Don’t read this if you haven’t played (and beaten) Nier: Automata.
No. For real. Don’t. Spoiling Nier: Automata for yourself is as extreme an act of self-harm as spoiling Undertale is. So don’t do it.
We good? Good.
Also: Major thanks to my buddy Ecclesiastes, and my work buddy Guy Whose Name I Forgot To Ask Permission To Share So I Won't Although Honestly Dude People Would Just Assume Your Real Name Was An Internet Handle Anyway Because It's Pretty Weird (But In An Awesome Way). I usually have my sister read my rants before I post them, so that they don't suck, but she is unfamiliar with Nier: Automata, and I don't want to spoil it for her, so in cases like this, I outsource to other educated parties. Thanks, Ecc and work buddy, you guys rock!
Nier: Automata is brilliant. We all know this. It’s brilliant from the beginning, and it only gets more so as it goes along. It’s the latest great work of philosophy, in my opinion, and it says so much about existentialism, social purpose, trust, the fatal flaws within us as individuals and as a species, our obsession with the past, and even just our own mental framework in our approach to video games, that I’ve more or less avoided ranting about it in any substantial way here for the same reason I rarely do so for Planescape: Torment, or Neverwinter Nights 2’s Mask of the Betrayer DLC: because most of what I could say about them has been said before, by more thoughtful intellectuals than myself, and, frankly, the level of higher contemplation and genius behind these works feels a bit out of my range. I have a healthy respect for my own intelligence, but the minds behind some games are intimidating in their scope, and Nier: Automata’s one of those games.
Still, every now and then I’ll have an insight that I haven’t really seen during my internet ramblings, and I feel compelled to share it. And that’s why we’re here today: because although I’ve seen quite a few people go into the many ideas and intents of Nier: Automata, and why they’re brilliant, I haven’t really seen anyone talk in detail about 1 moment in the game that I thought particularly well-crafted: the defeat of arguably the main antagonist of the game, the manipulative machine consciousness that serves as a God analogue in the game, N2.
To me, this scene is a really great moment in the game because it manages, in a single clever moment, to accomplish several functions of storytelling, theme, and philosophy. First of all, as a moment within the story, it is, of course, a rather cool and unexpected way to bring about the end of what is arguably the main antagonist of Nier: Automata: through intelligence rather than strength, by the villain’s own hand rather than the heroine’s. Yes, you could argue that it’s important for an audience’s satisfaction that the protagonist be the one to finish the ultimate baddie of a story, and that’s often true (and failing to do so can result in a catastrophically anticlimactic ending), but at the same time, there are times when more can be said through a villain falling to some force other than the hero, and that, I believe, is the case here--there are deeper aims achieved by having N2 destroy itself, as I’ll soon get into. I’m reminded of Shishio’s epic demise in Rurouni Kenshin: he dies not from an attack from Kenshin, but rather from the fact that he has overexerted himself in his battle against Kenshin, and he perishes in the flames of his own lust for conflict. Shishio represents anarchy and rule of the fittest, and so it means far more that Kenshin, a representative of peace and order, wins the fight not by outright strength, but simply be the fact that Kenshin can endure, and Shishio cannot.
More important than the unexpected coolness of N2’s defeat, story-wise, is the fact that this scene serves to enhance the depth of 1 character, and to reinforce the development. To understand each, we need to first understand 1 of concepts that N2 represents: self-aware intelligence. See, N2 is the overall machine consciousness, right? Basically a mind. And each freaky little girl image that we see it use to interact with, and later attack, A2 is essentially a thought, a feeling, an idea...a single little firing of the N2 mind. With an infinite number of incorporeal thought-selves that can be called on to attack A2, it’s beyond her conventional ability to stop.
However, eventually A2 stops attacking the N2 entities, even as more and more flood into battle to eliminate her, and with enough instances of itself gathered in a single place, N2 becomes more and more conscious, as it devotes more and more of its attention, more and more of its processing power, to the matter at hand. With more and more “thoughts” gathering together to focus on a single task, eventually the inevitable happens: a division between them on what the next step will be. It’s the equivalent, I believe, to a moment of indecision, of second-guessing oneself: having put more and more thought into the matter, part of the mind rethinks its plans, and suddenly can’t decide what the best option is. The N2 instances lose unity and cohesion, and begin to war with each other over their differing opinions, dooming themselves to failure even as their enemy watches them--it’s basically that moment when your indecision costs you both things you were trying to decide between.
With this perspective that N2 represents a mind, its destruction is a great moment for reinforcing what we’ve seen happening to 9S in these last chapters of Nier: Automata: he’s mentally self-destructing. Unable to focus on anything but his own grief at the death of 2B and the rage at the truths he’s been discovering about the world, 9S is coming undone, pursuing nigh-directionless vengeance with no regard for his own wellbeing, even going so far as to infect himself with a logic virus just because doing so will let him keep attacking and destroying everything before him, even if only for mere minutes more. 9S can’t get out of his own head, can’t focus on anything else; he’s letting the turmoil within his mind destroy him as a whole. And what we can see through slow symptoms in 9S, we see mirrored quickly and directly in N2: a mental turmoil that leads it to self-destruct.
What’s even greater, though, is that this doesn’t just reinforce the development of 9S (and, for that matter, the important idea that the androids and the machines are the same). It also is a refreshing and welcome moment enhancing the personality of another character: Pod 042! The reserved personalities of both Pods don’t get to shine very much, but here is a masterful exception. It’s Pod 042, not A2, who realizes the only way to defeat N2 is to let it keep devoting more and more “thoughts” to a single task, let it keep getting more and more consciously intelligent, until it turns on itself. And that probably doesn’t seem all that important--Pod 042 came up with a clever idea to beat an enemy, what’s the big deal?
The big deal is how Pod 042 came up with the idea. How could this simple character, ostensibly the most limited consciousness present in that battle, be the one to come up with an idea so brilliant that the supposedly greater mind of an android couldn’t think of it, and the surely superior mental entity of an entire race’s collective consciousness couldn’t foresee the danger of? The answer’s simple: because Pod 042 is an observer.
This entire game, he’s observed 2B suffer the pain of a conflict of interests, as her devotion to her duty waged war with her sorrow at having to continually kill her friend 9S. He’s observed (through reports from his counterpart, at least) the deterioration of 9S’s mental stability due to being unable to focus on anything but his own loss. He’s observed the self-destruction of the pacifist machine children, who died by their own hands for fear of the pain their attackers would cause them. He’s observed the subsequent end of Pascal, who could not find it within himself to continue living with such sorrow. Over the course of this game, time and time again, we’ve seen the main characters and those they interact with suffering and come partially or even totally undone by the turmoil in their own hearts, as their thoughts and feelings become entrapped by 1 particular memory, emotion, conflict of interests, etc. And all the way along has been Pod 042, observing everything with us. He’s seen over and over what self-aware, conscious beings do to themselves when something weighs too heavily on their mind to escape. And so he knows what beings theoretically far his mental superior do not: that to defeat a powerful mind, all that’s needed is to simply let it think too much about something. Pod 042’s just giving N2 the chance to fall into the same pitfalls that he sees his charges constantly deal with.
And the positives that N2’s death serves for the storytelling are just 1 facet in which this is a great scene! It’s also great in terms of furthering the game’s purpose of examining and commenting on human society as a whole. While Nier: Automata is certainly first and foremost all about existentialism in relation to the individual self, it also has a lot to say about humanity as a group and whole (which is unsurprising; it’s an inevitable extension of any philosophical musing, no matter how individual-oriented, I should think). While N2’s self-destruction is an excellent analogy for our own self-destruction as we mire ourselves too deeply in our inner conflicts, it also serves as a commentary on our self-destructive social behavior, as well. When the two groups of N2 consciousnesses disagree on their next step--a disagreement so trivial that it’s not about differing desires, but about how they should proceed to achieving the same goal--they recklessly and arrogantly attack one another, even while their actual enemy stands right in front of them! A2 outright spells it out for us as she watches in amused awe at the sight of N2’s consciousnesses destroy themselves over nothing: “They’re acting like humans...” So the scene not only shows us how we defeat ourselves on a personal level by letting ourselves fall prey to our own intellect, but it also shows us how we so frequently doom our own efforts as a species by letting trivial squabbles distract us from our real problems.
On that note, it’s also a great reflection of the entire conflict between the androids and the machines--Nier: Automata has gone out of its way to show many times that in all important ways, the androids and the machines are fundamentally the same,* which throws much of their war’s purpose into question, and now we have a display of 2 groups of the exact same being finding a stupid excuse to wipe each other out, even though the only point on which they disagree is ultimately not even all that sizable. It’s a great extension of the idea that NA has been pushing with its war between machine and android all along, that we make war over stupid reasons that waste our time and resources on the wrong target.
Finally, N2’s destruction is a great, philosophical end to the machines’ wish to be human. Throughout the game, the machines have been grappling with the inevitable questions of existence, and their method for doing so has always been to seek to become like the humans who originally owned the Earth. Over and over through the course of Nier: Automata we see, in both the main story and the sidequests, machines imitating human behavior, immersing themselves in human pastimes and passions, and studying human culture, religion, and philosophers, attempting to make sense of their own existence by making sense of humans’ existence. It’s always with this faithful reverence--as though they believe without a doubt that humanity had all the answers, so even when the human behavior has no purpose with machine lifeforms (childcare, sex, pursuit of physical beauty, etc.), or they don’t really understand the significance of what humans did (Eve questioning why he’s being named after a female figure, pointing out that Cain and Abel might make more sense than Adam and Eve, and being rebuffed by Adam simply because that’s not how the humans did it), they still go through the motions, simply trusting that it’s how things must be done. More or less everyone in Nier: Automata is trying to figure out the purpose of their existence, it’s what the game’s about, but by and large, the machines do so by mimicking the ways of beings they believe to have had the answers.
And then, in this scene, the machine consciousness net N2 finally makes the breakthrough, finally advances enough to--again, in A2’s (and thus the game’s) own words--truly act like humans, and it immediately destroys them. They wanted to take up humanity’s mantle, but it was such a poor fit that it only choked them.
It’s a brilliantly tragic end to the machines’ journey.** And it’s also a great philosophical message that the game has for us, one unlike most of its others: find your own answers to your questions. The machines sought the answers to their own self-awareness from outsiders (and worse, a species which, frankly, had not, as a whole, figured out those answers to begin with), attempting to become humans instead of figure out what they themselves are, and the only result that has come of that method is demonstrated by N2: a system failure. In a sense, this scene is a warning label stuck onto the entirety of Nier: Automata, telling us that we should consider what it, and any other work of advice and philosophy, tells us, adopt its ideas and suggestions to the extent that work for ourselves, but not to let it do all the thinking for us, not to just let its answers be our own. Just as NA has reached its own conclusions which it shares with us after examining the works left by the previous great minds it frequently references, it wants only to give you ideas to consider in your own quest for existential truth, not to just give you an answer sheet to copy unquestioningly. Reminds me of Buddhism, a bit--the Buddha is a revered figure who has found enlightenment which you’re encouraged to respect and examine, but just outright emulating him won’t lead to your own enlightenment.
And...that’s all I got for today. There’s probably more bits of narrative, thematic, and philosophical brilliance that the defeat of N2 provides to Nier: Automata, because this game really is just that complex and sharp, but that’s all I’ve come up with in my own musings. And I think I’ve done a decent job! It’s something to think about, at least, and it’s a scene I haven’t seen discussed in too much detail in my (admittedly limited) ramblings across the web.
And now, back to our regular schedule of nitpicking stuff that doesn’t matter, jokes at Fallout 76’s expense, and reviewing DLCs for games over a decade old.
* A fact which, of course, is patently obvious to us, a biological audience to whom all mechanical life forms basically seem the same. But that’s the beauty of Nier: Automata: the fact that the androids and machines acting like there’s some great distinction between themselves seems absurd to us is easily flipped around as a commentary on our own racial conflicts--just as it seems silly to we humans that the androids before us are aghast at the notion that they and the machines are similar beings, so, too, would an android observer of human history find it ludicrous that we humans put such stock in distinctions like skin tone when we’re all the same organism in every significant way.
** Obviously this isn’t literally the end of all the machines at this moment, of course, as there’s more battles ahead for A2 after this point. I mean in the figurative sense--N2 has completed the journey to human-ness that the machines as a whole are all on, and that journey ends in self-destruction, so as long as they each stay on this path, this will be their end.
Sunday, April 28, 2019
Thursday, April 18, 2019
General RPGs' Battle Speed-Up Option
Alright, guys, I’m sick as a dog today (well, as of writing this, at least; by the time it goes up, I hope I’m long since recovered from this demon malady afflicting me), so let’s do a quicky rant. ...What? Yes, I can write those! I have before! I think. Shut up.
So, as I’ve mentioned a great many times over the years, in spite of RPGs being my chosen video game obsession, I actually don’t find these things any fun, generally. The majority of them base their “gameplay,” if such it can even be called, around making selections from a menu, for heaven’s sake. It’s like some programmer was going through the multiple-choice section of his driver’s test and had the brilliant idea of coding the process into the next game he made to see whether anyone would be able to tell the difference between it and actual fun.
But the other reason RPGs are generally boring to play is something I don’t mention nearly as often, despite the fact that it is actually even worse than the overall gameplay methods of the genre: the horrible, tedious repetition. I’ll crack wise about how unengaging it is to turn life-threatening combat into a process indistinguishable from browsing folders on a Windows system, but honestly, the boredom of this set-up would not be nearly as bad if it weren’t for the fact that, in the course of your average RPG, you’re gonna be going through it actual, literal HUNDREDS of times! Frankly, even the few fun RPGs get old after a while just because of how often you’re required to combat something--after a certain point in Fallout 3, 4, and New Vegas, I got so powerful and so utterly bored with doing the same damn thing every time, even in a genuinely good gameplay system, that I would frequently just pass enemies by on my way through their aggro territory, or, in enclosed environments, utterly ignore them and let my companions slowly deal with them while I just did my exploring. And that’s Fallout, a series of actually fun games!* Having to go through the random encounter motions in your standard RPG hundreds of times is tedium beyond description!
That’s why I so greatly appreciate the feature many RPGs in the past decade or so have been adding, the option to accelerate battle animations. The option to speed up combat actions in Etrian Odyssey 2, as well as the auto-battle feature? Love it. The option in most Kemco games to make combat go at 2x or even 4x its usual pace? Possibly the most (and at times, only) positive trait of their products. The option to turn off combat animations in several Fire Emblem games, or use the B button to cancel them in Stella Glow? A godsend.
Because let’s face it: even in a properly story-rich RPG, you’re gonna be spending at least half the game’s span of 20 - 80 hours in combat, and most of those battles are against generic, time-wasting random monsters that you’ve already defeated at least a dozen times before. Friends, our time on Earth is finite, and even if some of us are fool enough to have wasted a portion of it playing Quest 64 or Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, that time is something we should value--and value more than spending dozens of hours confirming menu options so we can kill enemies we’ve already killed several times before in the exact same way. Every RPG that has a battle speed-up option will save you literal hours of your life that you can devote to something more fulfilling than watching a goblin get bonked on the head for the 20th time in a row. I both appreciate it every time a game gives it to me, and sincerely hope to see it saturate the genre even more from here on out.
