Killin' Rebs -- Darkest Of Days Review

8monkey Labs' Darkest of Days was quite an ambitious project, aiming to use time travel to place players in a number of historical settings, each with a unique feel. The concept is intriguing, but the execution in Darkest of Days falls short of its potential amid control, AI, and other gameplay issues. It can't equal the standards set by modern top tier shooters, but it is still a fairly solid and different first-person shooter experience that is worth checking out for those who are interested in a more historically accurate, slower-paced, free-roaming game of war.

Darkest of Days is about an organization called KronoteK, formed after the invention of time travel to ensure that history is not tampered with, and if it is, that the integrity of time is quickly restored. The player assumes the role of Alexander Morris, a soldier from the ill-fated Battle of Little Big Horn, rescued from certain death to become an agent of KronoteK and do its Quantum Leap-esque hands-on work. I found it strange that the fictional organization would select someone who they'd have to send forward through time to fight with increasingly advanced weaponry, and even stranger that he had absolutely no resistance to doing so, marching merrily into the Battle of Antietam. Darkest of Days covers the Civil War, WWI, WWII, and Roman eras, bouncing players from one time period to another throughout the story.

Players should know, right up front, that Darkest of Days is visually inferior to most of what they've seen from the first-person shooter genre this generation. Low quality textures, flat foliage, aliasing, screen tearing, pop-in, and flicker are all served up in generous helpings, and when large numbers of soldiers or effects are on the screen at once, frame rate dips become frequent, affecting players' aim and movement. Additionally, the game suffers from lengthy load times, even when installed on the Xbox 360 hard drive, as well as a dark, dingy color palette. In general, there is a low-budget, last-gen look about Darkest of Days. Gamers who are unable to look past these flaws will simply not be able to enjoy this game; despite what it does well, the weak technical foundation will leave many dissatisfied with the experience as a whole. If you are this type of gamer, then you should consider passing it up.

Darkest of Days does do some things very well. The designers clearly aimed to create an authentic atmosphere, and from the tactics employed by the AI (when it works), to the maps plotting out the wide-open levels, to the weapons available in each time period, the ambiance definitely feels right. There are a number of "period weapons" in the game, such as the single-shot Springfield musket from the Civil War era or the "Broomhandle" c96 of the WWI era. There is something extremely satisfying about using a musket or 19th-century revolver sidearm. Iron-sighting targets makes the weapons feel very tangible, and the smoke effects from older weapons realistically obscure players' vision. These weapons are limited in their capabilities, but are not realistic to the point of being just no fun to use (in fact, they may very well be too accurate). They do, however, force an approach more closely approximating what one might do if they were actually in battle; rather than invincibly running and gunning through the enemy lines, players will have to use caution, cover, and fellow soldiers in order to be successful. Often, taking up a position and holding it is the best strategy until it is safe to move forward. Players who enjoy quietly picking off enemies with a rifle will have an especially good time moving through many of the game's scenarios because of this. Additionally, a few advanced weapons are thrown in intermittently to give players the upper hand, and using them to saw through the battlefield is immensely empowering.

8monkey Labs wanted players to feel as though they were on these battlefields, in very dangerous situations. The game succeeds in making war a deadly place to be. Taking a more realistic approach to gunfights, only a few shots are necessary to put down an enemy, but similar rules apply to Morris, and rash players will see the "restart from last save" option (luckily, the game autosaves frequently) many, many times. Players are forced to make critical choices throughout the game, although these choices are never explicitly spelled out. Observing the battlefield and considering the current situation, the player will see that he or she is almost always presented with varying options: Do I fight this group of soldiers or do I back off and wait for them to pass? Do I follow the road or do I cut across that field? Do I hole up in a house and ride out an attack or do I hide in the trees along the perimeter? Do I rush out into no-man's-land, or do I man a gun emplacement? These decisions can mean the difference between survival and death, and playing out those decisions is very engaging as a result of the game's atmosphere.

Although Darkest of Days is not a completely wide-open, go-anywhere game, it gives a good illusion of being so. The player is directed only by objective locations marked on the map, but getting there is up to them. It is a point-to-point, progressive mission structure, but without boundaries... except for the invisible walls. Yes, this game is not only about time travel, but it seems to have travelled back through the generations of gaming to retrieve invisible walls for use in the modern day. A focused player may not run into more than one throughout the whole game, but they have a most jarring effect when they are discovered. Also breaking the sense of immersion the game struggles so valiantly to maintain is the on-again, off-again AI. Sometimes enemy and ally behaviors, movements, and formations make great sense, and even match tactics from the particular time period in question. At other times, soldiers from both sides of the conflict run about like chickens with their heads cut off, shoot in the wrong direction, or become completely oblivious to the player's presence. Still more frustrating is that some enemies couldn't shoot the broad side of a barn, while others smoke Morris from what seems like 1000 yards away.

