The characters we create are, ideally, more than their looks. Sure, we spend time putting together a certain look for a character. I know when Guild Wars 2 is booted up on my machine, I’ll be spending quite a bit of time in its character creator, customizing eye colors and cheekbone height and whatnot. But there’s a lot more to it than that. Good writers know that a character that draws in the audience has to do more than just look good or sound good. There has to be something beyond skin deep.
Take, for example, Adam Jensen. I know there has been some response to this character, including some to this very review, saying that Adam subscribes to too many ‘badass’ tropes to be taken seriously as a character. The long black coat, the gravelly voice, the shades implanted directly in his skull, and so on. Considering his look is based on a real person, a member of Eidos’ own team, one could even argue that it verges on author insertion, if not the dreaded Mary Sue stereotype.
However, scratch Adam’s surface and you find depth underneath. He doesn’t just spill out of the title screen like Neo expunged from the Matrix. Even before he’s augmented, Adam has conflicts both internal and external. He wrestles with his feelings, voices opinions and demonstrates a sense of professionalism about his work. After his brush with death, under all the shiny augmentations and badass powers and abilities, he still has all of that baggage and plenty more besides. Thus the gameplay becomes more than just “go here and shoot these guys” as you would get in a Halo or a Call of Duty. Even outside of dialog, you as Adam are making choices. Do you succumb to the expedient means of dispatch to clear out the opposition, or do you approach your objective quietly with a minimum loss of human life?
I bring this up because I think it’s important a character be faced with choices. Do they confront the bullies or try to leave quietly to avoid getting involved? Do they destroy the evil life-form in an act of genocide to save other lives, or simply seal the facility to slow the monstrosities down? There are some stories out there that present the paths of their protagonists as strictly linear, while others allow their character to make wrong choices and struggle to overcome obstacles they have themselves created.
Regardless of how our characters look or sound, they are defined by the choices they make. Therefore, a character who makes no choices or allows decisions to be made for them lacks definition, and the whole story suffers when that happens. To strengthen your story, empower your characters in the decisions they make. That way, when the audience sees them, they’ll see something that goes beyond skin deep.
No ICFN this week, I simply ran out of time doing other projects. It shall return next week!
In the meantime, here’s a piece I wrote years ago to compliment the game which was, at that time, under development by Machine Age Productions. It’s a story of the Amaranthine, and it may whet your whistle for even better stories on their way to you in the Amaranthology.
The band had some kitschy, trendy name that they thought set them apart from the pack. It simply made them sound like another pop-emo-rock fusion outfit trying to be someone more successful. Trevor wasn’t certain why he’d come down here to see them live. He didn’t even like this sort of music. But he’d caught a glimpse of one of their tacky posters, and suddenly he HAD to be here, in this crowd.
He hadn’t paid, of course. If you knew the city the way he did, you could find ways into anyplace that weren’t watched, alarmed or locked. He slipped through the bodies of the crowd, some of the contact welcome, others jarring. The first opening act was leaving the stage as the second was coming on, the one he’d come to see. The girl behind the drums was tightening the bass kit, the guy with the emo fringe setting up his keyboard. Neither of them were familiar. Just two more in the sea of faces that was the indy music scene.
Then the other two members came on stage. Trevor recognized them both. He’d been born and raised in this town, and while he didn’t know where he’d seen them before, the sight of them was like an icepick in his mind – cold, clear and sharp. The girl tuning her bass, to him, seemed out of place up there, in skull motif bikini top, short jean skirt and high-heeled boots ending just below her knees. The last time he’d seen her face it had been shining at him from within the confines of a habit.
A nun? Where did he know a nun from? All of the nuns he’d known in school were wrinkly old gargoyles, not the rock nymph casually ignoring all of the whistles and cat-calls. And the guy next to her… He wore a similar fringe to the keyboardist, skinny jeans, a shirt with wide horizontal stripes, combat boots without laces. The Fender in his hands was beaten and stained, decorated with skater stickers. But the face behind that pomade-slicked hair… Trevor knew that face.
The kid stepped up to the microphone. The lights came down, spots on the band. Trevor’s hand trembled.
“Bless me Father for I have sinned!”
The band came slamming down on their first chord, and it was like Trevor had been kicked in the gut. He heard the words again, this time a whisper, and in Italian.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession.”