* Not counting 76, of course. Never counting 76. Just...any time I talk about Fallout games as a whole being good, assume that 76 isn’t in that estimation. In fact, any time I talk about any positive experience or aspect of life, the universe, and the works of humanity, just assume that Fallout 76 is excluded.
So, as I’ve mentioned a great many times over the years, in spite of RPGs being my chosen video game obsession, I actually don’t find these things any fun, generally. The majority of them base their “gameplay,” if such it can even be called, around making selections from a menu, for heaven’s sake. It’s like some programmer was going through the multiple-choice section of his driver’s test and had the brilliant idea of coding the process into the next game he made to see whether anyone would be able to tell the difference between it and actual fun.
But the other reason RPGs are generally boring to play is something I don’t mention nearly as often, despite the fact that it is actually even worse than the overall gameplay methods of the genre: the horrible, tedious repetition. I’ll crack wise about how unengaging it is to turn life-threatening combat into a process indistinguishable from browsing folders on a Windows system, but honestly, the boredom of this set-up would not be nearly as bad if it weren’t for the fact that, in the course of your average RPG, you’re gonna be going through it actual, literal HUNDREDS of times! Frankly, even the few fun RPGs get old after a while just because of how often you’re required to combat something--after a certain point in Fallout 3, 4, and New Vegas, I got so powerful and so utterly bored with doing the same damn thing every time, even in a genuinely good gameplay system, that I would frequently just pass enemies by on my way through their aggro territory, or, in enclosed environments, utterly ignore them and let my companions slowly deal with them while I just did my exploring. And that’s Fallout, a series of actually fun games!* Having to go through the random encounter motions in your standard RPG hundreds of times is tedium beyond description!
That’s why I so greatly appreciate the feature many RPGs in the past decade or so have been adding, the option to accelerate battle animations. The option to speed up combat actions in Etrian Odyssey 2, as well as the auto-battle feature? Love it. The option in most Kemco games to make combat go at 2x or even 4x its usual pace? Possibly the most (and at times, only) positive trait of their products. The option to turn off combat animations in several Fire Emblem games, or use the B button to cancel them in Stella Glow? A godsend.
Because let’s face it: even in a properly story-rich RPG, you’re gonna be spending at least half the game’s span of 20 - 80 hours in combat, and most of those battles are against generic, time-wasting random monsters that you’ve already defeated at least a dozen times before. Friends, our time on Earth is finite, and even if some of us are fool enough to have wasted a portion of it playing Quest 64 or Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days, that time is something we should value--and value more than spending dozens of hours confirming menu options so we can kill enemies we’ve already killed several times before in the exact same way. Every RPG that has a battle speed-up option will save you literal hours of your life that you can devote to something more fulfilling than watching a goblin get bonked on the head for the 20th time in a row. I both appreciate it every time a game gives it to me, and sincerely hope to see it saturate the genre even more from here on out.
* Not counting 76, of course. Never counting 76. Just...any time I talk about Fallout games as a whole being good, assume that 76 isn’t in that estimation. In fact, any time I talk about any positive experience or aspect of life, the universe, and the works of humanity, just assume that Fallout 76 is excluded.
Monday, April 8, 2019
General RPGs' Dying Breath Syndrome
I’ve come across more than a few speech impediments in my time of playing RPGs, no doubt about it. I’ve seen Scias stutter in Breath of Fire 4, and I’ve seen Micky lisp in Makai Kingdom, which are 2 kinds of speech disorders quite common in real life. I’ve also seen some real life speech disorders that are less common, such as Final Fantasy 9’s Garnet, who loses her ability to speak for quite some time as a result of mental trauma and guilt. And, of course, I’ve seen quite a few speech impediments that I’m fairly sure the RPGs just made up for the sake of adding quirks to their cast members, such as Fujin’s only being able to communicate by shouting a single word at a time in Final Fantasy 8, the guards in Embric of Wulfhammer’s Castle speaking in emoticons, Cyan of Final Fantasy 6 speaking in an old-fashioned middle english manner in spite of the fact that nobody else in his country or even the entire world speaks that way so where the hell did he pick that up, and Wild Arms 4’s Jude, who’s unable to speak a single sentence that isn’t incredibly stupid.
Also, I think at least a few of the variations in Chrono Cross’s accent system really count less as manners of speech than as disorders. No one else uncontrollably elongates their vowels with every sentence they speak, Starky. You don’t have an accent, you have a communication problem.
But of all the many speech impediments I’ve seen in RPGs, from the disorders one can observe in the real world to the irrepressible compulsion to add “kupo” to the end of every sentence, by far the most frustrating has to be the one where an important character can’t bring themselves to cough up any important information until the moment they’re gonna die.
Dying Breath Syndrome: my newest term for these rants, which shall be defined as the complete inability to communicate basic, easily-understood facts of the plot until you’re dying and your previous silence has screwed things up beyond repair. Certainly not unique to RPGs, this genre nonetheless seems to be far fonder of the annoying trope than most other storytelling mediums, from what I can glean. It seems I can’t go a whole 3 RPGs in a row before someone important to the game’s story decides that the best time to spill their guts is while they’re literally spilling their guts.
Does it annoy anyone else that an inexplicable lack of ability to express essential yet simple ideas is such a staple of RPG storytelling? Like, how many times have you played an RPG in which the heroes are manipulated into killing the wrong person or helping the wrong cause, and they’re only told the truth of the matter after there’s no going back, even though the entity telling them this could have just told them this important shit before getting stabbed through the heart and saved him/herself a painful death?
It’s always such a clumsily-handled narrative device. Like, let’s use the example of Asdivine 4’s Shadow Deity.* During the first half of Asdivine 4, the heroes are tricked by the Light Deity, who secretly wants to kill all humans and restart the world with better indigenous life forms and so on, normal RPG villain stuff, into thinking that the Shadow Deity is the source of their world’s recent problems. So the heroes bumble along on their quest, defeating the 2 guardians who are basically glorified padlocks on the Shadow Deity’s front door--neither of whom, incidentally, see fit to say anything to the heroes about their mistaken goals save for the most cryptic and vague warnings possible--and eventually meet face to face with the Shadow Deity. Before they begin combat, does the Shadow Deity tell them something like, “Kids, the Light Deity is manipulating you. She wants to destroy the world, and I’m the only thing in her way”? Does he yell, “JUST COOL IT FOR A SECOND YOU IDIOTS, IF I DIE THIS WHOLE WORLD IS GONNA FOLLOW ME”? Does he communicate any information that is direct, clear, and useful?
No, of course he doesn’t! All the Shadow Deity does prior to battle is utter some non-specific warning that this isn’t a good idea. And then, during the entire battle that follows, he keeps mum. Even as he’s slashed and punched and blasted closer and closer to death, the Shadow Deity doesn’t see fit to spend a single turn of combat to just outright say “You’re being tricked and I’m actually the good guy.”
But after it’s too late, after he’s dead-ish and can only speak to the party as a helpless spirit projection thingy? Oh, then this mouthy motherfucker’s got all kinds of useful plot information to share.** He’s more than happy to tell the (so-called) heroes alllll about how the Light Deity’s gonna destroy the world and everyone in it then, after it’s too late to go back. Somehow, dying seems to have enabled the Shadow Deity to clearly lay everything important for the heroes to know out in the open, all the information that would have been most beneficial to know prior to killing him.
And of course, there’s also the equally common scenario in which an NPC had vitally important plot information that they only choose to share with the heroes after someone ELSE fatally wounds them. This case has a better chance of having some logical reason why King Plot Twist IV couldn’t be bothered to reveal all prior to this moment, but there’re still plenty of occurrences of this brand of Dying Breath Syndrome in which there was absolutely no rational reason why the NPC would hold onto all this useful information until after their kidney had been punctured. Hell, considering how often these characters are killed specifically to prevent them from telling the heroes what they need to know,*** a lot of them could’ve saved their own lives by just being forthcoming about what they knew as soon as they had the opportunity to do so.
It doesn’t always have to be plot-essential info, either. Dying Breath Syndrome can also apply to situations of emotional relationships between characters, too. Like scenarios in which someone who seemed like they were Important Character A’s enemy reveals, after the fatal battle, that they in fact always admired Important Character A, or loved them, or were their brother/father/etc, and some inconvenient and usually stupid plot device always prevented them from being able to properly connect with Important Character A, leading inevitably to this battle in which they have now been killed by Important Character A’s own hands. Inevitable, that is, but for the fact that had this dying dimwit bothered to explain all this about 5 minutes ago, Important Character A wouldn’t have felt the need to kill them to begin with!
It’s not even like there aren’t easy ways to achieve the same necessary plot results that make more sense. If you’ve absolutely just gotta have your important NPC only reveal important shit after it’s too late, then you could at least have the heroes launch a sneak attack on them, to prevent their having the chance to reveal that it’s all a misunderstanding until afterwards--same result, but at least it doesn’t seem so idiotic that they waited until the most unnecessarily worst time to spout their exposition. Or maybe have the heroes be given the expectation that they need to cover their ears going into combat to prevent a mind-control or sonic attack or something, so prior to engaging with the important NPC they take a page from Startropics’s Mike’s playbook and stuff some bananas in their ears and can’t hear the NPC shouting to them that they’re being morons. Or maybe--and this one’s a really crazy thought, I know--maybe writers could just try prioritizing a logical narrative of character interactions instead of assigning inflated importance to plot twists that aren’t that creative anyway and cheap, forced emotional drama coming from needless character death.
* When you want to illustrate a clumsy and thoughtless RPG cliche, you just can’t go wrong looking to Kemco for an example.
** In fact, it’s actually kind of amazing how MUCH can be said with one’s dying breath, according to RPGs. I daresay that many of these final speeches would cause a healthy person to get out of breath while trying to expunge all this information at once. Yet apparently having a lung collapse does the exact opposite of what you’d think it would for one’s ability to verbally convey large amounts of information! Really putting the “die” in “verbal diarrhea” there, RPGs.
*** Thinking about it, the villains would have been better served just not killing the important NPC at all, since apparently they would’ve just continued to hold out on the heroes forever otherwise.
Also, I think at least a few of the variations in Chrono Cross’s accent system really count less as manners of speech than as disorders. No one else uncontrollably elongates their vowels with every sentence they speak, Starky. You don’t have an accent, you have a communication problem.
But of all the many speech impediments I’ve seen in RPGs, from the disorders one can observe in the real world to the irrepressible compulsion to add “kupo” to the end of every sentence, by far the most frustrating has to be the one where an important character can’t bring themselves to cough up any important information until the moment they’re gonna die.
Dying Breath Syndrome: my newest term for these rants, which shall be defined as the complete inability to communicate basic, easily-understood facts of the plot until you’re dying and your previous silence has screwed things up beyond repair. Certainly not unique to RPGs, this genre nonetheless seems to be far fonder of the annoying trope than most other storytelling mediums, from what I can glean. It seems I can’t go a whole 3 RPGs in a row before someone important to the game’s story decides that the best time to spill their guts is while they’re literally spilling their guts.
Does it annoy anyone else that an inexplicable lack of ability to express essential yet simple ideas is such a staple of RPG storytelling? Like, how many times have you played an RPG in which the heroes are manipulated into killing the wrong person or helping the wrong cause, and they’re only told the truth of the matter after there’s no going back, even though the entity telling them this could have just told them this important shit before getting stabbed through the heart and saved him/herself a painful death?
It’s always such a clumsily-handled narrative device. Like, let’s use the example of Asdivine 4’s Shadow Deity.* During the first half of Asdivine 4, the heroes are tricked by the Light Deity, who secretly wants to kill all humans and restart the world with better indigenous life forms and so on, normal RPG villain stuff, into thinking that the Shadow Deity is the source of their world’s recent problems. So the heroes bumble along on their quest, defeating the 2 guardians who are basically glorified padlocks on the Shadow Deity’s front door--neither of whom, incidentally, see fit to say anything to the heroes about their mistaken goals save for the most cryptic and vague warnings possible--and eventually meet face to face with the Shadow Deity. Before they begin combat, does the Shadow Deity tell them something like, “Kids, the Light Deity is manipulating you. She wants to destroy the world, and I’m the only thing in her way”? Does he yell, “JUST COOL IT FOR A SECOND YOU IDIOTS, IF I DIE THIS WHOLE WORLD IS GONNA FOLLOW ME”? Does he communicate any information that is direct, clear, and useful?
No, of course he doesn’t! All the Shadow Deity does prior to battle is utter some non-specific warning that this isn’t a good idea. And then, during the entire battle that follows, he keeps mum. Even as he’s slashed and punched and blasted closer and closer to death, the Shadow Deity doesn’t see fit to spend a single turn of combat to just outright say “You’re being tricked and I’m actually the good guy.”
But after it’s too late, after he’s dead-ish and can only speak to the party as a helpless spirit projection thingy? Oh, then this mouthy motherfucker’s got all kinds of useful plot information to share.** He’s more than happy to tell the (so-called) heroes alllll about how the Light Deity’s gonna destroy the world and everyone in it then, after it’s too late to go back. Somehow, dying seems to have enabled the Shadow Deity to clearly lay everything important for the heroes to know out in the open, all the information that would have been most beneficial to know prior to killing him.
And of course, there’s also the equally common scenario in which an NPC had vitally important plot information that they only choose to share with the heroes after someone ELSE fatally wounds them. This case has a better chance of having some logical reason why King Plot Twist IV couldn’t be bothered to reveal all prior to this moment, but there’re still plenty of occurrences of this brand of Dying Breath Syndrome in which there was absolutely no rational reason why the NPC would hold onto all this useful information until after their kidney had been punctured. Hell, considering how often these characters are killed specifically to prevent them from telling the heroes what they need to know,*** a lot of them could’ve saved their own lives by just being forthcoming about what they knew as soon as they had the opportunity to do so.
It doesn’t always have to be plot-essential info, either. Dying Breath Syndrome can also apply to situations of emotional relationships between characters, too. Like scenarios in which someone who seemed like they were Important Character A’s enemy reveals, after the fatal battle, that they in fact always admired Important Character A, or loved them, or were their brother/father/etc, and some inconvenient and usually stupid plot device always prevented them from being able to properly connect with Important Character A, leading inevitably to this battle in which they have now been killed by Important Character A’s own hands. Inevitable, that is, but for the fact that had this dying dimwit bothered to explain all this about 5 minutes ago, Important Character A wouldn’t have felt the need to kill them to begin with!
It’s not even like there aren’t easy ways to achieve the same necessary plot results that make more sense. If you’ve absolutely just gotta have your important NPC only reveal important shit after it’s too late, then you could at least have the heroes launch a sneak attack on them, to prevent their having the chance to reveal that it’s all a misunderstanding until afterwards--same result, but at least it doesn’t seem so idiotic that they waited until the most unnecessarily worst time to spout their exposition. Or maybe have the heroes be given the expectation that they need to cover their ears going into combat to prevent a mind-control or sonic attack or something, so prior to engaging with the important NPC they take a page from Startropics’s Mike’s playbook and stuff some bananas in their ears and can’t hear the NPC shouting to them that they’re being morons. Or maybe--and this one’s a really crazy thought, I know--maybe writers could just try prioritizing a logical narrative of character interactions instead of assigning inflated importance to plot twists that aren’t that creative anyway and cheap, forced emotional drama coming from needless character death.
* When you want to illustrate a clumsy and thoughtless RPG cliche, you just can’t go wrong looking to Kemco for an example.
