I s'pose it's about time I did this. I've played Cave Story a long while ago, but it still holds a place in my heart. I've never really given it much thought at the time, but I know that the game had a huge impact on me today. For instance, I've developed a fondness for pixel art and Metroidvania-style games. I even hope to make my own one day.

            But I digress. Cave Story is a pixelated Metroidvania-style game (bet you didn't see that coming) made by Studio Pixel. Before we go any further, let's touch on the subject of Metroidvania. Half of you may be wondering what kind of genre this is, and I don't blame you. If you've played Metroid and/or Castlevania (which are the ones that inspired the genre, in case you couldn't figure it out before), you may have a good idea what it's like. It's basically a platforming game where you can explore and backtrack as you wish, unlike Mario and Sonic and their invisible wall that follows you forward but never budges backwards. Action-packed stabby-stabby shooty-shooty fun is most of the time involved too, not to mention RPG elements sprinkled here and there to spice things up.

            The game starts you off in a cave as a... well, telling you might spoil the story, so let's refer to yourself as "you". You make your way through the small network of caves, obtaining your first weapon, and finally escaping into a town where rabbit-people called Mimigas live. You find out that the Mimigas in the village (or what's left of them) are being kidnapped by an evil doctor for his own nefarious purposes. As you progress through the game, you'll find out more about the place you're in, as well as who you really are. I'll try not to spoil anything for you, but I can't promise anything.

            The first thing I noticed was its RPG elements. You had an inventory to store items you found, and there were NPCs to talk to to progress further into the game. The really interesting part was the system of which you level up. Killing hostile monsters made them drop bouncing yellow triangles, which were essentially experience points when picked up. However, the experience doesn't level up your character, but rather your weapon. A weapon can reach the maximum of 3 levels, which isn't too hard to achieve. The kicker was that when you took damage, the weapon you had equipped will LOSE experience, which gave you some incentive to keep killing monsters instead of just rushing past them.

            I got really comfortable with the smooth, flowing gameplay quite quickly, enjoying the combination of shooting and platforming. I traversed through many different environments; from the technologically advanced Egg Corridor to the lush greenery of Grasstown. I was easily drawn into the story, about how the Doctor was apperently king of the island, and he was experimenting on the Mimigas to....

            Ahem. Sorry. Spoilers. Anyway, I didn't notice it at the time, but there were some aspects of the story that made it so interesting. To be more specific, it was the LACK of things in the story. I s'pose giving you examples may count as spoilers, but I'll try to find one that doesn't give too much away. For instance, there are these guys in green that stand about in certain places, called Cthulhu. They give you advice every now and then, but they really have no impact on the story whatsoever. Another thing that can be only described as angry milk follows you on the lowest level of the Egg Corridor, and no explanation is given as to what it is, why it's there or why it wants to instakill you.

            Even despite these huge holes in the plot, my willing suspension of disbelief held. It held so well, I never thought back on how goofy everything must have been months after I stopped playing it. It was only after I had nothing better to do than to reflect about my past and how I was wasting my life did I finally see the huge amounts of things left unexplained. Even then, I didn't see much of an issue with it. The game didn't feel like it needed to give any explanations, and honestly, I felt like I needed none. Somehow, I LIKED the fact that they didn't try to explain everything. It gave the game an exotic feel, one where I would wonder what they really were and make up my own theories.

            I know it may sound a little dumb, but it's just difficult to put in words. Another example I can come up with is Megaman Legends and the Reaverbots. Reaverbots can be found patrolling ruins found throughout the game, and they're basically there to hinder your progress. Your partner at one point ponders where these bots came from, who made them, and what purpose they served. I liked the enigmatic feel they gave, as well as the whole storyline in general. It makes you feel like there's something out there worth discovering, like the game had something unique and special in store. When I played Megaman Legends 2, and the Reaverbots were finally explained, I felt a little... disappointed. Sure, I know what they're about now, but they'll miss their mysterious aura they used to have.

            As a game designer, I strive to try and give everything an explanation. Justifying things like health points and how you are able to hold everything and the kitchen sink on your back gives me a satisfying tingly sensation. This game (and quite a few others) proved that not everything needs a detailed explanation to make a good experience. Some games try their best to make sense, follow logic and clarify details, but what if the smarter players find a flaw in your reasoning? Sometimes the best way to suspend disbelief is not to increase the amount of facts holding it up, but to allow the player to suspend it him/herself.