The figure in the other side of the booth kept to the shadows. The monsignor did not mind. Let the good people of Florence have their privacy, he thought, as long as they give their burdens to God and their florins to my church.
“You are safe in the house of God, my son. I will hear your confession.”
“I have killed seven people.”
The monsignor paused. “Are you a soldier, my son? A soldier is expected to kill in dark times, and we live in dark times indeed.”
“No, Father, I am no soldier. Not in the sense of marching in rank and taking orders. I am a soldier in a different sense.”
“How do you mean?”
“You have served the Medicis for quite some time, Father. I’m sure you’re aware of their coming exile.”
“Yes. Their loss will surely diminish Firenze.”
“That is one opinion. Another is that a French toad in control of Firenze is something the people do not want. Many of the Medici’s loyal supporters will assist them in remaining here longer than is healthy for the people.”
“I am afraid I do not understand, my son.”
“You are their confessor. I cannot have them falling under my blade having confessed their many sins.”
The blade came through the wicker screen without warning, cold steel lancing across the Mon Sengior’s throat. Blood flowed freely down the front of his robes, staining the black of his oath and the violet of his station with crimson. He grasped the wound and collapsed, gasping but clinging to the last bit of life left in him.
“Your soul will go to God, Father. You will not see these parishioners again. Perhaps in time, you will consider this a favor. Good night, sweet prince.”
A power chord on the bass shocked Trevor back into the here and now. He glanced around the crowd. Had anybody else seen that, felt that? What had just happened to him? He turned back to the stage.
The lead singer was staring right at him.
He was singing his over-emotional lyrics, barely audible over his too-technical guitar playing, and he was staring directly at Trevor. Trevor blinked. No… the eye-line was off slightly. He turned to look behind him.
Fiona. The boss’s daughter.
The connection clicked into place. He’d seen the poster in Fiona’s room. That’s why he’d come here. Fiona was a fan. Fiona, who had been trying so hard to please her father. Fiona, who had long been promised to the son of the boss’ rivals in Chinatown to a bright young man who, despite being half-chink, had impressed Trevor with his politeness and poise.
Fiona, who was getting moist at this punk’s attention.
Trevor faded through the crowd. He waited until the songs were over. Then he moved through the darkness towards the backstage area. The band was tossing back water from bottles. The singer turned to Trevor as he approached.
“Sorry, man, gotta wait for us to come to you at the merch table.”
“I’m not here for your merch.”
The singer blinked, trying to clear them of the haze caused by some illegal substance. The other band members looked on, the drummer and keyboardist wide-eyed and frozen with uncertainty. The bassist, however, merely backed up a pace, taking a long sip from her water bottle. Her eyes never left Trevor’s face.
“What, are you an agent or something?” The singer hooked his thumbs in his skinny jeans. “You wanna sign us?”
“No.”
Trevor had gotten good at never telegraphing his punches. It was something the boss loved. Once he’d knocked out a 300-pound Sicilian with a single punch. The fat bastard had screamed at the boss to let him have another crack at Trevor, to have a fair fight. The boss had laughed in his face and demanded his money. 90 days overdue was 89 too long by the boss’ count.
So when he hit the singer with a right cross to the face, nobody saw it coming. The drummer & keyboardist were on their feet, gasping in shock. Not the bassist, though. She was smiling. Somehow, Trevor didn’t need to see it. He could feel her smile.
“You were eyeing up the pretty blond behind me, weren’t you, boy?”
Trevor hauled the punk up by his trendy shirt. He punched him again, with the left, breaking his nose. The blood flowed freely, almost eagerly, just as it had down Trevor’s robes. Trevor saw red. He punched the singer again and again. Every time, he heard another voice, saw another face, always the same face but different times, different places.
“Requiescat in pace.” Punch. “Does Columbus even know where he’s going?” Punch. “The British are coming!” Punch. “Fuck you and your Arch-duke.” Punch. “I don’t think Hitler has what it takes to lead.” Punch. “How dare they destroy the Buddhas! They’re sacred relics!” Punch.
By the time Trevor came back to his senses, the singer’s face was a mess, bruised, bloody and swollen. He let the unconscious punk slip to the floor. There was commotion towards the front of the venue, bouncers fighting through the surging crowd to get to him. The bassist placed her empty water bottle by the stage, fingers sliding over a splotch of red on her skin.
“You got blood on me.”