** In fact, it’s actually kind of amazing how MUCH can be said with one’s dying breath, according to RPGs. I daresay that many of these final speeches would cause a healthy person to get out of breath while trying to expunge all this information at once. Yet apparently having a lung collapse does the exact opposite of what you’d think it would for one’s ability to verbally convey large amounts of information! Really putting the “die” in “verbal diarrhea” there, RPGs.
*** Thinking about it, the villains would have been better served just not killing the important NPC at all, since apparently they would’ve just continued to hold out on the heroes forever otherwise.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
General RPG Theory: Acceptable Sacrifices for the Needs of the Many
WARNING: Significant spoilers for Dragon Age 1, Etrian Odyssey 1, Fallout 3 + 4, Final Fantasy 6 + 10, Grandia 2, Mass Effect 3, Millennium 5, Radiant Historia, Skies of Arcadia Legends, Suikoden 1 + 3, Tales of Berseria, and Wild Arms 3. And also the second Star Trek movie.
Time for yet another of those rants that’s really much more general than just RPGs, but because I’m just thrilled at the way words appear on the screen when I hit the letter buttons, we’re gonna roll with it on this supposedly RPG-specific blog anyway.
Sacrifice. As storytelling tropes go, it’s 1 of the most common you can find, possibly even the most common. The sacrifice of 1 person (or more) for another person (or more) saturates our literature, our television, our movies, our comics...hell, it goes way beyond our fictional media. Some of the most compelling and contested subjects of philosophy revolve around the idea of sacrifice, the act of sacrifice both mixes with and results from several distinctive cultures’ values (it seems to always crop up pretty heavily in the traditions of especially honor-based societies, for example), and many of our most noteworthy institutions and professions revolve around the idea of potential sacrifice (such as soldiers, doctors, and rescue workers). Heck, 1 of the biggest and most famous (and infamous) religions to date is pretty much entirely based around a guy who (according to said religion) sacrificed himself for the sake of the entire human species! So yeah, small wonder that the subject of sacrifice comes up a lot in RPGs, as well; it’d frankly be a bizarre anomaly if it didn’t.
While we somehow never seem to tire of sacrifice as an emotional and/or philosophical draw in our narratives, I have noticed that it seems to most often, in RPGs, exist in 1 of 2 capacities. First, and more commonly, we see the trope of the noble sacrifice, in which 1 character (sometimes more, but it’s usually a single-person deal) gives his or her life to ensure the safety and well-being of others. This can happen in a number of ways, of course, but it most often manifests as either A, the character volunteering to stay behind and fight some impossible foe as others (usually the heroes) flee, in order to guarantee the heroes a safe escape (Gregorio in Skies of Arcadia Legends, Mareg in Grandia 2, Shadow in Final Fantasy 6 and Pahn in Suikoden 1 if you let them die because you need to git gud, etc). Or B, there’s some manner of contrived magical plot bullshit, contrived technological plot bullshit, or contrived circumstantial plot bullshit (or some combination of the above) that demands the death of someone (often someone very specific) to work, upon which the fate of the entire world and story rest (examples: Jeane in Millennium 5, Yun in Suikoden 3, Mordin or Padok in Mass Effect 3...oh, and speaking of ME3, you can also check out the game’s ending if you want to see what this trope looks like when handled with extreme stupidity).
Besides the noble sacrifice, the other most common form of sacrifice in RPGs is found in cases in which a character or organized group is causing substantial and usually fatal harm to others, and justifying these actions with the logic that those being harmed is a case of the few being sacrificed for the good of the many. Examples: Ishmael Ashur in Fallout 3 seeking to create a civilization built on the backs of slaves, the Final Fantasy 10 Yevon religion’s use of Summoners’ lives as a way of delaying Sin for a few years, Etrian Odyssey 1’s M.I.K.E. wishing to use a weapon of mass destruction to destroy a world-threatening monster at the expense of a city’s worth of people, and Tales of Berseria's Artorius...well, just basically everything that guy's about. Also, you can again check out Mass Effect 3’s ending if you want to see this concept when it’s handled with staggering incompetence.
Although not always (Shepard in Mass Effect 2 has to make a decision in the Arrival DLC that sacrifices the (comparatively) few for the many, and several of the sidequests in Bravely Second pose a few-versus-many dilemma to Edea), most of the time, RPGs portray these cases of sacrificing the few for the good of the many as the morally wrong thing to do, and the characters and groups that engage in this practice are villains. I mean, have you seen what an outrageous pack of assholes the Institute from Fallout 4 is?*
And yet, doesn’t this mean there’s a conflict in how RPGs are approaching this concept of sacrificing the few for the many? Why does Dragon Age 1 portray Branka’s methods and plans of sacrificing the few to safeguard the lives and prosperity of the many as morally wrong, when the central figures of the game’s lore, the Grey Wardens, are a group of warriors who each give up her/his future, chance for happiness, and, sooner or later, life, in service to the greater good of humanity (as well as dwarves, elves, and whatever the qunari count as), and are clearly applauded by the game’s narrative for being a noble, morally right organization? Both are cases of sacrificing the needs of the few for the needs of the many. Why is it wrong for Yuna to sacrifice herself in Final Fantasy 10 for the sake of the entire land of Spira, and yet it’s shown as a wonderful and righteous thing when Tidus does so in the very same game? Why do the writers make Heiss’s disgust with the ritual sacrifice that protects Radiant Historia’s world so eloquent and sympathetic when the choice to make that sacrifice at the game’s end is so clearly shown to be a heroic act?
The difference is simple, and I’m sure you’ve figured it out on your own at this point--or perhaps you already knew. It is, simply, in the matter of choice. Gregorio, Mareg, Jeane, Yun, Mordin, Padok, the Grey Wardens, Tidus, Stocke and Heiss, and so many countless other RPG characters, they all chose to give their lives for the good of others, be those others few or many. Each one made an informed, personal choice to die so that others would benefit.
See, this is the place where all these well-meaning but ultimately morally bankrupt RPG bad guys trip up. It is, in fact, the place where people in real life trip up. That the sacrifice being voluntary is what makes it acceptable is a simple truth, yet the lure of just saying the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and stopping at that point is strong enough that a lot of people never take the reasoning that important step further.
Many watch Spock’s death in the second Star Trek movie, and nod as he explains his impeccable Vulcan logic to Kirk--the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Yet an important aspect of this sacrifice is the fact that Spock himself has volunteered to be the few whose needs are sacrificed for the good of the many. When he talks of weighing the many over the few, he isn’t justifying a decision to send someone else to their death in order to save the many. He’s explaining why he has taken the burden on himself. If the reasoning stopped simply at one-versus-many, he would have sent someone else in there to do it, because he has demonstrated countless times that he is an incredible asset to the Federation--it would have been more beneficial to the Federation’s interests to lose a less capable and distinguished officer. If the caveat that the one being sacrificed be a volunteer were not a crucial part of the understanding of this sacrifice, then Spock’s logic would have demanded that he order another to take on this burden. Voluntary choice is an absolute necessity.
Of course, this scenario isn’t really allowed for in the trolley dilemma, the classic question of philosophy which, in spite of its simplicity and its use as an introduction to philosophical conundrums, perpetually confounds our species. The trolley problem, for anyone who isn’t familiar with it (and hasn’t read Humza’s guest rant), is a theoretical situation in which a trolley is out of control and headed for a group of people, and you, in control of a single junction along its path, have the choice of whether to divert it to a track upon which there is only a single person. It’s the classic problem of the needs of the many versus the needs of the few, and it describes a situation in which the decision-maker has no possible input besides a single choice: you’re too far away to do anything other than decide who is to be sacrificed. In such a dire scenario, you truly do have to decide who dies for the sake of others.**
And that sort of situation can, I suppose, exist...but how often does it, really? How often do the details of reality align perfectly to make you the judge of who dies for who, while arranging an insurmountable distance and only enough time to decide rather than change the scenario in some way? Some might say it’s unrealistic, my position that sacrificing a few others to serve the many is always morally wrong and that only self-sacrifice makes it right--I contest that a scenario so perfectly engineered to require an inescapable and unchangeable choice of others to sacrifice is what’s unrealistic.
At the very least, I can say that such an inflexible scenario very rarely exists in RPGs.*** Dwarven civilization is threatened, as it always has been, by the Darkspawn in Dragon Age 1, but it is not so immediate and impossible a threat that there could be absolutely no other solution than Branka’s using the magical forge she seeks to sacrifice people in order to create golem protectors. She’s acting like a far-off event, 1 which we don’t even necessarily know is inevitable, is so immediate that there is not and could never be any other possible way to prevent it--she’d rather take others’ lives into her own hands and use them as fuel for an easy, more obvious solution to a far-off problem than to use the time and resources that the problem’s distance provides her to commit to finding less costly alternative solutions. When the heroes of Etrian Odyssey 1 hear that the weapon of mass destruction meant to stop the Yggdrasil monster will result in such casualties, they reject it, and seek an alternative solution that won’t require any unwilling, uninformed sacrifices, which they do find--you can’t exactly blame M.I.K.E. for his single-mindedness the way you can blame most individuals in the “acceptable losses” camp, I suppose, given that he’s literally programmed not to consider possible alternatives, but the Gungnir superweapon is still clearly the wrong way to go. And it’s shown quite well that the Commonwealth of Fallout 4 can be rebuilt into a strong and forward-moving community of humanity if you side with the Minutemen and Railroad, and make generally moral and positive decisions through the game, without the destination-less pursuit of scientific advancement that the Institute purchases with countless human lives.****
There are almost always alternatives to the scenarios in which someone says the few must be sacrificed for the many--and when sacrifices must be made for the good of others, those giving their lives should only ever do so voluntarily. And, for that matter, that consent must be informed. That’s an important next step to this subject of sacrificing oneself for the good of others, because even just establishing that sacrifices must be voluntary to be morally acceptable isn’t enough--it still leaves open the possibility for others to take advantage, and use cultural pressures and manipulative tricks of psychology to subtly coerce someone into volunteering to give their lives for a cause.
A great example of this comes from Wild Arms 3. Shane, brother to major party member Gallows, gets it in his head that he’s going to perform a sacrifice that will help his brother Gallows protect the world. He explains to Gallows that he loves this world and is happy to give his own life to protect it...but Gallows isn’t having it, and bitch-slaps that nonsense in the face with the cold, steely hand of logic. He points out that Shane hasn’t seen this world he claims to love so much, having lived his whole life in a small village. “The world” is, to Shane, just a pretty concept that he’s convinced himself he likes, without actually experiencing it enough to know a damn thing about it. It’s a solid argument, and I like the fact that Gallows, who has seen the world by this point, doesn’t even try to argue that the world isn’t necessarily worth giving one’s life for--he simply makes the point that Shane can’t possibly be informed enough to know that this is something worth dying for, because it’s just an idea, rather than a concrete thing he has experienced. It’s a great and memorable scene even for a game full of great and memorable moments. And it’s worth noting that Shane has only come up with this idea because of another entity’s manipulating him--again, driving home the point that a sacrifice for the needs of others is not right just with consent, but with informed consent, because others can manipulate an uninformed individual into giving his/her life for something that he/she doesn’t properly understand.*****
The idea that one’s noble sacrifice must be made with informed consent is why Radiant Historia’s Heiss is fully in the right to hate the ritual that his bloodline is expected to partake in, as it expects the sacrificed to give their lives for a world and cause they can only understand conceptually. The idea that a child who has not yet even lived within the world be expected to die in order to save that world is, indeed, terrible. But that’s why Stocke’s willingness at the game’s close to become the sacrifice is acceptable and seen as good: because, as he himself tells Heiss, he’s had a chance to live the kind of life where he’s seen his world, and he’s lived a life in which he’s surrounded himself with friends and family that he cares about and wants to keep safe. Stocke’s voluntary sacrifice is just and moral, because he is doing so with a concrete connection to what and who benefit. And the same is true, if you get the true ending, of Heiss’s decision to replace him, because Heiss now has something he cares about that he knows his sacrifice will protect.
This idea of noble sacrifices requiring informed consent is 1 of the reasons why Tidus’s sacrifice is seen as heroic, while Yuna’s was something to be resisted and fought against, even though both are voluntary: the repeated sacrifice of the Summoners in Spira is performed by men and women who only know part of the story of how such sacrifices came to be needed, and aren’t aware of the ways their noble deaths perpetuate certain evils of their society. Tidus, on the other hand, knows exactly why his death at the game’s end will be necessary, what will come of it, and who will benefit from it--the entire world, yes, but of more concrete importance to him, his friends and the woman he loves. The informed consent thing is why it’s okay for Chris in Suikoden 3 to allow Yun to go through with her own sacrifice: yes, she’s been raised from a young age with the expectation that she will give her life to unseal the True Water Rune, so you could say that she’s been culturally coerced, but Yun is able to see the future, able to see what happens to the world if she doesn’t give her life, so the idea that she’s dying for a better future isn’t just an immaterial concept for her: she has a personal experience and knowledge on the matter. Additionally, she has an emotional connection to Chris, giving Yun a specific person that she cares about to give her life to protect. And the informed consent thing is also why Fallout 4’s Institute would still be in the wrong, even if its victims actually had consented to be killed and/or experimented upon--because with no clear goals, no clear vision of what the world of Mankind Redefined looks like, no concrete steps to take towards its better tomorrow, the things the Institute strives for are nothing more than pretty, empty ideas (in fact, “idea” is overstating it; ideas usually have better definition), even less worth dying for than the world that Shane has no understanding of in Wild Arms 3.
Anyway, that’s about all I have to say today. This rant has (very obviously) been mostly about my getting certain thoughts off my chest on the overall question of the needs of the many versus the needs of the few, so it’s been kind of rambling, but if I were to put a point to it, I’d say that, over the course of their genre, RPGs have shown us pretty effectively that it’s wrong to demand the lives of others just because it serves the needs of the many, that one’s own noble sacrifice is usually the only time in which it’s okay for the math of few vs. many to play out, and that such sacrifices are only acceptable when made by someone who fully understands the situation and what his/her sacrifice will accomplish, and for whom. And I think that’s a good overall opinion that RPGs relate to us, because for all the attractive simplicity of the trolley problem, the fact of the matter is that there really aren’t all that many scenarios in our lives which are as rigid and uncompromising a case of either-or as the trolley problem is. More often, we wrongly apply the idea of the many’s needs outweighing the few’s to situations and policy that allow for enough freedom in time and personal action that alternatives could be pursued and willing sacrifices could take the place of the proposed victimized few. If the cause is just and the need necessary enough, someone will step up to be the one to sacrifice themselves for others...and if no one does, then maybe the cause and necessity should be reevaluated, before choosing others’ fates for them.
* Although I will admit that the Institute are an uncommonly egregious example of this mentality being evil. Most bad guy groups will settle for sacrificing the needs of the few for the needs of the many in just, like, 1 or 2 ways. The Institute, on the other hand, views every single human being not in its employ as expendable and meaningless, AND engages in frequent assassinations, AND kidnaps children from their parents, AND employs what is essentially racial slavery, AND performs experimentation on unwilling human subjects, AND purposefully destabilizes local governments, AND releases the organized, gun-toting, super strong, man-eating giants it’s created into the region, all for the sake of a better future. A better future, incidentally, that they have neither defined, nor laid out any concrete goals to progress towards it, meaning that there’s basically no planned point at which their already over-a-century-long cruelty will have achieved its purpose and stop being necessary. The better tomorrow of the Institute also happens to be the tomorrow I keep mentioning to myself in which I get my life together and stop being such a pathetic RPG weeb: it’s never gonna fucking happen. So yeah, the Institute is an atypical example for being 3 or 4 times more diversely evil than most other “needs of the many outweigh needs of the few” RPG organizations.