Other gameplay-hampering annoyances include the game's controller setup and problems with combat. Darkest of Days' control scheme is uncustomizable, but the biggest problems are the hold-to-crouch left analog stick, and the hold-to-view-the-map Back button. The former is likely due to the fact that the game was developed for the PC, where holding a button to crouch is more natural and helpful in battle, but holding a clicked-in left stick while still trying to move effectively -- or worse yet, stay still -- is arduous to say the least. As for holding a button to look at the map, especially the awkwardly-placed Back button -- that's just ridiculous. A pace-quickening active reload system has been implemented in this game, much like the Gears of War franchise. This is a welcome addition, especially considering the reload rates of some of the earlier period guns. Unfortunately, all of its bugs have not been worked out. Whenever Morris reloads, a circular meter indicates his progress. If the player presses X for a second time when the meter reaches a highlighted section, the remainder of the reload animation will be expedited, if the timing is off, the gun will jam and take even longer to be ready. Sometimes, the system just doesn't work. Coming out of a scoped view, for example, reloads have a tendency to auto-fail, and on occasion, the game will register a clear miss as a successful active reload. *sigh*

There is no question that Darkest of Days is flawed. From technical issues, to controls, to AI, it could benefit from a great deal of refinement. The story and concept behind the game, however, are interesting, and the time periods and battlefield situations are carefully crafted and can be very immersive. It may be a tough sell, but there is a market for Darkest of Days, and that market will get a surprising amount of enjoyment out of this game... even if others should simply avoid it like the plague.

One Word Review | Prince of Persia

This is One Word Review, a concept that I shamelessly lifted from my friend Creighton over at Nerdology (it's okay, he said I could). The idea behind OWR, as we like to call it, is that videogames are so often rated, reviewed, and discussed to exhaustion that it is sometimes a relief to read a succinct, definitive description of a game--a single word that sums up the most prominent characteristics of the gaming experience. That's the idea, so here goes:

Autolingering

Fun Without The Game -- Scribblenauts Review

Scribblenauts: Since its pre-release debut, videogame critics, developers, and fans alike have showered praise upon this new and novel creation for venturing into uncharted territory and aiming to do what no game has ever accomplished before. In some ways, Scribblenauts is a great success; its primary conceptual design elements are unarguably pioneering achievements in gaming. In other ways, however, it falters, primarily in the playability of the game it offers within the playground it establishes.

Scribblenauts, for the uninitiated, is a puzzle game that tasks players with collecting the single star from each level as they move from one to the next through a series of larger areas. There is no narrative, and the puzzles are completely independent of one another, save for a common background theme (ice, beach, mountains, etc.) in each of the locales. What makes Scribblenauts so special, though, is how one approaches these puzzles -- and let me tell you, there are myriads of ways to do so -- using a clever and comprehensive item system. (I suppose one could call it that.)

To interact with the game world, players call up a keyboard interface and type in any word from an expansive dictionary of well over twenty thousand nouns that can be instantly conjured into virtual existence. They may then move, rotate, and place the object/animal/person... thing... wherever they choose. The best part about this is not even the sheer number of words available for use, but the way those manifestations then interact with one another based on physical, behavioral, and relational qualities, without any further instigation from the player.

The system is a sight to behold. If you can think of it, and it isn't offensive, copyrighted, or vulgar, then the word is most likely included. I had a great time picking out words that I deemed to be obscure, and then watching them magically appear before my eyes (although "softball" isn't included... odd). Simply playing around on the game's title screen, building structures, setting up chain reactions, and pitting things like Cthulhu and Shoggoth against one another in gladiatorial combat is one of the most amusing ways to play with Scribblenauts, or any game for that matter.

Unfortunately, the goal-based game itself is actually less enjoyable than the veritable sandbox of the opening scene. The two available modes are Puzzle, where certain conditions must be met in order for the stage's star to appear (create the right items, bring characters together, eliminate antagonists, etc.), and Action, where the star is already present, but must be retrieved by navigating a daunting environment. Either mode can end up turning into a long game of trial and error, but are oftentimes quite simplistic. The ability to review each puzzle's initial clue would be a great help, because as the game stands now, doing so requires the player to restart the level completely.

