  I'm bad at these sorts of games because I'm a role player. Even if I like Skyrim, even if I end up creating six different characters to play (my girlfriend will tell you  how much I love creating characters)... I will never ever take up the quest to join the Imperial Legion. Can't do it. Those assholes were going to chop my head off... and you expect me to join them?

See, this is where shit falls apart for me. It isn't a big deal, because I can just never do the quest and everything is just fine. But there's a part of me that wonders about the kind of people who do take that quest. Completionists and the like. I don't understand it.

I don't understand because I'm a role player. Sure, as a gamer, I'm curious about what that quest line might hold. What sorts of adventures lie in store for me. But as the character in the game... fuck the Imperials. Fuck them long. And fuck them hard. I don't think anyone should take beheadings lightly. Especially when it's my (be)head. And when I'm playing a game, I can never quite break free of that mindset. It is a role playing game, after all. So when I take control of this lizard man and march him through the fields of Skyrim, I do so with the constant memory that those Imperial fuckers were perfectly OK with killing me for no justifiable reason. (I don't even remember the in-game reason I was arrested with the Stormcrows in the first place).

Now I'm not going to go on a made, Imperial killing crusade. For one, that's not my style. For two, it would be dumb. They're an entire army. I'm one (incredibly bad ass looking) lizard man. For three, Harvard or whatever the fuck his name is helped prove that not all Imperials are bad. So, I'll just go on about my business, and they can go on about theirs.

I even went through the trouble of ditching the Imperial armor I'd found as soon as we hit his uncles place. Hell, I made my own armor just so I wouldn't be affiliated with any of these crazy, war mongering parties. And I did one quest for some dude and his sister and that's been about it.

So far, I like Skyrim. I've always been a fan of how skills level based on usage. That's about the only thing I liked from my experience with previous Elder Scrolls games. I like it here, too. It's a good system. The menu is a little odd to navigate, (also, sometimes it just doesn't want to be navigated), but whatever. I'm having fun. For the moment. I spent a couple hours exploring a cave. That was one quest that had nothing to do with me telling someone that dragons have returned (main quest, about to go do that now). I'm interested to see how long it takes for me to get lost in a dozen other caves and then forget that I was ever supposed to tell people about dragons at all. Then, I'll lose focus of what I'm doing (only so much spelunking I can do before it gets old)... and I'll quit.

Or maybe this time I'll keep on the main path and see what happens. But what will not happen is Connor taking a liking to Imperials.

I wonder if I'm the only person who feels this way. Am I the only person who will kill Loghain every time because he's a traitorous, murderous bastard who left my entire order to die? I don't care how powerful he is as a party member. I don't care if I'm playing a good character or bad. That dude turned on us. He left us all to die. Who would ever forgive that? Who just lets that slide and asks the dude to team up?

Sure, as a gamer, maybe I'm curious to see what happens. But I always feel like doing that is an injustice to the character I'm playing. To that little man or woman or elf or lizard who has been bleeding and dying and hacking and slashing through some incredibly nasty shit for my own entertainment. To help me save the world. It's odd, but I can't do it. Can you?

(Girlfriend Count:  4)

Breaking Point(s)

DC Universe Online went free-to-play a week or two ago. Now I'm not a huge DC fan, but I do love comic books and superheroes... so I figured it was time to give it a shot. I made it about ten minutes into the game before I hit what I'm beginning to refer to as a "breaking point."

It's pretty much what it sounds like. Some aspect of a game that just breaks it for me. It breaks the dynamic. The universe that has been created. I often find such things egregious to the point that I no longer want to play. Sometimes, I even find it personally insulting. There's just a... I don't know the right word. A laziness or a lack of faith in the player. Just... this idea that because it's a game, certain things don't matter. That I, as a player, should be willing to make certain concessions because it's a game. Or that I might not even notice. And maybe most people don't. But I do.

I find it a bit hard to explain as a concept. I had a very similar experience with Dead Island. I made it about ten or fifteen minutes in before I wanted to throw my controller at something. The things that were happening were just so... ridiculous. I'm going to dive into that more on the next blog. DCUO and Dead Island have such terrible breaking points they'll each get their own separate blog.

There are a couple of things I can go ahead and quickly spout out to try and help make the point. Those two games are hardly the only ones that have presented a problem for me. So let's go for a couple of easy ones to hopefully illustrate this problem I have. (I'm willing to admit that it is a problem for me alone. Though there are others that may agree, I'd dare say the vast majority of people either don't notice or don't care.)

About a month or so ago I borrowed Alice: Madness Returns from my roommate. Seemed like an interesting take on the Alice myth. The game was certainly fun. I actually liked it. There is, of course, a little bit of setup stuff to walk through before actually getting to Wonderland. But once you do, some of the enemies and breakable items yield teeth. Yes. Like actual teeth. The game's kind of fucked up that way. But whatever. I started collecting the teeth because it was obvious that's what I was supposed to do. I'm trained to do that sort of thing. Trained by twenty years of collecting coins that pop out of brick blocks.

After I had collected about fifty of these things, I stopped. Like just stopped playing for a moment. I stared at the screen and I asked myself why I was collecting teeth. It was obvious from the way the game was designed that I was supposed to. As a gamer, I understand that. And at first, I didn't even question it. But then I did.

There was no context for the teeth within the game. There was no obvious reason why creatures that probably didn't have teeth would be leaving them behind when they died. Or why teeth were being stored in breakable containers. There was no reason for it at all, (even within the context of a game that takes place in Wonderland and has questionable reason to begin with). There was no explanation from the game as to what the teeth were used for. I just knew, as a player, that I was supposed to collect them. As Alice, however, I have no idea.

And that is the problem. That is the "breaking point." This was a minor issue, and one I was able to get over. But it was a bit annoying. It was a moment that took me out of the game. Or, perhaps, brought me more into it. This was a moment that made it very clear to me that I was playing a video game. It broke the reality created by the game to point out that it was, in fact, a game. Not an interactive narrative that I could push forward and enjoy. Not a complete universe within itself, created without interruption.

See, my problem is that the inherent logic I expect to exist does not. Within the frame of the universe that was created, there was no reason for collecting teeth. Especially off of the recently slain bodies of my foes. Might as well have been slicing ears off Viet Cong.

Now, after I had collected the correct number of teeth, there was finally an explanation. Of sorts. The teeth were used to upgrade my weapons (what else would I use them for?). This, of course, sparks another set of frustrations. This consistent idea that some sort of payment must be made in order to earn upgrades, etc. It makes sense in some games. It doesn't in others. But whether it works within the framework or not, it is almost always present.

This is, ultimately, the problem I have. I look at games and I feel like we should have progressed farther than what we have. I love video games. At this point, I've more or less set myself up for a "career" in the industry. Which is why I take this so seriously. Or personally. Or whatever. Because I truly believe we should have evolved beyond this. Because I want something I love to be the absolute best (I think) it can be.

The trailer for Battlefield 3 boasts that the graphics are so realistic, one might not be able to tell the difference. I have not played this game (generally speaking, I'm not much into war shooters), but all I've heard about it seems to support this claim. Visually, it is stunning. An amazing example of what we have been able to accomplish graphically. This is how far we've come from the days of Pong or Super Mario.

The visuals may have changed dramatically... but it doesn't seem much else has. Mentally, our concept of gaming is the same. The way we design and think about our games is still the same. I'm still doing the equivalent of collecting coins from a brick block. Isn't it about time we evolved?