Beneath: A Transformation
And so Comp 07 begins for me with this modest little effort. One
knows as soon as one fires this one up that it's not going to contend
for, well, much of anything, but it still seemed to have the potential
to entertain me in a modest little text adventurey way. Its story
-- what there is of it -- is based upon several short stories by Robert
E. Howard of Conan fame.
I'm a nondescript fellow who has just been kicked out of the
library at closing time, and now I can't find anyplace to read the book
I was in the middle of. Well, anyway, that's about as close as
the game gets to providing you with a coherent motivation for the
things you are about to do.
So, then, the game involves wandering around town solving a bunch of
arbitrary little puzzles just because they are there. Further,
and I know this is going to drive many people nuts, it is ridiculously
easy to make the game unwinnable. The only way to get through
this one is to restart and restore again and again, gradually piecing
together not only what needs to be done but, more importantly in a way,
the exact order to do everything in so that all of the plot piece will
fall into place just so. The author does at least warn his
players about his design choice, so I did go into it with fair warning.
In the end it wasn't this choice that put me off the game.
I don't generally mind a game where restarting and restoring is
necessary if it is reasonable in size, reasonably solvable, and
clearly signposted as such by the author.
The thing is, though, a game like this, with little going for it in the
realm of plot, character, setting, or innovation, must rise and fall on
the strength of its puzzles and its funness as a purely gamelike
experience. And this one starts to fall down in those areas
pretty quickly. I got stuck before getting too far at all and
turned to the walkthrough, where I learned that I had to successfully
play a game of "guess the conversation topic" to continue. So I
duly started plugging away again, and duly got stuck again. The
problem this time was with the implementation, not the design. At
least, I think that throwing something in a crack should be the same as throwing something through
a crack. After this, I pretty much just played from the
walkthrough, but even doing this I had some problems solving one more
fairly ridiculous puzzle.
For all that, there was some effort put into this game. The
writing, while hardly memorable and decidedly minimalist, is clear and
grammatical and everything is basically spelled right. The
implementation, as noted above, has some problems -- notably
astmospheric movement messages that appear even when you try to move in
invalid directions and a strange rope that can be viewed from every
room in the game when placed in a certain position -- but I'm sure I
will see much, much worse before the Comp is over.
But tellingly, there is no mention in the credits of beta-testers.
A handful of testers could have told the author about the design
problems that make his game almost impossible to solve unaided and
spotted the various little technical glitches that bring the game down.
Why do so many authors fail to take this last, critical step?
Even if all of its problems were fixed, this would hardly be an
outstanding effort, but it could have scored a couple of points better
easily enough and left its first-time author with better
feelings for beginning a second, hopefully more ambitious effort.
Still, nondescript as this game is, it is the first game I've played in
which the player's ultimate goal is to become a worm. That has to
count for something.
Score: 4 out of 10.
Slap that Fish!
I had quite a lot of fun with this one in spite of its having quite a
few problems. The premise is certainly unique, being a Progress
Quest sort of send-up of the typical computer RPG. You play a
fellow who has a serious -- really serious -- objection to fish.
The entire game is a series of combats with deadlier and deadlier
finned enemies that take place in a typical city alleyway. How
can you fight fish when the alley is not -- or at least doesn't appear
to be -- underwater? Beats the hell out of me. You
learn to stop asking such questions soon enough and just go with it.
There are actually two levels on which to play the game. First of
all, you will likely just be trying to win each of the combats, and not
particularly concerned about what you look like doing it. During
the first half of the game, this is trivially easy, merely a matter of
punching, slapping, backhanding, and kicking your enemies in whatever
order feels most appropriate and most fun. It is so easy, in
fact, that I was starting to thinking the game was nothing but an
elaborate joke for a while. During the second half of the game,
though, straightforward hand-to-hand violence is usually not the
answer, in spite of the fact that you do get to "level up" and become
stronger a couple of times. If one tries to punch a shark, after
all, one can generally expect to lose one's arm no matter how strong
one is. Winning at this stage requires a bit more creative
thinking and puzzle-solving.
After each battle, you are scored based on how quickly, elegantly, and
efficiently you dispatched your opponent. Herein comes the other
level of challenge. My first time through the game my score was
not very good, and so I diligently started over to try to maximize my
score. I only got about halfway through this time, though, as I could not figure out how efficiently dispatch the tuna, and couldn't work up the motivation to continue with that ugly blot on my record.
So, yes, I had fun with this, and it deserves lots of credit for
originality and for a certain cheerful insanity, even though I found
the whole premise and writing perhaps not so hilarious as its author
seemed to wish it to be. There are lots of cracks showing in the
implementation, though, which make it impossible for me to give this a
really good score. All sorts of scenery and fishy parts are
unimplemented. Stuff like this crops up again and again:
>x shark
The shark adjusts its monocle to get a better look at you. You can hear its stomach rumbling, in anticipation of its next meal.
>x monocle
I don't know the word "monocle".
What makes this even more
frustrating is that there are places where you do have to target
particular parts of a fish. Thus winning the game literally
requires that you constantly beat your head against its limitations,
looking for that one actually implemented thing that you need to solve
a puzzle. It's the sort of thing that was par for the course
once, of course, but not quite what I want to still be seeing in 2007.
There are also outright bugs to found, including a couple of nasty TADS
library programming faults. So it's a somewhat rough and
unpolished experience, but still good fun, and absolutely screaming for
the good cleaning-up that would turn it into an emminently
recommendable little trifle.
Score: 6 out of 10.
A Matter of Importance
I beta-tested this game for Valentine, so I obviously cannot vote on
it. I'm going to go ahead and write a review, though, along with
assigning it the score I would have given.
The premise has me playing the part of a thief who is about to get
kicked out of the guild due to poor performance of his thiefly duties.
Out of this comes a fairly straightforward little adventure,
albeit with some fairly subversive meta-commentary on the IF genre
itself to spice things up. Although Valentine doesn't explicitly
explain this part until the game is over, it's probably the most
interesting aspect of the piece, so I'm going to spoil it here.
Valentine does not like what he calls "decoration items," by which he
means those scenery objects that exist for flavor but cannot be
interacted with in any meaningful way, only examined. It's a
prejudice I don't share at all, as it seems to me there are only two
ways to avoid them: to meticulously implement every possible
interaction the player might choose to make with everything
(impossible), or to simply leave everything but puzzle objects
umimplemented (ugly). Therefore "decoration items" are the least
bad solution, it seems to me, although I don't generally appreciate
simple dismissive messages for them like "That's not important."
Even after testing the game, I'm not quite sure if it is messages
like this or the whole concept of scenery objects in general that
Valentine objects to, and therefore don't quite know how to take the
satirical aspect of the game.
But anyway, the satire works this way: Every single item in these long,
intricate room descriptions is examinable, but everything that is not
necessary for actually solving the game has something to the effect of
"but that's not important" tacked to the end of its (often very
detailed) description. The satire doesn't really work for me, I
think for two reasons. First, I don't really have any great
objection to the thing that Valentine is satirizing; and secondly
exactly what Valentine is doing never became really clear to me until I
read his end notes. Before that, I just thought the game had a
really weird, repetitive way of describing its world.
But once we move away from the meta-commentary, what do we have?
Well, we have a playable enough text adventure with a number of
very clever, fun puzzles and a couple of extremely dodgy ones.
The completely out of left field solution to the soccer puzzle is
the worst offender. I didn't get this when testing, and still
wouldn't have gotten it this time around if I hadn't remembered what to
do. (I didn't even realize my shoes were implemented, since they
don't show up in my inventory or my self-description). The
guess-the-verb bit that comes when crossing the road will probably
drive some people crazy as well, although I actually got this one very
quickly and kind of enjoyed it.
The writing is certainly vivid enough, although rather exhausting at
times in its sheer depth of descriptive detail . Maybe it's
supposed to be so as part of the satire? I cleaned up a lot of
the prose when testing, but the occasional odd word choice or sentence
structure still betrays that the game was written by a non-native
English speaker, especially toward the end when I must have been
getting worn out making corrections and fell down a bit on the job.
The exhaustion factor is counteracted by the occasional very
funny bit, however. My girlfriend is still laughing at the footnote describing the soccer... I mean, football.
Score: 6 out of 10.
A Fine Day for Reaping
Mr. Webb's entry in the previous Competition, The Sisters, was one of
my unsung favorites. This year's entry is very different from
that game, showing impressive versality. Once again I am very
impressed by the writing and design, but let down a bit more this time
but that certain lack of professional polish that seems to be par for
the course with ADRIFT games.
The game has you playing a version of Death (a.k.a. the Grim Reaper)
inspired by the portrayal of same in Terry Pratchett's Discworld
novels. I haven't read that depiction -- I bounced hard off a
couple of Discworld novels that did not feature Death years ago, and
can't work up the interest to return to the series -- but I can say
that in game form it is very, very funny. This author can write!
It's a pleasure to play a genuinely funny game, and one that
doesn't come along as often as you might think. Most jokey IF
tends to feel labored to me. Death in this game is a bit of a
loser, really, with a pronounced lisp and a decided lack of
self-confidence, but he's only the tip of the proverbial comedy
iceberg. There are many, many funny situations and turns of
phrase that made me smile often and laugh out loud at least
occasionally, engendering enough good will in me to let me overlook --
or at least not punish too badly -- plenty of faults.