            What got me most about Cave Story was its simplicity. Easy-to-pick-up game mechanics, minimal but effective graphics and sound, as well as an engaging storyline. And this game was done in 5 years by ONE MAN. Daisuke Amaya, also known as Pixel or Studio Pixel. He's living proof that it IS possible to make a game all by yourself and still be successful. Of course, I don't plan on doing that when I graduate, but one can dream, no? Go play it, and savour this man's sweat, blood and tears. You won't regret it.

 So. Bought Minecraft. Had a BLAST. Neglected the blog. Oh, wait, I don't think anybody follows it, anyway...

            Sorry, I'll get the point. From the very beginning, even before I bought the game, I was fascinated by the idea of a roleplaying server. The concept of playing with a lot of other people where our imaginations are the limit sounded like something I could sink my teeth into and leave there for a long time. I knew that the first thing I'd do when I activated my account was to satisfy my cravings.

            I've had some roleplaying experience in the past, but I never realized it. I'd host imaginary games for my friends, not unlike a Game Master, and that had helped a lot in my pursuit to be a game designer. Playing as a... player... was something I haven't tried, so I took some time to do my research. Needless to say, I learnt a few things that I'd never had known if I played in other servers, or in other games, for that matter.

            The first thing the GMs made sure I knew was the definition of roleplaying. Now, I've played RPGs before, otherwise known as Roleplaying Games, but those, as they said, were the less-aptly named kind of roleplaying. Their version of roleplaying meant taking control of your character and decide his every action, reaction, and sometimes, outcome. The kinds that I were used to sees roleplaying as playing preset characters where you can tweak their stats and gear. Roleplaying to an extent, yes, but not good enough.

            The second most important thing I had to learn was metagaming. That, I was totally unfamiliar with, until I checked the wiki. Metagaming is basically using information OOC (out-of-character) to be applied IC (no points for guessing what IC means). This explanation is a tad confusing, so I'll provide an example: Say you're in a town, minding your own business, and your house that's 2 cities over is set on fire by your nemesis. You are NOT allowed to suddenly rush home to deal with the matter unless your character knows about it in a legitimate way. Even if your nemesis lets you know OOC, your character can't possibly know what's happening at that distance, unless informed IC by someone else or something similar. The rule is simple. Keep what you know OOC outside IC. 

            The last thing I had to stuff into my brain was powergaming, and/or poweremoting. They're both different in their own right, but for this server, they focused on poweremoting. I am not that server, and will cover both. Powergaming is where you develop your character into the perfect being, so to speak. Maximizing strengths, minimizing weaknesses. Grinding experience, money, or something equivalent for the sake of making your character super-powerful/super-rich/a deity. This is frowned upon, just like cheating is in sports. It's not very sporting of you, and honestly, it takes out the fun of roleplaying. Flaws make an interesting character, and having Mary Sue's/Gary Stu's all over the place isn't interesting at all.

            Poweremoting leans more to the aspect of your actions. In most cases in any hardcore roleplaying scenario, the video game/board game/piece of paper wouldn't be enough to convey what's going on, so you "emote". For instance, you can't do a backflip in Minecraft, simply because the game isn't programmed that way, but you are still able to pull it off by saying something like "JOCX does a backflip". This is useful to pass on IC information, and do actions that are reasonable in real life but impossible within the program's restrictions. Poweremoting happens when someone abuses it to do almost impossible feats, or does them in such a manner that it gives him an unfair advantage. "JOCX shoots fire from his hands, killing everyone, then quickly escaping before any survivors can even see him." is an example of powergaming. The others have no say in what happens, and are not given a chance to retaliate. Nobody's gonna have fun this way.

            After finally understanding the core mechanics of roleplaying, I registered my character up along with his backstory. I couldn't just create someone willy-nilly, of course, and had to study the server's lore to make sure my character wasn't out of place. Immersion is very important in these kind of situations, and nothing ruins it more than something that doesn't make sense. Aliens in a medieval castle? Someone who sruvived World War 1, but still looks like he's 19 in the year 2020? These little details are important, so as not to throw everybody else off. Other things, like no doing evil deeds without a villain application and magic applications, weren't as important to my character, but I took note of them anyway, filling the form the best I could. Soon after my application was accepted, my adventure began. And what an adventure it was.

