[Before anyone asks, yes; this applies to SW:TOR and any other subscription-based MMO.]
Recently, like many a person in the current economic climate, I’ve been looking at where I can save cash. It’s actually a fairly simple process. You go through your bank statement and list of debits/credits and you decide on what you have to pay, what you can pay less of, and how you can increase what comes in. Mobile phone contracts, broadband providers or services you don’t need or want; you’d be amazed at how much you can save when you think about it.
It was my dear ol’ mum who was assisting me with this and, as mums often do, she asked an awkward question:
“Why are you paying a tenner a month to play a stupid game?”
An “um” and an “ah” later, I gave her the stock answer of server cost and development time. You know, new stuff is added all the time and that’s what you pay the subscription for. The thing is, following my financial repositioning, I’m struggling to justify to myself why I’m paying this money and (as communal as I get, I promise) why anyone is.
World of Warcraft has the much vaunted number of 10 million monthly subscribers. Whether they play or not doesn’t matter, they’re paying for the privilege and that puts their cash on the pile. Forgiving my admittedly crap arithmetic and the fact these numbers can never be exact, it’s absolutely startling how much money Blizzard generates from this.
Here’s the simplest presentation I can do for 10 million players.
£9 a month (£108 a year): £90 million a month (£1080 million a year).
On top of this, we have to also remember that the Cataclysm box was worth £30 and that it launched to a record of 12 million players. What that means is that at least 12 million players MUST have purchased the Cataclysm box, which amounts to another £360 million pounds straight off the bat. TL, DR?
Cataclysm (an EXPANSION) has made Blizzard at least £1440 million since it launched.
Now, the reason I say “at least” is because we’re almost at February which gives us 13 months rather than 12, and not everyone pays monthly; there are discounts for buying 3/6 month packages. I’ve also not counted the cash they make from micro-transactions such as cross realms, faction changes, mounts or pets. Lastly, new players have to cough up for the previous boxes before they can even start on the newest iteration of the game.
The question from the wide point of view is where the hell does this money go? A video I watched recently regarding Guild Wars 2 was talking about this same subject, and the most common answers to the question are server upkeep, bug fixes and development time. The problem is that none of these come anywhere near close to the total sum of £468 million. The cost of running the servers (yes, all of them) is negligible these days, and I’m damned if I’m going to pay EXTRA for bug fixes that should come with my purchase of the box.
No, it seems that the vast majority of my subscription fee is going toward development time and, frankly, it’s hard to see any justification for this at all. What “development time” really means is resources, the wages paid to employees who develop the game and what they need to do so.
Take a look at the content creation by Trion Worlds, as an aside, and compare it to Blizzard. A box costing a tenner is accompanied by a tenth of the subscription fees coming in monthly (a guess). If we bump that up to the year of Cataclysm, remembering it’s only an expansion, here are the numbers (again, “ish”):
£10 box, £108 subscription for a million players: £118 million.
Now obviously it’s more than that as the box used to be more expensive and I’m not counting the previously higher subscription numbers or micro-transactions, but we’re looking at around 25% of the revenue generated.
Now consider the amount of content Trion is pushing out compared to Blizzard. It’s significantly higher and, to be blunt, of a lot higher quality. What we’re being expected to believe is that the money Blizzard generates is required to pay their staff and their rent, roughly. But consider the fact that this £468 million would pay almost 5000 employees £100,000 a year. Blizzard don’t employ anywhere near that many, and they certainly don’t pay them all anywhere near that amount of cash. Yes, some will be earning more but the vast majority will be earning a truckload less.
But that’s big stuff, with numbers involved that are almost impossible to really discuss without knowing them intimately. What, on a practical level, does this mean to me?
It means that over the course of Cataclysm, I’ve paid £108 in subscription fees and gotten the grand total of two raid instances, five dungeons (two reskinned), an LFR tool, transmogrification and a set of daily quests.
That’s it. If you’re a raider of any capability at all, you’ve gotten fifteen bosses worth of meaningful content for the price of nigh-on four expansion boxes. Now also consider that, at this point in time, one £9 subscription would easily be enough to see the entire canon of Cataclysm’s content with time to spare (obviously including the box).
EVERY SINGLE ONE OF US IS BEING RIPPED OFF.
This has nothing to do with how good or bad the game is, or whether or not Ghostcrawler devours the bones of infant capuchin monkeys while sipping Starbucks. It’s entirely to do with the fact that we are being fleeced obscene amounts of money for a product that is nowhere near worth what we pay for it.
This has got to stop.
It’s nothing to do with making money, really, it’s to do with making better games that we want to play. At the moment, because you’re paying a subscription, you simply cough up and make do with whatever rubbish is tossed your way. A major patch with two rehashed dungeons, and a final patch with re-skinned bosses and environments, painfully teaches us that. The thing is, this is just a keep-net level of content that is “just enough, just in time” and is purely designed to keep us paying monthly at the minimum possible level of output from the company. In other words, World of Warcraft is no longer being designed to be the best game possible, it’s being designed to make it the most profitable game possible.
The two are not the same thing.
What rams this point home is that Trion and BioWare have both chosen to take this route as well, making the issue self-perpetuating and keeping us in this rut of paying through the nose for AAA MMORPG’s that aren’t worth the money we pay for them. Let’s face it, ever since Blizzard admitted that Ulduar was never going to happen again because it was too costly and time-consuming, we’ve placidly accepted that quality is a secondary consideration to cash.
This isn’t a call to arms, it’s really not. What would be the point? People would still argue that £108 a year is what makes the game good, what keeps gold sellers out, and guarantees you content regardless. People will still pay it because, over the course of a year, £108 isn’t an expensive hobby. What I’m trying to do is make you ask yourself if what you’re getting is worth your hard-earned money when you consider the fact that your £30 box could have been Skyrim, leaving you £108 to buy another three games that you can log on and play whenever you like without having to worry about paying a subscription.
We really need to wise up and switch on to this. Games made BY gamers, FOR gamers, are a pipe dream while we keep making fat cat businesspeople obscenely rich.
It’s up to you.
Running wild through Azeroth from the perspective of a Protection warrior.
Search the Ramblings
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
Fixing up professions, Part 1.
We spoke last week about how professions have taken a nosedive in World of Warcraft, how they were gutted to make them more balanced for raiding, and how Star Wars chose to handle them with their version of trade skills. Essentially, I ended with the premise that professions/trade skills should be their own form of endgame character development and that they should be linked to the wider game as a whole. This thread on MMO-Champion turned out to be widely positive (a rarity for the MMORPG community), something that assures me I was touching on a topic that had some mileage.
For my part, it’s time to start talking about how I’d fix some of the issues that plague the current mediocrity we call professions and/or trade skills.
First up, let’s start with how BioWare can move beyond simply improving the UI and making things less orientated toward “the grind”. Basically speaking, the current incarnation of trade skills is needlessly limiting, clunky and lacks scope; essentially, you’re really only making one decision and that’s your crafting skill.
Okay, quick resume – there are three forms of trade skills in the game, and you choose one of each (14 trade skills in total):
Crafting: Crafting skills are relatively obvious, as they use materials to “craft” things that can be used by players. Synthweaving, artifice, armstech, armormech, cybertech and biochem fall into this category.
Gathering: Gathering skills, funnily enough, provide those necessary materials that your crafting skill requires. Scavenging, bioanalysis and slicing are your gathering skills.
Mission: Mission skills provide specific materials that complement gathering, as well as craft patterns and companion gifts. These include diplomacy, treasure hunting, investigation, archaeology and underworld trading.
The problem is that, when push comes to shove, your gathering and mission choices are dictated by your crafting choice because it’s just too unwieldy to try and level otherwise, thanks to your companions doing the significant majority of your gathering. I wanted to take Biochem, and that essentially shoved me into Bioanalysis so that I can get the materials to level the former. If I want to make proper use of reverse engineering and get prototype plans that my characters can actually make use of, I need the medical supplies provided by Diplomacy.
So that’s me. If I want to take Biochem as my crafting profession, Bioanalysis and Diplomacy are the necessary options to go with it. All of the possible combinations available from fourteen trade skills end up boiled down into one of six. This is compounded by the fact that you can’t take more than one crafting skill, so taking a gathering one that doesn’t complement it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. What makes this particularly clunky is that your companions get certain bonuses to trade skills, and you have no control over what these bonuses are and how much help they’ll provide as you level.