In many instances, the game suffers from a drawback similar to that of the equally creative Crayon Physics Deluxe: players can repeatedly employ the same strategies and use the same objects to finish levels, taking the joys of exploration, discovery, and PLAY out of the equation. Faulting the game for this would be unfair, since it's the player's choice to solve any stage in any way imaginable, but the encouragement by the game to use as few items as possible, doling out more "ollars" (the game's currency) for each item under "par" in a way punishes creativity and lengthy, satisfying solutions.

It's true, just blowing through Scribblenauts can be boring. It can feel like a grind. An advanced mode, where players must complete levels three times in a row with no object duplication was a brilliant addition. It eases this feeling by pushing players to think outside of the box, but replaying the same, focused, objective-based stage over and over is still not the most enjoyable way to play a game.

Controlling the game's leading man, Maxwell, can also be frustrating. Players move Maxwell around with the stylus, tapping in the general direction they would like him to walk, jump, fly, or climb. It is not precise at all, and this unwieldy setup is one of the biggest knocks against Scribblenauts. While playing, it's easy to question why the developers chose to map the camera controls to the DS face buttons and leave character movement to the stylus. I obviously haven't tried an alternative setup, where Maxwell can move and jump with the d-pad and face buttons, but it seems a more logical approach in my estimation.

Is Scribblenauts an enjoyable experience? Sure. Playing with the game's words and objects is highly entertaining, especially with friends around to brainstorm and laugh with. But is it a good game? Well, I'm inclined to say that the majority of its entertainment value lies in the former, and the controls are pretty sub-par, but the puzzles are still acceptable in their own regard. Should you at least try it? Unequivocally, yes.

Art In Motion -- Muramasa: The Demon Blade Review

I love seeing great games on the Wii. Muramasa: The Demon Blade most certainly falls into that category. It is one of the best entries into the evanescent beat-em-up (slash-em-up?) genre in recent memory, and is Vanillaware's best effort to date... and that's saying a lot.

On top of the unparalleled sprite-based, hand-drawn, multi-layered, parallax-scrolling graphics that lovingly caress players' retinas from the second they load up the game, and enveloped within a thematically-appropriate, flute-and-lute-rich, traditional Japanese soundscape, players will find that Muramasa delivers steadily enjoyable gameplay from start to finish, with only a slight tarnish from repetition.

Muramasa plays just like it should. That is to say that a game about samurais, ninjas, monsters, and demon blades in a fictional 17th-century Japan should be smooth, responsive, and manageable, putting the player firmly in control of his or her character's actions and letting them feel the power of slicing through enemies by stringing together combinations of various types of attacks with relative ease and simplicity. Muramasa, blending and simplifying the guiltily satisfying swordplay of Ninja Gaiden, the layered level presentation and progression of the Metroid franchise, and the crafting, leveling, and inventory elements of most JRPGs, does that, and more.

Each time they load the game, players may take control of Kisuke, an amnesiac ninja, or Monohime, a possessed princess, and continue either of two separate but interweaving storylines. These follow different paths through the well-mapped provincial Japan, through different locales and with different enemies, making each character's story a distinct gameplay experience. Three difficulty modes are available, ranging from the forgiving Muso setting to the deadly Shigurui mode (available only after completing the game once), which limits the player's hit points to 1. Shuro is the initial "hard" difficulty setting, and requires better combat precision than Muso mode. There are also multiple endings, giving players more reason to replay Muramasa.

No matter the difficulty setting, which can be changed mid-game, play consists of advancing through multi-sectional levels with the aim of reaching a particular location, where a boss character waits and a few short cutscenes further flesh out the plot. On the way to these milestone confrontations, groups of enemies will appear, sometimes detaining the player until all are vanquished, and sometimes permitting them to continue without bloodshed. The bosses are all large and finely detailed, of unique and fantastical design, and each requires a different attack strategy to defeat. Doing so will clear that province of enemies and grant players a special blade and the ability to break down one of many colored barriers blocking the way at key locations on the map, thus allowing further progress, and setting the stage for their next goal.