            I came into the world as a man who was mourning the loss of his sister, and I started planning out what he would become later in his life. As I explored the place, gathering information, experience, and my bearings (my character gets lost a lot, somehow), I inevitably started to get acquainted with the other locals (players). It was not long after before my character's life was intertwined with theirs, as he attempted to interact with them in accordance to his personality. He made many friends, and almost as many enemies. New things happened every day, with no two experience alike. One day he would be babysitting a little girl, learning how to change a diaper, and the next he would be beaten up savagely by orcs. It was... beautiful. Yes, even getting beaten up by orcs. Even though my character suffered quite a lot, I was thoroughly enjoying myself, savouring the friendships and conflicts, like I was watching a sitcom.

            As I played, I realized that this server was hardly about me. I had grand plans for my character, but his experiences and the people around him were ultimately shaping who he was going to be. My actions, too, changed the lives of those around me. It was about us, as a community, as we shaped the world around us, each choice affecting one another in unthinkable ways. I felt a strong bond with my character, but I knew I had to be professional and not take anything personally. The whole thing was akin to a second life, similar to reality in more ways than one. It was definitely unpredictable, always interesting, and everything you did was capable of changing so much. I sometimes leaned back from the screen, wondering if I'll ever stop to do  real-world things ever again.

            Well, what am I doing here, then, updating this blog? The server is currently under a DDOS attack, and I felt like I had to do SOMETHING productive after so many days goofing off. I'm pretty torn apart; sad because I can't enjoy my character's social life anymore, and happy that I'm finally free.This is definitely something I'll stick to for a long time yet, I can feel it, but I'll have to learn some self-control every now and then. Roleplaying is NOT easy to get into, taking a lot of dedication, but it provides endless, quality entertainment once you've accustomed yourself to it. This server alone was worth every cent I used to buy Minecraft. With this review over, excuse me while I try to catch up on a week's worth of neglected sleep.

Being raised in a thrifty household, I've learnt not to ask for games. Even if I had the money, I'd shy away at the prospect of owning a game, playing it, then tossing it aside once it's done. My short attention span doesn't help me at all, and it'll be a wonder if I can still keep this blog up and running with all the meaningless distractions I have around me.

         But I digress. We're here to discuss Minecraft, not my life. I'd sampled the game in its alpha stage years back, and, though it was fun, it was very limited. Some servers spiced up the normal building and destroying by adding mods to make the game feel more like, well, a game. After building lots of random structures and faffing about, I left it behind, thinking on how limited the game was. Little did I know I was playing the alpha version, and it was only after a year or two that I learnt that the full version was much, MUCH more interesting.

         My friend, who purchased the game, let me have a go with his account. When I created my own world, I was greeted with a lush, thriving landscape, complete with trees and animals. Being accustomed to the inferior version, I was pleasantly surprised, and borderline shocked. Crafting? Hunger? Health? A whole new world appeared before me, and kept expanding as I explored. I wandered around long enough for me to realize that the skies had gone darker. Not long after, I met face to face with the infamous mascot of Minecraft, and got my body parts splattered across the landscape.

          I'm a pretty resourceful guy, and Minecraft's chock-full of resources, but I honestly didn't know what to do. I swam to a nearby island and proceeded to build a house out of dirt for shelter. It was around then that my friend told me to look up a guide on the Minecraft wiki. Although I picked up the basics pretty quickly, I was slightly disappointed to see that there was no in-game tutorial. I pushed that aside and begun my survival.

          3 houses into the game, I stopped to admired my handiwork. It was around then that I asked myself, "What am I supposed to do, exactly?" The answer was pretty clear: anything I wanted. That gave me mixed feelings. I liked the idea of freedom, but I felt a little lost and unguided. A little TOO much freedom, if you know what I mean. However, as I pressed on, I found out that the game was leading you without actually pushing you. I started to learn about villages, abandoned mineshafts, and the Nether, among other things. Discovering them weren't necessary, and the game didn't pull on your arm or punish you for not looking out for them. The game just pointed out their existence and said with a shrug, "You can do that, but whenever you feel like it. No rush." Of course, I ended up doing everything anyway, the sneaky bastards.