Ugh.
What we have is a convenient system, with one real choice to make and no actual gameplay involved in levelling it. Let’s go about changing that without breaking this convenience many players appreciate.
First of all, we need to move away from limiting players to only one crafting skill. If they want the GTN method of levelling synthweaving as well as biochem, with all of the accompanying financial heartache, that should be up to the player. Let’s not forget that you could easily use an alternative character to make this more manageable, so it’s not all doom and gloom. The fact is that there is literally no reason to limit players in this way – it doesn’t achieve anything.
Equally, if a player wants to take a couple of gathering skills then they should be allowed to. They may be guild material flunkies (which is fine), or they may want to use those skills to earn themselves credits in a way that doesn’t involve dailies or PvP.
Secondly, I would allow players to level all of the mission trade skills. In the way World of Warcraft has separated primary professions and secondary professions, crafting and gathering should be primary trade skills while the player should be allowed to level every secondary trade skill they fancy. This allows players more options in what they want to level, stops shoehorning them into taking the “correct” mission skill, and gives them access to every mission quest drop that appears (rather than cursing the underworld trading drop that they had to give away).
Essentially, I dislike the game making the choices for me. It’s pointlessly restrictive, and stops any “gaming” of trade skills from taking place. What I’ve just described gives players the opportunity to do as much or as little of the trade skill content that they want, without having to really do any of it.
But making these relatively minor changes brings us to what World of Warcraft has. What can we do to actually make it better and more fun?
First of all, I’d start with allowing players to specialise again. This is especially true in Star Wars, where the system already splits your crafting trade skill into sections to make it more manageable. When you cap a profession, either a mission terminal or the game itself can lead you to where a specialised crafter will help you to go down a specific route. For biochem, I have the choice of going with adrenals for combat performance, stimulants for convenience, medpacs for survivability and implants for a little more gear. The beauty here is that your mission trade skills could play a part in this, finding specific patterns that allow you to move down each route. Sticking with my own example, I’ve managed to pick up a set of Rakata adrenals, stimulants and medpacs that are very powerful; perhaps too powerful. Rather than guaranteeing these powerful items for next to no effort on the part of the player, why not limit them to specialisations that reward a bit of effort and aren’t quite so easy to thrash out which is technically “better”.
Of course, let’s not forget that the Rakata items require raid drops to create. Why? Yet again, a full list of mission trade skills could work together in order to create that specific item, then see it incorporated into powerful results for dedicated crafters. It’s silly that a player must raid in order to complete his trade skill items, when said items are not solely useful for raids.
Right, this is already getting a bit long. I’m going to cut this one here in order to make it more readable, and update during the week to pour everything I’d do with professions and trade skills onto these pages.
Stay tuned. o/
For my part, it’s time to start talking about how I’d fix some of the issues that plague the current mediocrity we call professions and/or trade skills.
First up, let’s start with how BioWare can move beyond simply improving the UI and making things less orientated toward “the grind”. Basically speaking, the current incarnation of trade skills is needlessly limiting, clunky and lacks scope; essentially, you’re really only making one decision and that’s your crafting skill.
Okay, quick resume – there are three forms of trade skills in the game, and you choose one of each (14 trade skills in total):
Crafting: Crafting skills are relatively obvious, as they use materials to “craft” things that can be used by players. Synthweaving, artifice, armstech, armormech, cybertech and biochem fall into this category.
Gathering: Gathering skills, funnily enough, provide those necessary materials that your crafting skill requires. Scavenging, bioanalysis and slicing are your gathering skills.
Mission: Mission skills provide specific materials that complement gathering, as well as craft patterns and companion gifts. These include diplomacy, treasure hunting, investigation, archaeology and underworld trading.
The problem is that, when push comes to shove, your gathering and mission choices are dictated by your crafting choice because it’s just too unwieldy to try and level otherwise, thanks to your companions doing the significant majority of your gathering. I wanted to take Biochem, and that essentially shoved me into Bioanalysis so that I can get the materials to level the former. If I want to make proper use of reverse engineering and get prototype plans that my characters can actually make use of, I need the medical supplies provided by Diplomacy.
So that’s me. If I want to take Biochem as my crafting profession, Bioanalysis and Diplomacy are the necessary options to go with it. All of the possible combinations available from fourteen trade skills end up boiled down into one of six. This is compounded by the fact that you can’t take more than one crafting skill, so taking a gathering one that doesn’t complement it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. What makes this particularly clunky is that your companions get certain bonuses to trade skills, and you have no control over what these bonuses are and how much help they’ll provide as you level.
Ugh.
What we have is a convenient system, with one real choice to make and no actual gameplay involved in levelling it. Let’s go about changing that without breaking this convenience many players appreciate.
First of all, we need to move away from limiting players to only one crafting skill. If they want the GTN method of levelling synthweaving as well as biochem, with all of the accompanying financial heartache, that should be up to the player. Let’s not forget that you could easily use an alternative character to make this more manageable, so it’s not all doom and gloom. The fact is that there is literally no reason to limit players in this way – it doesn’t achieve anything.
Equally, if a player wants to take a couple of gathering skills then they should be allowed to. They may be guild material flunkies (which is fine), or they may want to use those skills to earn themselves credits in a way that doesn’t involve dailies or PvP.
Secondly, I would allow players to level all of the mission trade skills. In the way World of Warcraft has separated primary professions and secondary professions, crafting and gathering should be primary trade skills while the player should be allowed to level every secondary trade skill they fancy. This allows players more options in what they want to level, stops shoehorning them into taking the “correct” mission skill, and gives them access to every mission quest drop that appears (rather than cursing the underworld trading drop that they had to give away).
Essentially, I dislike the game making the choices for me. It’s pointlessly restrictive, and stops any “gaming” of trade skills from taking place. What I’ve just described gives players the opportunity to do as much or as little of the trade skill content that they want, without having to really do any of it.
But making these relatively minor changes brings us to what World of Warcraft has. What can we do to actually make it better and more fun?
First of all, I’d start with allowing players to specialise again. This is especially true in Star Wars, where the system already splits your crafting trade skill into sections to make it more manageable. When you cap a profession, either a mission terminal or the game itself can lead you to where a specialised crafter will help you to go down a specific route. For biochem, I have the choice of going with adrenals for combat performance, stimulants for convenience, medpacs for survivability and implants for a little more gear. The beauty here is that your mission trade skills could play a part in this, finding specific patterns that allow you to move down each route. Sticking with my own example, I’ve managed to pick up a set of Rakata adrenals, stimulants and medpacs that are very powerful; perhaps too powerful. Rather than guaranteeing these powerful items for next to no effort on the part of the player, why not limit them to specialisations that reward a bit of effort and aren’t quite so easy to thrash out which is technically “better”.
Of course, let’s not forget that the Rakata items require raid drops to create. Why? Yet again, a full list of mission trade skills could work together in order to create that specific item, then see it incorporated into powerful results for dedicated crafters. It’s silly that a player must raid in order to complete his trade skill items, when said items are not solely useful for raids.
Right, this is already getting a bit long. I’m going to cut this one here in order to make it more readable, and update during the week to pour everything I’d do with professions and trade skills onto these pages.
Stay tuned. o/
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Subscriptions a thing of the past?
Not much to add to this really, other than linking the video and asking you to watch it (assuming you haven't already come across this one).
I'm not going out on a limb and saying "by golly, he's right!" That would be pointless.
But it's still worth asking yourself if a tenner a month is worth it for what you're getting.
Ultimately, it's up to you. It has no real impact on me playing SW:TOR in the near future, but there's no doubt that Guild Wars 2 could well herald the end of this use of gaming developers as business cash-cows.
For that reason alone, I hope Guild Wars 2 works.
And, yes - I'll be playing it.
I'm not going out on a limb and saying "by golly, he's right!" That would be pointless.
But it's still worth asking yourself if a tenner a month is worth it for what you're getting.
Ultimately, it's up to you. It has no real impact on me playing SW:TOR in the near future, but there's no doubt that Guild Wars 2 could well herald the end of this use of gaming developers as business cash-cows.