Trevor caught his breath. “Sorry. I don’t know what…”
“No. But I do.” She took his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Trevor was pulled towards the backstage door. “Wait. Who are you? How do I know you?”
She smiled over her shoulder at him. “I’ve been waiting five lifetimes to hear you ask me something like that. It’s about time you woke up to what you really are.”
A few months ago I finally got around to reviewing Deus Ex, a RPG-shooter that empowered a player to make choices while being unfortunately hindered by its technology. After a sequel that didn’t go over as well for many reasons, it would be a while before a third installment would come along. With a decade’s worth of improvements under its belt, Deus Ex: Human Revolution arrived last year with promises to deliver an authentic experience for fans of the old game while introducing new players to something with a bit more depth than your usual modern military shooter. These promises, along with the knowledge that this is actually a prequel to the original game, made me a little trepidatious when I first booted it up.
I like how the shades are the projection surface for your HUD.
The year is 2026, and prostheses once limited to medical applications have expanded into the realm of human augmentation, allowing those with the means and a tolerance for constant maintenance and drug intake to do things normal humans could only dream of. At the forefront of this new push in technologies is Sarif Industries, and its security is the responsibility of Adam Jensen. On the eve of a landmark hearing before Congress, Sarif is attacked by augmented mercenaries and Adam is mortally wounded. Saved from the brink of death by the very technology he tried desperately to protect, Adam must undertake the task of tracking down the metallic murderers and uncover their employers.
As it bears the Deus Ex title, you can expect Human Revolution to contain similar conspiracy theories, locations envisioned for a near future and interesting character turns. To its credit, the game does hit all three points, but it doesn’t quite reach the depths of the original. The plans of the opposing forces in Adam’s life can often be discerned relatively quickly. There are not as many locations to visit, and in fact you revisit the two main hubs once apiece rather than going to new places, an unfortunate result of a budget or deadline getting cut during production. I’ll deal with different character points as we go along, as this is likely the place where Human Revolution both shines the brightest and needs the most polish, if that makes any sense.
The good news for fans of Deus Ex, or in fact any stealth-based game, is that you will be rewarded for tactical thinking and moving unseen. With multiple routes to reach an objective and a system that rewards experimentation and improvisation, the core gameplay is incredibly solid, even the cover system and the finishing moves – which can be very satisfying to pull off on an unsuspecting guard that just walked past you reporting everything’s clear. The non-lethal weapons work just as well as their lead-slinging counterparts, making the challenge of completing the game without taking a human life actually seem appealing (at least to me). And the best boss fights happen in the form of conversation trees, where discerning the other person’s emotions and choosing the right response becomes just as arduous and fulfilling as shooting them.
One of the unfortunate concessions that had to be made to new players was a limitation on the number of role-playing game options available. While the augmentation system does allow a measure of customization early on, allowing players to purchase upgrade points as well as giving them as XP rewards yields more than enough elbow room to round Adam out in every area, especially considering some of the upgrades are completely useless. Speaking of Adam, his conversation animation and those of other characters occasionally felt a little jilted or unfocused, a problem that thankfully never occurred during one of the aforementioned talk bosses. The rest of the gameplay is so good, however, that these flaws can be overlooked without too much trouble.
The non-talk boss fights are perhaps the biggest problem I (and many others) have with Deus Ex: Human Revolution. With a game system that offers a plethora of ways to approach an obstacle, limiting one’s choices in a boss fight to “shoot the bastard” feels like a major dumbing-down of the source material. There are a few ways with proper planning beforehand to make these fights less of a chore, but at first blush they really throw the game off of its otherwise excellent pace. The ending of the game, as well, feels watered down. Rather than building up to a climax that empowers the player to make an informed choice through conversation, we are presented with a series of big red buttons. Getting railroaded in this way really undercuts the freedom of choice espoused in the original, to this game’s detriment.
While many of the decisions made in bringing this game to players disappoint or even infuriate, Deus Ex: Human Revolution is enjoyable to play for 90% of the time and does offer real replay value, outside of any DLC. On its own, it’s competent and executed well despite some glaring flaws; when compared to some of the other modern shooters out there, it shines like brushed chrome. It’s a much more worthy addition to the Deus Ex library than Invisible War, and I’m looking forward to playing it again, on the hardest difficulty level, without killing a single human being save for the boss fights.
Hoo boy.