           Minecraft is a pretty beautiful game for something with such abysmal graphics. I lost count on how many times I've stopped to admire a piece of landscape, debating whether to build another house there for the heck of it. Besides making pretty structures, you can make functional structures with the help of redstone. Oh, redstone. Complex stuff, to make complex things. They are basically wires, which allow redstone currents to flow through. They can be used for a ton of things; from simple door-opening mechanisms to actual working electrical appliances. Like over-sized calculators. If you ever wanted one.

            I didn't fancy a giant calculator, and was content with exploring and surviving the harsh, mysterious and angular environment. After some time, though (by some I mean a lot), I started to feel empty. I wasn't achieving much, and decided to spice up my experience. The Minecraft modding community is very active, and my friend helped me look through the best mods. Although there were a lot of high-quality ones, I realized that all I was after was a multiplayer experience. This time, we scoured the net for multiplayer servers.

            Well, I got a different experience, all right. Barely 2 minutes into the server, I left the safe zone and was promptly slaughtered by another player wearing a full diamond set. I learnt the hard way that it's a dog-eat-dog world in most multiplayer servers, and soon adopted the "run-far-far-away-and-set-up-a-base-where-no-one-will-find-me" tactic. There were times, though, even whole servers, where I'd meet very nice people. We'd help each other build things, give each other food and armor, maybe defend our houses from monster attacks.

            Minecraft turned out to be more than a game. It became an experience. One that kept changing as I delved deeper into its vast universe. Something new was always just around the corner, just waiting for me to get bored with the current distraction. I felt so free, unrestricted, and sometimes at little lost. Still, no matter what games come out, I would always go back to Minecraft and its immense replayability value and plain old fun.

After finishing Pokemon White, I found that my Pokemon itch hadn't been properly scratched. After running around doing daily quests for a while, I decided to go look for something a lot of Pokemon fans are still searching for: a Pokemon MMO. This hasn't been the first time I've tried looking for one, but it is the first time I've sat down and thought about how a Pokemon MMO would turn out.

       I've always believed that a Pokemon MMO was the natural step for Nintendo/Game Freak to move in. The franchise already had a huge community, and the game encouraged getting friends and playing together. There are already 5 different islands to visit, each having their own Pokemon generation list and gyms to battle. Imagine wondering these lands, trying to catch 'em all, side by side with your friends! Surely this is a recipe for success and instant money from drooling fanboys!

       After letting my inner child have his fun for a while, I came back down to earth and decided to do a little thinking. There has to be a reason why Nintendo or Game Freak never tried something like this out. Well, their current formula is working, so they really have no reason to risk something like that, but there has to be a better explanation for that. To understand what it was, I juxtaposed my previous experience with the Pokemon franchise and my days spent playing MMOs. I also managed to find some fan-made Pokemon MMOs and games, and gave those a shot too.

       The first program I found was an online battle simulator. You could pick which Pokemon you wanted, which moves it could learn, and pretty much everything else. This wasn't the first time I've used this program before, though, and I knew what was waiting for me. My first time using it years ago opened my eyes to competitive Pokemon battling. My God, they decimated my team without breaking a sweat! If you play Pokemon by giving your critters all offensive attacks, and your primary strategy is to hit the enemy with your strongest move, you will be eaten alive out here. I spent weeks looking up strategies and memorizing the layers of meta-games that takes place in every match. I've definitely learnt a lot, but I still lose very, very often.

       Although it was exciting to play and fight against other Pokemon fans, it lacked the personal touch of raising your Pokemon. You just picked one from the Pokedex and scaled its level to the max. There was no training, no bonding involved. No adventure to go on, just sitting in a lobby, waiting for someone to accept your challenge. I guess I know how those random trainers at the side of the road feel. After losing about 10 battles in a row, I turned to a less competitive and more adventurous web browser MMO. This time, you just chose a map you wanted to be in and wandered around until a Pokemon popped up. You could then choose to try and catch it, or ignore it and continue searching.

       This felt a lot closer to what I wanted, so I spent some time catching and raising the Pokemon I wanted. After I had a full team, I found out that you could battle against NPC characters, which was much faster than grinding in the grass. What's more, you could battle them again and again if you so desired. In a few hours time, I had a full team of level 100's, so I decided to look back at what I discovered.