Combat itself is like walking on air, and although the fights with ninjas, samurai, gremlins, griffins, kappa, giant frogs, etc. occur on a frequent basis, they rarely feel like a disturbance or an imposition on the player's gameplay experience. Using the simple control scheme, players can string together flurries of attacks from the very start without breaking a sweat. A possible downside of this is that there's nothing new to learn throughout the game, but I'm not entirely convinced that the sequential discovery of techniques makes for a better experience than the perfection of a well-rounded initial move set. In Muramasa, A is the primary attack button, and is very mashable for simple combos, but direction modifiers can be applied as well. While holding the A button, pressing up on the control stick makes Kisuke and Monohime perform a vertical slash, and pressing left or right sends them gliding across the screen, slashing anything in their path. The latter can be done up to three times in a row. While airborne, normal attacks keep the blade wielder suspended like a Hokusai-painted hummingbird of death, and pressing down + A delivers a swift downward thrust to anything below. The B button unleashes the currently equipped weapon's Spirit Power, which is a more powerful attack, unique to each blade.

Spirit Powers, along with regular use and blocking (hold down A), diminishes a sword's Soul Power, which is like a hit points bar for folded steel. When the meter is depleted, the sword breaks, and another must be selected. Three demon blades are equipped at any given time, and each has its own attack power, special effect (stat boosts, resistances, etc.), and aforementioned Spirit Power. Players will constantly switch from one to the next as swords break and revitalize, and doing so at the right moments trigger screen-wide blade storms, much like the effects in arcade beat-em-ups and shooters. There is little diversity in the way the different swords handle -- there are essentially two types: short, quick blades and long, powerful blades -- but maintaining a good balance of size and effect can still be important, especially on the higher difficulty settings or during boss fights.

There is a sea of swords in Muramasa. Some are earned by defeating bosses, but most must be created in the game's blade-forging tree. To make new, more powerful weapons, the ethereal swordsmith Muramasa requires souls, collected from the environment and fallen opponents, and spirit, drawn from food and recovery items. The availability of blades is limited by these factors, the blades in one's possession, and Kisuke or Monohime's strength and vitality, which increase as they gain levels from battle.

There is little more one can ask of a game like Muramasa. Aside from backtracking, which is slightly eased by the infrequent use of boats and palanquins to travel quickly across the map, there isn't anything wrong with the game. The visuals, which should be self-evident, represent some of the best artistic design in all of videogames, and the perfectly matched music conjures images of traditional Japan, as well as another critical darling, Okami. Anyone who owns a Wii and enjoys videogames should play Muramasa.

Beware The Formidable Foes Ahead -- Demon's Souls Preview

I was recently given the opportunity to try my hand at a trade demo of From Software's Demon's Souls, published by Atlus in the US. I've enjoyed my time with it thus far, and am eager to dive deeper into the game, as playing through the training level and the first segment of one of its six major areas reveals the title to be one of the most unique examples of a dungeon-crawling action RPG in recent memory.

The game is set in a world where demons have descended to claim the souls of the living, preceded by a thick and ominous fog covering much of the land. It is up to players to vanquish these demons and clear the world of their influence. To do so, they will fight across a number of different locales both while alive and in a quasi-corporeal soul form, which they enter upon death.

Gameplay takes place in a number of rich and immense 3D environments, and players have great control over the character they play. To begin, these characters are fully customizable, letting players choose from four geographic backgrounds (north, south, east, west) and 10 character classes that range from uncivilized barbarians to magic users and royalty. Each class starts the game with its own combination of equipment and attributes, but over the course of the game can be molded to fit players' preferences and play style.

Gameplay is different from games of this kind. Combat is intricate, and every fight feels like something substantial. Players lock on and cycle between targets using the right analog stick, then press R1 and R2 for normal and heavy attacks. If a catalyst (wand) is equipped and a spell memorized, magic attacks work the same way. The circle button dodges and rolls, L1 raises a shield or weapon to block, and L2 parries attacks, leaving the enemy open for a deadly riposte, a quick victory, and a finishing animation. Players are also given the option of dual-wielding, or using a single weapon with two hands -- sometimes a necessity to reap its full benefits, due to strength requirements.

From what I've sampled, I can see that survival isn't exactly easy in Demon's Souls. Enemies hit hard, and any sizable group has the potential to quickly become overwhelming. Quickly swapping between primary and secondary equipment with the d-pad (left for shield/off-hand, right for main weapon), or using quick-access healing items with the square button will undoubtedly be indispensable strategies on those occasions. On all occasions, it looks like players will be taking it slowly if they want to live.