Stuff I Liked: Adam’s a much more sympathetic protagonist than your run-of-the-mill soldier or space marine. He has support characters that are interesting without being irritants. Stealth gameplay is executed well and I liked getting little XP bonuses for taking the time to explore and taking down enemies quietly. And it’s always fun to move things like vending machines and copiers around in an office building or housing complex just for the heck of it. Stuff I Didn’t Like: The boss fights and ending made me feel railroaded and didn’t quite jive with the Deus Ex vibe. Some of the animations aren’t as smooth as they could have been. A couple stereotypical accents eek through here and there. Stuff I Loved: A well-balanced main game engine underscored by an excellent soundtrack and beautifully rendered aesthetic. The talking bosses were a great departure for normal shooter gameplay, lending even more concreteness and immersion to the experience. Writing high above average for modern shooters and a definite respect for the original Deus Ex without being pandering or an act of fan service.
Bottom Line: It isn’t perfect, and some of the aforementioned flaws may seem like deal-breakers. But if you go into it with the right mindset, Deus Ex: Human Revolution will definitely scratch the itch that hasn’t really been scratched since 2000. It’s definitely worth your time to check out if you’re a fan of the original or of good RPG-shooters in general, especially if you can pick it up on sale.
If you’re even tangentially connected to video games that deviate from the big cash-cow options of linear, realistic first-person shooters and endorsed sports simulations, chances are you’ve heard of a game called Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning. After all, it isn’t often when a new IP makes it out of the imagination of a basement programmer and onto major platforms. Sure, indie titles can sneak into consoles and hard drives, but we’re talking a full-blown commercial release backed by the marketing juggernaut of EA. You need to have serious clout to get them involved. Being a major league baseball star helps.
Curt Schilling isn’t just a pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, you see. He plays and is passionate about MMORPGs. He founded 38 Studios to develop his own, currently code-named Copernicus. In the meantime, his creative resources for the art direction and backstory for the project, Todd MacFarlane & R.A. Salvatore respectively, also developed a single-player RPG called Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning, which boasts an open world, organic and free-flowing combat and a dynamic character-building system allowing you to change what sort of character you play on the fly. It’s an impressive endeavor on paper.
At first blush, however, it seems that a few notes have been cribbed from BioWare. You start the game having been recently resurrected (Mass Effect 2) in an underground facility reminiscent of the Deep Roads (Dragon Age: Origins) and everybody seems to be in awe of you but are no help in filling in the gaping holes in your memory due to your amnesia (Knights of the Old Republic 2). I don’t mean to say or even imply that Reckoning is ripping off BioWare or anybody else. R.A. Salvatore apparently wrote up a timeline of 10000 years’ worth of history for this new world, and I like the fact that the primary conflict is due to a struggle between the Summer and Winter Courts kind of like that one novel in the Dresden Files.
While the story beats may feel familiar, the world at least has a unique aesthetic with a breathtaking amount of detail. The world is rendered in such a way that every aspect has some thought & creative energy behind it. The walls and decoration of buildings give them a lived-in feeling and the forests have flowers, fungus and greenery aplenty. Character designs opt more for fantastical, painter-like style rather than photo-realism, and it fits in with the overall design of the world even if the NPCs seem to only have three or four gestures between them.
I can see why you’re by a fire. Doesn’t it get cold in that getup?
You’ll be seeing those gestures quite a bit, too, as you go from one glowing exclamation point to the next picking up quests. Like the MMOs that drove Schilling into the gaming business, Reckoning is structured to present a world in which you can explore every corner as you hunt down quest objectives, item drops or just some extra experience to build your character. The knowledge of these origins and the nature of the gameplay make it not quite as immersive as Skyrim but it’s still a tried-and-true design that will have players grinding for hours, battling enemies they happen upon and taking all their stuff.
Combat immediately reminded me of the likes of Fable and Dragon Age 2, with a slightly better pace. You can switch on the fly between two melee weapons and a variety of spells, stringing them together into interesting combos to vary the ways in which you dispatch hapless opponents. You also have a blocking maneuver, though you may need to wait for the animation of your last attack to finish up before your shield appears, and you can also dodge. There doesn’t seem to be a great deal of delay outside of what I’ve mentioned, and I’d say the game encourages you to try different weapons and styles because sticking to one particular set of skills could get a bit repetitive. Also, on Normal difficulty, it was entirely possible for me to run roughshod over the guards in the starting village and collect whatever gold and armor they dropped. I spent the night in jail afterwards, sure, but other than that there was no consequence. It was like nothing ever happened, kind of like appearing outside the police station in a Grand Theft Auto game but retaining all of my weapons and stolen goods.