As Death, you have been instructed by the Powers That Be to reap five
unfortunate souls who have proven reluctent to leave their bodies
behind. (Death in this milieu is, it seems, is a kind of
second-level troubleshooting service, dealing only with those souls who
prove problematic and presumably cannot be reaped by lower minions.)
These souls are located all over the world, but easily enough
reached through the use of Horse, your (you guessed it) skeletal steed.
The game design is really quite clever, much more intricate than
the typical effort. The scenes of all of these passings -- plus
your home in some non-corpreal dimension and a few others you may
discover as you play along -- interrelate with one another. Items
from one are often required to solve puzzles in another, etc.
Further, the problems surrounding each soul can be solved in two
or three different ways, all of them generally clever and satisfying.
The end result is an impressive example of open, non-linear
gameplay. It wouldn't work quite so well in a more serious game,
of course, but here it's a real treat.
All is not sunshine and roses, though. There are constant little
annoyances, mostly arising from ADRIFT itself. All of the
standard complaints can be made. There's the garish, ugly
interpreter, of course, that can't even get MORE prompting right on my
machine. (Why does the one significant commercial IF development
system have the most amateurish interpreter?) And then there's
the terrible parser, which I'm not even sure is worthy of the name.
The author wrestles actively with some of this, leading to ugly
solutions like this to the problem of using an elevator:
Type either 0,1,2 or 3 depending
on whether you want to go to the lobby, first or second floor or simply
exit the lift at the floor you are already on.
Apparantly something like "push first button" is too much for the
ADRIFT parser. In other places Mr. Webb has come up with some
quite clever, intricate puzzles, but the game solves them for
you in response to the simplest beginning on your part, as they
were apparantly just too difficult to properly implement in ADRIFT.
This sort of thing really leaches a lot of fun out of a game.
And then there is a certain sloppiness here that cannot (gasp!) be
blamed on ADRIFT. Lots of typos, run-ons, etc., that could have
been corrected with a bit more proof-reading, and some significant bugs
and glitches as well. I found I could solve the Paris problem at
least twice due to the game's not recognizing that the soul had already
been reaped. And then there is stuff like this everywhere:
Room 247 (Paris)
You are in a hotel room in a luxurious Parisian hotel. The decor
is of the usual standard expected by those who have plenty of money but
no class. Gold trim and regal, red wallpaper with extravagant,
crystal light fittings and a white smoke alarm that looks out of
place. The floor is polished oak, or some other kind of luxury
wood. There is a four-poster double bed against the far
wall. Everything is very wet from the sprinkler, and the
chalk-line has been erased.
Exits: East
Agathe Laurent's corpse lies on the bed.
examine bed
A large, soft bed. It's probably very, very bad for your back. Agathe Laurent beckons you over, grinning.
The annoyances and problems in this one never overwhelmed my
enjoyment, though, and for that reason I'm going to give it a pretty
good score in spite of everything. It kept me entertained and
interested throughout, which I suppose is the most important thing.
Mr. Webb has a rare gift for both writing and design. I
hope he will continue to create IF at the least, and maybe even choose
to use a more robust development system at some point.
Score: 7 out of 10
Adventure XT
And so I come to the first of Paul Panks' three (!) entries. As
usual, I don't quite know what to say about this one that I haven't
already said in previous reviews of his work. Mr. Panks basically
(ha!) writes the same game over and over again with only the most minor
variations. Once again you start in a village tavern about to
begin a quest to free the surrounding land from the oppression of some
evil wizard or other. Once again you do that by wandering over a
huge landscape that contains a whole lot of nothing, fighting monsters
in simplistic randomized combat when you aren't fighting with the
atrocious two-word parser. Once again the parts of the game that
are supposed to be funny, such as (I presume) the Smurf encampment
aren't, but much else unintentionally is. Take this:
Light Forest
You have reached a particularly dark section of the forest, more secluded than
the rest.
Or this:
In a Small Cottage
You are standing inside a large cottage within the forest.
I'm not sure even "large cottage" is a good description of the
place, actually, because it turns out to have a long, long hallway full
of rooms inside that doesn't really match my notion of a cottage of any
description. But hey, who am I to quibble in the face of other
delights like water I can carry around using only my bare hands?
I'll give this a two just because it can't be easy to write an
adventure game in BASIC and have it turn out even this well. (The
obvious corollary, of course, being "why the hell would you want to?")
Score: 2 out of 10.
Fox, Fowl, and Feed
This whole game is a single set-piece puzzle which has you, as a
delivery man, trying to transport a fox, a duck, and some feed across a
river using only an old rowboat. You can only carry one item
across at a time, which is where the difficulty lies. I'll let
the game explain further:
Notes:
* Do not leave the fox alone with the duck. Foxes think ducks are tasty!
* Do not leave the duck alone with the grain. Ducks are always hungry...
* Only one item may be transported at a time in any non-company vehicle (e.g., rowboat).
Anyone who has played any quantity of IF at all can see exactly
where this is going. Still, it's a clever little idea in its way,
and has the potential to make a nice diversion.
If it wasn't hopelessly, completely bugged, that is. I solved the
game in about five minutes simply by dropping the pesky duck into the
middle of the river -- something I assume from reading the hints I am
not supposed to be able to do -- and picking it up again once the fox
and sack of grain were safely across. The hints say that the fox
is supposed to get upset when placed in the boat, leading to problems,
but that didn't happen to me either.
The writing is literate enough, and there's even some nicely done
online hints, so some effort went into this. I'm guessing this
was just an instance of a last-minute change gumming up the works, or
maybe it just really needed more than one beta-tester. Anyway,
I'll give it a 3 because it was mildly amusing even in its bugged state
and because it wasn't a bad idea for a game. Shame about the execution.
Score: 3 out of 10.
Wish
This is a sweet enough little story about a young girl who enters a
dream-world at a moment of crisis in her life. You travel through
this landscape, solving simple puzzles as you go, while occasional
"cut scenes" gradually reveal the backstory in the real world.
It's not a bad effort, and its heart is certainly in the right
place, but I have to say that I didn't find much here very compelling
either. The scenery of the dream is described in a rather
minimalistic fashion that doesn't allow for much sense of wonder, and
the story felt like something I had heard a million times before,
albeit often more evocatively told.
From a technical point of view, nothing is really wrong here. The
game seems well-tested, the prose is grammatical, and everything seems
to work as it should. I do have issues with one of the puzzles,
though. I figured out pretty quickly that I needed to construct a
kite, but was unable to figure out a way to use the gel to glue the
thing together in spite of trying every phrasing imaginable.
It turns out I had to rub the gel on myself, at which point I
accidentally drip some onto my half-constructed kite. I must drip
a whole lot on there, actually, as it is somehow enough to hold the
whole contraption together. Not only is this frustrating in
itself, but it also robs the player of the satisfaction of solving the
puzzle herself by making the whole thing random and accidental.
This is the worst offender, but it does point to some of what is wrong
with this game. It's not bad, but it doesn't quite manage to be
good either. No effort has been made to customize the stock
Inform 6 parser, meaning that things must often be phrased somewhat
awkwardly, or just in the One True Way the author anticipated.
Yes, it's bug-free, but the author didn't do anything to take
that extra step to make this a polished, non-frustrating experience.
A little more ambition -- in the story, the writing, and the
absolutely linear design -- would have gone a long way with me.
Score: 6 out of 10.
Deadline Enchanter
Most of the time, these reviews are pretty easy to write. Every
once in a while, though, I come upon a game like this, and I don't
quite know what to say. This is one of the most inscrutable works
of IF I have ever played, and that's saying something. What's it
about, you ask? Well, that's just it... I'm not quite sure.
You start out wandering through a city that is apparantly
suffering under some sort of occupation or oppression, but it's
all described so obliquely -- and by such a discursive, chatty narrator
-- that I can't tell much more than that. I'm really not even
sure if I'm human or alien.
It's not that getting through the game is the slightest bit difficult.
It's comically easy, in fact. You find lying about the
locations you visit lists of commands to enter, literally in-game
walkthroughs. Follow these to the letter, and you're golden.
Should you be masochist enough to try to ignore these and puzzle
your way through independently, you will quickly realize this to be
impossible. Many essential elements are not described at all in
the room descriptions. You can only know that an exit, for
instance, is in a certain direction by following the walkthroughs.
So the problem is not playing the game. The problem is figuring
out what the hell you've just played when all is said and done.
There seems to be quite an intricate narrative in its author's
head, involving at least three governments -- or cults, or races, or
aliens -- at odds with one another. Although the game is
absolutely linear, you switch locations and points of view at a
bewildering rate, and there is something of a moral choice at the end
-- if a choice (offered by the narrator) between turning off the game
and continuing to play can really be considered an in-game choice, that
is. The other problem with this moral choice is that I didn't
understand its ramifications -- no surprise there, I didn't understand
much of anything -- and by this time I was way too annoyed by the
pretentiously chatty narrator to really care anyway.
Speaking of pretension, I feel like in order to be a proper,
sophisticated reviewer I should be throwing around some of it right
now, talking about how this game "subverts our expectations of IF" and
making sure to throw in some good postmodern buzzwords. I just
don't have the heart for it, though. I didn't understand this
game, nor did I like it very much. I think I'll just leave it at
that. I'm not against "difficult" works per se, but a difficult
work has to interest me enough in some way -- in form, in setting, in
character, or in plot -- to make me want
to plumb its depths. This one never did. The gameplay is
completely linear and uninteresting, and nothing about the background
in which it takes place grabbed my interest at all. The game does
indulge in some clever wordplay with the parser and other staples of IF
that is almost funny, but nothing else about it made me care. I'm
not going to give it a terrible score because I can tell that a lot of
work and thought went into this. I'll give it a nice, neutral
five then subtract one for irritating me on such a frequent basis.