On top of the massive single-player experience (expected to clock in at around 80-100 hours), the game features a number of unique online components. Throughout the adventure, players can leave messages for other online-enabled players to find in their own games. These may warn of danger ahead or point out secrets, and are limited to a selection of key phrases to avoid the standard vulgarity of online gaming communities. Phantom versions of other characters also make short, intermittent appearances as players traverse the same areas at the same times, and bloodstains on the ground allow you to see visual playbacks of how others have met their demise in those particular locations.

On top of that, players have the option of teaming up in parties of two or three in order to complete levels and defeat major demons. Or they may invade other players' worlds to fight against them, either to win souls or to be resurrected from soul form in their own game.

Demon's Souls looks incredibly promising. The concepts of intertwined worlds, the Nexus, and soul form have great potential, especially in an online gaming landscape, and the gameplay itself is a refreshing and competent reinvention of an established genre. I can't wait to play more.

One Word Review | Dead Rising

This is One Word Review, a concept that I shamelessly lifted from my friend Creighton over at Nerdology (it's okay, he said I could). The idea behind OWR, as we like to call it, is that videogames are so often rated, reviewed, and discussed to exhaustion that it is sometimes a relief to read a succinct, definitive description of a game--a single word that sums up the most prominent characteristics of the gaming experience. That's the idea, so here goes:

Romeroclonal

A Wild Ride -- Wet Preview

What better way to spend the wee hours of a Tuesday morning than by taking control of an acrobatic gun- and katana-wielding mercenary girl with rage issues and the power to slow down time? Luckily, Artificial Mind and Movement (A2M) and Bethesda's Wet allows players to do just that in a frenetic and stylish third-person action romp, so I did.

Wet plays much like Total Overdose or Stranglehold, or however one might expect anything directed by John Woo or even Quentin Tarantino to translate to the videogame medium. Gameplay appears to mostly consist of gunning down steady streams of enemies while slow-motion jumping, diving, sliding, swinging, and wall-running in various combination. These combinations are tallied, earning points and multipliers for the player, and even accelerated health regeneration during special arena sections.

While the gunplay was a bit loose, wild, and something like riding a mechanical bull in Tijuana, the acrobatics, automatic fire, and unlimited ammo made it forgiving and enjoyable. An especially nice touch is the split-targeting feature, which locks one of main character Rubi's pistolas onto a nearby enemy as the player aims the other with an on-screen reticle. Being able to easily direct fire at a single or multiple enemies while gliding through streets and buildings definitely helps drive home the let-you-do-a-lot-without-really-trying gameplay philosophy A2M seems to have followed with Wet.

Rubi also carries a katana -- a very useful tool for cutting down foes within melee range. This blade is equally, if not more deadly than Rubi's guns, but will be used less often than the twins. Aside from combat, however, Rubi tends to whip out the sword to use it as a pry bar, zipline handle, and whatever else seems to make sense at the moment. The katana seems more fitting to Rubi's moments of blood rage, though -- instances where she gets a crimson bath from her slain enemies and the game's entire visual style transforms into a less detailed noir style in bold black, white, and red. During this time Rubi has double health, stronger, faster attacks, and somehow, her pistols get automatic, uzi-like capabilities.

The most impressive aspect of gameplay, however, should be the high-adrenaline action sequences infused with quick time events and over-the-top, Rubi-does-awesome-things moves. I was only able to play out one car chase, but if it's any indicator, these segments will be the apex of Wet's gameplay experience. Throughout the scene, players fire at moving cars from moving cars using the same slo-motion effect and split-targeting as before, but will also have to watch for button prompts that send Rubi leaping over and across vehicles, maintaining the core shooting mechanics throughout every move. It's very intense and visually dramatic.

The entire game appears to be very polished in the graphics department. The game has a gritty, striking look, incorporating film grain effects and a striking color palette, with character design to match. Menus are all highly stylized and very slick, as well. Rubi is voiced by a potty-mouthed Eliza Dushku, which may or may not e a good thing, and the music tracks are very fitting to the style and energy of the game.

Wet certainly looks promising, with fun, over-the-top action and a this-game-is-cool atmosphere. I don't expect it to be in the realm of the most elite titles this fall, but it is definitely worth looking forward to.

Wet is scheduled for release on September 15th on the PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360.

Elementary, My Dear -- Professor Layton And The Diabolical Box Review

That famous puzzle-solving gentleman and his faithful sidekick are back in Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box from Level 5 and Nintendo. The sequel delivers nearly the same, familiar experience as in Professor Layton and The Curious Village, but still makes enough positive changes to keep players interested without sacrificing any of what made the first game great.