“Mankind Redefined”...yeah, unless what the Institute means is that it wants to modify the definition of mankind to prominently include the word “extinct”, I ain’t buying it.
** Although there are other schools of thought on the matter.
*** I will admit that 1 of the scenarios I mentioned earlier DOES mimic the trolley problem closely enough, and realistically, that it is a scenario in which the sacrifice of the few is justifiable and not inherently evil: the Arrival DLC for Mass Effect 2. This miniature adventure creates a scenario in which Shepard has only 1 possible way of resolving the situation and keeping an entire galactic civilization’s worth of lives safe, without the option to be the sacrificial few himself. While we’re on the subject and series, Mass Effect 1’s situation on Virmire where you have to pick which squad member to save and which to leave behind is equally well-constructed: the clock, distance, and enemy opposition truly do make for a situation in which Shepard HAS to make the decision.
**** Ironically (well, sort of), the biggest threat to the Commonwealth’s future by the end of the game, provided that you side with the Minutemen and/or Railroad, the 1 dangerous and hostile faction that you can’t more or less stamp out over the course of the game’s events, is the that which the Institute put there in the first place: the super mutants. Thanks again for the contributions to humanity’s better tomorrow, Institute, you fucking sods.
***** Humza got a first peek at this rant a little ways back, and actually wrote a very thoughtful and compelling response to it, which he shared with me, and which calls a lot of my words here into question. In most of these cases, I think he's simply expecting me to explore certain threads of thought in this rant further than I believe suits my purpose here, but he did bring up the question of how one defines "informed consent" on this issue, since obviously situations vary greatly, and there are plenty of examples of noble self-sacrifices in RPGs in which the one letting him/herself die doesn't actually know for sure that anything good would come of it (Humza brings up my example of Mareg, who can't actually know that his dying to give his friends more time to flee will actually save their lives).
I think the answer to this question of what acceptable informed consent is, is that a sacrifice can only be asked of someone who A, knows as much of the sacrifice's situation, cause, and purpose as possible--as in, as much as is known by anyone about the situation, inasmuch as time allows. They have to know what has caused the need for a sacrifice, why there are no alternatives, and who will benefit from their death (and how). And B, any and everyone who has a hand in asking/convincing this person to give his/her life has to be doing so without any conscious attempt to psychologically, emotionally, or logically mislead: the one sacrificed must be convinced through honest means (or, perhaps, at the very least be fully aware of what attempts to manipulate them are being made). Not every situation can be understood fully in the time it takes to need resolution, and sometimes the sacrifice situation in RPGs have plot-twist elements that no one knew about beforehand, but it's only right that the one doing the dying is, at least, among the most knowledgeable about the situation and what it requires in whatever capacity is feasible, time- and content-wise. And, of course, that knowledge has to have something solid behind it, it can't just be reasonless conjecture that if Person A dies, Persons B and C magically benefit for no adequately proven reason.
Time for yet another of those rants that’s really much more general than just RPGs, but because I’m just thrilled at the way words appear on the screen when I hit the letter buttons, we’re gonna roll with it on this supposedly RPG-specific blog anyway.
Sacrifice. As storytelling tropes go, it’s 1 of the most common you can find, possibly even the most common. The sacrifice of 1 person (or more) for another person (or more) saturates our literature, our television, our movies, our comics...hell, it goes way beyond our fictional media. Some of the most compelling and contested subjects of philosophy revolve around the idea of sacrifice, the act of sacrifice both mixes with and results from several distinctive cultures’ values (it seems to always crop up pretty heavily in the traditions of especially honor-based societies, for example), and many of our most noteworthy institutions and professions revolve around the idea of potential sacrifice (such as soldiers, doctors, and rescue workers). Heck, 1 of the biggest and most famous (and infamous) religions to date is pretty much entirely based around a guy who (according to said religion) sacrificed himself for the sake of the entire human species! So yeah, small wonder that the subject of sacrifice comes up a lot in RPGs, as well; it’d frankly be a bizarre anomaly if it didn’t.
While we somehow never seem to tire of sacrifice as an emotional and/or philosophical draw in our narratives, I have noticed that it seems to most often, in RPGs, exist in 1 of 2 capacities. First, and more commonly, we see the trope of the noble sacrifice, in which 1 character (sometimes more, but it’s usually a single-person deal) gives his or her life to ensure the safety and well-being of others. This can happen in a number of ways, of course, but it most often manifests as either A, the character volunteering to stay behind and fight some impossible foe as others (usually the heroes) flee, in order to guarantee the heroes a safe escape (Gregorio in Skies of Arcadia Legends, Mareg in Grandia 2, Shadow in Final Fantasy 6 and Pahn in Suikoden 1 if you let them die because you need to git gud, etc). Or B, there’s some manner of contrived magical plot bullshit, contrived technological plot bullshit, or contrived circumstantial plot bullshit (or some combination of the above) that demands the death of someone (often someone very specific) to work, upon which the fate of the entire world and story rest (examples: Jeane in Millennium 5, Yun in Suikoden 3, Mordin or Padok in Mass Effect 3...oh, and speaking of ME3, you can also check out the game’s ending if you want to see what this trope looks like when handled with extreme stupidity).
Besides the noble sacrifice, the other most common form of sacrifice in RPGs is found in cases in which a character or organized group is causing substantial and usually fatal harm to others, and justifying these actions with the logic that those being harmed is a case of the few being sacrificed for the good of the many. Examples: Ishmael Ashur in Fallout 3 seeking to create a civilization built on the backs of slaves, the Final Fantasy 10 Yevon religion’s use of Summoners’ lives as a way of delaying Sin for a few years, Etrian Odyssey 1’s M.I.K.E. wishing to use a weapon of mass destruction to destroy a world-threatening monster at the expense of a city’s worth of people, and Tales of Berseria's Artorius...well, just basically everything that guy's about. Also, you can again check out Mass Effect 3’s ending if you want to see this concept when it’s handled with staggering incompetence.
Although not always (Shepard in Mass Effect 2 has to make a decision in the Arrival DLC that sacrifices the (comparatively) few for the many, and several of the sidequests in Bravely Second pose a few-versus-many dilemma to Edea), most of the time, RPGs portray these cases of sacrificing the few for the good of the many as the morally wrong thing to do, and the characters and groups that engage in this practice are villains. I mean, have you seen what an outrageous pack of assholes the Institute from Fallout 4 is?*
And yet, doesn’t this mean there’s a conflict in how RPGs are approaching this concept of sacrificing the few for the many? Why does Dragon Age 1 portray Branka’s methods and plans of sacrificing the few to safeguard the lives and prosperity of the many as morally wrong, when the central figures of the game’s lore, the Grey Wardens, are a group of warriors who each give up her/his future, chance for happiness, and, sooner or later, life, in service to the greater good of humanity (as well as dwarves, elves, and whatever the qunari count as), and are clearly applauded by the game’s narrative for being a noble, morally right organization? Both are cases of sacrificing the needs of the few for the needs of the many. Why is it wrong for Yuna to sacrifice herself in Final Fantasy 10 for the sake of the entire land of Spira, and yet it’s shown as a wonderful and righteous thing when Tidus does so in the very same game? Why do the writers make Heiss’s disgust with the ritual sacrifice that protects Radiant Historia’s world so eloquent and sympathetic when the choice to make that sacrifice at the game’s end is so clearly shown to be a heroic act?
The difference is simple, and I’m sure you’ve figured it out on your own at this point--or perhaps you already knew. It is, simply, in the matter of choice. Gregorio, Mareg, Jeane, Yun, Mordin, Padok, the Grey Wardens, Tidus, Stocke and Heiss, and so many countless other RPG characters, they all chose to give their lives for the good of others, be those others few or many. Each one made an informed, personal choice to die so that others would benefit.
See, this is the place where all these well-meaning but ultimately morally bankrupt RPG bad guys trip up. It is, in fact, the place where people in real life trip up. That the sacrifice being voluntary is what makes it acceptable is a simple truth, yet the lure of just saying the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and stopping at that point is strong enough that a lot of people never take the reasoning that important step further.
Many watch Spock’s death in the second Star Trek movie, and nod as he explains his impeccable Vulcan logic to Kirk--the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Yet an important aspect of this sacrifice is the fact that Spock himself has volunteered to be the few whose needs are sacrificed for the good of the many. When he talks of weighing the many over the few, he isn’t justifying a decision to send someone else to their death in order to save the many. He’s explaining why he has taken the burden on himself. If the reasoning stopped simply at one-versus-many, he would have sent someone else in there to do it, because he has demonstrated countless times that he is an incredible asset to the Federation--it would have been more beneficial to the Federation’s interests to lose a less capable and distinguished officer. If the caveat that the one being sacrificed be a volunteer were not a crucial part of the understanding of this sacrifice, then Spock’s logic would have demanded that he order another to take on this burden. Voluntary choice is an absolute necessity.
Of course, this scenario isn’t really allowed for in the trolley dilemma, the classic question of philosophy which, in spite of its simplicity and its use as an introduction to philosophical conundrums, perpetually confounds our species. The trolley problem, for anyone who isn’t familiar with it (and hasn’t read Humza’s guest rant), is a theoretical situation in which a trolley is out of control and headed for a group of people, and you, in control of a single junction along its path, have the choice of whether to divert it to a track upon which there is only a single person. It’s the classic problem of the needs of the many versus the needs of the few, and it describes a situation in which the decision-maker has no possible input besides a single choice: you’re too far away to do anything other than decide who is to be sacrificed. In such a dire scenario, you truly do have to decide who dies for the sake of others.**
And that sort of situation can, I suppose, exist...but how often does it, really? How often do the details of reality align perfectly to make you the judge of who dies for who, while arranging an insurmountable distance and only enough time to decide rather than change the scenario in some way? Some might say it’s unrealistic, my position that sacrificing a few others to serve the many is always morally wrong and that only self-sacrifice makes it right--I contest that a scenario so perfectly engineered to require an inescapable and unchangeable choice of others to sacrifice is what’s unrealistic.
At the very least, I can say that such an inflexible scenario very rarely exists in RPGs.*** Dwarven civilization is threatened, as it always has been, by the Darkspawn in Dragon Age 1, but it is not so immediate and impossible a threat that there could be absolutely no other solution than Branka’s using the magical forge she seeks to sacrifice people in order to create golem protectors. She’s acting like a far-off event, 1 which we don’t even necessarily know is inevitable, is so immediate that there is not and could never be any other possible way to prevent it--she’d rather take others’ lives into her own hands and use them as fuel for an easy, more obvious solution to a far-off problem than to use the time and resources that the problem’s distance provides her to commit to finding less costly alternative solutions. When the heroes of Etrian Odyssey 1 hear that the weapon of mass destruction meant to stop the Yggdrasil monster will result in such casualties, they reject it, and seek an alternative solution that won’t require any unwilling, uninformed sacrifices, which they do find--you can’t exactly blame M.I.K.E. for his single-mindedness the way you can blame most individuals in the “acceptable losses” camp, I suppose, given that he’s literally programmed not to consider possible alternatives, but the Gungnir superweapon is still clearly the wrong way to go. And it’s shown quite well that the Commonwealth of Fallout 4 can be rebuilt into a strong and forward-moving community of humanity if you side with the Minutemen and Railroad, and make generally moral and positive decisions through the game, without the destination-less pursuit of scientific advancement that the Institute purchases with countless human lives.****
There are almost always alternatives to the scenarios in which someone says the few must be sacrificed for the many--and when sacrifices must be made for the good of others, those giving their lives should only ever do so voluntarily. And, for that matter, that consent must be informed. That’s an important next step to this subject of sacrificing oneself for the good of others, because even just establishing that sacrifices must be voluntary to be morally acceptable isn’t enough--it still leaves open the possibility for others to take advantage, and use cultural pressures and manipulative tricks of psychology to subtly coerce someone into volunteering to give their lives for a cause.
A great example of this comes from Wild Arms 3. Shane, brother to major party member Gallows, gets it in his head that he’s going to perform a sacrifice that will help his brother Gallows protect the world. He explains to Gallows that he loves this world and is happy to give his own life to protect it...but Gallows isn’t having it, and bitch-slaps that nonsense in the face with the cold, steely hand of logic. He points out that Shane hasn’t seen this world he claims to love so much, having lived his whole life in a small village. “The world” is, to Shane, just a pretty concept that he’s convinced himself he likes, without actually experiencing it enough to know a damn thing about it. It’s a solid argument, and I like the fact that Gallows, who has seen the world by this point, doesn’t even try to argue that the world isn’t necessarily worth giving one’s life for--he simply makes the point that Shane can’t possibly be informed enough to know that this is something worth dying for, because it’s just an idea, rather than a concrete thing he has experienced. It’s a great and memorable scene even for a game full of great and memorable moments. And it’s worth noting that Shane has only come up with this idea because of another entity’s manipulating him--again, driving home the point that a sacrifice for the needs of others is not right just with consent, but with informed consent, because others can manipulate an uninformed individual into giving his/her life for something that he/she doesn’t properly understand.*****
The idea that one’s noble sacrifice must be made with informed consent is why Radiant Historia’s Heiss is fully in the right to hate the ritual that his bloodline is expected to partake in, as it expects the sacrificed to give their lives for a world and cause they can only understand conceptually. The idea that a child who has not yet even lived within the world be expected to die in order to save that world is, indeed, terrible. But that’s why Stocke’s willingness at the game’s close to become the sacrifice is acceptable and seen as good: because, as he himself tells Heiss, he’s had a chance to live the kind of life where he’s seen his world, and he’s lived a life in which he’s surrounded himself with friends and family that he cares about and wants to keep safe. Stocke’s voluntary sacrifice is just and moral, because he is doing so with a concrete connection to what and who benefit. And the same is true, if you get the true ending, of Heiss’s decision to replace him, because Heiss now has something he cares about that he knows his sacrifice will protect.
This idea of noble sacrifices requiring informed consent is 1 of the reasons why Tidus’s sacrifice is seen as heroic, while Yuna’s was something to be resisted and fought against, even though both are voluntary: the repeated sacrifice of the Summoners in Spira is performed by men and women who only know part of the story of how such sacrifices came to be needed, and aren’t aware of the ways their noble deaths perpetuate certain evils of their society. Tidus, on the other hand, knows exactly why his death at the game’s end will be necessary, what will come of it, and who will benefit from it--the entire world, yes, but of more concrete importance to him, his friends and the woman he loves. The informed consent thing is why it’s okay for Chris in Suikoden 3 to allow Yun to go through with her own sacrifice: yes, she’s been raised from a young age with the expectation that she will give her life to unseal the True Water Rune, so you could say that she’s been culturally coerced, but Yun is able to see the future, able to see what happens to the world if she doesn’t give her life, so the idea that she’s dying for a better future isn’t just an immaterial concept for her: she has a personal experience and knowledge on the matter. Additionally, she has an emotional connection to Chris, giving Yun a specific person that she cares about to give her life to protect. And the informed consent thing is also why Fallout 4’s Institute would still be in the wrong, even if its victims actually had consented to be killed and/or experimented upon--because with no clear goals, no clear vision of what the world of Mankind Redefined looks like, no concrete steps to take towards its better tomorrow, the things the Institute strives for are nothing more than pretty, empty ideas (in fact, “idea” is overstating it; ideas usually have better definition), even less worth dying for than the world that Shane has no understanding of in Wild Arms 3.