Possible Golden Banana of Discord material here, I think.
Score: 4 out of 10.
My Mind's Mishmash
This game takes place in an online multi-player VR game of the (I
assume) near future. Within this VR takes place quite an
intricate story, involving five preternaturally gifted teenagers who
have been conscripted due to their native psychic abilities to fight an
Alien Menace. Think Endor's Game happening within a smaller and more tightly scripted World of Warcraft,
in ten or twenty years time. Now, you are yourself a teenager in
the real world with the rather annoying handle of Surviveor (don't
ask), who is a player within this game. Initially you are playing
the role of one of the five chosen teenagers, but soon other events --
or, more specifically, the nefarious actions of your arch-enemy
Memoryblam -- leave you running about the simulation as a sort of
ghost. You must find your way through five "episodes" of the game
by locating an exit node in each that will allow access to the next
level. And of course you must fend off the harrasments of
Memoryblam, and eventually defeat him before making your final escape.
Got out all that? If not, don't worry about it.
Suffice to say that if you fail, all will be lost. Or at
least your homework will when your computer crashes.
In spite of having short tolerance for snotty teenage gamers, I have to
recognize that it's a clever and intricate scenario, well thought
through for the most part. There are problems here, though, that
make it impossible for me to love or even like it too much.
First of all, it's written with ADRIFT, and the usual parser problems
with that system crop up right from the first scene, in which you are
fighting, still "in character" as this point, inside a sort of robotic
combat suit. (Shades of Starship Troopers.
Mr. Street has certainly covered all of the classic science
fiction bases with this one.) This suit is equipped with a
suitably cool variety of weaponry. It's not much fun to play
with, however, when stuff like this starts happening:
shoot traitor with psychic disruptor
You activate the machine guns, aiming them towards the traitor's suit.
You scatter your fire to try to catch the quickly dodging suit. Some
bullets hit the mark, but the armour is too strong. You eventually stop
to conserve bullets and consider your next tactic.
In case you were wondering: yes, the psychic disruptor and the
machine guns are two completely different weapons. It's stuff
like this that leads me to call the ADRIFT "parser" more of a simple
pattern matcher than anything really worthy of the term. This
sort of stupidity continues throughout the game, leaving you with that
constant uncomfortable feeling of wondering whether you are truly on
the wrong track or the game just doesn't understand what you are trying
to do because you haven't hit on the One True Word Combination.
Some very tricky puzzles, and ADRIFT's unfortunate tendency to
lie to you about what it can really understand by giving innocuous
responses to things that should result in "I don't understand you"
error messages, really excacberate the problem.
But this game has problems that go beyond ADRIFT. While the
intricacy of the world it constructs is admirable, there are a few
puzzles I found dodgy and underclued, bordering on unfair if not
completely crossing the line. That's a shame, as there are plenty
of others that are genuinely engaging and fun to solve. Another
big problem is the writing. It's clear and grammatical and all
that, but it reads like an adventure game filtered through the
sensibility of Rain Man. Everything is described well enough, but
it's just so dry that it
quickly becomes a chore to get through this quite lengthy game.
If the author can't get any more excited than this about his own
game, why should I?
The logic of your ability to interact with the gameworld also seems to
break down in a few places, unless I am misunderstanding something.
You wear something called a ghost cap throughout most of the
game, which makes you invisible to computer-controlled inhabitants of
the world but also prevents you from directly interacting with your
physical surroundings. Many of the puzzles thus involve taking
off the ghost cap at just the right moment to accomplish what you need
to while not being spotted and killed. For the most part, this
works well enough, but in some places later in the game you can do some
decidedly active things while wearing
the cap. This leads to an even further level of confusion, as you
are never quite sure what you really can and cannot do while wearing
the cap.
This game reflects a lot of work, but it has too many problems to let me give it a good score.
Score: 5 out of 10.
Reconciling Mother
This is a very ambitious effort in some ways, but falls completely
apart due to a multitude of design and implementation problems.
You play a secret agent of some sort who has been sent to visit
Miskatonic University to investigate... something. I'm not quite
sure what, because I frankly didn't finish it. I'm going to
assume from the name of the university that Lovecraftian elements crop
up at some point. If I had to guess, I would say that the big
reveal here will show the game to be an exploration of the player's own
psychic landscape in the tradition of Losing Your Grip.
And my Lord, what a landscape! The game drops you into the middle
of an enormous map and leaves you to explore, not providing any more
direction at all. The breadth of the implementation may be
sprawling, but the depth is shockingly shallow. Absolutely
nothing in the many, many rooms is implemented except for those objects
that appear by themselves at the end of the room descriptions.
The author seems to have willfully ignored the most basic
techniques for making a polished game, which is made even more
maddening by the fact that he is working with TADS 3, easily the most
powerful IF development system ever created. How bad is it?
Well, there is only one way to refer to virtually all objects in
the game, and it's not always the most intuitive way you can imagine.
For instance, the "yellow disk" you encounter can only be
referred to as "yellow". Neither "yellow disk" nor "disk" are
acceptable.
The writing is not bad here, but the whole is a strange combination of
too little (as described above) and too much. When something
actually is described,
it's often done with a long, dense paragraph that is exhausting to
read. Combine this with the sprawling map and complete lack of
any direction to guide your explorations and the whole quickly becomes
mind-numbing. I dutifully played for two hours, but at the end of
that time I still didn't have a clue what was really going on and
couldn't really bring myself to care. Upon discovering seven
films on Ganymede -- don't ask how I got there -- each with its own
bloated, aimless description to view upon popping it into the player, I
gave up in sheer exhaustion without having solved, or even found, a
single puzzle or even visiting most of the locations on the map.
Much, much more needs to be done to hook the player and to
provide him with some structure for just what he is trying to
accomplish. Aimless wandering in the hope that a plot will break
out somewhere just won't cut it.
Score: 3 out of 10.
Across the Stars
At last I come to the first game of Competition 2007 that well and
truly rocks. It's been a long time coming this year, but it
was worth the wait. This one is a delight to play, and does just
about everything right, beginning with an elaborate set of feelies
worthy of Infocom themselves. In fact, this is very much an
Infocom homage, particularly to their science fiction games.
Never fear, though, it consistently chooses the right aspects to
recreate, and isn't afraid to embrace modernity in other areas.
While it may pay tribute to Planetfall, you won't find any hunger
timers in this one, folks. Nor will you find it short of
imagination of its own.
The game begins when you, a decidedly junior crewmember in the space
armada of the Xulthe'en Empire, awake to find your ship under
attack from space pirates. It takes place over two extended acts.
In the first, you are simply trying to find a way to survive the
pirates who have overrun your ship and killed everyone but you from her
crew; in the second, which is longer and even better, you are trying to
survive the desert planet to which you have "escaped." Although
the game is rife with comic touches, it never becomes a pure screwball
comedy a la most of Steve Meretzky's games. The feel is rather
unabashedly golden age science fictional. It's no secret by this
point that I grew up with this stuff and love it dearly, so this
game was right up my alley even if it hadn't been executed so well.
But it is executed so well.
It gets that delicate art of puzzle design just about perfect.
I was frequently forced to stop and think, but only got stumped
to the point of resorting to the (very well done, like everything here)
hints one time... and then found that my stumpedness was my own fault,
resulting from a failure to examine my surroundings closely enough.
There is challenge here, but it is never insurmountable.
For me, the difficulty was pitched perfectly, making the game
challenging but never hair-pullingly so. Even the game's
geography just works.
It's fairly extensive by modern standards, covering over 45
rooms, but is revealed gradually and fits together so intuitively that
mapmaking is unnecessary. There is no directionless wandering
here, as you always know pretty well what you need to do.
The game has been very well tested, in two phases by a collection of
about a dozen names, and it shows. I did encounter the (very)
occasional typo, and one or two little glitches, but really on a game
this large that's nothing to complain about. Another thing I have
to make note of is the bundle of little extra touches the game provides
for nothing more than fleshing out its world, such as a searchable
encyclopedia full of information about its setting, most of which has
no direct bearing on events at hand. It's simply there, free for
you to explore to whatever extent you are interested as a
palatte-cleanser between solving puzzles.
Afer considerable thought, I'm going to give this a nine rather a ten
because it doesn't really push the boundaries of IF in any way and also
because in all truth it's much too long for the Competition. (I
can't bring myself to really
punish it for that, but I suspect others may not be so kind. It
took me about five hours to finish. I didn't mind a bit, but
still...) I am, though, thrilled to be able to write my first
unabashedly positive (gushing, even) review of a Competition 2007 game
at last. This one is a delight. And there's lots of room
for sequels, so here's hoping...
Score: 9 out of 10.
Ghost of the Fireflies
A couple of the choicer bits:
In anger, Camphora reincarnated as the ghost of
a firefly, an magnificant breed of beatles known
as the Lampyridae.
More magnificant than John, Paul, George, and Ringo???
>i
You are carrying
A Large Ice Dragon, breathing fire paradoxically (dragon).
A Large Ice Dragon, breathing fire paradoxically (dragon).
A Large Ice Dragon, breathing fire paradoxically (dragon).
I gave up on this one pretty quickly after the sword I thought I was
carrying inexplicably turned into the above three ice dragons, and I
found myself locked in a combat I could not escape with a bushido.
I kept trying to run away, and the game kept telling me I was
successful, but the fight never seemed to end.