For that reason alone, I hope Guild Wars 2 works.
And, yes - I'll be playing it.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Destiny of the Apprentice (Fiction/RP).
Finishing a holocall with the Hand was always emotionally stimulating one way or the other; and truthfully, it was a toss up as to which it was. It would either finish with my blood pumping an incredible smile to my face, or my feet stealing all my attention thanks to abject disappointment. As the Emperor’s Wrath, it wasn’t at all uncommon to speak to the Hand about opportunities to incite another bloodbath. Unfortunately, it was far too common that such tasks would be allocated to a less-talented Sith who merely happened to be nearer to the site. As I often did after just such a let down, I fell back into one of my seats, closed my eyes, and did my best to block out 2V-R8’s incessant attempts to canvas my opinion on the best shade of black for my new bed sheets.
I’m not sure how long I sat there before a very different noise to vacuous droid chatter corrected my slouch. It wasn’t much more than a faint series of taps, but they did appear to be speeding up and becoming more agitated. Having gotten past my erstwhile dozing, it was relatively obvious that it was the never-ending procession of Jaesa pacing up and down the Fury. Gifted, talented and diabolical all in one, she wasn’t quite so good at being conspicuous around the ship. That said, having her around helped to keep my own focus sharp and training her in the Dark Side was almost effortless. Once more, however, it appeared that her emotions had agitated her to the point of distraction and she’d need to vent pretty soon. Given the fact that the other recipient would likely be Quinn, and that 2V-R8 must have had better things to do than clean up, I got to my feet and marched to the infirmary.
Jaesa Willsaam was a delight. Formerly a stunted and harnessed Jedi with one great power, she’s now an unleashed Sith of many talents. The pleasure she takes in mayhem radiates with an intensity that practically bowls me over. The problem with removing the plug on long-repressed emotions is that making sense of them all at once isn’t easy for one so young. I never really figured out why she liked the infirmary so much but, according to her, she finds clarity in the vicinity of equipment that mends the wounds she loves to inflict. I suppose knowing the limitations of modern medical supplies is a good combat guide. Before I’d even gotten through the door, that familiar greeting was past her lips.
“Master.”
It was as much a question as a greeting, as was usually the case. An acknowledgement of my presence and the pretext for the current contents of her head all rolled into one. Jaesa wasn’t really into wasted motion when people could be dying instead. I smiled.
“Hello, Jaesa – you seem… Agitated.”
“Yes, master. As you know, my commitment to the Empire, and to you, is absolute. My loyalty is beyond question and I appreciate that what I’m about to ask could undermine those two facts. That being said, I feel I have to bring this up.”
Okay, so it was an issue of where her loyalties lay. This could be interesting.
“You are now, as you have always been, free to speak your mind. As your master, it’s my job to assuage your concerns as best I can.”
“Why do we Sith kill each other?!”
She blurted it out so fast I had to rerun it in my head.
“I mean, I understand that the weak must fall to allow the strong to rise. I also understand that ambition is a noble trait and one that should be nurtured. But if the Empire wants to rise and dominate the galaxy, I worry that this type of behaviour is self-defeating. Worse, I cannot resolve my feelings for you with the common… Dissolution of the master-apprentice relationship.”
Jaesa was a smart girl, but often confused by her conflicting emotions thanks to time spent as a Jedi padawan. Sometimes, her problems merely dissolved once she identified them as the result of a skewed moral compass. This was different, though. This was fundamental. She won’t believe what she’s told unless she can resolve it herself. I had to be careful.
“Tell me, Jaesa” I began. “Do you want your apprenticeship to end with my death?”
“No, master!” she cried. “Of course not!”
“Do you believe you could defeat me?”
“No, master. Not at all”. There was no shame or resignation in this admission, she understood that her training was still in its infancy; hence her asking this question in the first place.
“That is why you are an apprentice, Jaesa. Without the belief that you can be your own master, accompanied by the strength to make it so, you cannot become a Sith Lord.”
Jaesa, luckily, was a very sharp girl and was onto the implication in a hearbeat.
“But none of that revolves around your death! I can build the belief of self-mastery over time, I can build it through training and through experience. Surely by serving you with power and grace I can ascend to reach my potential?”
“Yes, you can” I mused. “But there comes a time when only absolute proof will suffice. Our minds are not set for concepts such as dominance and cooperation to exist together. In the end, the question of whether or not you can become your own master will start to ask itself more and more forcefully. Either you try to live with the constant companion of self-doubt and weaken yourself doing so, or you choose to end our relationship in a… Disagreement.”
Truthfully, I knew this topic was going to come up eventually; it always does. Equally, I was more than aware of the impact it would have on Jaesa. Nevertheless, neither of those two facts made it any easier seeing the light in her eyes dim just a little.
“I don’t want to kill you” she whispered.
One pace forward was all I needed to take in order to put a hand on her shoulder and force her eyes into mine. “Come with me” was the simple order I gave her and, as always, her back straightened with pride as we marched to the front of the Fury and I sat her down looking out into the galaxy.
“Tell me what you see, Jaesa”.
Her eyes went straight out to the stars, got lost for a moment, then refocused on mine.
“Opportunity” she said wilfully. “The vast reaches of the galaxy give us the opportunity to be more than what we are. Each star houses its own system of planets for us to travel to, explore and conquer. Each new system develops my skills and expands the Empire until, finally, we claim ownership of the whole galaxy and relegate the Republic to a historical footnote”.
I could barely have said it better myself. Not only was Jaesa bright, she was insightful.
“Why do you want to help the Empire claim ownership of the galaxy?” I asked.
“Truthfully? Because the Empire encourages me to be myself rather than a reined-in emotionless attack dog. It gives me the opportunity to live my life in a way I could not in the Republic, a way that makes me the strongest I can be by constantly testing my power and developing my experience. I don’t just mean that in a combat sense, master, but also in a living sense. I enjoy the pleasures of the galaxy, and take heart in the fun of vices. The extremes of love and hate give me an internal measure of why life matters to me, as well as an appreciation of just what those extremes are. Without the most intense love for something, even fleeting, I will not comprehend the fiercest hatred; the hatred that drives me to excel beyond what the Jedi shackled me with. Master, what I’m trying to say, is this; I serve the Empire so loyally because the Empire serves me.”
Such honesty was rare for a Sith, but it was something I encouraged in Jaesa. The constant lies and deceit of politics led only to a never ending series of looks over ones shoulder to ensure loose ends had been tied up. Of course, even the tightest of knots can untie over time and honesty simply removes the need to hide behind anything. With no hiding place, we are free to be ourselves without restraint. But this moment in time was absolutely vital – Jaesa HAD to understand before the moment passed.
“The Empire can only expand through the power of the Sith” I began. “Nothing else will suffice, as our enemies across the galaxy are powerful. With that in mind, I’m sure you understand the need for strength”.
“Of course, master”.
“It’s important to note that one Sith is worth more than a hundred Imperial troops. In the same sense, one powerful Sith is better than five that are weak. Again, I assume you understand this”.
“Of course, master” she sighed. “What I cannot understand is why strong Sith die by the sound of their apprentice’s lightsaber, when they could well help to win the conflicts we are involved in”.
“Then there is one fact that escapes you, Jaesa”. Her eyes were locked on mine, appreciating that she was about to hear something important. “There is one fact that links the two together, the fact that justifies all that we do and promotes the societal ideals of the Sith”.
Jaesa whispered.
“What, master?”
“Every single being in this galaxy, every Imperial soldier, every beast, every general, every Jedi and every Sith… We all share something in common”.
“Yes, master?”
“We are all going to die, Jaesa.”
She looked downcast at first, as if the obviousness of this information had defied my building up. But then, just a little, realisation started to cross her young features.
“Nothing lives forever, my apprentice, absolutely nothing. Time is the greatest leveller across the galaxy and nothing will escape its reaches forever. We try, oh we try. But immortality is a pointless crusade. All of those moments you described earlier, those moments of pleasure and pain that you cherish, they all merge into a miasma of meaninglessness when your opportunity to repeat them is infinite. Moments are special precisely because they may be our last, they may be the only moments of their type we ever experience. The galaxy is beautiful because we may never see it again, and the mystery of it remains enticing because we will never solve it.”