Like its predecessor, Diabolical Box is a hybrid of a point-and-click adventure and a collection of logic-based, visual, and mathematical brain teasers. The overarching goal is to follow the trail of the famed Elysian Box and an anonymous perpetrator whose involvement in the death of Layton's mentor is unclear, but like the first game, the story is less a focus than the puzzles players encounter along the way.

Puzzle difficulty ranges from confusingly simple (I found it difficult to understand why certain puzzles were even included, as they didn't seem like puzzles at all) to decently challenging. The average player should have no trouble breezing through the game, however, especially if they decide to take advantage of Layton's hint system. Hidden within the game's background illustrations are "hint coins," which are revealed by tapping on their hiding places and later exchanged for hints to puzzles that manage to keep players stumped. Also helpful is the new memo feature, which allows players to use an overlay effect on the DS screen as a piece of scrap paper while figuring out a puzzle's solution.

This time around, a greater number of the puzzles are better tied into the plot, creatively related to the current in-game situation and surroundings. This ultimately makes for more original puzzles and a more cohesive overall experience. There are also fewer difficult-to-find puzzles; most are discovered by talking to characters and tapping prominent background features as opposed to inconspicuous details.

Players advance smoothly through The Diabolical Box, which already feels like more of an adventure than the last game thanks to the variety of locations to which Layton and Luke travel over the course of their investigation. There is little time spent repeatedly wandering the same locales, and new areas add variety and obvious evidence of progress. Unfortunately, this makes the game feel more guided; players spend less time searching for the next plot trigger, but may also feel like they are just going through the motions to do so.

Aside from the puzzles and the main narrative, which includes many hand-drawn, beautifully animated cutscenes, excellent music, and stellar voice acting, there are a number of minigames that players can divert their attention to. These can be an enjoyable break from the puzzle grind, and have relevant in-game rewards, but end up feeling more like an afterthought than a legitimate pursuit because participation in these games is limited by progress in the main game. Players can't really do anything with these minigames until they have collected the prerequisite items from the main adventure.

Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box is essentially more of the same as last time, but is clearly the objectively better game in the series. The choice to pick up one or the other should be simple for newcomers, and Layton veterans will find plenty here to enjoy once again. A solid mix of story and puzzles make this a perfect game to enjoy in both small chunks and marathon "just-one-more-puzzle" sessions, which can be extended further with the help of weekly puzzle downloads over Nitendo Wi-fi.

Bridging The Gap With Adventure Games

Adventure games are arguably the least demanding of all videogame genres. Requiring minimal manual dexterity, hand-eye coordination, twitch response, and reflexes, they are likely the nearest thing in the videogame world to reading a book or watching a movie (save for MGS4, of course). I wonder then, if now, at the apex of the casual gaming boom, it is this [nearly] once-forgotten genre that will be the key to expanding the core videogame community as much as the fringe.

I feel that the current state of the videogame industry is perfect for a resurgence of the adventure genre, a type of game that hasn't been overly popular since the early days of gaming, and has only recently been anything more than a distant, infrequent blip on the radar. This genre is an important step in the graduation of new gamers from introductory, casual, Wii- and DS-type games into the realm of more advanced, involved, "hardcore" gaming.

The hangups faced by individuals who have the potential to become immersed in gamer culture are many, ranging from steep learning curves, to prohibitive financial barriers, to informational deficiency, as well as issues that may be invisible to those looking out at the challenge from inside the realm of experienced gamers.

The adventure genre can be a learning tool for new players that acclimates them to the basic problem-solving mechanics common to nearly all games... without the demands of more action-based selections. In order to play, you needn't have incredible manual dexterity, refined hand-eye-coordination, or lightning-fast reflexes, but you do need to be able to think. These games exercise and captivate the mind far more than those in the casual and party game departments.

Growing from a casual Wii and DS player into a seasoned videogame veteran takes more than simply adjusting to sophisticated controls. Players who are given no incentive, no compelling reason to WANT to dive into deeper, comprehensive gaming experiences, will never do so. This transition requires the help of a videogame genre that can act as a stepping stone between entry-level and advanced gaming not only in terms of gameplay, but also in terms of content, and adventure games can fill both of those roles.