       For one, the moves in the game weren't accurate. ALL of them were damaging moves, and most didn't have any of their proper secondary effects in the original games. Stats were also thrown out the window, so all the Pokemon were pretty much identical in terms of strength. The knowledge I had learnt from battling pros were wasted, but I decided to let the problem slide. But it was this particular game that opened my eyes to what would potentially happen if there really WAS a legitimate Pokemon MMO.

       While building my perfect team, I learnt that the Pokedex showed the locations where you could catch the Pokemon you were searching for. Not only that, they told you how many Pokemon were caught in total by players, and revealed that each Pokemon had special variations too. You had the normal Pokemon, then Shiny, Dark, Metallic, etc. I guess that was a cheap was to increase the content, but that didn't concern me as much as the numbers did. Tens of thousands of Pokemon were caught on average per species, and that didn't include the alternate types. When I caught a Shiny Bulbasaur, I decided to put it up for a trade, hoping to get a cooler Pokemon in exchange. To my horror, typing in "Shiny Bulbasaur" under the trade section showed me about 300 pages worth of trades.

       The other thing that I noticed were the gym battles. To catch legendary Pokemon, you had to defeat the Elite 4 of a region, allowing you to catch the legendaries of that Generation. After wiping out the first generation, though, I realized that the rest would be a piece of cake. Gen II's first gym were all level 10, and mine were much stronger, since I've already beaten one generation of the esteemed Elite 4. Soon, collecting all of the badges became more of a chore than anything.

       From what I learnt, I began to imagine how a game like Pokemon would turn out. Firstly, there wouldn't be much of a point of different regions, other than to catch more Pokemon. if you've defeated the first Elite 4 team, you'll beat pretty much everything else. Getting the rest of the badges would just be ceremonial. Maybe they'll have some sort of system to limit whether you can bring over Pokemon to other regions, but a lot of people aren't gonna like it. 

       Let's say they figure out a way around it. Fine. What about legendaries? Is there only going to be one for everyone to fight over? Or will they be accessible to everyone, risking over-saturation? Speaking of which, what about every other Pokemon out there? What's stopping people from using bots and macros to catch and trade rare Pokemon? By far the worst thing about this is the lack of a good multiplayer system. What do I mean? Well, imagine logging on and meeting up with your friends. What are your options? You could trade or battle alongside/against each other. That's about it. There's no point in both of you running around in tall grass together, fighting your own individual battles. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?

       The tried-and-true formula of the Pokemon series keeps a balance between single- and multiplayer. You play the game alone, like any other RPG, living your life as a 10-year-old Pokemon prodigy. You enjoy the adventure as the hero/heroine, bonding with your pets of mass destruction, and taking in the atmosphere of the game. Every now and then, you get a peek of the world outside your island, and meet different people to battle and trade with. Everything you go through doesn't come easy, and you begin to cherish the moments you have both in and out of the multiplayer session. This doesn't have much of an impact in a basic MMO format. As strong as you are, you'll be grinding just to get to the levels of other players, and progress feels like a drag when you're comparing yourself to hardcore players rather than lazy NPC characters.

        All the factors that made the Pokemon games a hit will be difficult to bring over onto a massively multiplayer platform. Pokemon is a singleplayer game with optional multiplayer content. It would take a lot of innovation and revision to make it fit into the MMO niche without losing its magical, personal touch. Maybe, one day in the future, Game Freak will be able to pull something off, but for now, all we can do is sit and wait for the next 200 new Pokemon to suddenly be discovered on another island. 

   Ah, Pokemon. One of the most popular franchises for little boys and girls, and occasionally, not-so-little boys and girls. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm one of the older fans. Pokemon has kept me happy for many years, with its repetitive yet somewhat addictive gameplay of "catching 'em all". Even now, with access to triple-A titles, I sometimes boot up my emulator and relive good memories.

    Now personally, I'm not a huge fan of turned-based RPGs. In fact, I'm not a fan of turned-based anything. I can see the appeal in it, and I understand the level of strategy involved, but the idea of taking turns and allowing your opponent to smack you over the head after you've smacked theirs didn't sound appealing. Pokemon is one of the few exceptions to the rule, which also happens to be the first game to open my eyes to the turned-based genre.

