Against my better judgement, the lights in my apartment are connected to a wireless network controlled via an app. There are physical buttons, but they are located near the plugs, at ground level and often behind obstructions. When I leave, turning off the light requires digging my phone out of my pocket, typing in the unlock code, opening the app, waiting for it to detect the network, then tapping a button to turn off the light. I do all of this while standing an inch or so away from the old wall switch, the use of which would achieve the same result in a fraction of the time. As a result of this modernity, every time I leave the apartment, I feel the uncontrollable urge to make sure I’m listening to the title theme from French director Jacques Tati’s 1958 masterpiece Mon Oncle. I am, at that moment, Monsieur Hulot. Continue reading…
Posted August 3, 2006
The mob of deranged and frothy beasts approaches quickly, my tower shield and fearsome-looking warhammer doing nothing to slow their approach. Blood is spilled as I dispatch the group quickly, their remains forming a pile at my feet. I loot the corpses, ignoring the broken weapons that were casualties of the skirmish. I drink a health potion, and continue on my journey towards the next objective.
Add in some equipment modification or “crafting lite”, some disposable side quests, and map-based save point system to the above and you’ve basically got the formula for every action RPG since Blizzard’s Diablo II (2000). The game mechanics are brutally simple: kill monsters, get new weapons and armour or gold to buy them with. Earn experience with each kill to gain points to upgrade a series of attributes and special abilities, which in a medieval-like setting don’t vary that much between games.
Iron Lore’s Titan Quest (2006) is the latest game to repackage these conventions, and the results are surprisingly enjoyable.
While many games are often criticized for lazily copying past successes, Titan Quest takes a break from the medieval and borrows freely from Greek, Egyptian and Chinese mythology for its setting. The adventure may be different, but the features expected of any action RPG are all intact. Well, except for an excess of mouse clicking.
The act of playing is hopelessly mechanical; the ceaseless clicking and looting and inventory shuffling would cause the uninitiated to shrug it all off as some swords-and-sorcery paper doll simulator. What is it about these games that make them so immediately captivating? Why is there an urgency to complete quests that essentially mean nothing?
This discussion is interchangeable with the current state of MMORPGs — with the addition of persistent worlds full of actual human players, of course — but the purpose of play is still exactly the same. Characters advance through killing scores of monsters for arbitrary rewards.
This design maintains the illusion of empowerment inside a tightly controlled environment. The main story will never change in the case of the single-player action RPG, nor will the method by which the player gets there. But the character — that’s customizable. The player is the character at the centre of the action, and is as important as the story. Consider it a simplification of the archetypal Hero’s Journey — a Level 1 character begins his quest with very little information or powers; the world is in turmoil and must be set right. A trip is made to the local town where the first quest is obtained, and the adventure begins.
The Quests are important. They’re milestones in the larger narrative, yes. But they’re also a known list of accomplishments. Like any game the objectives are usually laid out beforehand, but the list of quests that is constantly updated provides a record of their accomplishments.
It’s not like a First Person Shooter or platformer, which can essentially be “beaten” through raw skill; the RPG has a character, a constant during the entire experience that can grow and transform according to the player’s wishes. Not having the right equipment or sufficient stash of health potions can make the difference between dying a few times and not being able to go any further.
With a character that has received investment of this nature, going back to the game is not so much going back to the world as it is revisiting the avatar. The progress within the game can be seen; the character is a representation of hours worth of gameplay and careful consideration into modifying its attributes and equipment. Though it’s certainly tough to explain the appeal (or the time spent, for that matter) to anyone unfamiliar with the genre.
In the case of Titan Quest the journey eventually comes to an end, with the Great Evil plaguing the land having finally been vanquished by a character festooned in the most luxurious warrior fashions. But MMORPGs have managed to prolong this outcome, securing players for the long term. Characters are in a perpetual state of development, and when they aren’t being upgraded with experience or rare items they are contributing to instanced dungeon raids or guild activities. The clicking and looting become secondary to the social activities that are plentiful in the game’s high-level content; the developers have simply encouraged the players to create their own adventures.