Anyway, that’s about all I have to say today. This rant has (very obviously) been mostly about my getting certain thoughts off my chest on the overall question of the needs of the many versus the needs of the few, so it’s been kind of rambling, but if I were to put a point to it, I’d say that, over the course of their genre, RPGs have shown us pretty effectively that it’s wrong to demand the lives of others just because it serves the needs of the many, that one’s own noble sacrifice is usually the only time in which it’s okay for the math of few vs. many to play out, and that such sacrifices are only acceptable when made by someone who fully understands the situation and what his/her sacrifice will accomplish, and for whom. And I think that’s a good overall opinion that RPGs relate to us, because for all the attractive simplicity of the trolley problem, the fact of the matter is that there really aren’t all that many scenarios in our lives which are as rigid and uncompromising a case of either-or as the trolley problem is. More often, we wrongly apply the idea of the many’s needs outweighing the few’s to situations and policy that allow for enough freedom in time and personal action that alternatives could be pursued and willing sacrifices could take the place of the proposed victimized few. If the cause is just and the need necessary enough, someone will step up to be the one to sacrifice themselves for others...and if no one does, then maybe the cause and necessity should be reevaluated, before choosing others’ fates for them.
* Although I will admit that the Institute are an uncommonly egregious example of this mentality being evil. Most bad guy groups will settle for sacrificing the needs of the few for the needs of the many in just, like, 1 or 2 ways. The Institute, on the other hand, views every single human being not in its employ as expendable and meaningless, AND engages in frequent assassinations, AND kidnaps children from their parents, AND employs what is essentially racial slavery, AND performs experimentation on unwilling human subjects, AND purposefully destabilizes local governments, AND releases the organized, gun-toting, super strong, man-eating giants it’s created into the region, all for the sake of a better future. A better future, incidentally, that they have neither defined, nor laid out any concrete goals to progress towards it, meaning that there’s basically no planned point at which their already over-a-century-long cruelty will have achieved its purpose and stop being necessary. The better tomorrow of the Institute also happens to be the tomorrow I keep mentioning to myself in which I get my life together and stop being such a pathetic RPG weeb: it’s never gonna fucking happen. So yeah, the Institute is an atypical example for being 3 or 4 times more diversely evil than most other “needs of the many outweigh needs of the few” RPG organizations.
“Mankind Redefined”...yeah, unless what the Institute means is that it wants to modify the definition of mankind to prominently include the word “extinct”, I ain’t buying it.
** Although there are other schools of thought on the matter.
*** I will admit that 1 of the scenarios I mentioned earlier DOES mimic the trolley problem closely enough, and realistically, that it is a scenario in which the sacrifice of the few is justifiable and not inherently evil: the Arrival DLC for Mass Effect 2. This miniature adventure creates a scenario in which Shepard has only 1 possible way of resolving the situation and keeping an entire galactic civilization’s worth of lives safe, without the option to be the sacrificial few himself. While we’re on the subject and series, Mass Effect 1’s situation on Virmire where you have to pick which squad member to save and which to leave behind is equally well-constructed: the clock, distance, and enemy opposition truly do make for a situation in which Shepard HAS to make the decision.
**** Ironically (well, sort of), the biggest threat to the Commonwealth’s future by the end of the game, provided that you side with the Minutemen and/or Railroad, the 1 dangerous and hostile faction that you can’t more or less stamp out over the course of the game’s events, is the that which the Institute put there in the first place: the super mutants. Thanks again for the contributions to humanity’s better tomorrow, Institute, you fucking sods.
***** Humza got a first peek at this rant a little ways back, and actually wrote a very thoughtful and compelling response to it, which he shared with me, and which calls a lot of my words here into question. In most of these cases, I think he's simply expecting me to explore certain threads of thought in this rant further than I believe suits my purpose here, but he did bring up the question of how one defines "informed consent" on this issue, since obviously situations vary greatly, and there are plenty of examples of noble self-sacrifices in RPGs in which the one letting him/herself die doesn't actually know for sure that anything good would come of it (Humza brings up my example of Mareg, who can't actually know that his dying to give his friends more time to flee will actually save their lives).
I think the answer to this question of what acceptable informed consent is, is that a sacrifice can only be asked of someone who A, knows as much of the sacrifice's situation, cause, and purpose as possible--as in, as much as is known by anyone about the situation, inasmuch as time allows. They have to know what has caused the need for a sacrifice, why there are no alternatives, and who will benefit from their death (and how). And B, any and everyone who has a hand in asking/convincing this person to give his/her life has to be doing so without any conscious attempt to psychologically, emotionally, or logically mislead: the one sacrificed must be convinced through honest means (or, perhaps, at the very least be fully aware of what attempts to manipulate them are being made). Not every situation can be understood fully in the time it takes to need resolution, and sometimes the sacrifice situation in RPGs have plot-twist elements that no one knew about beforehand, but it's only right that the one doing the dying is, at least, among the most knowledgeable about the situation and what it requires in whatever capacity is feasible, time- and content-wise. And, of course, that knowledge has to have something solid behind it, it can't just be reasonless conjecture that if Person A dies, Persons B and C magically benefit for no adequately proven reason.
Monday, March 18, 2019
General RPG Lists: Best Add-Ons
Add-ons. Sigh. What began as an actually okay idea back in the days when a really popular PC RPG would release 1 or 2 sizable expansions to a well-loved game for a reasonable price, has become in present times a nightmare of consumer abuse as companies release incomplete products with the intention of charging their customers over and over again just to play the game--the one they already bought at the price of $60 or more--in its complete form through downloadable content packages. It’s gotten to the point that some developers don’t even see basic sales as their economic goal, but rather the sales of the DLC packs. Season passes, Day 1 DLC, content that the main game cannot be said to be complete without...game companies pull all kinds of dirty, underhanded shit that would make a used car salesman blush, because they know they can get away with it as long as children with little-to-no consumer discretion have access to their parents’ credit cards. The old days of expansions established a slippery slope, but developers didn’t even try not to fall down it--if anything, they grabbed a pair of skis and went speeding toward the corrupt abyss as fast as they could. Even the Japanese companies eventually got in on it, and if Atlus is anything to go by with Shin Megami Tensei 4 and Radiant Historia, they’ve slapped a pair of rockets on their skis to make up for lost time on their trip down to dignity’s rock bottom.
And yet this lousy state of the industry still isn’t as bad as the whole micro-transaction and lootbox nonsense.
Still, even if the add-on experience has been toxic overall to the industry, there have been quite a few expansions and downloadable content packs that have been enjoyable, positive additions to their games. They may be in the substantial minority, but they’re there, and worthy of praise. And that’s just what we’re gonna give them today, as I list out the 8 best RPG add-ons that I’ve seen so far!
Why 8? Because 10 just gets too long, 5 wasn’t quite enough, and 8 is the best number overall.
8. Mass Effect 2: Lair of the Shadow Broker DLC
Lair of the Shadow Broker is a good way to start out this list, because it’s an example of how you can create an add-on to a game that connects solidly to its cast, lore, and plot, but avoids the easy pitfall of providing content that seems like it should have already been a part of the main game. LotSB creates an engaging, interesting side adventure with a decent story that is especially notable for 2 successes: A, it expands on a substantial, but inescapably tertiary part of the lore of the series (that being the Shadow Broker, who has been mentioned several times as an individual of note in Mass Effect 1 and 2, yet has only been directly involved in between-game events), and B, it more strongly incorporates a major character of the previous game (Liara) who unfortunately didn’t get a chance to have much significance in ME2. Liara’s lack of major importance in Mass Effect 2 wasn’t a flaw, mind you: she’s in the right role, it’s just not as big as the audience would have expected for the most important party member from the first game. So basically, this DLC allows us a better involvement in the side-story that Liara is pursuing, which addresses the audience’s natural expectations of Liara having important involvement with this game, and it expands the Mass Effect universe by focusing on an influential entity within it, doing so in a way that feels connected and relevant to the events of ME2, yet far enough separated that it’s not just providing content that should have been there to start with. That means that Lair of the Shadowbroker essentially is doing everything that a good, ethical add-on should--and it’s doing so with a fun, exciting, and meaningful adventure. Great stuff; I wish most DLCs could so skillfully tread the difficult path of giving more content, without it turning into something that should have been already intrinsic to the game.
7. Neverwinter Nights 1: Hordes of the Underdark Expansion
I admit, I have a bit of a love/hate thing going with Hordes of the Underdark. While the first 2 chapters of this add-on are very boring and seem to be going nowhere, which I hate, I really love the last third of it, which is so epic, creative, and overall awesome that it earns a spot on this list. It also is a worthwhile addition to Neverwinter Nights 1 beyond just its own quality, as Hordes of the Underdark also incorporates a major antagonist of NN1’s main campaign, Aribeth, and far better explores her potential as a character than the primary story did, retroactively improving NN1’s main story by doing so. In a way, HotU (or its concluding chapter, at least) is not just a strong side story, it’s also a way of giving us what we should have gotten from Neverwinter Nights 1 to begin with: a solid, meaningful, and epic story that fully capitalizes on the creativity and grandeur of the Dungeons and Dragons universe.
6. Fallout: New Vegas: Lonesome Road DLC
Lonesome Road is a great, intelligent content pack that seems like it’s the developers’ attempt to give their own thoughts on the major conflict and choices of Fallout: New Vegas’s main plot, providing an interesting and thought-provoking summary and analysis of the game’s events and themes. As such, it acts as a great final, concluding side adventure to the game. But it’s also strong enough to stand on its own--Lonesome Road does an exemplary job of exploring the character of Ulysses, who’s a vaguely-referenced but clearly important background presence in Fallout: New Vegas’s events, and as an unexpected but very welcome bonus, it establishes a character history for the protagonist of the game, too. It thus has merit enough that it’s a solid side story to engage in at almost any time of the game, allowing you to consider the perspectives Ulysses offers on the main game’s conflict while they’re still relevant to the decisions laid before you in the primary plot. Strongly connected to the game proper while staunchly remaining a side story, intelligent and fascinating as it analyzes New Vegas’s lore and the culture of the United States, and providing a new perspective on the character you control, Lonesome Road is pretty damn great.
5. Fallout: New Vegas: Dead Money DLC
A lot of people will no doubt cry heresy at the idea that Dead Money would be superior to Lonesome Road, but I honestly do believe it to be the better of them. Dead Money’s got a well-paced, interesting narrative that perfectly blends Fallout with the excitement of a heist story and a treasure hunt, and it’s a great side story that’s more than divorced enough from the game proper that you don’t feel that it was missing from the main game. Yet it still has characters that tie it to the main game’s background lore well enough that it doesn’t feel spontaneous. But what I really love about this DLC, and what elevates it above Lonesome Road, is that it’s a great, multi-layered story about the concept and folly of greed. Greed as a theme permeates the history you uncover throughout Dead Money, the events you yourself are going through, the characters and conflict of the DLC, and its conclusion and message. But it’s never overbearing, it’s always skillfully subtle, which is another point in its favor--it provides an enjoyable story on its own terms without having to bonk you over the head and scream what it wants you to get from it into your ear. All respect to Lonesome Road, but Ulysses did seem, at times, so blunt that it was almost like the writers were afraid that we the audience might not have picked up on certain aspects of Fallout: New Vegas’s story and wanted to make damn sure we all appreciated their magnificence. And in being a story about the cost of greed, and exploring that idea, Dead Money is tied just as strongly to the main game (what with it being set, physically and thematically, in Las Vegas) in the intellectual sense as Lonesome Road was in the more concrete* sense. High quality, and completely its own side story yet inescapably tied in its motif to the main game, Fallout: New Vegas’s Dead Money DLC is an excellent example of what an add-on should be.
4. The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine Expansion
So far, I’ve focused on the importance of add-ons fulfilling 1 or both of 2 purposes: being a side story whose connections to the main game, while present and important, are distant and unrelated enough that the add-on’s existence does not imply incompleteness in the main game, and/or being a way of providing some form of content that, while not missing from the game per say, nonetheless was expected/hoped for by the audience (Liara having a substantial role in Mass Effect 2, grander use of D+D’s potential in Neverwinter Nights 1, etc). There is, however, another role that a good add-on can have for a game, particularly since add-ons basically always are created after the main game is finished with: that of a send-off, a finale, a last hurrah. Obviously the conclusion of the main game should stand on its own completely and totally, and to require a DLC to create a true ending for the game would be unconscionable--but DLCs and expansions can still accomplish much as epilogues, or conclusions to the series as a whole rather than just to the game.
The Witcher 3’s Blood and Wine expansion is an excellent example of this. Blood and Wine is a solid adventure in its own right, but more than that, it’s a love letter from CD Projekt Red to the trilogy that made them as a game developer, and to the fans of that trilogy. It’s filled with references to the series as a whole, it revels in the characters of the series and the choices the audience has had Geralt make, it explores the Witcher world in a new arena, and it gives us 1 last perspective, both new and yet also familiar, on Geralt, through the eyes of another of his friends from the books whom we have previously only heard briefly referenced. Blood and Wine is a great example of how to make your love for your creations and your appreciation for your audience’s support known at the end of your trilogy, mixing the typical joy of a new, well-crafted adventure with the pleasure of a known, enjoyed history and community, as you create a final goodbye to this beloved series.
3. Borderlands 2: Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep DLC
As a finale to Borderlands 2 (even if it unfortunately did not end up being the last DLC released for the game), the kind of add-on that’s meant as a conclusive goodbye to the game as the developers move onto new projects, Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep is absolutely top tier. It’s funny and engaging in the signature Borderlands way, to the best degree that the series can accomplish. It makes use of nearly the entire major cast of Borderlands 2 to each character’s best strengths. It enjoyably explores the geek culture that a substantial portion of the game’s audience is familiar with/immersed within, while remaining easily accessible and open to more casual gamers. And, most interesting and laudable in my eyes, this DLC creates a concise, understated emotional summary of Borderlands 2’s main plot, which it uses to create a scenario of really touching character growth for 1 of the more memorable NPCs of Borderlands lore. In essence, TTAoDK is the ultimate DLC send-off to a game: it gives you all the new, fun content you could ask of an add-on, functions as an adeptly created story in and of itself, and it reminds you of all that you loved about the main game--and goes a step beyond that, incorporating that recollection dynamically and purposefully into the DLC’s own plot’s narrative, to the end of leaving the player with the perfect farewell from the writers. Much alike to the case of The Witcher 3’s Blood and Wine expansion, playing Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep is like having the game’s developers extend their arm to give you a firm, grateful handshake, as they look you in the eye and say, “Thank you for playing what we made. We’re happy you loved it as much as we did.”