“I love my life because it’s precious” she whispered, the light in her eyes starting to flicker back into life. “It’s the only one I have”.
“Tell me, Jaesa, what is the first line of the Sith Code?”
“Peace is a lie; there is only passion” she answered softly.
“Your life, your single life, would be devoid of passion if it was not destined to end. Your emotions are fuelled by knowing that each act you perform will force an immortality of sorts into the minds of those you encounter. Only passionate and meaningful acts will suffice, individual shows of power and poise that burn your memory across the stars. This is our immortality, apprentice. What we leave behind. But do you know what a Sith Lord leaves behind, Jaesa, the one thing that can impact the galaxy more than a mere memory?”
She understood. This moment had come, as it had to, and had been met with success. Jaesa said nothing at first, but stood up straight and slowly put her right palm into the centre of her chest.
“Me.”
“That’s right. A Sith Lord leaves behind their apprentice, as powerful as that Lord can make them. This is why you are subject to the harshest tests, the harshest punishments and why failure will cost you your life. If all I can leave behind is you, you will be as powerful, as meaningful and as passionate as I can make you.”
The Dark Side was starting to pump in her veins again, flowing through her as it had when she first took her place as my apprentice. Now, as then, her purpose had been sharpened to a point where nothing was clearer. I locked her gaze onto mine.
“The Sith is not a mindless order of self-defeating butchers, but a carefully selected and culled fraternity of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. Your innate abilities will be brought on by your training, but you will also partake of everything I have learned so that you can be my better. If I train you to be equal to or weaker than me, then I leave only disservice and shame behind when my light inevitably expires. But if I give you everything I can, all my knowledge and all my passion, then I leave behind something greater than myself, something that can impact the galaxy beyond what I was capable of in my own time. How will I know I have achieved this before I die, Jaesa? What will prove that you are my better and that the legacy I leave is stronger than the one I received?”
The fire that had gone from her eyes was back as she answered.
“Just as I will only know the potential of my future by defeating you, you can only know the strength of your past by tasting defeat at my hands”.
“Exactly, Jaesa” I proclaimed with pride. “I don’t wish to die of old age, or in ignominy. When a master dies at the hands of their apprentice, when I die at yours, it will not be a tragedy; it will be my honour”.
As I looked at my young apprentice, all doubt dispersed, I swear I’d never seen those eyes of hers as bright or as fiercely determined as they were right then.
“First things first, though” I quickly chided. “You have a long way to go before you earn the right to succeed me”.
A swift nod and a knowing smile was the only response needed.
I’m not sure how long I sat there before a very different noise to vacuous droid chatter corrected my slouch. It wasn’t much more than a faint series of taps, but they did appear to be speeding up and becoming more agitated. Having gotten past my erstwhile dozing, it was relatively obvious that it was the never-ending procession of Jaesa pacing up and down the Fury. Gifted, talented and diabolical all in one, she wasn’t quite so good at being conspicuous around the ship. That said, having her around helped to keep my own focus sharp and training her in the Dark Side was almost effortless. Once more, however, it appeared that her emotions had agitated her to the point of distraction and she’d need to vent pretty soon. Given the fact that the other recipient would likely be Quinn, and that 2V-R8 must have had better things to do than clean up, I got to my feet and marched to the infirmary.
Jaesa Willsaam was a delight. Formerly a stunted and harnessed Jedi with one great power, she’s now an unleashed Sith of many talents. The pleasure she takes in mayhem radiates with an intensity that practically bowls me over. The problem with removing the plug on long-repressed emotions is that making sense of them all at once isn’t easy for one so young. I never really figured out why she liked the infirmary so much but, according to her, she finds clarity in the vicinity of equipment that mends the wounds she loves to inflict. I suppose knowing the limitations of modern medical supplies is a good combat guide. Before I’d even gotten through the door, that familiar greeting was past her lips.
“Master.”
It was as much a question as a greeting, as was usually the case. An acknowledgement of my presence and the pretext for the current contents of her head all rolled into one. Jaesa wasn’t really into wasted motion when people could be dying instead. I smiled.
“Hello, Jaesa – you seem… Agitated.”
“Yes, master. As you know, my commitment to the Empire, and to you, is absolute. My loyalty is beyond question and I appreciate that what I’m about to ask could undermine those two facts. That being said, I feel I have to bring this up.”
Okay, so it was an issue of where her loyalties lay. This could be interesting.
“You are now, as you have always been, free to speak your mind. As your master, it’s my job to assuage your concerns as best I can.”
“Why do we Sith kill each other?!”
She blurted it out so fast I had to rerun it in my head.
“I mean, I understand that the weak must fall to allow the strong to rise. I also understand that ambition is a noble trait and one that should be nurtured. But if the Empire wants to rise and dominate the galaxy, I worry that this type of behaviour is self-defeating. Worse, I cannot resolve my feelings for you with the common… Dissolution of the master-apprentice relationship.”
Jaesa was a smart girl, but often confused by her conflicting emotions thanks to time spent as a Jedi padawan. Sometimes, her problems merely dissolved once she identified them as the result of a skewed moral compass. This was different, though. This was fundamental. She won’t believe what she’s told unless she can resolve it herself. I had to be careful.
“Tell me, Jaesa” I began. “Do you want your apprenticeship to end with my death?”
“No, master!” she cried. “Of course not!”
“Do you believe you could defeat me?”
“No, master. Not at all”. There was no shame or resignation in this admission, she understood that her training was still in its infancy; hence her asking this question in the first place.
“That is why you are an apprentice, Jaesa. Without the belief that you can be your own master, accompanied by the strength to make it so, you cannot become a Sith Lord.”
Jaesa, luckily, was a very sharp girl and was onto the implication in a hearbeat.
“But none of that revolves around your death! I can build the belief of self-mastery over time, I can build it through training and through experience. Surely by serving you with power and grace I can ascend to reach my potential?”
“Yes, you can” I mused. “But there comes a time when only absolute proof will suffice. Our minds are not set for concepts such as dominance and cooperation to exist together. In the end, the question of whether or not you can become your own master will start to ask itself more and more forcefully. Either you try to live with the constant companion of self-doubt and weaken yourself doing so, or you choose to end our relationship in a… Disagreement.”
Truthfully, I knew this topic was going to come up eventually; it always does. Equally, I was more than aware of the impact it would have on Jaesa. Nevertheless, neither of those two facts made it any easier seeing the light in her eyes dim just a little.
“I don’t want to kill you” she whispered.
One pace forward was all I needed to take in order to put a hand on her shoulder and force her eyes into mine. “Come with me” was the simple order I gave her and, as always, her back straightened with pride as we marched to the front of the Fury and I sat her down looking out into the galaxy.
“Tell me what you see, Jaesa”.
Her eyes went straight out to the stars, got lost for a moment, then refocused on mine.
“Opportunity” she said wilfully. “The vast reaches of the galaxy give us the opportunity to be more than what we are. Each star houses its own system of planets for us to travel to, explore and conquer. Each new system develops my skills and expands the Empire until, finally, we claim ownership of the whole galaxy and relegate the Republic to a historical footnote”.
I could barely have said it better myself. Not only was Jaesa bright, she was insightful.
“Why do you want to help the Empire claim ownership of the galaxy?” I asked.
“Truthfully? Because the Empire encourages me to be myself rather than a reined-in emotionless attack dog. It gives me the opportunity to live my life in a way I could not in the Republic, a way that makes me the strongest I can be by constantly testing my power and developing my experience. I don’t just mean that in a combat sense, master, but also in a living sense. I enjoy the pleasures of the galaxy, and take heart in the fun of vices. The extremes of love and hate give me an internal measure of why life matters to me, as well as an appreciation of just what those extremes are. Without the most intense love for something, even fleeting, I will not comprehend the fiercest hatred; the hatred that drives me to excel beyond what the Jedi shackled me with. Master, what I’m trying to say, is this; I serve the Empire so loyally because the Empire serves me.”
Such honesty was rare for a Sith, but it was something I encouraged in Jaesa. The constant lies and deceit of politics led only to a never ending series of looks over ones shoulder to ensure loose ends had been tied up. Of course, even the tightest of knots can untie over time and honesty simply removes the need to hide behind anything. With no hiding place, we are free to be ourselves without restraint. But this moment in time was absolutely vital – Jaesa HAD to understand before the moment passed.