This game raises the bar for Mr. Panks by being pointlessly gory and
needlessly offensive in addition to all of the usual Panksian problems:
In the ancient forest, Atsuta Jingu
The bloodied, mangled body of Jesus of Nazareth sits by the road here, stabbing
himself with thorns from his blood-soaked crown. 'Why? Yeshua! WHHHYYYYY??!!'
he moans bitterly. You pay him no mind, for he is a fool, lost in the shadows
of a forlorn world. The forest stretches for miles to the east, shimmering in
the hallowed darkness with a kind of perverted, magical ecstacy.
It looks like Mr. Panks orginally intended for this game to have
started in a different location, then changed things at the last
minute, because all of the room descriptions seem to assume you are
coming from the opposite direction. Of course, having room
descriptions that assume you are coming from any direction at all is a
problem in itself, but baby steps, right? And then there is the
bizarre non-interactive introduction, which makes no sense at all.
(Well, it's not completely
non-interactive. You do get to type "go west" a couple of times.
Only "go west," mind you. Anything else the game refuses.)
I could run through a laundry list of errors and gaffes, but what's the
point? I will just note to Mr. Panks that introducing his game
with a page-long screed against the people who will score him might not
be a wise strategy for doing well in the Comp. Oh, and one more
thing: my girlfriend notes that this is the first game she's seen
in which the magic system involves preparing a fruit salad.
Score: 1 out of 10.
The Lost Dimension
This game does just about everything possible to prejudice judges
against itself. Not only is it Windows only, but it's Windows
2000 or later only and requires that one have the .NET framework
installed. On top of all this, it requires itself to be installed
as an application to be played. And once started, it reveals a
very non-conventional interface, gameplay that revolves around
randomized combat, and endless problems with spelling and grammar.
For all of these reasons, I confidently expect it to place well
below the middle in the Competition, due to those who give it a
knee-jerk one when they realize they cannot run it (or are unwilling to
do what is required to do so) as well as those who give it a knee-jerk
one based on a two minute first impression of play.
For all the hype it continually receives, I have never had occasion to
actually install the .NET framework before. I do try to play
everything, though, so I dutifully completed the 20 MB download and
tedious install, not expecting very much from the game when I finally
got to play. But something happened on the way to giving this a
bad score... I found it is actually pretty fun.
You play a fellow who is whisked away to a strange island when his
commercial flight is passing over the Bermua Triangle. Your goal
is to escape the island, which involves exploring, solving simple
puzzles, and fighting hosts of monsters. As you progress through
the game, you find better weaponry, improve your statistics, and go up
in level, all of which allows you to fight ever tougher monsters.
That's pretty standard stuff, of course, but thousands of
computerized RPGs bear witness to the fact that it can still be pretty
satisfying stuff, albeit in a different way from that of conventional
IF.
The plot and setting are so silly to be unworthy of discussion, but the
interface works surprisingly well. You can type in commands
should you wish to do so, but the game was clearly designed to be
played using the mouse. Its screen is divided into several areas:
one displaying a description of your current location, one scrolling
updates about events in the game, one a list of items carried, one your
current abilities and other statistics, one items in the room you might
interact with, and one a menu of compass directions and verbs. By
limiting the interface like this, the author has managed to avoid the
biggest problem that comes with rolling your own IF: writing the parser.
So, yes, the premise is silly, and the writing is absolutely atrocious,
featuring terrible spelling, strange diction, and wild swinging between
present and past tense, sometimes within the same sentence.. The
author is either a non-native English speaker, the poster child for the
failings of the American educational system, or else wrote every line
of text in the game while slightly tired and / or drunk and then never
glanced at it again. I'm going to guess the first, because some
of the writing is just bizarre, such as the game's proclivity for
referring to you as "it."
Because this game emphasises its ludic over its narrative aspects so
much, however, the writing didn't really bother me that much. And
while the plot is absurd, the game is structured well enough to make it
fun and satisfying to work through. I can't deny it... I simply
had fun with this one. And I was impressed enough by the
interface that the IF author within me awoke and started wondering just
what it might be possible to
create with a more sophisticated version of this basic engine.
It's nice to see something a little bit different in IF that
works. While this game is no more than a slight entertainment,
the ideas and basic design behind it have considerable potential.
Score: 7 out of 10.
In the Mind of the Master
Sometimes I fear my reviews of David Whyld's games will become as
repetitive as my reviews of Paul Panks's games. (Now, there's a
comparision both are bound to hate!) While Whyld's games are
certainly not as unplayably bad as Panks's, they are similar in that
they continually suffer from the same set of problems that cost them a
shot at a decent placing in the Comp year after year. These
problems (for Mr. Whyld only) come down to a sort of general
sloppiness, an inability to or disinterest in really proofreading,
bug-swatting, and polishing. In the interest of not beating a
dead horse, I'm just going to say here that Master
is completely typical of Whyld's work in this respect, and that it
probably cost him at least a point -- possibly two -- in the final
score I will give him.
And that's a shame, because in many ways this is an interesting effort. I wouldn't say it's a successful
effort, but it is a very interesting failure, the sort of thing that
can sometimes coax from me a higher score than a bog-standard game that
does everything right, albeit safely. The player takes the role
of the eponymous Master, a shadowy fellow who can slip into disguises
and almost become the person
represented. He makes his living using this talent, although the
specifics of how he does so are left rather vague. (More on that
later.) The game begins at a moment of crisis: the Master has
just learned that some bad characters are coming to his little
apartment to kill him, and must make his escape. To do so, he can
choose to don one of three disguises: a gentleman's attire, a postal
worker's uniform, or a policeman's uniform.
This is where things get interesting. The majority of the game is
very open and non-linear. A variety of scenes will be presented
to the player depending on what disguise he chooses and what choices he
makes after that. I doubt that a player could see more than half
of the possibilities on any given playthrough, if that. All of
these threads finally come back together in a single end-game, assuming
the player survives to get there, of course. (This end-game, by
the way, is marked by an egregious guess the verb puzzle that Whyld
claimed in his notes would be obvious, but that never even occurred to
me until I read the hints. C'est la vie.)
I'm usually very interested in non-linear or multi-plotted IF, but this
example didn't really work for me. I think my problems might come
down to the fact that there is no moral dimension to the choices you
are forced to make. Picking a disguise is essentially a random
choice, and everything that follows from there is in the same vein.
I'm never being asked to engage with anything that I (or my
character) really care about.
The background of the story, the What's Really Going On, is so
vague and amorphous that it's hard to feel any real stake in the
choices the Master makes. And for all of the kaledicscopic
variation possible in the first two-thirds of the game, you always end
up at the same place, with everything you've done before being
essentially irrelevant. The choices you make are merely procedural
choices. Once I realized this, I became much less interested in
replaying the game to explore those other options. From the
standpoint of an author, I'm not sure whether offering such a
non-linear plot to the player makes any sense if you aren't
willing to also let her affect the greater outcome of the game and
really explore the story from
a higher level. It just seems a good way to do about three times
as much work for the same end result. (Offering multiple
solutions to puzzles when said solutions are all logical and fit in
naturally is a very different thing, of course, and one of which I
heartily approve.)
The writing is engaging, although (as noted above) somewhat sloppy.
One gets the sense that Mr. Whyld is perfectly capable of writing
smoother, more polished prose; he just doesn't take the time to do so.
The game is played in third person past tense -- except for when
the occasional bit of second person present tense sneaks in
accidentally, that is -- but I'm not sure if this really adds anything
to the game. Sometimes it comes across as unintentionally
comical, in fact. Mr. Whyld frankly admits in his copious notes
that he doesn't himself know just who the Master really is or what he
is up to in the game. He wants to spin this as a positive, but to
me it just represents a story getting out of its author's own control.
An author shouldn't have to ask his players to do the work of
deciding What Is Really Going On for him. Making her puzzle out
the big picture is fine, but there should be
a big picture to puzzle out, as opposed to a bunch of random
data-points. Not that this is an uncommon problem... I think many
of Andrew Plotkin's games suffer from exactly the same thing, so Mr.
Whyld is in good company I'd say. Minority opinion and all that,
of course... I'm just not a post-modern kind of guy.
Overall, this is an interesting, even brave, effort that didn't really work for me. Props for chutzpah, though.
Score: 6 out of 10.
Varkana
This is a vividly imagined little effort that I quite enjoyed in spite
of some problems. It's a fantasy story, taking place in a world
that reminded me a bit of the young adult trilogy of novels (and
classic computer game) Below the Root.
You play Farahnaaz -- lots of crazy names in this one, folks -- a
library employee and repairer of books in the backwater city-state of
Arg Varkana. As the game begins, a diplomatic delegation has just
arrived from another, apparantly larger and more developed region for
trade negotiations of some sort. Your mentor has request that you
repair and keep hidden away a mysterious book of poetry that the
Ashtartans -- those are the visitors -- want very much to get their
hands on for some reason.
As the names may demonstrate, the author has clearly put a lot of work
into her setting, and it comes across very well. In fact, it's by
far the best thing about this one. She hasn't settled for a
collection of typical fantasy tropes, but rather designed a world that
feels alive and believable, and that represents a surprising
combination of fantasic and technological elements. For instance,
various people fly into Arg Varkana's airfield using both winged creatures and mechanical flying machines, depending on their cultural predilictions.
The gameplay is not bad, but less impressive than the setting, being a
collection of fairly typical text adventure puzzles which are mostly
satisfying enough to solve but not compelling or innovative in any way.