The relative expense of developing and publishing a qualitatively acceptable adventure title also makes the genre more accessible to the consumer from a financial perspective. Most modern games cost exorbitant sums of money to create, and therefore cost gamers upwards of $50 per single unit. To a well-informed and experienced gamer, this is no sweat, but to someone just learning the ropes or figuring out if gaming is the hobby for him or her, this may be too big a gamble at the checkout counter. Fortunately, the savings in developing the less demanding adventure game can be passed on to the consumer, and that diminished risk is yet another incentive to take the plunge.

With the advent of Xbox LIVE Arcade and the PlayStation Network, snagging an adventure game couldn't be more convenient for the on-the-brink gamer. Not only are these games right at everyone's fingertips, but they also come with preview descriptions, and oftentimes demo versions, as well. Not coincidentally, these online services have become the primary breeding grounds for the adventure genre, and it is here that these games have enjoyed the greatest share of their recent success.

The videogame industry has expanded greatly over the past few years, but this growth has primarily been in the casual, fringe marketplace. There needs to be a way to close the gap between the highly segregated sectors of the videogame market. Adventure games may very well be that bridge.

Little King, Big Ideas -- Little King's Story Review

Maybe Little King's Story should have been rated M by the ESRB, because it is through mature eyes that Cing and Xseed's unique strategy adventure was certainly meant to be viewed. Behind the childlike veneer of bright, cutesy graphics, classical music, and simple gameplay mechanics lies a sophisticated game about imperialism, authority, greed, excess, self-loathing, gender roles, and other social dynamics. This game is not for children, as its colorful store-shelf appearance may suggest to consumers, but it is a highly playable and very enjoyable experience for more discerning Wii owners.

In Little King's Story, the player assumes the role of a new king in a strange, whimsical, fairytale land. The main goal is to expand the kingdom of Alpoko by amassing citizens, training each in one of many different occupations, and using them to venture into uncharted territories and conquer the eight other kings in the world. This foreign policy is of course heavily influenced by the king's ambitious advisor, who at times during cutscene conversation will slip and hint at his selfish motivation. The king's imperialistic goal is at once described as both "world unification" and the much less flowery "world domination." Either way, the player's objective is the same -- explore and take over the entire world.

Gameplay is reminiscent of titles like Pikmin and Overlord, where the player directly controls a single leader and issues simple commands to the small entourage that trails like a group of ducklings. Little King's Story adds depth to this premise by combining more traditional real-time strategy components with the basic charge-or-retreat mechanics of those games. Players will collect items throughout the land by defeating enemies or searching through various aspects of the environment (pots, holes, fallen logs, stones, etc.), and then take them to the castle to be exchanged for money. The king can use this money to initiate "Kingdom Plans," which are mostly projects to build citizen-generating residences or job-training facilities that will convert the "carefree adult" base units into specific job classes. Other kingdom plans include power-ups that improve citizen health, increase the size of the king's "Royal Guard," or allow the group to be arranged in different formations in the field.

The game features nearly 20 unique job classes, ranging from the hole-digging farmer to highly specialized units like the wizard and doctor. Each job is vital to the king's campaign -- carpenters build bridges, miners break through stone, lumberjacks cut down trees, soldiers fight battles... -- and he can take only a set number with him each time he ventures outside the kingdom's borders, so the Royal Guard will constantly change throughout the adventure, consisting of different combinations of citizens all the time.

The citizens of Alpoko all have names, personalities, and individual lives that play second fiddle to the will of the king. These folks may cultivate friendships with one another, fall in love, marry, have children, and even mourn the deaths of other members of their personal social circles (based on the communities in which they live and the members of the Royal Guard teams they are parts of). This is quite different from similar games, where the nameless peons seem to be entirely expendable, and players feel no connection with what is essentially just another group of tools. Here, players learn their citizens' names, watch relationships flourish, and may even feel some remorse when they die.

Being pulled from their comfortable lives to serve in the Royal Guard will often elicit complaints from citizens, but they will inevitably acquiesce to the king... and the good of the kingdom. While a part of the king's Royal Guard, citizens do just as they're ordered, but it's interesting to see how the members of certain occupations will behave if left to their own artificially intelligent devices. For example, the game describes the top infantry units, hardened soldiers, using the phrase, "All they know is violence." Indeed, not only are these meatheads useless for any constructive task (all they can do is fight or break things, including the fine craftsmanship of the kingdom's royal carpenters), but they also harass and push around Alpoko's carefree adults when they are not under the king's direct command.