    Lately, I've been playing Pokemon White, mainly to see what the fuss was all about. My days over the internet led me to discover that a portion of the Pokemon fanbase had split into 2 factions: Newgenners and Genwunners. The Genwunners are the fans who loved the earlier generations of Pokemon, and feel that the new generations are unimaginative, unoriginal, or just plain bad. Newgenners either defended the new versions of Pokemon, or felt that the old versions were terrible compared to the current ones.

    I knew they were arguing about how the new Pokemon looked like, not the actual game. It's sad that somewhere out there, a number of people aren't going to play the game because the new Pokemon look lame. I was sensible enough to put my opinions aside (My fave is the 3rd generation, right smack in the middle) and give the game an honest shot.

    I'm going to assume that you've played any one of the versions, or at least know how the game goes. I've only played Yellow and Emerald before this, so I'll be comparing those to the White version. The first thing I noticed was that I had 2 rivals this time around. Well, one of them was laughably weak, so I guess I had one real threat. The random encounters were also spiced up a bit with "dark grass" that held slightly higher level Pokemon and had a chance to get a double battle. Nothing ground-breaking, but there's nothing to complain about.

    At the second town, I'm introduced to this version's enemy superpower: Team Plasma. Yellow had Team Rocket, and Emerald had 2, Team Magma and Aqua. Normally, these so-called organizations were a joke to watch. They usually had their eyes set on a particular legendary Pokemon that could bring them ultimate power, but the way they organize themselves are laughable. I mean, all that power at your disposal and you send men with common Pokemon like Zubats and Poochyenas? Team Plasma actually felt much more powerful compared to the other "teams". Well, they still used trash Pokemon, but that wasn't the point.

    When they are first seen, they move like soldiers, orderly and precise. It may seem like a small thing, but watching them get into formation around the main villain screams "professional". Also, Game Freak goes about making them look much meaner than the other organizations. They go about taking other people's Pokemon by force, and are also shown abusing wild Pokemon (due to graphical limitations, the impact isn't that great). Every time you beat one of them to submission, it actually feels like a small victory rather than getting rid of a nuisance. Well, compared to the other titles, at least.

    The gym leaders now feel a lot more lively, too. They no longer stand around on their pedestal, awaiting your challenge. No, they actually come out of their wacky excuses for gyms and help you out on a few occasions. In fact, most of the towns you visit feel much more... realistic. Walk along a bridge, and you can see cars zoom by. Visit a cargo loading bay and an airstrip, and have your questions about distributing resources answered. Everything is much more believable, and it makes for a more engaging game compared to the previous versions.

     One of the nicer things they did was adding a lot more stuff to do once you've beaten the Elite 4. In my other experiences with Pokemon, once the Elite 4 was pummeled and my named put up on the Hall of Fame, I'd stick around long enough to catch the few legendaries that surfaced after continuing my save file. This time, they locked up a few towns until you've beaten the Elite 4, and even then it doesn't count. What makes it a little more interesting for me is that after the main storyline is complete, you can actually start finding and catching Pokemon from the previous versions.

     I'd better stop before I get ahead of myself. The Pokemon games are great fun (yes, all of them), and are also a great way to make friends. That is, if you have a DS, which I don't, which meant I couldn't play with anybody else. I'd trade my save-state slots for that any day. If you have a DS, or maybe a Game Boy, and you haven't picked up a copy of Pokemon yet, it might as well be an extremely pricey doorstop.

I'm not a big fan of horror movies or stories. My overactive imagination will torture me for days on end if I sat through a particularly spooky video or book. Horror games, however, seem to have little to no effect on my psyche. Perhaps it's because in games, you get to control your fate, which gives you a sense of security.

     For a while now, I've been poking around the horror section in hopes to discover what makes them tick. Most importantly, however, I'd like to find out what makes people tick. Why do they play these kinds of games? Do they want to be scared? If so, why?

     One of my first experiences in a horror game was Silent Hill. At first I was hesitant to play it, but having a friend by my side gave me enough guts to pick up the controller and give it a shot. My first thought after the first few minutes of gameplay was "Hey, this isn't really scary at all!" Aside from a few jumpscares, I breezed through the game without breaking a sweat in fear. My friend, however, found the game creepy, and didn't want to try it when I offered him the controller. Perhaps my innocent little mind wasn't affected by all the layers of psychological horrors that I couldn't understand at the time.