However, things really break down a bit in the area of NPC
conversation. I got hopelessly stuck at one point and had to turn
to the hints, whereupon I learned that I had been trying to ask the
right question all along, but had not chosen the One True Keyword.
Further, all of the NPCs are so unresponsive that finding the few
things you can talk to them
about quickly becomes an exercise in frustration. Something like
Eric Eve's Inform 7 conversation extensions would have improved this
game greatly.
I was also a little annoyed by my complete lack of agency in the game's
plot. Toward the end of the game you are forced to switch sides,
as it were, and help the individual who starts out as the adversary to
steal the book and escape. I saw absolutely no reason to do this,
and so was continually trying to find a way to turn the tables on him
and capture him. I was rather shocked when I realized I was
neither expected nor allowed to do this.
Still, this is a pretty solid effort overall. The writing is
fine, as are the technical aspects of the game. (Well, I saw the
occasional glitch in each, but nothing major.) The few original
illustrations that pop up here and there are also nicely done and a do
great job of adding to the setting and atmosphere. This one
frustrated me a bit at times, but overall it's a solid piece of work
and a promising first effort from a new author.
Score: 7 out of 10.
Gathered in Darkness
Toward the end of this game you realize that it uses the Lovecraft
mileu,
but it never even tries to evoke the feeling of that writer. Instead,
it is something even less subtle than Lovecraft: a B-movie style
splatterfest horror game, with perhaps the highest ratio of dismembered
bodies to rooms that I have ever seen in an IF game. In
fact, it's so over the top with the gore and cheese that it's downright
campy. The evil villian is named Dr. Skinn and his henchman
Lector, for crying out loud! I know this story won't be to
everyone's taste, but I took it in what I hope was the spirit intended
and just enjoyed the ride. In spite of the problems I'm about to
detail, I had a lot of real fun with this one.
Unfortunately, though, it does have problems -- major problems that
left me unable to reward it with a really good score even though I
wanted to. First of all, this game was built with Quest, which is
far from my favorite IF system as a player. Quest purports to
provide you with a list of objects in the current room that you can
manipulate, but at least in this game this doesn't really work.
Immediately visible objects that you can pick up
are listed, but many other objects which you can and, indeed, must
interact with are not. The parser, meanwhile, is so bad that you
quickly find yourself wishing you could just play the whole thing by
pointing and clicking. Although I was a bit annoyed by all this,
it wasn't the main problem. Once you learn the big quirk of Quest
-- the necessity to fall back on the normally useless verb "use"
anytime you want to do anything remotely complicated -- games created
in the system, or at least this game, play fairly smoothly.
A bigger problem is the writing. Well, in a sense it's not bad
writing at all. The author has done really quite a nice job of
vividly describing things while slathering great gobs of B-movie
goodness all over everything. In another sense, though, the
writing is terrible. There are endless problems with diction and
grammar, and maloprops and plain old misspellings are literally in just
about every sentence. There are some real howlers here: "cheese
grader" in place of "cheese grater" was perhaps my favorite. I
never had the impression that the author was stupid, nor did I ever --
with just a bare few exceptions -- ever have trouble understanding what
he was trying
to say. In a sense, then, the writing works in spite of itself,
but nevertheless really needs a huge amount of cleaning up. Just
a simple spell-checking would be a huge start.
The other big issue I have involves the room descriptions. When
you enter a room for the first time, the game gives you a nice
description of everything, as you would expect. (And the author
has gone to great lengths to implement every single scenery object
therein, for which he deserves commendation.) When you return to
a room, though, you get just a shortened description. Let me
demonstrate. Here is a description of a room the first time you
enter:
Empty Cell
This cell is empty and immaculate. You are sure that it has not
been used in quite some time. Even the waste bucket seems empty
and clean. The corridor is north.
And here is the same room after you have been there before:
Empty Cell
This cell is empty and immaculate. You are sure that it has not been used in quite some time. The corridor is north.
Let's say you realize that you need a bucket. You remember
having seen one around, but you can't quite remember just where.
Well, there is absolutely no way to know a bucket is in that room
once the first room description scrolls off your screen. Even
typing "LOOK" just shows the "you have already been here" version
again. Compounding this problem is the fact that this is quite a
lengthy game. The Competition version is just the first third of
the full epic that the author plans to release as soon as the Comp is
complete, yet it is already one of the longest games I have played this
year. Imagine in Chapter 7 or 8 of that full version having
to return to an early room to get something or -- even more likely --
having to manipulate some vital piece of equipment. You can't
remember just where it was, and the damn game won't tell you! It's really a terrible problem, one that bit me a couple times just in playing through this preview.
This game is rife with ambition and a unique atmosphere we don't see
too often in IF, and in spite of its many problems it's just good fun.
It was also a very smart move on the author's part to enter just
this preview into the Comp, rather than pissing me off with a huge work
I couldn't possibly finish. I would however suggest to the author
that he hold off on releasing the full version for a few more months to
spell-check and proof-read it (or find someone else to do so), and to
fix that horrible room description problem. After spending
eighteen months working on this, a few more months to get it right won't kill him. If he does that, I will be eager to play the full version.
Score: 6 out of 10.
Lord Bellwater's Secret
This game takes place in London in 1863. You play a groom in the
household of the newly installed Lord Bellwater: newly installed
because his father, whom you served for years, has just passed away and
left the estate to his only son. Or so the son would have the
world believe... all may not be as it seems with the inheritance.
Such things are the least of your problems, though. Your
big concern is with the tragic fate of your sweetheart, the housemaid
Elsie, who tumbled to her death out of a third-floor window just a few
days ago. The entire game takes place in a single night and, for
the most part, a single room, as you explore Lord Bellwater's study for
clues about what prompted Elsie's fall from the window therein.
There are no aliens, no magic, and no evil beings from beyond to
be found in this one, just a good old everyday human mystery, and that
makes for a nice change of pace.
So then, your goals -- and the game itself's ambitions -- are quite
modest. The game plays out over two stages: first, you must
gather evidence to piece together What is Really Going Here; and then,
the inevitable disturbance occurs which alerts the rest of the
household to your presencet, and you must make your escape by, shall we
say, unorthodox methods.
The game makes a great point of tracking and informing you of your
position within the room. For instance, when you examine the desk
after looking at the bookshelves you first see this:
You turn from the bookshelves and walk over to the desk.
I expected this to be relevant to the game at some point, but it never
happened. I still don't really see the point of all this effort,
as I don't know that it really added anything to the vesmilitude of the
piece.
That choice was kind of odd, but another thing really irritated me and
cost the game at least a point from my final score. You see,
there's a window in the room -- obviously, as this is the location from
which Elsie was murdered or committed suicide. Getting through
this window is unfortunately very problematic for you (as I suppose it
was in another sense for Elsie). I tried "enter window," "go
through window," "jump out window," "jump through window," and several
other variations on the concept. When the game stubbornly refused
to understand my intent, and when I couldn't figure out any other way
to progress, I turned to the hints, where I learned I should have been
simpy typing "e." Authors need to do better than that in
2007. I'm not interested in wrestling the parser as well as the
puzzles into submission anymore.
This glitch is odd, because in every other respect everything works so
well. The writing is fine, the setting well-realized and
refreshing, and all other technical aspects perfectly solid.
While the window issue diminished my enjoyment somewhat, I still
had a very nice time with this one solving its few puzzles and its
mystery. I did not find the winning ending is entirely
satisfying, and I tried for a bit to get a better until turning to the
hints and realizing that was the best I could do. But then life,
like this game, isn't perfect; but it can, also like this game, work
out well enough.
Score: 7 out of 10.
Vampyre Cross
Mr. Panks is a man of many moods -- or many personalities. This game is by the Angry Young Panks:
The game no doubt still has
errors, but I don't feel like re-compiling the shit, going back to Star
Commander, re-compiling, etc. Fuck it.
This is undoubtedly a biased review, but I don't feel like re-writing
the same shit I wrote last year again, when this game ran on MS-DOS
instead of a Commodore 64 emulator and was called Fetter's Grim. Fuck it.
Score: 1 out of 10.
Jealousy Duel X
Here we have the second of this year's two oddball Windows entries that
are really not traditional IF at all. This is a Flash-based
effort that presents its simple story using static graphics and text
mixed with a point and click CYOA-style interface. It seems that
your girlfriend has just broken up with you, and you -- enlightened,
mature modern man that you are -- have decided to win her back by
collecting as many female phone numbers as you can to show her how much
other women want you, and
thereby bring her back to your side in a fit of jealousy. Far be
it from me to give dating advice, but it seems like a dodgy plan.
It's obvious that quite a lot of effort went into this. The
graphics are nicely drawn, the text is fine, and the interface is
unique. As a slice of college-age life, there are lots of jokes
to be found
here about the war between the sexes, partying, Internet pornography,
dorm life, etc. I'm not in that demographic anymore, but
certainly
wouldn't object to reminescing and laughing about those days.
Unfortunately, though, I just could not warm up to it at all.
It's yet another of those games that isn't nearly as funny as it
wants to be. The humor is safe college humor by numbers that
we've all seen a million times before. It's come across as a
safer, water-downed, less funny Leisure Suit Larry. (And that's saying something, as I never even found Leisure Suit Larry particularly funny.)