2. Fallout 4: Far Harbor DLC
This is basically just a flawless add-on. I don’t even know what to say about it, honestly. Far Harbor has a tight, thought-provoking story and theme revolving around the concept of the truth: the truth of who you are, the weight and consequences the truth can have, the power the truth can have to destroy yet also to reconcile, what the truth even is, these are all subjects explored with a masterfully soft touch through the adventure and characters of Far Harbor. This evaluation of the concept of truth is excellent on its own, and it strengthens your experience with the main game, too, as it creates new perspectives on the synths of Fallout 4, as well as a fresh, fascinating possibility of the Sole Survivor’s identity that adds a new lens through which to view her/his actions and role in the main story. It also relates well to Fallout 4 in the sense that it explores arguably the most famous part of Maine, which is appropriate as a side story to a game otherwise set in and focused upon Massachusetts, since Maine was originally a part of Massachusetts before being made into a state in its own right. And, of course, it’s great that Far Harbor also further develops Nick Valentine’s history and personality--he wasn’t missing any depth or anything (in fact, I’d argue that Nick is the best, most interesting and developed character in Fallout 4, and in the top 5 for the entire series), but it’s great to see his character added to. This is, frankly, the perfect standard DLC: a flawlessly distant-yet-connected side story of impeccable quality that gives fresh meaning and depth to the game it’s connected to. Fun, thoughtful, and excellent as a whole, I wish all DLCs could be of Far Harbor’s caliber.
1. Neverwinter Nights 2: Mask of the Betrayer Expansion
Yeah...there’s no way this wasn’t gonna be the winner. I mean, I may love Far Harbor and Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep and all, but comparing even their level of excellence to that of Mask of the Betrayer is like comparing a Stradivarius to a kazoo. What is there to say, honestly? Mask of the Betrayer is pure storytelling poetry, some of the finest narrative work committed to video game format. To call it thoughtful, insightful, and superlative is to undersell this master work of intellectual and emotional exploration. If this were its own game, rather than an expansion, it would easily be in the top 10 RPGs I’ve ever played. And hey, while it’s a long, long way away from being 1 of MotB’s best qualities, it’s also worth noting that it’s great in the sole terms of being an add-on, too--it continues Neverwinter Nights 2’s events with a new, far better adventure, and even redeems the main game substantially by retroactively making NN2’s ending less shitty. This is true excellence, folks, 1 of the greatest moments in RPG history. I can’t even say I wish more add-ons were like it, the way I did with Far Harbor--Mask of the Betrayer is the kind of beautiful coming together of genius, creativity, and opportunity that can’t be duplicated.
Honorable Mention: Mass Effect 3: Citadel DLC
The Citadel DLC, like Blood and Wine, and Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep, is a really great farewell to the Mass Effect series and to the players. Its plot isn’t much to look at, admittedly, but that’s not really what it’s about: Citadel is more about 1 last opportunity to spend time with the characters who so elegantly and vividly brought the Mass Effect trilogy to life, to see the best examples of the bonds of their friendship and love that we the audience have come to feel as a part of our own selves. And it’s also about reveling in the lively, engaged audience, as Bioware honors its longtime fanbase by incorporating many nods to the memes and slang they’ve created around discussing the ME series, and addresses several of their lasting concerns with the game (such as allowing us a chance to finally see the entire team working together at once on a mission, allowing players to at long last romance Samara, and giving a few nutters the chance to bed Javik). Citadel is the quintessential farewell DLC, an example of the developer clasping the player by the shoulder as they both look tearfully yet happily at the sunset of the saga.
...But, the fact remains that for all Bioware’s attempts to give the audience what they wanted in this DLC, the company still refused to do that which was wanted most by its patrons, that which was needed most by Mass Effect 3: creating a new, artistically consistent and appropriate ending to the game. So no matter how wonderful it is to have your final Mass Effect moments with the Citadel DLC, you still must do so with the terrible knowledge of an unspeakably horrible end to Shepard’s efforts looming over you the entire time. This is, thankfully, something that can be solved through the wonderful, thank-God-it-exists Mass Effect Happy Ending Mod...but just because some dedicated, true enthusiasts of Mass Effect were able to correct the ending situation, that doesn’t mean that Bioware’s sins are any less. While Citadel’s quality as Bioware’s acknowledgment of and tribute to its fans and its series is considerable, great enough that it should be on this list, the fact is that it was also the final, resounding knell of failure on Bioware’s part to do what should have been done for Mass Effect 3’s integrity. So, the best I really feel comfortable with is giving it the Honorable Mention here, because the only way you can really experience all that Citadel has to offer as a farewell to the series without having to be reminded of the greatest storytelling failure I’ve ever personally seen is by acquiring a separate, unconnected mod that Bioware had nothing to do with.
And that’s that! The greatest RPG add-ons I’ve encountered thus far, laid out in neat order. What did we learn today? Who actually cared to know which DLCs and expansions I think are best? Nothing and no one, that’s what and who! But I did buy myself another 10 days before I need to come up with something else to make a rant on, so...Mission: Success!
* It’s a pun, see, because Lonesome Road was all about roads, and, like, concrete? Yeah, I know, I suck.
And yet this lousy state of the industry still isn’t as bad as the whole micro-transaction and lootbox nonsense.
Still, even if the add-on experience has been toxic overall to the industry, there have been quite a few expansions and downloadable content packs that have been enjoyable, positive additions to their games. They may be in the substantial minority, but they’re there, and worthy of praise. And that’s just what we’re gonna give them today, as I list out the 8 best RPG add-ons that I’ve seen so far!
Why 8? Because 10 just gets too long, 5 wasn’t quite enough, and 8 is the best number overall.
8. Mass Effect 2: Lair of the Shadow Broker DLC
Lair of the Shadow Broker is a good way to start out this list, because it’s an example of how you can create an add-on to a game that connects solidly to its cast, lore, and plot, but avoids the easy pitfall of providing content that seems like it should have already been a part of the main game. LotSB creates an engaging, interesting side adventure with a decent story that is especially notable for 2 successes: A, it expands on a substantial, but inescapably tertiary part of the lore of the series (that being the Shadow Broker, who has been mentioned several times as an individual of note in Mass Effect 1 and 2, yet has only been directly involved in between-game events), and B, it more strongly incorporates a major character of the previous game (Liara) who unfortunately didn’t get a chance to have much significance in ME2. Liara’s lack of major importance in Mass Effect 2 wasn’t a flaw, mind you: she’s in the right role, it’s just not as big as the audience would have expected for the most important party member from the first game. So basically, this DLC allows us a better involvement in the side-story that Liara is pursuing, which addresses the audience’s natural expectations of Liara having important involvement with this game, and it expands the Mass Effect universe by focusing on an influential entity within it, doing so in a way that feels connected and relevant to the events of ME2, yet far enough separated that it’s not just providing content that should have been there to start with. That means that Lair of the Shadowbroker essentially is doing everything that a good, ethical add-on should--and it’s doing so with a fun, exciting, and meaningful adventure. Great stuff; I wish most DLCs could so skillfully tread the difficult path of giving more content, without it turning into something that should have been already intrinsic to the game.
7. Neverwinter Nights 1: Hordes of the Underdark Expansion
I admit, I have a bit of a love/hate thing going with Hordes of the Underdark. While the first 2 chapters of this add-on are very boring and seem to be going nowhere, which I hate, I really love the last third of it, which is so epic, creative, and overall awesome that it earns a spot on this list. It also is a worthwhile addition to Neverwinter Nights 1 beyond just its own quality, as Hordes of the Underdark also incorporates a major antagonist of NN1’s main campaign, Aribeth, and far better explores her potential as a character than the primary story did, retroactively improving NN1’s main story by doing so. In a way, HotU (or its concluding chapter, at least) is not just a strong side story, it’s also a way of giving us what we should have gotten from Neverwinter Nights 1 to begin with: a solid, meaningful, and epic story that fully capitalizes on the creativity and grandeur of the Dungeons and Dragons universe.
6. Fallout: New Vegas: Lonesome Road DLC
Lonesome Road is a great, intelligent content pack that seems like it’s the developers’ attempt to give their own thoughts on the major conflict and choices of Fallout: New Vegas’s main plot, providing an interesting and thought-provoking summary and analysis of the game’s events and themes. As such, it acts as a great final, concluding side adventure to the game. But it’s also strong enough to stand on its own--Lonesome Road does an exemplary job of exploring the character of Ulysses, who’s a vaguely-referenced but clearly important background presence in Fallout: New Vegas’s events, and as an unexpected but very welcome bonus, it establishes a character history for the protagonist of the game, too. It thus has merit enough that it’s a solid side story to engage in at almost any time of the game, allowing you to consider the perspectives Ulysses offers on the main game’s conflict while they’re still relevant to the decisions laid before you in the primary plot. Strongly connected to the game proper while staunchly remaining a side story, intelligent and fascinating as it analyzes New Vegas’s lore and the culture of the United States, and providing a new perspective on the character you control, Lonesome Road is pretty damn great.
5. Fallout: New Vegas: Dead Money DLC
A lot of people will no doubt cry heresy at the idea that Dead Money would be superior to Lonesome Road, but I honestly do believe it to be the better of them. Dead Money’s got a well-paced, interesting narrative that perfectly blends Fallout with the excitement of a heist story and a treasure hunt, and it’s a great side story that’s more than divorced enough from the game proper that you don’t feel that it was missing from the main game. Yet it still has characters that tie it to the main game’s background lore well enough that it doesn’t feel spontaneous. But what I really love about this DLC, and what elevates it above Lonesome Road, is that it’s a great, multi-layered story about the concept and folly of greed. Greed as a theme permeates the history you uncover throughout Dead Money, the events you yourself are going through, the characters and conflict of the DLC, and its conclusion and message. But it’s never overbearing, it’s always skillfully subtle, which is another point in its favor--it provides an enjoyable story on its own terms without having to bonk you over the head and scream what it wants you to get from it into your ear. All respect to Lonesome Road, but Ulysses did seem, at times, so blunt that it was almost like the writers were afraid that we the audience might not have picked up on certain aspects of Fallout: New Vegas’s story and wanted to make damn sure we all appreciated their magnificence. And in being a story about the cost of greed, and exploring that idea, Dead Money is tied just as strongly to the main game (what with it being set, physically and thematically, in Las Vegas) in the intellectual sense as Lonesome Road was in the more concrete* sense. High quality, and completely its own side story yet inescapably tied in its motif to the main game, Fallout: New Vegas’s Dead Money DLC is an excellent example of what an add-on should be.
4. The Witcher 3: Blood and Wine Expansion
So far, I’ve focused on the importance of add-ons fulfilling 1 or both of 2 purposes: being a side story whose connections to the main game, while present and important, are distant and unrelated enough that the add-on’s existence does not imply incompleteness in the main game, and/or being a way of providing some form of content that, while not missing from the game per say, nonetheless was expected/hoped for by the audience (Liara having a substantial role in Mass Effect 2, grander use of D+D’s potential in Neverwinter Nights 1, etc). There is, however, another role that a good add-on can have for a game, particularly since add-ons basically always are created after the main game is finished with: that of a send-off, a finale, a last hurrah. Obviously the conclusion of the main game should stand on its own completely and totally, and to require a DLC to create a true ending for the game would be unconscionable--but DLCs and expansions can still accomplish much as epilogues, or conclusions to the series as a whole rather than just to the game.
The Witcher 3’s Blood and Wine expansion is an excellent example of this. Blood and Wine is a solid adventure in its own right, but more than that, it’s a love letter from CD Projekt Red to the trilogy that made them as a game developer, and to the fans of that trilogy. It’s filled with references to the series as a whole, it revels in the characters of the series and the choices the audience has had Geralt make, it explores the Witcher world in a new arena, and it gives us 1 last perspective, both new and yet also familiar, on Geralt, through the eyes of another of his friends from the books whom we have previously only heard briefly referenced. Blood and Wine is a great example of how to make your love for your creations and your appreciation for your audience’s support known at the end of your trilogy, mixing the typical joy of a new, well-crafted adventure with the pleasure of a known, enjoyed history and community, as you create a final goodbye to this beloved series.
3. Borderlands 2: Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep DLC
As a finale to Borderlands 2 (even if it unfortunately did not end up being the last DLC released for the game), the kind of add-on that’s meant as a conclusive goodbye to the game as the developers move onto new projects, Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep is absolutely top tier. It’s funny and engaging in the signature Borderlands way, to the best degree that the series can accomplish. It makes use of nearly the entire major cast of Borderlands 2 to each character’s best strengths. It enjoyably explores the geek culture that a substantial portion of the game’s audience is familiar with/immersed within, while remaining easily accessible and open to more casual gamers. And, most interesting and laudable in my eyes, this DLC creates a concise, understated emotional summary of Borderlands 2’s main plot, which it uses to create a scenario of really touching character growth for 1 of the more memorable NPCs of Borderlands lore. In essence, TTAoDK is the ultimate DLC send-off to a game: it gives you all the new, fun content you could ask of an add-on, functions as an adeptly created story in and of itself, and it reminds you of all that you loved about the main game--and goes a step beyond that, incorporating that recollection dynamically and purposefully into the DLC’s own plot’s narrative, to the end of leaving the player with the perfect farewell from the writers. Much alike to the case of The Witcher 3’s Blood and Wine expansion, playing Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep is like having the game’s developers extend their arm to give you a firm, grateful handshake, as they look you in the eye and say, “Thank you for playing what we made. We’re happy you loved it as much as we did.”
2. Fallout 4: Far Harbor DLC
This is basically just a flawless add-on. I don’t even know what to say about it, honestly. Far Harbor has a tight, thought-provoking story and theme revolving around the concept of the truth: the truth of who you are, the weight and consequences the truth can have, the power the truth can have to destroy yet also to reconcile, what the truth even is, these are all subjects explored with a masterfully soft touch through the adventure and characters of Far Harbor. This evaluation of the concept of truth is excellent on its own, and it strengthens your experience with the main game, too, as it creates new perspectives on the synths of Fallout 4, as well as a fresh, fascinating possibility of the Sole Survivor’s identity that adds a new lens through which to view her/his actions and role in the main story. It also relates well to Fallout 4 in the sense that it explores arguably the most famous part of Maine, which is appropriate as a side story to a game otherwise set in and focused upon Massachusetts, since Maine was originally a part of Massachusetts before being made into a state in its own right. And, of course, it’s great that Far Harbor also further develops Nick Valentine’s history and personality--he wasn’t missing any depth or anything (in fact, I’d argue that Nick is the best, most interesting and developed character in Fallout 4, and in the top 5 for the entire series), but it’s great to see his character added to. This is, frankly, the perfect standard DLC: a flawlessly distant-yet-connected side story of impeccable quality that gives fresh meaning and depth to the game it’s connected to. Fun, thoughtful, and excellent as a whole, I wish all DLCs could be of Far Harbor’s caliber.
1. Neverwinter Nights 2: Mask of the Betrayer Expansion
Yeah...there’s no way this wasn’t gonna be the winner. I mean, I may love Far Harbor and Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep and all, but comparing even their level of excellence to that of Mask of the Betrayer is like comparing a Stradivarius to a kazoo. What is there to say, honestly? Mask of the Betrayer is pure storytelling poetry, some of the finest narrative work committed to video game format. To call it thoughtful, insightful, and superlative is to undersell this master work of intellectual and emotional exploration. If this were its own game, rather than an expansion, it would easily be in the top 10 RPGs I’ve ever played. And hey, while it’s a long, long way away from being 1 of MotB’s best qualities, it’s also worth noting that it’s great in the sole terms of being an add-on, too--it continues Neverwinter Nights 2’s events with a new, far better adventure, and even redeems the main game substantially by retroactively making NN2’s ending less shitty. This is true excellence, folks, 1 of the greatest moments in RPG history. I can’t even say I wish more add-ons were like it, the way I did with Far Harbor--Mask of the Betrayer is the kind of beautiful coming together of genius, creativity, and opportunity that can’t be duplicated.