“The Empire can only expand through the power of the Sith” I began. “Nothing else will suffice, as our enemies across the galaxy are powerful. With that in mind, I’m sure you understand the need for strength”.
“Of course, master”.
“It’s important to note that one Sith is worth more than a hundred Imperial troops. In the same sense, one powerful Sith is better than five that are weak. Again, I assume you understand this”.
“Of course, master” she sighed. “What I cannot understand is why strong Sith die by the sound of their apprentice’s lightsaber, when they could well help to win the conflicts we are involved in”.
“Then there is one fact that escapes you, Jaesa”. Her eyes were locked on mine, appreciating that she was about to hear something important. “There is one fact that links the two together, the fact that justifies all that we do and promotes the societal ideals of the Sith”.
Jaesa whispered.
“What, master?”
“Every single being in this galaxy, every Imperial soldier, every beast, every general, every Jedi and every Sith… We all share something in common”.
“Yes, master?”
“We are all going to die, Jaesa.”
She looked downcast at first, as if the obviousness of this information had defied my building up. But then, just a little, realisation started to cross her young features.
“Nothing lives forever, my apprentice, absolutely nothing. Time is the greatest leveller across the galaxy and nothing will escape its reaches forever. We try, oh we try. But immortality is a pointless crusade. All of those moments you described earlier, those moments of pleasure and pain that you cherish, they all merge into a miasma of meaninglessness when your opportunity to repeat them is infinite. Moments are special precisely because they may be our last, they may be the only moments of their type we ever experience. The galaxy is beautiful because we may never see it again, and the mystery of it remains enticing because we will never solve it.”
“I love my life because it’s precious” she whispered, the light in her eyes starting to flicker back into life. “It’s the only one I have”.
“Tell me, Jaesa, what is the first line of the Sith Code?”
“Peace is a lie; there is only passion” she answered softly.
“Your life, your single life, would be devoid of passion if it was not destined to end. Your emotions are fuelled by knowing that each act you perform will force an immortality of sorts into the minds of those you encounter. Only passionate and meaningful acts will suffice, individual shows of power and poise that burn your memory across the stars. This is our immortality, apprentice. What we leave behind. But do you know what a Sith Lord leaves behind, Jaesa, the one thing that can impact the galaxy more than a mere memory?”
She understood. This moment had come, as it had to, and had been met with success. Jaesa said nothing at first, but stood up straight and slowly put her right palm into the centre of her chest.
“Me.”
“That’s right. A Sith Lord leaves behind their apprentice, as powerful as that Lord can make them. This is why you are subject to the harshest tests, the harshest punishments and why failure will cost you your life. If all I can leave behind is you, you will be as powerful, as meaningful and as passionate as I can make you.”
The Dark Side was starting to pump in her veins again, flowing through her as it had when she first took her place as my apprentice. Now, as then, her purpose had been sharpened to a point where nothing was clearer. I locked her gaze onto mine.
“The Sith is not a mindless order of self-defeating butchers, but a carefully selected and culled fraternity of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. Your innate abilities will be brought on by your training, but you will also partake of everything I have learned so that you can be my better. If I train you to be equal to or weaker than me, then I leave only disservice and shame behind when my light inevitably expires. But if I give you everything I can, all my knowledge and all my passion, then I leave behind something greater than myself, something that can impact the galaxy beyond what I was capable of in my own time. How will I know I have achieved this before I die, Jaesa? What will prove that you are my better and that the legacy I leave is stronger than the one I received?”
The fire that had gone from her eyes was back as she answered.
“Just as I will only know the potential of my future by defeating you, you can only know the strength of your past by tasting defeat at my hands”.
“Exactly, Jaesa” I proclaimed with pride. “I don’t wish to die of old age, or in ignominy. When a master dies at the hands of their apprentice, when I die at yours, it will not be a tragedy; it will be my honour”.
As I looked at my young apprentice, all doubt dispersed, I swear I’d never seen those eyes of hers as bright or as fiercely determined as they were right then.
“First things first, though” I quickly chided. “You have a long way to go before you earn the right to succeed me”.
A swift nod and a knowing smile was the only response needed.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Crafting AS endgame - why not?
I must admit, I lament losing the profession ethic that existed during The Burning Crusade. The decision to gut professions to the area of pointlessness, just to balance them, was one of the most upsetting decisions ever made by the current derp-elopment team on Blizzard’s jabberwocky, World of Warcraft. Gathering professions are always a bit dull, but there was real depth to the crafting game of blacksmithing, leatherworking, enchanting, tailoring and jewelcrafting.
Not only were there rare patterns and plans to go after for the completion-orientated among us, you could specialise in your art to gain access to patterns that only the crafter could make use of. Add to this the ability to upgrade some of your work rather than just wasting it and you’ve got the basis of a very, VERY good profession system that, truthfully, was almost universally good and still had loads of room for iteration and improvement.
For my part, I was a Master Swordsmith (and I even enjoyed the quests to achieve this; the Shadowmoon Valley line for the Illidari blade was also a blast) and I’m comfortable admitting that one of the major draws of the game for me was hitting 375 with my blacksmithing and learning as many plans as I could. I wanted to be that “one-stop shop” for all my guild’s blacksmithing needs.
Then Ghostcrawler and his cronies took the reins and professions, much like everything else in the game, had their trajectory changed to directly relate to endgame performance. Rather than being developed as an enjoyable and fun avenue for those less interested in raiding or PvP, the specializations and customization were removed and they were all balanced in accordance with the stats they could give your character.
“With great power comes great responsibility”. What a shame Azeroth’s current main men saw fit to change that immortal line to: “from great potential, to great failure”. Just for good measure, a heavy dose of RNG gets lumped into any worthwhile crafts thanks to random drops or spawns of certain necessary materials.
Yuck.
It’s with great trepidation, therefore, that we approach Star Wars: The Old Republic and BioWare’s interpretation of what professions (trade skills) should look like. I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting all that much from trade skills considering the direction BioWare have taken with a lot of the game’s features, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised. Last night I managed to hit 400 on Biochem, Bioanalysis and Investigation; I found it to be a fairly streamlined experience, one that I managed to cap out pretty easily with a good degree of clarity throughout.
The cool thing about trade skills is that you can keep yourself up to date easily with the necessary materials, reverse engineering means those materials go further, and the finding of prototype plans is a nice developmental addition. The fact that you can send your crew to do the dirty work (leaving you to actually play the game), helps this along immensely and removes the tedious grind associated with gathering. The way the materials are ranked also makes it very simple for your companions to be assigned to the right missions, rather than just guessing that they’re spending their time picking up the right stuff.
It’s fair to say I hit the trade skill cap pretty much accidentally which, though proving the system is frustration-free, is the biggest problem I have with it.
I want a crafting system that I can play.
Endgame development for Warcraft professions is tied into raiding. Who’d have thought it? You kill a few bosses and you hope the patterns you need drop (they rarely do). Let’s have a little more RNG with our RNG. Endgame development for Star Wars is practically a 180 degree turn, an effort to remove the RNG and make trade skills far more methodical and formulaic. Essentially, should you want a better version of something specific, you need only make a good number of said items and reverse engineer them for a prototype. Naturally there are some random patterns that can be picked up in boxes/security chests or via other gathering trade skills such as Investigation, Diplomacy or Underworld Trading. But all in all, you know what you’re getting.
Essentially, BioWare have taken the Cataclysm (and latter Wrath of the Lich King) profession system and improved it. They’ve ditched the grind, jettisoned the RNG, made gathering far clearer and found a way to make better use of crafts that would otherwise find their way to the auction house or a vendor.
My gripe is that trade skills could have been so much more, with BioWare’s version of crafting being utterly eclipsed by what we enjoyed in Outland. I’d rather trade skills stopped being a bonus for “real” endgame content and were, instead, their own form of endgame. If you ask a current level cap player what he is in World of Warcraft, you’ll probably get a “lol” from someone who doesn’t understand the question properly. In bygone days they’d be a dungeoneer, a raider, a PvP player, a quest hunter, a collector or a crafter. Nowadays the choice is down to raider or PvP player because everything else is aimed at those two activities (more squarely raiding). The alternative is a series of pointless minigames that have no impact on the larger game world whatsoever.