The game design, meanwhile, has some huge problems. The only
possible way to win this one is to fail and restart over and over
again. You see, getting each woman's phone number requires first
learning about her likes and dislikes, but that generally can only be
done by failing with her once or twice. Since there's no save
function here, you have to repeat the entire game again and again,
getting a little further each time. This is the very definition
of Not Fun. I managed to collect four numbers before I just
couldn't go on anymore. Upon delivering them to my ex, she gave a
lukewarm response along the lines of, "that's not very impressive, but
it was sweet [???] of you to try," at which point my character had a
sudden change of heart and / or outbreak of maturity, and decided to
try to win her back on his own terms. That was kind of nice, I
guess, although I think that had I collected more numbers my girl would
have leaped back into my arms and maturing would have been unnecessary
on my part. How's that for a life lesson?
This game isn't aggressively bad, but it just left me bored.
Perhaps others will find it hilarious. I just found it
pointless and tedious and not worth the effort that went into creating
it.
Score: 4 out of 10.
Packrat
Mr. Powell's submission to last year competition was a single game
divided into two parts, based upon a novel by G.K. Chesterton. It
was an impressive effort in some ways, but ultimately undone by a
series of puzzles that were impossible if one hadn't read the lengthy
novel that served as the source. I was happy to see him enter
again this year, this time with an original effort that shouldn't be
subject to similar problems. Imagine my surprise, then, upon
discovering here yet another pile of completely inscrutable puzzles.
I'll be very shocked if anyone manages to get anywhere with this
one without playing straight from the walkthrough.
And that's a shame, because the bad puzzles undue some amusing writing
in service of a clever central conceit. The plot is a variation
on Sleeping Beauty. You are visiting a castle in which all of the
inhabitants have been asleep for many years on a mission to wake the
princess (and presumably the rest of the castle as well if you can find
the time). The wrinkle, though, is that you are the eponymous
pack rat, a hopeless collector of junk and knick-knacks who starts the
game with such things as a collection of doorknobs shoved into his
pack. This serves as a running gag throughout the game, as your
compulsion leads you constantly to involuntarily try to hoist
staircases, loaded chests, and dining room tables in addition to many
more managable items. It's a nice variation on the old
kleptomaniac adventurer routine that dates back at least to Enchanter.
The game isn't a bug-fest, but the implementation is decidedly sketchy,
with many items in the room descriptions left unimplemented and some
items you must interact with -- such as the moat under the castle
drawbridge -- not included in room descriptions, their existence left
for you to infer from context I suppose. Also present are some
real oddities, such as several doors in the southern dining area that
are left undescribed but that show up when you try to go in certain
directions from there. I spent a lot of time fiddling with those
-- or, rather, fighting with a buggy parser to get my disambiguated
meaning across -- to no avail. Combine this with the cruel puzzle
design and you are left with a game that I found virtually impossible
to make progress in.
What this game, like so many others in this competition and others,
really needed was some beta-tasting to shake out the game design.
Many of the puzzles would be clever and satisfying enough if you
were given an extra nudge or two about what you should be doing, and if
the implementation was fleshed out a little better. As it stands,
though, it's hard to recommend this to any but the masochistic.
Score: 3 out of 10.
Ferrous Ring
I've been disappointed with many games this year for their lack of
ambition. This one, though, has the opposite problem. Not
only has its author deployed a whole new interface for IF, she has
also attempted to tell quite a complicated story using same. The
author did indicate in her accompanying notes that she knew herself to
be biting off a lot, so perhaps much of this review will not be a
surprise to her. It doesn't all or even mostly work, but the ends
results are certainly interesting. I'm going to talk about each
facet of the game in turn, beginning with that new interface.
Actually, I should say new interfaces, for there are several ways
to play. First of all, you can play the game like any other work
of IF. If that doesn't float your boat, you can play by simply
typing the names of nouns from the game's text in at the prompt.
The game will then choose what it judges to be the most
appropriate action to take using that noun. This means that all
nouns are supposed to be examined the first time you type them. After
that, the game's choice gets more complicated, but generally the most
obvious action will be performed; takeable objects will be taken,
doors opened, etc. Finally, you can play the game in "menu mode,"
simply clicking on lists of interactable objects which appear in a
separate window to perform the "most obvious action" upon them.
You can also move around the landscape using this window and
combine objects with other objects in classic graphic adventure fashion.
Indeed, the author's overarching goal seems to be to make IF play more
like graphic adventures. I'm not really sure I see a need for
this myself. If you prefer the graphic adventure interface I tend
to feel like maybe you should just, well, play graphic adventures
instead of IF. There's even a thriving freeware scene making
them, and I'm told some of them are quite good if you don't mind
retro-graphics and a strong fixation on creating games like Sierra and
Lucasarts's classics rather than innovating. Using an interface
like this for IF, though, just robs the form of the strong sense of
control and possibility on the part of the player which is one of its
greatest strengths without really adding anything I found hugely
compelling. I guess your opinion on the subject will depend on
whether you feel the parser is a drawback or a strength in IF. I
am firmly in the latter camp; Ms. Ferris -- yes, I know this must be a
pseudonym, but we'll go with it -- seems just as firmly in the former.
In her notes she states what a difficult problem recognizing
natural language is. It is, of course, but it's one that is
solved well enough for the purposes of command entry in IF. Only
poorly designed games ever leave me fighting with the parser these
days, and that's been the case for many years. Nor do I accept
her assertion that learning to interact with the parser is a difficult
task. I think the average person can easily have it down in an
hour, which is trivial compared to the time it takes to learn to work
everything in something like, say, Warcraft 3. I don't think it's the parser that puts people off IF so much as the idea of reading.
Since a major purpose of this game was obviously to demonstrate this
new interface, I nevertheless played through it using menu mode except
for those few occasions when the game seemed willfully determined not
to understand what I was trying to do. It works fairly well, but
there are a fair number of rough spots that mark it as a first attempt.
Although the game claims an item will always be examined the
first time you click on it, it didn't seem to do this quite
consistently. I was often not sure whether clicking on a door
would take me through it or merely look at it, for instance.
Losing the ability to specify explictedly what I wanted to do
also led me to feel less in control and more like an onlooker. (I
have the same complaint with today's breed of "one-click" graphic
adventures, for what it's worth.) The interface for using an item
with another is rather cumbersome, requiring you to cycle past each
item in your inventory until you come to the one you want. It
wasn't horrible in this game, but in a huge puzzlefest with a large
inventory it would be a nightmare. Also, the text of the choices
in the menu window occasionally spills completely off the window.
In a couple of cases I had to click randomly on links that looked
promising due to an inability to see what each actually what each
actually said in full. Finally, the game uses a menu
based system for conversation, but your dialogue choices are not
clickable. Thus youare forced to move back and forth
between mousable menus and menus requiring the good old arrow keys
and enter technique. Needlessly inconsistent.
But what of the game around which all this wrapped? Well, it's a
rather confusing dystopian scenario that didn't quite irritate with its
willful obscurity as much as Wish,
but did come close at times. Your character knows more than you
in this one, which doesn't work terribly well in that you the player
are often not quite sure just what you the character is trying to
accomplish, leading to considerable cognitive dissonance. I had
to use the hints on several occasions to make progress. The
solutions to my conumdrums seemed rather hopelessly obscure to me, but
I'm not going to ding this game as heavily for that sort of thing as I
normally do. I was trying to adapt to this new interface so as to
give it a fair shake, and I may not have been at my best as a player
just because my comfort level with how the interface really worked was
not there. I can say that the story is very railroaded, however,
and that the ending is fairly inscrutable. I never quite had the impression (as with Wish)
that the author was just being pretentious for the sake of it, but I
did find some of the writing rather fussy and precious. Some I
also found almost evocative, however. It's a mixed bag, like
everything here.
Actually, a literary game like this strikes me as a poor fit
for this interface. There are only a few opportunities to make
use of its "object combination" capabilities, for instance, because the
game tends to be more about looking around and talking to people than
actually, well, manipulating objects. The author might have done
better to roll her interface out with a more traditional objects and
puzzles game.
Is the interface worthwhile? I think it might be, although it
needs some more work. I tend to think that a simple menu of verbs
and objects could accomplish things just as well, though, and not run
such a risk of making IF no longer feel like IF. Still,
I'll give it credit as an interesting work in progress, and also
credit the game itself as a well-imagined effort, albeit one that
didn't really excite me that much.
By the way, is there any way to get out of the ABOUT menu without
restarting the whole game? I certainly couldn't find one.
Score: 6 out of 10.
Lost Pig
This is a fine effort. You play an orc named Grunk in search of a
lost pig from the farm at which he works. It's not exactly a
complex plot, but then you don't exactly play a complex character
either.
Grunk is the best element in a game that has plenty of strengths.
He is characterized to the hilt. Not only the main text but
absolutely every standard libray message has been rewritten into
Grunk's pidgeon English, which must represent a considerable amount of
effort. When described, it's the sort of thing that sounds like
it would quickly become annoying, but it never does here. Grunk
is such a charmer, and the whole game is so continually cute and laugh
out loud funny, that it's a delight. This is, in fact, easily the
funniest game I've played this year, with an innocent charm worthy of
its main character.
But the game has plenty of other strengths. Just about everything
you might attempt has been anticipated and provided for. There
are absolutely no parser frustrations here, and sometimes the extent of
the parser's undestanding shocked me. Any game that can
understand REACH IN CRACK WITH POLE has earned itself considerable
respect in my book.
There is also a very impressively implemented NPC. No, I don't
mean the pig, although he's pretty entertaining in himself. I
mean the gnome magician, who has absolutely oodles of things to say
about all sorts of topics. While talking with you, he putters
about in his workshop happily, always doing something interesting and
amusing. Conversation takes place using a simplified version of
the TADS 3 "ask / tell but with suggested topics" system, and it works
really well.