Honorable Mention: Mass Effect 3: Citadel DLC
The Citadel DLC, like Blood and Wine, and Tiny Tina’s Assault on Dragon Keep, is a really great farewell to the Mass Effect series and to the players. Its plot isn’t much to look at, admittedly, but that’s not really what it’s about: Citadel is more about 1 last opportunity to spend time with the characters who so elegantly and vividly brought the Mass Effect trilogy to life, to see the best examples of the bonds of their friendship and love that we the audience have come to feel as a part of our own selves. And it’s also about reveling in the lively, engaged audience, as Bioware honors its longtime fanbase by incorporating many nods to the memes and slang they’ve created around discussing the ME series, and addresses several of their lasting concerns with the game (such as allowing us a chance to finally see the entire team working together at once on a mission, allowing players to at long last romance Samara, and giving a few nutters the chance to bed Javik). Citadel is the quintessential farewell DLC, an example of the developer clasping the player by the shoulder as they both look tearfully yet happily at the sunset of the saga.
...But, the fact remains that for all Bioware’s attempts to give the audience what they wanted in this DLC, the company still refused to do that which was wanted most by its patrons, that which was needed most by Mass Effect 3: creating a new, artistically consistent and appropriate ending to the game. So no matter how wonderful it is to have your final Mass Effect moments with the Citadel DLC, you still must do so with the terrible knowledge of an unspeakably horrible end to Shepard’s efforts looming over you the entire time. This is, thankfully, something that can be solved through the wonderful, thank-God-it-exists Mass Effect Happy Ending Mod...but just because some dedicated, true enthusiasts of Mass Effect were able to correct the ending situation, that doesn’t mean that Bioware’s sins are any less. While Citadel’s quality as Bioware’s acknowledgment of and tribute to its fans and its series is considerable, great enough that it should be on this list, the fact is that it was also the final, resounding knell of failure on Bioware’s part to do what should have been done for Mass Effect 3’s integrity. So, the best I really feel comfortable with is giving it the Honorable Mention here, because the only way you can really experience all that Citadel has to offer as a farewell to the series without having to be reminded of the greatest storytelling failure I’ve ever personally seen is by acquiring a separate, unconnected mod that Bioware had nothing to do with.
And that’s that! The greatest RPG add-ons I’ve encountered thus far, laid out in neat order. What did we learn today? Who actually cared to know which DLCs and expansions I think are best? Nothing and no one, that’s what and who! But I did buy myself another 10 days before I need to come up with something else to make a rant on, so...Mission: Success!
* It’s a pun, see, because Lonesome Road was all about roads, and, like, concrete? Yeah, I know, I suck.
Friday, March 8, 2019
Conception 2's Star Children
You know what? The whole Star Children situation in Conception 2 is messed up.
You may recall that I am not a great fan of Conception 2. Or maybe you don’t recall that, because you didn’t read that rant, because you are among God’s Favored Children, AKA, Human Beings Who Have Not Played Conception 2. If that be the case, please, feel free to take a hard pass on this rant, too. Because even my describing 1 of the problems with Conception 2 is still too dangerously close to the act of experiencing Conception 2 for comfort. But for the damned like myself, you may remember that I am not a great fan of Conception 2, notably (but definitely not limited to) its villain. But even with the understanding that there wasn’t much I liked about this listless dating sim wannabe, even with the understanding that my overall opinion on Conception 2 is that it really ought to be on any and every time traveler’s bucket list of catastrophes to prevent, Star Children are a pretty disturbing mess.
I mean, to start with, just the concept of them is creepy. They’re children magically conceived by the main character and the girls he partners with in his world-saving duties, children whose births are not just encouraged, but mandated by his world-saving organization. Given that both the protagonist and his partners are all highschoolers, it’s more than a little uncomfortable that this is an unavoidable aspect of gameplay. And yeah, yeah, I know, it’s not actually underage sex, there’s no actual teen pregnancy, and all that jazz. It’s all done through nebulous, plot-convenient magical essence-mixing mumbo-jumbo. Conception 2 just wanted to plagiarize Shin Megami Tensei: Persona’s way of pushing the envelope, and chose to go with metaphorical teen parenthood instead of metaphorical teen suicide. Well, Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 has got enough superb qualities and thoughtful use of its allegories and imagery that I can at least tolerate (albeit never become quite comfortable with) its disturbing obsession with people putting guns to their head and pulling the trigger. Conception 2, on the other hand, does not have enough going on in the intellectual department to earn the same forgiveness: its imagery of teenage procreation isn’t serving as a metaphor for anything other than the exact creepy stuff it so transparently looks like, as the game is, ultimately, a subpar dating sim that can’t even be honest with itself about its nature.
But all of that is messed up on a meta level. It is (or at least should be) disquieting to us, the audience, but in the context of the game’s own world and lore, it’s not as obviously freaky. Once we start thinking about the Star Children beyond their vaguely disturbing origins, however, that’s when things are seriously and clearly fucked up even within the context of Conception 2’s own setting.
Because if you really think about it, this whole Star Child system basically entails bringing self-aware life capable of emotions and reason* into the world solely for the purpose of immediately forcing this brand new life form into life-threatening combat against monsters of tremendous destructive power. These children, as capable of love and kindness as any man or woman, as capable of feeling pain and fear as any human, are born into this world, and immediately thrust into warfare. Children born solely for the purpose of killing and dying at the whims of their parents. No choice of whether or not they want to take up a sword on the very day of their birth. Now how can anyone, player or in-game character, possibly look at this situation and not realize how messed up that is?
And it doesn’t stop there. A Star Child may be lucky to survive long enough to become obsolete in combat, but he or she won’t be fortunate enough to actually have earned a happy life. Nope! After a Star Child is released from their enslavement as a newborn forced to endure the horrors of constant life-and-death combat, their retirement plan is to be forced to go into the city and perform menial labor from then on. You’d think maybe these poor things might have earned an actual rest by that point, but apparently having to cut their own umbilical cord with the blades of war isn’t enough: their reward is to go from being warrior slaves to just regular slaves. Their ever-growing workforce population benefits the city and raises its ability to research and produce greater technologies for its long war against the encroaching monster nests, but I’ll be damned if there’s even the slightest indication that this earns the kids even a basic level of human respect from the overlords who benefit from their slave labor.
You send them out into the city to labor and raise its level of proficiency, exiling these children from their parents who, for some unfathomable reason, the kids express an inexhaustible love and respect for, their only interaction with Mommy and Daddy from this point on to be the regular money that the Star Children send. Yeah--they pay you for having banished them to fend for themselves as unloved manual labor within the city. Thinking and feeling beings born to be cannon fodder, thrust into the nightmare of constant combat from the day they’re born, regarded by the parents they love as nothing more than mindless automatons of war, destined at very best to indentured servants of menial labor to the state who relinquish their earnings to the very heartless monsters who bore them and then discarded them. That’s the lot of Conception 2’s Star Children.
And people say Pokemon is fucked up.
* Not that I think anyone would, but it is definitely beyond debate that the Star Children are as intelligent and capable of feelings as any human being is. They react and they reason, they speak to express ideas, to question, and to make their feelings and affections known, and they’re capable of filling roles both in combat and in normal social situations that require the capacity for rational thought that humans possess. The only limit upon their mental and emotional faculties is that they seem to perpetually maintain a child’s sensibilities and attitude, never ‘growing up,’ so to speak. Which, frankly, just makes the situation that much more distressing.
You may recall that I am not a great fan of Conception 2. Or maybe you don’t recall that, because you didn’t read that rant, because you are among God’s Favored Children, AKA, Human Beings Who Have Not Played Conception 2. If that be the case, please, feel free to take a hard pass on this rant, too. Because even my describing 1 of the problems with Conception 2 is still too dangerously close to the act of experiencing Conception 2 for comfort. But for the damned like myself, you may remember that I am not a great fan of Conception 2, notably (but definitely not limited to) its villain. But even with the understanding that there wasn’t much I liked about this listless dating sim wannabe, even with the understanding that my overall opinion on Conception 2 is that it really ought to be on any and every time traveler’s bucket list of catastrophes to prevent, Star Children are a pretty disturbing mess.
I mean, to start with, just the concept of them is creepy. They’re children magically conceived by the main character and the girls he partners with in his world-saving duties, children whose births are not just encouraged, but mandated by his world-saving organization. Given that both the protagonist and his partners are all highschoolers, it’s more than a little uncomfortable that this is an unavoidable aspect of gameplay. And yeah, yeah, I know, it’s not actually underage sex, there’s no actual teen pregnancy, and all that jazz. It’s all done through nebulous, plot-convenient magical essence-mixing mumbo-jumbo. Conception 2 just wanted to plagiarize Shin Megami Tensei: Persona’s way of pushing the envelope, and chose to go with metaphorical teen parenthood instead of metaphorical teen suicide. Well, Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 has got enough superb qualities and thoughtful use of its allegories and imagery that I can at least tolerate (albeit never become quite comfortable with) its disturbing obsession with people putting guns to their head and pulling the trigger. Conception 2, on the other hand, does not have enough going on in the intellectual department to earn the same forgiveness: its imagery of teenage procreation isn’t serving as a metaphor for anything other than the exact creepy stuff it so transparently looks like, as the game is, ultimately, a subpar dating sim that can’t even be honest with itself about its nature.
But all of that is messed up on a meta level. It is (or at least should be) disquieting to us, the audience, but in the context of the game’s own world and lore, it’s not as obviously freaky. Once we start thinking about the Star Children beyond their vaguely disturbing origins, however, that’s when things are seriously and clearly fucked up even within the context of Conception 2’s own setting.
Because if you really think about it, this whole Star Child system basically entails bringing self-aware life capable of emotions and reason* into the world solely for the purpose of immediately forcing this brand new life form into life-threatening combat against monsters of tremendous destructive power. These children, as capable of love and kindness as any man or woman, as capable of feeling pain and fear as any human, are born into this world, and immediately thrust into warfare. Children born solely for the purpose of killing and dying at the whims of their parents. No choice of whether or not they want to take up a sword on the very day of their birth. Now how can anyone, player or in-game character, possibly look at this situation and not realize how messed up that is?
And it doesn’t stop there. A Star Child may be lucky to survive long enough to become obsolete in combat, but he or she won’t be fortunate enough to actually have earned a happy life. Nope! After a Star Child is released from their enslavement as a newborn forced to endure the horrors of constant life-and-death combat, their retirement plan is to be forced to go into the city and perform menial labor from then on. You’d think maybe these poor things might have earned an actual rest by that point, but apparently having to cut their own umbilical cord with the blades of war isn’t enough: their reward is to go from being warrior slaves to just regular slaves. Their ever-growing workforce population benefits the city and raises its ability to research and produce greater technologies for its long war against the encroaching monster nests, but I’ll be damned if there’s even the slightest indication that this earns the kids even a basic level of human respect from the overlords who benefit from their slave labor.
You send them out into the city to labor and raise its level of proficiency, exiling these children from their parents who, for some unfathomable reason, the kids express an inexhaustible love and respect for, their only interaction with Mommy and Daddy from this point on to be the regular money that the Star Children send. Yeah--they pay you for having banished them to fend for themselves as unloved manual labor within the city. Thinking and feeling beings born to be cannon fodder, thrust into the nightmare of constant combat from the day they’re born, regarded by the parents they love as nothing more than mindless automatons of war, destined at very best to indentured servants of menial labor to the state who relinquish their earnings to the very heartless monsters who bore them and then discarded them. That’s the lot of Conception 2’s Star Children.
And people say Pokemon is fucked up.
* Not that I think anyone would, but it is definitely beyond debate that the Star Children are as intelligent and capable of feelings as any human being is. They react and they reason, they speak to express ideas, to question, and to make their feelings and affections known, and they’re capable of filling roles both in combat and in normal social situations that require the capacity for rational thought that humans possess. The only limit upon their mental and emotional faculties is that they seem to perpetually maintain a child’s sensibilities and attitude, never ‘growing up,’ so to speak. Which, frankly, just makes the situation that much more distressing.
Thursday, February 28, 2019
General RPGs' AMVs 16
Well, it’s a new year, so that means it’s been long enough since the last AMV rant to post another. Check out the great RPG music videos I’ve found since last time, and leave a like or even a positive comment on them if you agree that they’re pretty cool. This little corner of fandom seems to be a dying art, so the more encouragement can be given to those who still engage in it, the better.
BORDERLANDS
Borderlands 2: Paper Planes, by UFets
The music used is Paper Planes, by M.I.A. It’s kind of hard to imagine there ever being a better AMV for the Borderlands series than this one. Simply put, this is a masterful coming together of the perfect song for the perfect game. Paper Planes’s unsettling whimsy and energy is an absolutely flawless companion to the Borderlands series’s style, and UFets takes full advantage of that fact, creating a fun, active AMV that manages to be a tribute to the game, and yet also kind of just a likable engaging mess of noise and violence--which essentially makes it even more of a tribute to Borderlands 2. By far my favorite aspect of this AMV is that it replaces the various sound effects of the original Paper Planes (notably the gunshots), and replaces them with various sound effects from Borderlands 2. It’s a fun and creative quirk, and it makes this all the more great a tribute to the fun and madness that is signature to Borderlands 2. This one’s definitely the best AMV of today’s bunch.
FALLOUT
Fallout 4: Happiness, by Pandamic
The music used is Final Frontier, by Thomas Bergersen. This is a tribute AMV for the first half of Fallout 4’s main story, showing us the story of the Sole Survivor’s search for Shaun. It’s extremely well done, giving us a neat, tidy narrative of voice-overs and visuals that leads us along, but doesn’t over-explain, the protagonist’s journey to find her/his son, and effectively underscores the major ideas and themes of Fallout 4’s first half, most notably that of loss--of family, of purpose, of a life and world, of happiness, and of control. This is 1 of those videos that uses its short time well to crystallize the higher ideas of a game’s narrative, making clear the greatness of the game’s writing in a condensed way that might be too diluted over the long period of the actual gameplay for some players to have really come to appreciate. And while the music does not interact much with the visuals, it’s still a skillful AMV (or cousin to an AMV, however you count a tribute video) in that the music is well-chosen to convey the epic nature of Fallout 4’s story. This is a great offering that every Fallout 4 player should see, in my opinion.
FINAL FANTASY
Final Fantasy Series: Monsters, by YuniX2
The music used is Monsters, by Matchbook Romance. YuniX2 never fails to please, even when making a crossover AMV which incorporates a few clips from that horrific trash Final Fantasy 10-2. While this video is, by the creator’s own admission, not up to her usual standards, it’s still a damned solid, well-compiled music video that coordinates the tune and atmosphere of the music skillfully to the visuals of Final Fantasy 7, 8, 9, 10, and 10-2, and it serves as a good tribute to the villains of the FF series. Fine work once more from this AMV artist.