What’s worrying for MMORPG’s as a genre is the way Blizzard has forced all developers to think. I know this sounds damning and I could be overreacting, but I get the impression that the availability of raids is what everyone is attributing Blizzard’s success to and the more typical MMO staples are being overlooked as a result. Because BioWare has revolutionised MMORPG questing, I had hoped to see them manage something similar with trade skills. I suppose we should be amazed at them defying the impossible and somehow managing to polish a turd, but I’m still feeling a little empty. The goal is to take the frustration out of trade skills, but provide a crafting experience that’s fun, is endgame content in itself, and has a meaningful impact on the rest of the game as a whole.
Despite all of these negatives, there is one overwhelming positive; the potential is there to make trade skills viable endgame without too much internal/code iteration.
My next post will detail how I’d go about this but, for now, how do you think it should be done? Of course, just as importantly, should we even bother about it?
Not only were there rare patterns and plans to go after for the completion-orientated among us, you could specialise in your art to gain access to patterns that only the crafter could make use of. Add to this the ability to upgrade some of your work rather than just wasting it and you’ve got the basis of a very, VERY good profession system that, truthfully, was almost universally good and still had loads of room for iteration and improvement.
For my part, I was a Master Swordsmith (and I even enjoyed the quests to achieve this; the Shadowmoon Valley line for the Illidari blade was also a blast) and I’m comfortable admitting that one of the major draws of the game for me was hitting 375 with my blacksmithing and learning as many plans as I could. I wanted to be that “one-stop shop” for all my guild’s blacksmithing needs.
Then Ghostcrawler and his cronies took the reins and professions, much like everything else in the game, had their trajectory changed to directly relate to endgame performance. Rather than being developed as an enjoyable and fun avenue for those less interested in raiding or PvP, the specializations and customization were removed and they were all balanced in accordance with the stats they could give your character.
“With great power comes great responsibility”. What a shame Azeroth’s current main men saw fit to change that immortal line to: “from great potential, to great failure”. Just for good measure, a heavy dose of RNG gets lumped into any worthwhile crafts thanks to random drops or spawns of certain necessary materials.
Yuck.
It’s with great trepidation, therefore, that we approach Star Wars: The Old Republic and BioWare’s interpretation of what professions (trade skills) should look like. I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting all that much from trade skills considering the direction BioWare have taken with a lot of the game’s features, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised. Last night I managed to hit 400 on Biochem, Bioanalysis and Investigation; I found it to be a fairly streamlined experience, one that I managed to cap out pretty easily with a good degree of clarity throughout.
The cool thing about trade skills is that you can keep yourself up to date easily with the necessary materials, reverse engineering means those materials go further, and the finding of prototype plans is a nice developmental addition. The fact that you can send your crew to do the dirty work (leaving you to actually play the game), helps this along immensely and removes the tedious grind associated with gathering. The way the materials are ranked also makes it very simple for your companions to be assigned to the right missions, rather than just guessing that they’re spending their time picking up the right stuff.
It’s fair to say I hit the trade skill cap pretty much accidentally which, though proving the system is frustration-free, is the biggest problem I have with it.
I want a crafting system that I can play.
Endgame development for Warcraft professions is tied into raiding. Who’d have thought it? You kill a few bosses and you hope the patterns you need drop (they rarely do). Let’s have a little more RNG with our RNG. Endgame development for Star Wars is practically a 180 degree turn, an effort to remove the RNG and make trade skills far more methodical and formulaic. Essentially, should you want a better version of something specific, you need only make a good number of said items and reverse engineer them for a prototype. Naturally there are some random patterns that can be picked up in boxes/security chests or via other gathering trade skills such as Investigation, Diplomacy or Underworld Trading. But all in all, you know what you’re getting.
Essentially, BioWare have taken the Cataclysm (and latter Wrath of the Lich King) profession system and improved it. They’ve ditched the grind, jettisoned the RNG, made gathering far clearer and found a way to make better use of crafts that would otherwise find their way to the auction house or a vendor.
My gripe is that trade skills could have been so much more, with BioWare’s version of crafting being utterly eclipsed by what we enjoyed in Outland. I’d rather trade skills stopped being a bonus for “real” endgame content and were, instead, their own form of endgame. If you ask a current level cap player what he is in World of Warcraft, you’ll probably get a “lol” from someone who doesn’t understand the question properly. In bygone days they’d be a dungeoneer, a raider, a PvP player, a quest hunter, a collector or a crafter. Nowadays the choice is down to raider or PvP player because everything else is aimed at those two activities (more squarely raiding). The alternative is a series of pointless minigames that have no impact on the larger game world whatsoever.
What’s worrying for MMORPG’s as a genre is the way Blizzard has forced all developers to think. I know this sounds damning and I could be overreacting, but I get the impression that the availability of raids is what everyone is attributing Blizzard’s success to and the more typical MMO staples are being overlooked as a result. Because BioWare has revolutionised MMORPG questing, I had hoped to see them manage something similar with trade skills. I suppose we should be amazed at them defying the impossible and somehow managing to polish a turd, but I’m still feeling a little empty. The goal is to take the frustration out of trade skills, but provide a crafting experience that’s fun, is endgame content in itself, and has a meaningful impact on the rest of the game as a whole.
Despite all of these negatives, there is one overwhelming positive; the potential is there to make trade skills viable endgame without too much internal/code iteration.
My next post will detail how I’d go about this but, for now, how do you think it should be done? Of course, just as importantly, should we even bother about it?
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Skill development and tutorials; an opportunity missed?
[Recently came across this: http://penny-arcade.com/patv/episode/easy-games]
In-game tutorials are a funny, if often maligned, part of playing an RPG or video game. In my experience, they rarely last longer than five to ten levels, which typically lasts about half an hour; this is assuming they didn’t annoy you and get themselves turned off almost immediately for being too obstructive while you were trying to play.
The problem with MMORPG’s, of course, is that a tutorial covering how one plays in the company of others could have many potential pitfalls. That said, it’s inherently feasible to set up staged instances that introduce group dynamics via NPC’s and scripted encounters. In a world where group play is becoming more and more convoluted (as well as more and more dominant), it seems strange that the prior preparation for it should be so abject. What consolidates this problem is that fact that “tutorials” never actually deal with game mechanics, instead focussing on aspects of the user interface.
Useless.
A criticism often levelled at Blizzard’s Cataclsym expansion for World of Warcraft is the complete lack of challenge during the levelling process. I would happily admit that I’m one of the people disturbed by this, particularly the removal of any grouping requirements.
For those unfamiliar with it, a huge amount of resources were spent recreating the original world of six years in order to bring it up to date. Thousands of new quests were designed, many zones changed their layout somewhat and the entire experience was retuned to shoehorn the challenge out of it. Any grouping requirements were jettisoned, a queue was introduced for watered-down dungeoneering and the player characters were significantly increased in power straight from the off.
What this did was streamline levelling to get players to the level cap as quickly and painlessly as possible. That was the intention, so it did what it set out to do. What it also did, unfortunately, was remove the opportunity for players to learn the game as they worked through the levels. It’s no exaggeration to say that World of Warcraft isn’t really a game any more, rather a social hub of mini-games with no real attachment to one another. The best raider in the world may be useless at player versus player content, while the best player in the arena might be a terribly inefficient leveller. No one aspect of the game seems to relate to another, and this has shoved the player base further apart. Those who are willing to use external sources such as Internet forums or video guides are now at a skill level far higher than ever seen before, while those who develop solely in game are the worst players Azeroth has ever seen at the level cap because they are completely unprepared for the content.
Then enters SW:TOR.