I did get a little bit frustrated toward the end of the game, when I
just could not make any more progress and had to turn to the hints.
I wouldn't say any of the puzzles are blatantly unfair, but I
think another clue or two to the solutions of some wouldn't have been
amiss. And then there was a particularly cruel red herring about
a magic word that kept me distracted from working on the real solution
for a while. I found these difficult puzzles somewhat at odds
with the general tone of the game. How on earth could Grunk, not
the proverbial sharpest knife in the drawer, solve these? I
wonder if it might have been possible to work in more solutions that
made Grunk -- guided by the player -- seemingly blunder into the
solution through luck or strength.
Still, even if the structure of the whole design isn't an unmitigated
success for me, there are many, many pieces that delighted me.
This easily stands as one of the best of the Comp, and I know who
I will be voting for at next year's XYZZY awards for best PC.
Score: 8 out of 10.
Eduard the Seminarist
I really didn't get the premise of this one at all until I did some
research post-playing on Wikipedia. You play a seminarist who has
agreed to meet two of his friends at a gazebo in the middle of the
night to do some poetry reading. The game is all about sneaking
out of your dormitary and getting to the meeting. Only after the
fact did I learn that the conspirators in the game are figures in
German Romantic poetry of the early nineteenth century, and that these
clandestine meetings were previously written about by Hermann Hesse in
a short story. Since I know very little about German literature,
any greater resonance that should lie behind all of these events is
entirely lost on me. I can see, though, that when evaluated
strictly on its merits as a text adventure this game has a lot of problems.
This game was written by a native German speaker whose command of fluid
English seems a bit shaky, but he manages to avoid embarrasing himself
for the most part by keeping all of his text very minimalist, although
the occasional odd word choice pops up, such as the "cupboard" in which
you keep your clothing. But this game's problems go beyond just
the language.
The geography is simply bizarre, for one thing. Your room is on
the ground floor of the dormitory, yet you need a rope to escape
through the window. I infer from contextual clues that your
window must be at least forty above the ground, yet you can walk
right out the front door located on the same floor. Was M.C.
Escher designing German seminaries in the nineteenth century?
The occasional critical object is left completely out of a room
description. For instance, your room contains not only your bed
but also that of your roommate Wilhelm, who until the end of the game
is mentioned exactly once, as the other addressee (along with you) on a
cryptic note. From this you are supposed to infer not only that
Wilhelm is your roommate but that his bed is in the room ready to be
used to solve a crucial puzzle. Nobody is going to solve this one without hints.
It's also full of bugs. For instance, at one point I found myself
suddenly inserted into a barren place called The On the Neckar.
Trying to do anything from here resulted in, "You'll have to get
out of the On the Neckar first." Gee, thanks. Restore time.
The parser is also terribly finicky. THROW ROPE OUT WINDOW
doesn't work; THROW ROPE OUT OF WINDOW does. And did I mention
the knowledge from past lives problems? Well, even those puzzles
that are solvable require saving and restoring once or twice to figure
them out.
I'm a literary kind of guy, and so normally sympathetic to games with a
literary theme. This is just a mess though. Some of it is
probably getting lost in the translation, so to speak, from German to
English language and culture, but that's only the beginning of this
one's problems.
Score: 3 out of 10.
Orevore Courier
This is a very original effort with lots of good ideas. You are
the security officer aboard a three-man orevore courier spaceship.
The orevore is an alien creature that eats rocks, which
makes it rather valuable to mining colonies. (I'm thinking of the
beastie from the old Star Trek
"Devil in the Dark" episode, and I suspect Mr. Rapp was too.)
Basically, your job as security officer is to blow up the ship
should anyone attack it and try to steal the orevore. You are
kept sealed within a single room of the ship; no roaming about for you.
The whole game is thus played through the controls on your
security council, of which the author has thoughtfully provided a
diagram along with a map of the ship as feelies. When a
mysterious asteroid smashes into your ship and turns your pilot into a
brain-eating zombie at the same time as a group of pirates attack, one
course of action is of course to follow orders and blow up the ship and
yourself along with it. A better solution, though, might be to
find a way to defeat your enemies without taking yourself out in the
process.
It's a darn good idea, and very well implemented in some ways.
I'm always happy to see IF that does something completely
different, that doesn't involve wandering around gathering up a
collection of objects. There is a lot to see here, and all of the
actors generally respond believably to your actions as you manipulate
the situation. Your options are, however, very limited. In
addition to observing the various areas of the ship, you can lock and
unlock doors, record and play back scenes, and control the temperature
both in the crew areas of the ship and in the freezer where the
hibernating orevore is kept. By keeping your scope of action so
limited, and doubtless aided by Inform 7's strength, Mr. Rapp was able
to describe just about every possible configuration of the action
as it unfolds.
Really, though, this versmilitude just made me wish the game was more
dynamic. It's actually not as simulational as I first suspected;
instead being at heart an elaborate set-piece puzzle that can only be
solved one way. Worse, it's a very fiddly puzzle that can only be
solved through arbitrarily exact timing. After beating my head
against it for nearly two hours, I turned to the walkthrough and
discovered that I was totally on the right track but had not timed
everything in the perfect way that the game demands. It's a
fairly brutal game in that respect, giving you little information or
feedback to work with. The hopelessly vague hints it provides
didn't really help me much either. I had to use the walkthrough
to get through.
A while ago while watching the movie Panic Room
I mentioned to my girlfriend what a great piece of IF could be made
from that concept. This game very much reminded me of that, but
it just doesn't take its concept far enough for me. I wish it
felt more like a dyanamic evolving story rather than just a big
puzzlebox. But perhaps I'm unfair to criticize it too much for
what it isn't, for there is much that is impressive here. Did I
mention it's well-written, almost bug-free, and takes place in a very
well-imagined setting? Well, all three are true, and the author
even manages to get off a few genuinely funny lines. I was
perhaps just a bit disappointed because the setup left me expecting
even more.
Score: 6 out of 10.
The Immortal
Oh, my. This one really needed to spend some more time in the oven. Where to start?
Well, I guess I can start as usual by talking about the plot. You
once were a hard-boiled private eye, but you have just died
violently, although the reasons for your murder are left, to be kind,
rather sketchy. So now you are in some sort of surreal
extra-dimensional military complex. In the course of exploring
same, you will find that you are a soldier in some sort of
cross-dimensional war between Mother Nature and Death -- not the Death
from A Fine Day for Reaping,
unfortunately, but a female Death (possibly the first such I have ever
seen.) Why? Well, it never really becomes much clearer than
that, although it does become apparant that you should be taking Mother
Nature's side in the battle -- not that I could find a good reason to do
so.
The whole game is littered with sloppy and ungrammatical writing,
reality check blunders, and bugs galore. An example of the first:
I am told on one occasion that I am filled with "anger and rage."
Examples of the second: you cover your mouth and eyes in the
midst of a sandstorm despite the fact that you are wearing a spacesuit;
you spot footprints on the sandy ground even as said sandstorm is
wildly blowing the drifts around; etc., etc. Then there are the
bugs, such as the fact that I was able to score 62 out of 11 points
because the game keeps awarding you points over and over for the same
action. I could go through a whole laundry list here, but suffice
to say that more aspects of this game are broken than actually work.
The author has also managed to break the Inform parser in strange ways.
For instance, at one point you have to give some fish bones to a
certain creature -- don't ask -- in order to get him to give you
something in return. GIVE FISH works; GIVE BONES does not, in
spite of the fact that everywhere else the game happily understands
either as referring to the fish bones. I have this terrible fear
that the author has defined a new Inform 7 action called "giving fish"
or something, and said to "understand 'give fish' as giving fish," and
it breaks my geeky little programmer heart to think about it.
Speaking of parsers, did I mention the guess the verb fun? Yes,
it's everywhere here. Many actions can only be carried out by
using one exact, tricky phrasing, and said phrasing is not always
terrible intuitive. For instance, if you want to crush a gemstone
you should type USE STONE.
I usually try to include some positives in my reviews even of
half-baked games, but there isn't much I can point to here beyond a
certain Ed Wood-ian quality of awfulness that almost makes it kind of
fun at times. I laughed harder at this game than at a few that
were trying to be funny.
But, seriously, if the author is reading: you need to treat your
work with much more care; to think about it and actually, you know,
read what you have written after the fact to make sure it isn't
ridiculous; and then you need to test, test, test, and seek input from
others, and... Anyway, submitting something like this to the
Competition is in the end just a waste of my time and yours. But
you do get one point for making me laugh, so maybe not a total waste...
Score: 2 out of 10.
An Act of Murder
This is one of the most unique and impressive efforts of this year's
Comp. It's a mystery story in which you play a young police
inspector dispatched by his commanding officer to a fresh murder scene.
It seems that a wealthy theatre impresario has just been killed
in his own house. Five guests were staying with him at the time;
one of them must have done the deed. Your job, then, is to
establish the who, why, and how of the case before your commander
returns in a few hours.
One of the most interesting things about the game is its
randomness. You see, when a new game begins one of the five
suspects is randomly determined to be the murderer, and the story and
evidence are adjusted accordingly and, I'm happy to say, quite
seamlessly. Not only does this give the player a strong
motivation for replaying, which is of course unusual in this genre, but
it also indirectly ensures that there are plenty of red herrings lying
about that might be important in another iteration but mean nothing in
yours. For instance, I found a fireplace poker and a couple of
guns in the story I had that were irrelevant to my plot; I suspect that
in one of the other plots these are murder weapons. This helps
keep things from seeming too neat and tidy. What's a classic
murder mystery without red herrings, after all? In a way, though,
the randomness can also hinder replayability, as on restarting there is
no way to ensure you won't get a mystery you have already solved.