FIRE EMBLEM
Fire Emblem 14: Novacaine, by Phoenix of Nohr
The music used is Novacaine, by Fallout Boy. Although this video doesn’t really connect to the lyrics of the song in any particular way, this is nonetheless a well-made AMV for its ability to work Fire Emblem 14’s visuals to the pace and tune of the song, creating a fast, energized music video that catches you up with it from start to finish. It’s simple but strong AMV all-around.
KINGDOM HEARTS
Kingdom Hearts Series: A Ballad From a Dream, by Retro Raider
The music used is A Ballad From a Dream, by Retro Raider. Yeah, this is quite an interesting little AMV specimen, in that its creator is also the composer of the music within it! Apparently, Retro Raider created the music with the Kingdom Hearts series in mind, as a musical tribute/representation of it, much in the same way as Miracle of Sound has made dozens of original songs in tribute of various video games and movies, and bronies have composed hundreds of original songs based on characters, scenes, and ideas for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. It’s a rather cool new branch of fandom that has some pretty great creations, and this song is 1 of them--it’s quite lovely.
As far as the actual AMV goes, it’s quite nice. Which is not very surprising, since I imagine the process of thinking about a game while composing and capturing that which you love about it is probably a lot like creating an AMV in your head, so there’s already a natural synergy to be found between the game and the song.* This AMV doesn’t really excel in any particular aspect, but it comes together as a whole to be a calm, lightly epic tribute to the Kingdom Hearts series, worth checking out.
THE LEGEND OF ZELDA
The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess: To an End, by Pixaa Maana
The music used is Carnivore, by Starset. This is an AMV that exists in a rather rare niche, as fan music videos go: it relies frequently on special effects and typography, but it actually manages to use them sparingly, effectively, enhancing the visuals and emphasizing the song rather than just clumsily overshadowing them. A frequent annoyance of mine with special effects in AMVs, and especially with typography in AMVs, is that these bells and whistles often become the overwhelming focus of the work, obscuring the actual subject matter and basic foundations of a music video. It becomes like a meme so full of text that you can’t actually see the image behind it, or a picture so saturated with Photoshop lens flare effects that you can’t actually tell what it’s supposed to be.
So the fact that this AMV actually uses effects and typography in a way that increases its quality instead of utterly nullifying it is pretty damn great to me. I mean, it’s not some brilliant masterpiece in this regard, but it’s competent and enjoyable. The AMV also does well with pairing the darker visual style of TLoZTP to the music’s tone, and, of course, a song about a carnivore has a natural cohesion with a game about transforming into a wolf--although there are plenty of other aspects to the song’s lyrics that are well-characterized through the scenes’ visuals in this AMV, too. Good stuff.
THE WITCHER
The Witcher 2 + 3: Will of Thousands Wolves, by Ariyerd
The music used is Until We Go Down, by Ruelle. This AMV is characterized by impeccable editing, as the creator follows and coordinates each beat of the song with the visuals. Few AMVs are able to so organically meld and synchronize the video and audio to this degree, making the AMV as a whole feel like a single living entity. Spectacular editing talent makes this a high quality music video, plain and simple.
The Witcher 3: Geralt of Rivia Tribute, by Larvayne Yuno
The music used is Center of His Universe - Redemption, by Thomas-Adam Habuda. This is a really good AMV that serves as a tribute to Geralt of Rivia, and the Witcher series as a whole, primarily using the Witcher 3’s expansions to do so. It’s heartfelt and adept, and definitely fulfills Larvayne Yuno’s intentions as a poignant goodbye to the Witcher trilogy. I can think of few better fan works to experience after completing the trilogy than this video.
* Although, funny enough, I would have to say that I can imagine quite a few RPGs that I feel are actually better characterized by this song’s feel, style, and pace. The KH series definitely works for it, but I feel like the song’s elegance and tone could find closer matches. In my frank opinion, Kingdom Hearts is simply unworthy of such a good song born from a fan's heartfelt devotion as this.
BORDERLANDS
Borderlands 2: Paper Planes, by UFets
The music used is Paper Planes, by M.I.A. It’s kind of hard to imagine there ever being a better AMV for the Borderlands series than this one. Simply put, this is a masterful coming together of the perfect song for the perfect game. Paper Planes’s unsettling whimsy and energy is an absolutely flawless companion to the Borderlands series’s style, and UFets takes full advantage of that fact, creating a fun, active AMV that manages to be a tribute to the game, and yet also kind of just a likable engaging mess of noise and violence--which essentially makes it even more of a tribute to Borderlands 2. By far my favorite aspect of this AMV is that it replaces the various sound effects of the original Paper Planes (notably the gunshots), and replaces them with various sound effects from Borderlands 2. It’s a fun and creative quirk, and it makes this all the more great a tribute to the fun and madness that is signature to Borderlands 2. This one’s definitely the best AMV of today’s bunch.
FALLOUT
Fallout 4: Happiness, by Pandamic
The music used is Final Frontier, by Thomas Bergersen. This is a tribute AMV for the first half of Fallout 4’s main story, showing us the story of the Sole Survivor’s search for Shaun. It’s extremely well done, giving us a neat, tidy narrative of voice-overs and visuals that leads us along, but doesn’t over-explain, the protagonist’s journey to find her/his son, and effectively underscores the major ideas and themes of Fallout 4’s first half, most notably that of loss--of family, of purpose, of a life and world, of happiness, and of control. This is 1 of those videos that uses its short time well to crystallize the higher ideas of a game’s narrative, making clear the greatness of the game’s writing in a condensed way that might be too diluted over the long period of the actual gameplay for some players to have really come to appreciate. And while the music does not interact much with the visuals, it’s still a skillful AMV (or cousin to an AMV, however you count a tribute video) in that the music is well-chosen to convey the epic nature of Fallout 4’s story. This is a great offering that every Fallout 4 player should see, in my opinion.
FINAL FANTASY
Final Fantasy Series: Monsters, by YuniX2
The music used is Monsters, by Matchbook Romance. YuniX2 never fails to please, even when making a crossover AMV which incorporates a few clips from that horrific trash Final Fantasy 10-2. While this video is, by the creator’s own admission, not up to her usual standards, it’s still a damned solid, well-compiled music video that coordinates the tune and atmosphere of the music skillfully to the visuals of Final Fantasy 7, 8, 9, 10, and 10-2, and it serves as a good tribute to the villains of the FF series. Fine work once more from this AMV artist.
FIRE EMBLEM
Fire Emblem 14: Novacaine, by Phoenix of Nohr
The music used is Novacaine, by Fallout Boy. Although this video doesn’t really connect to the lyrics of the song in any particular way, this is nonetheless a well-made AMV for its ability to work Fire Emblem 14’s visuals to the pace and tune of the song, creating a fast, energized music video that catches you up with it from start to finish. It’s simple but strong AMV all-around.
KINGDOM HEARTS
Kingdom Hearts Series: A Ballad From a Dream, by Retro Raider
The music used is A Ballad From a Dream, by Retro Raider. Yeah, this is quite an interesting little AMV specimen, in that its creator is also the composer of the music within it! Apparently, Retro Raider created the music with the Kingdom Hearts series in mind, as a musical tribute/representation of it, much in the same way as Miracle of Sound has made dozens of original songs in tribute of various video games and movies, and bronies have composed hundreds of original songs based on characters, scenes, and ideas for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. It’s a rather cool new branch of fandom that has some pretty great creations, and this song is 1 of them--it’s quite lovely.
As far as the actual AMV goes, it’s quite nice. Which is not very surprising, since I imagine the process of thinking about a game while composing and capturing that which you love about it is probably a lot like creating an AMV in your head, so there’s already a natural synergy to be found between the game and the song.* This AMV doesn’t really excel in any particular aspect, but it comes together as a whole to be a calm, lightly epic tribute to the Kingdom Hearts series, worth checking out.
THE LEGEND OF ZELDA
The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess: To an End, by Pixaa Maana
The music used is Carnivore, by Starset. This is an AMV that exists in a rather rare niche, as fan music videos go: it relies frequently on special effects and typography, but it actually manages to use them sparingly, effectively, enhancing the visuals and emphasizing the song rather than just clumsily overshadowing them. A frequent annoyance of mine with special effects in AMVs, and especially with typography in AMVs, is that these bells and whistles often become the overwhelming focus of the work, obscuring the actual subject matter and basic foundations of a music video. It becomes like a meme so full of text that you can’t actually see the image behind it, or a picture so saturated with Photoshop lens flare effects that you can’t actually tell what it’s supposed to be.
So the fact that this AMV actually uses effects and typography in a way that increases its quality instead of utterly nullifying it is pretty damn great to me. I mean, it’s not some brilliant masterpiece in this regard, but it’s competent and enjoyable. The AMV also does well with pairing the darker visual style of TLoZTP to the music’s tone, and, of course, a song about a carnivore has a natural cohesion with a game about transforming into a wolf--although there are plenty of other aspects to the song’s lyrics that are well-characterized through the scenes’ visuals in this AMV, too. Good stuff.
THE WITCHER
The Witcher 2 + 3: Will of Thousands Wolves, by Ariyerd
The music used is Until We Go Down, by Ruelle. This AMV is characterized by impeccable editing, as the creator follows and coordinates each beat of the song with the visuals. Few AMVs are able to so organically meld and synchronize the video and audio to this degree, making the AMV as a whole feel like a single living entity. Spectacular editing talent makes this a high quality music video, plain and simple.
The Witcher 3: Geralt of Rivia Tribute, by Larvayne Yuno
The music used is Center of His Universe - Redemption, by Thomas-Adam Habuda. This is a really good AMV that serves as a tribute to Geralt of Rivia, and the Witcher series as a whole, primarily using the Witcher 3’s expansions to do so. It’s heartfelt and adept, and definitely fulfills Larvayne Yuno’s intentions as a poignant goodbye to the Witcher trilogy. I can think of few better fan works to experience after completing the trilogy than this video.
* Although, funny enough, I would have to say that I can imagine quite a few RPGs that I feel are actually better characterized by this song’s feel, style, and pace. The KH series definitely works for it, but I feel like the song’s elegance and tone could find closer matches. In my frank opinion, Kingdom Hearts is simply unworthy of such a good song born from a fan's heartfelt devotion as this.
Monday, February 18, 2019
General RPGs' Random Encounters' Strange Camaraderie
It has been said of both misery and politics that they make strange bedfellows, but I must contend that they are not alone: RPGs, too, join them.
I mean, honestly, does it strike anyone else as weird that you can, while walking around any given dungeon or outdoor environment in an RPG, encounter a skeleton, a bat, and a giant carnivorous plant all within 3 feet of one another, and that they have all formed an unspoken pact to work together as a single, cohesive battle unit to take out any random adventurers that happen to pass by? I mean, it’s not just that your party happened across a bunch of assorted wildlife/indigenous non-humanoids/robots/ghosts/etc at 1 location--it’s that they’re all cooperating specifically against you.
Why are these moles and this owl working together? Aren’t owls usually the natural predators of small mammals like moles? That bird should be concentrating on catching those moles as its dinner, not teaming up with them to assault random androids and aliens that happen to be close by. Furthermore, if the moles are, indeed, capable of working as a team with other non-moles, shouldn’t they choose, in this scenario, to ally with the adventurers, who, regardless of how threatening and unwelcome, are at least not a daily threat to the moles’ existence?
It may seem more normal for a bunch of the same kind of animal to work together, and I guess it is, but at the same time, when has a group of snakes ever come together to cooperate as a team toward a common goal? Snakes do not have thinky-thinky parts advanced enough to understand the concept of teamwork, let alone engage in it. The decision to defend their territory (and that really has to be the only reason they're on the attack, because I don't care how far their jaw unhinges, there's no way those things are gonna manage to eat Velvet and company) should make each of these serpents at least as antagonistic toward their fellows as towards the adventurers--more so, really, since the other snakes are the ones who would compete for the same resources.
And that’s just the oddity you can encounter with semi-normal animals. At least as often as you’ll encounter wolves, bears, eagles, rats, and unusually aggressive rabbits, you’ll get match-ups like this one:
Why is this jester out in the middle of the woods, and more pertinently, why is he working with animated, concentrated, floating spirits of fire? Even better, how is he working with them--how is said fire self-aware enough to determine that it wants to battle alongside this particular humanoid but not the other 4? Why do the fire and the jester want to murder these random explorers to begin with? Was this some sort of extremely private Tinder hookup, and they’re just pissed off at the heroes having caught them in the act? What does the giant fungus get from all this?
RPGs are weird, man.
I mean, honestly, does it strike anyone else as weird that you can, while walking around any given dungeon or outdoor environment in an RPG, encounter a skeleton, a bat, and a giant carnivorous plant all within 3 feet of one another, and that they have all formed an unspoken pact to work together as a single, cohesive battle unit to take out any random adventurers that happen to pass by? I mean, it’s not just that your party happened across a bunch of assorted wildlife/indigenous non-humanoids/robots/ghosts/etc at 1 location--it’s that they’re all cooperating specifically against you.
Why are these moles and this owl working together? Aren’t owls usually the natural predators of small mammals like moles? That bird should be concentrating on catching those moles as its dinner, not teaming up with them to assault random androids and aliens that happen to be close by. Furthermore, if the moles are, indeed, capable of working as a team with other non-moles, shouldn’t they choose, in this scenario, to ally with the adventurers, who, regardless of how threatening and unwelcome, are at least not a daily threat to the moles’ existence?
It may seem more normal for a bunch of the same kind of animal to work together, and I guess it is, but at the same time, when has a group of snakes ever come together to cooperate as a team toward a common goal? Snakes do not have thinky-thinky parts advanced enough to understand the concept of teamwork, let alone engage in it. The decision to defend their territory (and that really has to be the only reason they're on the attack, because I don't care how far their jaw unhinges, there's no way those things are gonna manage to eat Velvet and company) should make each of these serpents at least as antagonistic toward their fellows as towards the adventurers--more so, really, since the other snakes are the ones who would compete for the same resources.
And that’s just the oddity you can encounter with semi-normal animals. At least as often as you’ll encounter wolves, bears, eagles, rats, and unusually aggressive rabbits, you’ll get match-ups like this one:
Why is this jester out in the middle of the woods, and more pertinently, why is he working with animated, concentrated, floating spirits of fire? Even better, how is he working with them--how is said fire self-aware enough to determine that it wants to battle alongside this particular humanoid but not the other 4? Why do the fire and the jester want to murder these random explorers to begin with? Was this some sort of extremely private Tinder hookup, and they’re just pissed off at the heroes having caught them in the act? What does the giant fungus get from all this?
RPGs are weird, man.
Friday, February 8, 2019
General RPG Valentines 3
A great many thanks to both my sister and to Ecclesiastes for their help with making these!
Well, folks, it's Valentine's Day once more, and you know what that means: in an attempt to keep myself in good company, I've crafted some RPG-themed Valentines for you to send to the object of your affection, so that you, too, will spend this year's holiday single. Happy Day Before Cheap Chocolate Day, all!
And of course, for those of you who want a more straightforward but still RPG-themed way of driving people away, I got you covered on that angle, too!
Well, folks, it's Valentine's Day once more, and you know what that means: in an attempt to keep myself in good company, I've crafted some RPG-themed Valentines for you to send to the object of your affection, so that you, too, will spend this year's holiday single. Happy Day Before Cheap Chocolate Day, all!
And of course, for those of you who want a more straightforward but still RPG-themed way of driving people away, I got you covered on that angle, too!
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