     I began to slowly see the appeal of horror games. Playing Silent Hill gave me a satisfied feeling, not unlike beating a game on hard difficulty. I felt a surging sense of accomplishment of looking straight into the eyes of fear and overcoming it. Of course, the feeling was somehow undermined by the fact that I didn't find the game really scary. I decided to look more into the world of horror games, and hoped to maybe understand more about the human mind too.

     Most of the horror games I've sampled haven't been able to make me shake in my boots just yet. A lot of them used jumpscares, which I felt was a cheap way to give the player an adrenaline rush. Unfortunately, those highs don't last very long, and normally don't have much of an impact later after you look back on it. I was still looking for something that would give me permanent psychological issues when Amnesia: The Dark Descent came out. This game came highly recommended as a genuinely scary game, and the players seemed to agree. After mustering some courage for a few months, I finally picked up the game, determined to see what the fuss was all about.

     To cut a long story short, I wasn't really impressed. They did do a lot better than most of the other games I've played though. For one, their atmosphere is top notch. The darkness of the castle is overwhelming, and I found myself lighting as many candles as my tinderbox supply allowed me to. You also had no way of defending yourself, which I feel is an excellent way to get people at least a tad nervous when playing the game. You'd think a game like that would be scary, but I was barely affected by it.

     Scratching my head, I thought back on my experience with the game, trying to figure out what went wrong. One of the few things I realized is that even though I had no means of self-defense, I still had options to survive. Well, all you can really do is hide in a closet, but once you've made your way into one, you know that you'll be safe. That's because the monsters aren't particularly clever, which brings me to my next point. The game was actually quite predictable. After running into the grunt once or twice, I began to understand how they functioned. Avoiding the monsters became more of a chore than a challenge once that happened.

     At one point in the game, I found myself in a wine cellar. The place was small in comparison to the other parts of the castle, and had no proper hiding spots. I explored the whole place, getting familiar with the layout while searching for the key item I needed. When I found it and picked it up, the screen suddenly focused itself onto a grunt that was observing me from across the room. The area I was in was an effective dead end, and the wine cellar itself wasn't a good place to meet face to face with a monster. Most people by that time would probably need a change of pants, but I calmly, even defiantly, stared back at the creature. I knew that if a monster appeared in an area like this, it would just be to spook the player, and will not actually attack. That would make the game unfair. With that in mind, I strolled up to the grunt, who turned back and went around the corner. I even tried to search the whole area for him, not surprised to find that he had vanished into thin air.

      Perhaps it's my experience as a game developer that kept my pants dry in most of the cases. Whether this is a good or bad thing is really up to debate. On one hand, I may be able to use this skill in crafting good games, but on the other, my suspension of disbelief is often severed, leaving me un-immersed in most games.

      There is one game that I'd like to try, though. Slender. It's an indie game that's getting quite popular as the newest and scariest game yet. Even though it was just a simple 15 minute game, I could see it being much more scarier than Amnesia. For one, not only are you defenseless, but your only option is to run. You can't hide, you can't stop the monster chasing you, and the game isn't over until he gets you. Secondly, the monster doesn't immediately attack, and is content in creepily observing you, closing the distance. Looking at him when he's too close means you're dead, so you spend the entirety of the game knowing he's behind you somewhere, but know you shouldn't look back.

      I'll give this game a shot when I have the time, and I hope that it may be the very first game to make me huddle in a corner of my bed at night. Unfortunately, my deductive mind has already told me that all I need to do is keep moving forward without ever turning back in order to beat the game. Let's hope I'm wrong.

 Since I'm looking for a job as a game designer, I've been told that criticizing games is a recommended start to learning how to become a good one. Without further ado, I present to you my review of the indie-game Bastion.

    Bastion is a hack-and-slash RPG game developed by Supergiant Games. I came to learn of its existence while surfing the net, which told me mostly about how awesome the game's sound was. That's what got my attention. Games these days normally boast about their graphics or gameplay hours. This was one of the few that had the "Best Sound" tag on it. I skeptically raised an eyebrow. Can a game's sound determine how good a game is? I decided to hear it for myself.