As far as concerns me, SW:TOR has absolutely revolutionised the questing scene from World of Warcraft, in much the same way the latter did from games like EverQuest. Not only did single-player quests become more challenging again, the story-driven quests develop the character as well as the player by introducing particularly powerful single enemies that can require the whole shebang of your abilities to defeat. When this is added to heroic group quests and the introduction of companions that all fill different roles, you’re looking at a far more developmental levelling process that actually feels like it’s part of a complete game (with no insidious queue system to haphazardly promote disassociation). This is consolidated by the fact that certain powerful enemies introduced in your class quests become markedly easier depending on the companion you use. As a Sith warrior, I have three companions that I generally trot out; a tank (Lt Pierce), a damage dealer (Jaesa) and a healer (Quinn). Depending on what the enemy does, I could use any of the three in order to best combat it (I’m deliberately leaving out the droid, Vette and Broonmark for ease of reference).
As superior as the SW:TOR questing system is, for me, it just doesn’t go far enough. If feels like that stage in the kitchen before you cook a meal; all the ingredients are on the table, but you haven’t quite baked the cake yet. Everything is in place to go that one step further… And the game doesn’t quite take it.
I’m talking about a quest-driven developmental tutorial that teaches NEW players how their own class performs, and about how roles are designated for group content.
Don’t forget that I already KNOW what roles my companions fill. I know what a “tank” is, I know what a “healer” is. I know this thanks to prior experience in other MMORPG’s. The point is that players who are new to group-games (and MMO’s of this type in particular) will not know what these terms mean; they won’t have an understanding of the roles and what job each role does. And while SW:TOR is an almost perfect example of the scene being set, it only really went as far as putting everything in place.
I’ll paint you an example.
When it comes to raiding, not much is more important than not standing in the fire. The term has survived through thick and thin, becoming ingrained into the head of everyone who’s ever tried to take down challenging bosses in group content. SW:TOR does a great job of introducing players to this as there are many, MANY enemies who have an area of effect attack as part of their arsenal. Roughly speaking, the player can see the circle on the ground and, if it’s not cast by them, they soon figure out that standing in it isn’t very good.
Let’s take this a stage further.
Another important aspect of group content is the ability to interrupt certain powerful abilities. This could be introduced in the form of a combat quest where the final antagonist has a particular attack, described by the quest giver, that needs interrupted else you’ll be wearing this nuke.
“Remember, Sith, if Lord Buttmonkey is allowed those few seconds to charge his lightsaber, the results will be messy. Disrupt him at all costs!”
This immediately puts the idea into the players head that if they don’t stop this particular attack, they’re going to end up dead. Such a quest can come in the story not long after the ability (in this case, Disruption) has been learned, meaning the tutorial doesn’t end at level 5 – it can continue to level 45 if the developers wish.
Other examples of PvE mechanics that are dangerous and somewhat universal are things like cleaves, tail swipes or unavoidable nukes.
”He brutally swings that club in a wide arc; don’t stand in front of him!”
“The tail is a powerful weapon on these creatures, don’t be another victim!”
“Protected in a Force bubble, you cannot stop the Lightning – you must lessen its impact somehow!”
BioWare have created the PERFECT opportunity for this type of development to take place in their class-dependent instanced story areas, but just not gone that extra yard and put it in. Such quests could be reinforced throughout, other mechanics could be introduced and, of course, they could be mixed and matched for even more streamlined development.
Of course, this is all discussing the merits of developing individual skills. What it doesn’t talk about is how the dynamics of group play are introduced regarding tanking, healing and damage dealing. Once again, we have the best possible canvas to work with in the companion system and BioWare just didn’t quite put the ball in the net. I’ve mentioned my three companions that fit all three roles (Lt Pierce, Jaesa and Quinn), and the game could have designed quests that pick the right partner for you depending on where you’ve put your talent points and what the enemy mob tends to do.
If it’s an enemy that does a lot of single-target damage and your talents are Immortal, Jaesa will accompany you in order to kill the enemy while you soak up as much damage as possible. Should you be a Vengeance player, Lt Pierce will accompany you to take the hits while you bring him down in a timely manner. Regardless of talents, an enemy that does damage to both you and your companion will require Quinn to keep you both alive.
”You must last as long as possible to give your apprentice the time to finish the beast off.”
“Lt Pierce will hold the beast’s attention; but be swift, for he cannot survive indefinitely.”
“The beast exudes a foul odour, deadly to anyone near it. Quinn will ensure you both survive long enough to defeat it.”
Of course, don’t forget that nothing would stop the developers from implementing end quests that use more than one companion while you have direct control of none. Depending on the enemy, you can choose whether you wish to tank him or DPS him, and your companions will be picked according to this choice.
”The time is now, my Lord; but Darth Assplug will require more than sheer brawn. You must decide whether you desire to be the one who delivers the killing blow or whether you will protect your comrades long enough for them to defeat him. The fate of this battle is in your hands.”
Depending on what you choose, you will either have to deliver enough damage before Lt Pierce keels over or mitigate enough before Quinn is overwhelmed.
Ultimately, I agree with those people who reckon that learning outside of a game shouldn’t be necessary; the game itself should be its own training ground. What I’m trying to suggest is a way of developing levelling content that teaches players good habits as well as the basics of good performance and contributing to a strong group dynamic. Not only would this hopefully give new players an introduction to the game itself, it would make for far more involving gameplay that is (most importantly) connected to the rest of the game at level cap.
In-game tutorials are a funny, if often maligned, part of playing an RPG or video game. In my experience, they rarely last longer than five to ten levels, which typically lasts about half an hour; this is assuming they didn’t annoy you and get themselves turned off almost immediately for being too obstructive while you were trying to play.
The problem with MMORPG’s, of course, is that a tutorial covering how one plays in the company of others could have many potential pitfalls. That said, it’s inherently feasible to set up staged instances that introduce group dynamics via NPC’s and scripted encounters. In a world where group play is becoming more and more convoluted (as well as more and more dominant), it seems strange that the prior preparation for it should be so abject. What consolidates this problem is that fact that “tutorials” never actually deal with game mechanics, instead focussing on aspects of the user interface.
Useless.
A criticism often levelled at Blizzard’s Cataclsym expansion for World of Warcraft is the complete lack of challenge during the levelling process. I would happily admit that I’m one of the people disturbed by this, particularly the removal of any grouping requirements.
For those unfamiliar with it, a huge amount of resources were spent recreating the original world of six years in order to bring it up to date. Thousands of new quests were designed, many zones changed their layout somewhat and the entire experience was retuned to shoehorn the challenge out of it. Any grouping requirements were jettisoned, a queue was introduced for watered-down dungeoneering and the player characters were significantly increased in power straight from the off.
What this did was streamline levelling to get players to the level cap as quickly and painlessly as possible. That was the intention, so it did what it set out to do. What it also did, unfortunately, was remove the opportunity for players to learn the game as they worked through the levels. It’s no exaggeration to say that World of Warcraft isn’t really a game any more, rather a social hub of mini-games with no real attachment to one another. The best raider in the world may be useless at player versus player content, while the best player in the arena might be a terribly inefficient leveller. No one aspect of the game seems to relate to another, and this has shoved the player base further apart. Those who are willing to use external sources such as Internet forums or video guides are now at a skill level far higher than ever seen before, while those who develop solely in game are the worst players Azeroth has ever seen at the level cap because they are completely unprepared for the content.
Then enters SW:TOR.
As far as concerns me, SW:TOR has absolutely revolutionised the questing scene from World of Warcraft, in much the same way the latter did from games like EverQuest. Not only did single-player quests become more challenging again, the story-driven quests develop the character as well as the player by introducing particularly powerful single enemies that can require the whole shebang of your abilities to defeat. When this is added to heroic group quests and the introduction of companions that all fill different roles, you’re looking at a far more developmental levelling process that actually feels like it’s part of a complete game (with no insidious queue system to haphazardly promote disassociation). This is consolidated by the fact that certain powerful enemies introduced in your class quests become markedly easier depending on the companion you use. As a Sith warrior, I have three companions that I generally trot out; a tank (Lt Pierce), a damage dealer (Jaesa) and a healer (Quinn). Depending on what the enemy does, I could use any of the three in order to best combat it (I’m deliberately leaving out the droid, Vette and Broonmark for ease of reference).
As superior as the SW:TOR questing system is, for me, it just doesn’t go far enough. If feels like that stage in the kitchen before you cook a meal; all the ingredients are on the table, but you haven’t quite baked the cake yet. Everything is in place to go that one step further… And the game doesn’t quite take it.
I’m talking about a quest-driven developmental tutorial that teaches NEW players how their own class performs, and about how roles are designated for group content.