In addition to your normal means of laying waste to folks is the Fate meter that grows as you deal damage. Fate plays a big part in the world of Amalur, and as one who does not have a pre-determined Fate, you have the power over the Fates of others. After enough mundane destruction you can go into a special mode that slows down the world and allows you to unload on an enemy with abandon. At a certain point you can execute that enemy with a special quick-time event for bonus XP. It’s animated well and has a unique look to it, varying the means of execution enough to keep things interesting in that regard.
FINISH HIM.
Character advancement revolves around three skill trees: Might, Finesse and Sorcery. The more points you invest in a particular tree, the more options you unlock in the form of character classes based on Fate cards. This makes it easy to create a hybrid class of character rather than being rigidly fixed within one of the three main archetypes. And if you’re ever unsatisfied with your choices, a little gold to a Fateweaver allows you to re-specialize immediately. I didn’t spend enough time to delve into the crafting professions or really check out the selection from vendors, but if my experience thus far is anything to go by, they’ll be very similar to established conventions with a bit more depth in places.
I guess what I’m getting at is that, to me, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning feels a bit derivative. Don’t, however, take that as an entirely negative thing. What the game does, it does well. The way lore is weaved into most aspects of the game is impressive and I can’t deny it has a neat look to it, even if some of the proportions and fashion decisions strike me as somewhat odd or trying too hard to be ‘fantastical.’ It sticks to tried-and-true methods of RPG design and for the most part is functional and slightly above average without pushing too many boundaries or blowing a lot of minds. For a first title in a new IP from an untested studio, I can’t help but be somewhat impressed, and I can understand cribbing notes from what’s worked before in order to forge a successful title. I just hope that Copernicus and future Amalur titles take a few more risks, as Reckoning tends to play it safe. Still, there’s some good game to be enjoyed here, and if you want to pick up Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning for some MMO-flavored action that also lets you unlock collectible armor and weapons for other titles like Mass Effect 3, I say go for it.
Remember when the Bard class was included with the basic ruleset for Dungeons & Dragons? Those were the days. When you wanted to be pretty good at just about everything without over-specializing in beating up bad guys or attacking the darkness with magic missile, you chose the Bard. The downside to that choice is why the melee specialists are all carving up the dragons and the spell-casters are teleporting all over the world to blow raspberries at the evil overlord’s close relatives, you still have your songs to offer but that’s about it. It’s an inherent problem with generalization; you’re good at things in general, but you’re not what people would call an expert.
I tend to run in a similar vein. I’m no expert on anything I do, but I do quite a bit with my time.
For example, while I think my writing is overall halfway decent I doubt it’s going to set the world on fire. Part of the reason it takes me a while to produce anything of value is that I know my initial attempts at anything aren’t going to be that good. I used to be of the mindset that a new idea was enough; that as long as I tried something different I could sell the words with no problem. Time and experience have thankfully disproved that notion and I set about writing as part of a larger process, i.e. writing leads to editing leads to rewriting and then, maybe, it’ll be good enough to show to other people. I can write, I simply can’t sit down and bang out a decently marketable work as quickly as some others can.
When it comes to that other occupier of my free time, gaming, I’m again aware of what it would take to be top notch. At times I catch myself leaning into an attitude that I feel is required for improved play and success. However, this is a leisure activity, and playing with my wife or family or close friends reminds me that I should be having fun, not just taking the game seriously in order to win. I may be good at the games I play, but as what only can be described as a ‘casual’ my outright tournament wins will likely be rare.
Both of these aforementioned activities take place when I’m not at the dayjob. I really didn’t think, growing up, that puttering around with computers would yield steady pay. And yet, thanks to what I consider a secondary set of skills, I’m able to sustain my passion and hobbies as well as a roof over my head. I can’t say I’m really a part of the coding community and I still struggle with things from time to time, but I’m good enough at programming to earn my pay.
I may never be a true master in any of these areas, but I’ll keep trying to improve. Who knows? All the effort should yield something eventually, and in the meantime, it’s difficult for me to become truly bored.