    As I started playing, the first thing I noticed was the art. It was vibrant and colorful, but not distracting. Very appealing. There were obviously not going for realism, so the game had that cartoon-y feel to it. It was all 3D-modelled, of course, but it felt like I had stuck my keyboard up a painting. In a good way.

    And then the narrator's voice came on.

    A deep, soothing voice began to dictate my moves as I made my way through the level. Each decision I made felt so much more meaningful as the narrator kept up his witty remarks. I no longer felt like I was controlling a silent, heartless protagonist, but someone who had hopes, dreams, and a soul. And they did it without having me sit through and read a wall of text. It kept the flow of the story going really well, too. Most games feel like you're faffing about before reaching an important point of the story. After that, it's usually more faffing about until the next checkpoint comes your way. The narration makes you feel like every little thing you do contributes to the story.

    As you make your way through the game, you get access to quite a few weapons. The combat in this game is done quite nicely, with the player being able to choose his fighting style. Perhaps you want to get up close and personal? Try the hammer and blade. Keeping them at a distance? Maybe a pike and a shotgun. Going for big damage? How about a mortar and rocket launcher combo? Although you don't have access to all the weapons at the start, you can still upgrade your weapons according to your tastes. And, what's more, you can swap their upgrades without cost!
The narrator even remarks on which weapons you picked for your loadout.

    Another thing they had was a distillery, which allowed you to hold on to some liquor that acted as passive skills. Unlike most RPGs, you could swap out your passive skills for a more favourable set if you wanted to. While this was a very interesting concept, it wasn't exactly executed as well as I'd imagine. Once you reach level 10, you can equip up to 10 spirits at a time. By then you would've found the set that works best for you, which would be very identical to the other sets that other players use. Unlike the weapons, which were balanced very nicely, some of the spirits are quite situational, pretty useless, or aren't worth equipping compared to the others. At least the narrator had something to say about each drink.

    The next thing that I found intriguing was the shrine. Here, you store the idols you've obtained along the way, giving you the option to pray to the gods if you so desire. What does that do? 
    
    It makes the enemies stronger.

    Yes, praying to a god gives the monsters you face a different ability for each deity. You can activate ALL the idols if you're feeling gutsy, or if you want a real challenge on your hands. Of course, activating them gives you experience and money bonuses, so there's an upside to it. I found it very interesting, as I sometimes played with the idols on not for the experience or money, but for fun. And yes, a brief description of the gods you've chosen is sometimes commented on by the narrator.

    The soundtrack in the game was, as expected, very good. Perhaps it was the way it fit the area you were exploring, or maybe it was its interesting blend of instrumental and techno. As I played, the music started to associate itself to the different parts of the story. An otherwise beautiful piece would bring back memories of how I decided to... well, let's not spoil anything, shall we? Just like the narration, it ties together really well with the gameplay and story, so it proved to be incredibly memorable. Even after the game was done, I'd continue listening to the music on YouTube.

     There was one thing I realized about the game a while after I completed it. As you play, you don't make any major decisions that alters the outcome, except at the very end. I didn't think too much into it until a while after I was done, but Mass Effect 3 suddenly came to mind. Now, I haven't played Mass Effect 3 yet, but I have heard people complaining about how the ending was terrible. One of the reasons was because the choices you made in the game didn't really affect the outcome of the game. All you had to do (or so I'm told) was choose which ending you wanted at the end.

     Now, Bastion did pretty much the exact same thing. The game's very linear, and you can't deviate from the story much, just like most RPGs. What made the difference between Mass Effect 3 and Bastion? I s'pose high expectations played a role, but what I think affected it the most was how they presented their options. Mass Effect 3 gave the player many choices over the course of the game, but most were arbitrary, and didn't really matter. Bastion, however, felt more like the game was prepping you for the final choice you had to make at the end. The whole game was set to allow you to see the full picture, and make a choice from there. In the end, the only choice you make is also the one that matters the most.

    All in all, this game was really good. I guess sounds are just as important in games as visuals and game mechanics. If there wasn't a sexy-voiced narrator dictating my every move, the game would just be another hack-and-slash with a storyline that no-one really cares about. The sounds drew you in, made you feel like you were a part of the world. And it did the job better than a wall of text I have to read through to understand what's going on. 

    Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be spending the next few hours having my cochlea massaged.