I think a better choice might have been to do something like the
old Infocom game Moonmist
did -- simply ask the player to choose a color from a menu, or
something similar. That way I could replay the game five times,
being ensured of a different experience on each.
All of the technical aspects of this one work fine; or rather perhaps I
should say as intended, as I did get rather frustrated with trying to
translate the investigation that was taking place in my mind into
commands that would advance the story. There is a certain amount
of random "guess the topic" action required to get anything useful out
of the various suspects, and conversations, while well-written, never
really felt believable. This is classic IF vending machine
conversation; drop your topic in and hope you get something useful out.
This game might have benefited from using a more advanced
conversation system, such as the framework Eric Eve has created for
Inform 7, to try to bring a bit more life and believability to your
investigation, although I don't think for a moment even that would be a
magic bullet to solve all the conceptual issues involved in doing what
the author is attempting here.
For what it's worth, I also thought one conventional puzzle in the game
-- the one involving the tide table -- was insufficiently clued.
I never would have gotten that one without using the hints.
Actually, I failed utterly to solve the murder my first time
around. My girlfriend finally figured it out on a second
playthrough. I think it might actually work better the second
time around, when you know what you basically have to do and understand
the game's limitations a bit better.
In some ways, then, this is a mixed bag, but the fact is that what this
game is trying to do is damn difficult. Some of the problems it
wrestles with are quite possibly unsolvable with our current level of
IF development technology. I give the author a lot of credit for
attempting something so brave and unusual in lieu of another collection
of object puzzles. The fact is that many of the things that
frustrated me I can't suggest a workable solution for.
The writing is top-notch, and the 1920s or 1930s setting well imagined.
There is nary a typo or bug to be found anywhere. For this
combined with its level of innovation and technical achievement, I'm
happy to place it with the elite games of this year's Comp.
Score: 8 out of 10.
Press [Escape] to Save
Why do the most buggy, amateurish games always seem to be surreal
pieces straining toward some sort of half-assed symbolic importance
that only their authors will ever understand? Yes, this one
stands as a sort of companion piece to The Immortal,
having a similar tone and being riddled with the same collection of
problems. You play a prisoner who has just been condemned to hang
for a crime he (naturally) didn't commit. Luckily, an
otherworldly being -- charmingly described throughout the game as
simply the "person" -- soon comes along to whisk you and your cellmate
away to yet another surreal land to perform a task of Cosmic
Significance. It must be Cosmically Significant, because it seems
utterly incoherent to us in the real world. Something about
stopping up plumbing through which knowledge flows into the world,
because God knows what the world really needs is a lot less education.
How else can we gurantee more games like this? I kind
of wish I could find the pipe through which Surrealistic IF Works of
Deep Meaning flow into the world and stop them up, come to think of it.
Some of the design choices in this one are completely bizarre.
You start in a bare cell in which there is absolutely nothing to
look at or do once you exhaust the few conversation topics available
for use with your cellmate. And then, after bouncing off the
walls for 10 or 20 turns looking for something to, you know, do,
you fall asleep by literally collapsing onto the floor from a standing
position. When you sleep in this game, you enter another room
called Unconsciousness, in which there is -- yes, this is becoming a theme -- absolutely nothing to see or do. Ten or twelve Zs
later, you awake. Perhaps the author is trying to convey the
tedium of prison life? Could it really be more tedious than this
game? You have to enter one command right at the beginning, but
after that can get through the next 50 moves by typing absolutely
nothing but Z with no ill effects.
So then you end up in the extra-dimensional living quarters of
"person," where you get to spend a lot more time waiting around and
trying to manipulate lots and lots of unimplemented scenery Then,
after spending some more time in Unconsciousness, the
game proper really begins. The only non-essential scenery in the
whole complex that the author bothered to implement are the various
bathroom fixtures, which perhaps says something, although I'd rather
not think about quite what.
I gave up pretty soon after beginning my quest proper, when I checked
the walkthrough and found that I was in for quite a lengthy ordeal if I
continued. Too many bugs, typos, Inform library error messages,
grammatical mistakes, and generally putrid writing were threatening to
suck the will to live right out of me. The author says that this
game is an "experiment." Well, I think I can safely declare it a
failed experiment. I never want to discourage anyone from writing
IF, but I will say that much more and better work will be required if
he hopes to ever achieve even an average Comp score.
My favorite line from this literay masterpiece: "This room is the guest
bedroom, the room which guests use." But believe me, there are
many strong contenders.
Score: 2 out of 10.
The Chinese Room
Coming right at the end of my list of games as it did, with the
deadline for voting fast approaching, this monster caused me a certain
amount of stress. (Yes, I know I am supposed to judge after just
two hours, and probably should have just given this a score based on
first impressions and moved on, but I really like to finish those games
that are worth finishing during the Comp.) I'm glad I stuck it
out and got through it, though, in spite of having to rearrange my real
life schedule somewhat to do so. It's a genuinely great game, and
although I can't quite give it a 10 it does just edge out Across the Stars
to qualify as my game of the Comp... assuming the last game, which I'm
just about to play, doesn't turn out to be a mind-blower, of course.
This is another wake up and find yourself in a surrealistic world game,
but this time by two authors who actually know what they are doing and
can write. You are a philosophy student who indulges in some
heavy post-exam day drinking, and wakes up from her stupor in said
magical land. There's a nice wrinkle to the formula, though:
since you are a philosophy student, all of the characters, situations,
and puzzles you encounter are drawn from real philosophers and
their ideas. It's great. I made my way through the game
nodding in smug recoginition with some things -- the bits about
Nietzsche, Marx, and Plato especially -- and spent a fair amount of
time scurrying off to Wikipedia to learn something about those I didn't
understand. (I knew nothing about the Invisible Pink Unicorn, for
instance... and that was worth playing the game in itself.) The
game led me to learn about some things I didn't understand in a
painless and fun way.
I can see many people viewing a game about philosophical theory with a
certain amount of trepidation. Never fear. While it does
illustrate many concepts, the actual puzzles are not horribly taxing at
all. Most rely on conventional -- sometimes absurd, but
conventional -- manipulation of objects, with no elaborate setpieces of
the sort you might expect to see in a game with this theme. This
one is very solvable with a bit of patience and thought. I
finished it without making use of any external sources, although I did
use the game's clever in-world hint system to get vague clues on a few
occasions.
I want to take special note of the writing, which is very, very good.
Two very funny guys wrote this, and clever turns of phrase are
everywhere. I might if pressed complain that there was a bit too
much clever notice taken of the fact that you are in an adventure game
-- i.e., you frequently have the option of saying something like, "let
me guess, another obscure quest for a seemingly useless object to solve
another obscure puzzle somewhere else," -- but I can't say that even
that irritated me at all.
I was quite ready to give this a ten at one point, but as I continued
to play I began to find enough bugs and glitches to make that
impossible to justify. Nothing is really major, but it does start
to add up. There are minor typos that appear on a fairly
consistent basis, and a disconcerting tendency to replace apostrophes
with quotation marks. (I know why that happens, of course, being
a fellow Inform 7 developer, but still can't excuse it.) The sack
that you find to cart things around in doesn't always work quite right;
there's some weird behavior with a few objects in that you are allowed
to drop them but then cannot pick them up or even see them
again; a disambiguation issue or two to work around; etc.
Much as I enjoyed this game, I don't expect it to win the Comp.
It's way, way too long, and many people I suspect will mark it
down harshly for that. Perhaps I should penalize it as well, but
I had such a great time with it, and God knows we don't get enough
games of even medium length these days, and... well, I can't bring
myself to mark it down for its ambition. It's also very
traditional in its basic construction -- another reason some might not
rate it as highly as me -- but it succeeds within its chosen paradigm
brilliantly.
Score: 9 out of 10.
My Name is Jack Mills
And so IF Comp 2007 ends for me with this modest little effort.
You play a private eye who has been summoned by a professor he is
acquanted with to recover an ancient Roman coin. The game
advertises itself as inspired by the pulps, but its setting seemed a
bit odd for this. It seems to be set in contemporary times, not
the 1930s era you might expect. Be that as it may, the adventure
that ensues is entertaining enough, if very short and not at all
challenging.
Around its midway point is a plot branch. Depending on a critical
choice, you will conclude the adventure in one of two completely
different ways. I initially had the impression that the plot
could diverge in many more ways, and was actually a bit disappointed to
learn that it was a matter of a simple binary branch.
In the end, this is the sort of game that just doesn't inspire
long-winded reviews. It does what it does with complete
competence: the writing is fine, with the proper two-fisted feel; there
are no bugs or glitches that I saw, and only a few outright typos; and
it did nothing to frustrate or irritate me. On the other hand, it
did nothing to really excite or inspire me either. It's the sort
of game that will fade from the memory completely about a month after
playing it. Taken as a first-time effort from a new author,
though, it's very encouraging, displaying plenty of writing ability and
a sensible approach to game design. Now it's time to set the old
goals a bit higher next time and use this experience to craft something
with a bit more ambition.
Taken for what it is, though, it's a perfectly fine little game and not a bad way to ring out the Comp.
Score: 7 out of 10.