Don’t forget that I already KNOW what roles my companions fill. I know what a “tank” is, I know what a “healer” is. I know this thanks to prior experience in other MMORPG’s. The point is that players who are new to group-games (and MMO’s of this type in particular) will not know what these terms mean; they won’t have an understanding of the roles and what job each role does. And while SW:TOR is an almost perfect example of the scene being set, it only really went as far as putting everything in place.
I’ll paint you an example.
When it comes to raiding, not much is more important than not standing in the fire. The term has survived through thick and thin, becoming ingrained into the head of everyone who’s ever tried to take down challenging bosses in group content. SW:TOR does a great job of introducing players to this as there are many, MANY enemies who have an area of effect attack as part of their arsenal. Roughly speaking, the player can see the circle on the ground and, if it’s not cast by them, they soon figure out that standing in it isn’t very good.
Let’s take this a stage further.
Another important aspect of group content is the ability to interrupt certain powerful abilities. This could be introduced in the form of a combat quest where the final antagonist has a particular attack, described by the quest giver, that needs interrupted else you’ll be wearing this nuke.
“Remember, Sith, if Lord Buttmonkey is allowed those few seconds to charge his lightsaber, the results will be messy. Disrupt him at all costs!”
This immediately puts the idea into the players head that if they don’t stop this particular attack, they’re going to end up dead. Such a quest can come in the story not long after the ability (in this case, Disruption) has been learned, meaning the tutorial doesn’t end at level 5 – it can continue to level 45 if the developers wish.
Other examples of PvE mechanics that are dangerous and somewhat universal are things like cleaves, tail swipes or unavoidable nukes.
”He brutally swings that club in a wide arc; don’t stand in front of him!”
“The tail is a powerful weapon on these creatures, don’t be another victim!”
“Protected in a Force bubble, you cannot stop the Lightning – you must lessen its impact somehow!”
BioWare have created the PERFECT opportunity for this type of development to take place in their class-dependent instanced story areas, but just not gone that extra yard and put it in. Such quests could be reinforced throughout, other mechanics could be introduced and, of course, they could be mixed and matched for even more streamlined development.
Of course, this is all discussing the merits of developing individual skills. What it doesn’t talk about is how the dynamics of group play are introduced regarding tanking, healing and damage dealing. Once again, we have the best possible canvas to work with in the companion system and BioWare just didn’t quite put the ball in the net. I’ve mentioned my three companions that fit all three roles (Lt Pierce, Jaesa and Quinn), and the game could have designed quests that pick the right partner for you depending on where you’ve put your talent points and what the enemy mob tends to do.
If it’s an enemy that does a lot of single-target damage and your talents are Immortal, Jaesa will accompany you in order to kill the enemy while you soak up as much damage as possible. Should you be a Vengeance player, Lt Pierce will accompany you to take the hits while you bring him down in a timely manner. Regardless of talents, an enemy that does damage to both you and your companion will require Quinn to keep you both alive.
”You must last as long as possible to give your apprentice the time to finish the beast off.”
“Lt Pierce will hold the beast’s attention; but be swift, for he cannot survive indefinitely.”
“The beast exudes a foul odour, deadly to anyone near it. Quinn will ensure you both survive long enough to defeat it.”
Of course, don’t forget that nothing would stop the developers from implementing end quests that use more than one companion while you have direct control of none. Depending on the enemy, you can choose whether you wish to tank him or DPS him, and your companions will be picked according to this choice.
”The time is now, my Lord; but Darth Assplug will require more than sheer brawn. You must decide whether you desire to be the one who delivers the killing blow or whether you will protect your comrades long enough for them to defeat him. The fate of this battle is in your hands.”
Depending on what you choose, you will either have to deliver enough damage before Lt Pierce keels over or mitigate enough before Quinn is overwhelmed.
Ultimately, I agree with those people who reckon that learning outside of a game shouldn’t be necessary; the game itself should be its own training ground. What I’m trying to suggest is a way of developing levelling content that teaches players good habits as well as the basics of good performance and contributing to a strong group dynamic. Not only would this hopefully give new players an introduction to the game itself, it would make for far more involving gameplay that is (most importantly) connected to the rest of the game at level cap.
Monday, January 09, 2012
The keys to combat.
First of all, let me take this opportunity to wish everyone a happy new year and to pass on my best wishes for 2012. I’ve been quiet on the blogging front thanks to a wonderful holiday period in Scotland, but I’m back now and raring to go.
One of the discussions that happened over at MMO-Champion recently revolved around the inclusion of Recount (or similar) in the game. I don’t particularly want to get into the debate regarding that exact issue, because I think there’s too much of a grey area for a conclusive judgement to be made. Personally, I accept that people use in-game combat parsers as a way of improving their own performance and this is to be lauded. But I can also accept the reality that such mods encourage some pretty snotty behaviour from their adherents. Whether or not you want something like Recount in Star Wars will likely be dictated by how strongly your backside is parked in one of those two camps.
What I think is vital, however, is the inclusion of some for of combat parsing and analysis. The Azerothian veterans amongst you will be aware of WWS and sites such as World of Logs; they’re pretty awesome, assuming you know how to read them properly. But such a thing is of particular importance to those playing an Immortal Juggernaut – let me explain why.
It’s been argued in the past that the space between seat and keyboard is where the magic happens (or doesn’t… Hello, LFR). This is undoubtedly true and has been proven so a great many times. That said, choosing talents is a very important part of playing your character effectively and it’s very easy to be punitive on yourself by picking up talents that don’t complement each other well or are, quite simply, just dud talents. The problem is that some of the Immortal talents are extremely difficult to judge without a proper combat parser telling us how good they actually are. I’m talking about talents such as Quake, Blade Barrier and Sonic Barrier; at first glance they seem pretty cookie cutter for a tank, but we’re talking about a talent tree system that actually has a lot of good utility in it and a number of cool places where I might like to put points. It may well turn out that Sonic Barrier, actually, is pretty dud and makes next to no difference on incoming damage. The fact BioWare managed to work in an active mitigation model on launch, something Blizzard still can’t manage after seven years, is commendable.
What we need is a way to make accurate judgements on the talents they’ve dished out. I suppose this post isn’t much more than an impassioned plea for some form of combat parsing, but it’s a plea I sincerely hope is heard at some point.
Fingers crossed.
One of the discussions that happened over at MMO-Champion recently revolved around the inclusion of Recount (or similar) in the game. I don’t particularly want to get into the debate regarding that exact issue, because I think there’s too much of a grey area for a conclusive judgement to be made. Personally, I accept that people use in-game combat parsers as a way of improving their own performance and this is to be lauded. But I can also accept the reality that such mods encourage some pretty snotty behaviour from their adherents. Whether or not you want something like Recount in Star Wars will likely be dictated by how strongly your backside is parked in one of those two camps.
What I think is vital, however, is the inclusion of some for of combat parsing and analysis. The Azerothian veterans amongst you will be aware of WWS and sites such as World of Logs; they’re pretty awesome, assuming you know how to read them properly. But such a thing is of particular importance to those playing an Immortal Juggernaut – let me explain why.
It’s been argued in the past that the space between seat and keyboard is where the magic happens (or doesn’t… Hello, LFR). This is undoubtedly true and has been proven so a great many times. That said, choosing talents is a very important part of playing your character effectively and it’s very easy to be punitive on yourself by picking up talents that don’t complement each other well or are, quite simply, just dud talents. The problem is that some of the Immortal talents are extremely difficult to judge without a proper combat parser telling us how good they actually are. I’m talking about talents such as Quake, Blade Barrier and Sonic Barrier; at first glance they seem pretty cookie cutter for a tank, but we’re talking about a talent tree system that actually has a lot of good utility in it and a number of cool places where I might like to put points. It may well turn out that Sonic Barrier, actually, is pretty dud and makes next to no difference on incoming damage. The fact BioWare managed to work in an active mitigation model on launch, something Blizzard still can’t manage after seven years, is commendable.
What we need is a way to make accurate judgements on the talents they’ve dished out. I suppose this post isn’t much more than an impassioned plea for some form of combat parsing, but it’s a plea I sincerely hope is heard at some point.
Fingers crossed.
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