Other citizens have quirks as well. Kampell, the 'prophet' to the god Ramen makes ridiculous claims about faith and prayer, citing his obviously fictional deity as the cause and effect of everything in the world. Conversely, the answer-seeking cosmologist Skinny Ray exhibits his paranoia about unexplained natural phenomena with wildly inductive, pseudo-scientific conclusions. The humor and candor with which Little King's Story's world is presented is refreshing and entertaining, and along with its mild visual stylings, compliments the more serious nature of the game's messages.

This game is crammed full of both the expression and criticism of many different societal views and beliefs. Within Alpoko, one might notice that only after building a church can citizens consecrate their love (via the player sending the couple into the institution together), and only after marrying will they have a child. However, the trend is most clearly evident in the characterization of the other kings and their followers. For example, one king preaches peace and love, but he and his citizens exist in a perennial drunken (and particularly violent) stupor, applauding the behavior all the while. Another kingdom is practically MADE out of culinary delights, and the king does little more than ceaselessly indulge. There is a kingdom where television is idolized, and others where pride or worry consume the people's lives. Each kingdom seems to have at least minor ties with some real-word counterpart, highlighting a specific aspect of the culture there. Even the nonsensical voices of the characters lean audibly toward a specific real-world language in each kingdom.

According to game director Yoshiro Kimura, under the actual gameplay, Little King's Story is an exploration of what it means to be noble, and whose sets of values are the most noble of them all. This game is as much about its words as its gameplay, and conversations with the other kings, letters from citizens, and the menus themselves combine with the game's imagery to deliver many of its messages. But this is still something that is meant to be played... and it does that fairly well.

While members of Royal Guard can get hung up on buildings, fences, and other obstacles fairly easily (navigating stairs is a daunting challenge until players acquire the single-file "evade" formation), and it is sometimes difficult to maintain a bead on targets with the loose lock-on system, running around the kingdom and directing the king's forces is relatively painless and enjoyable. Commands to charge, retreat, line up according to job, change formation, disband, and adjust camera angle are all housed on the Wii remote, with map, movement, and the king's piddly wand attack on the nunchuk. There are absolutely no motion controls involved, and I never found myself searching for such input methods. Other than the inability to split forces or temporarily dismiss a part of the group -- options that would make performing tasks and fighting battles less unnecessarily difficult -- there is little more to ask of the control scheme.

Little King's Story is one of the best in the Wii's library. It is fun to play for hours on end, and offers much more depth than your average title. It has a look all its own and the highly recognizable classical music is used very well. If you're looking for something good on the Wii, I recommend that everyone at least give Little King's Story a try.

Unwieldy Genius -- Trine Review

It's safe to say that videogame critics love to see novelty in the games they play on a day-to-day basis, so it comes as no surprise that the physics-based, 2D action-platformer Trine was met with open arms well before it was ever released. The question is whether the near-flawless visual spectacle and unique conceptual design presented by Frozenbyte serve to exemplify great gameplay or simply glam up an average experience. Or could it be a little of both?

The game follows the fantasy adventure of a wizard, a thief, and a knight, whose concurrent quests lead them to be physically bound to one another by a magical artifact known as the Trine. In order to be freed from this unified existence, they must reunite three ancient artifacts -- a task that, coincidentally, will also rid the kingdom of the evil force that has spilled across the land and polluted it with droves of undead (and bats... f'n bats). It's a storybook come to life, complete with colorful language and dark fairy tale narration between levels.

From the moment Trine graces the player's monitor, there is no denying its visual splendor. The three-dimensional fore- and backgrounds are so finely crafted that stopping to admire the multi-layered environments in the middle of play would not be at all inexcusable. From the soft glow and light smoke of the torches that dot dungeon walls, to pillars of light streaming through lush, waving forest canopies, to iridescent mushroom caps and damp, shining cavern rock formations, everything in Trine has been rendered with great care and attention to detail. The textures applied to trees, rocks, and other surfaces in the game are almost tangible, and special effects such as distortion around heat sources and the red filter that pulses when a character sustains damage draw players further into the game world.

This graphical glory comes at a price, though; combining the slick visuals with a resource-hungry physics engine, Trine and all its beauty can be very demanding of weaker systems, slowing the game to a slideshow unless settings are significantly lowered. In this game, especially, this is an issue because of its impact on gameplay. Unless Trine is running 100% smoothly, controlling the three characters becomes a nightmarish struggle. The loose, physics-engine platforming is already a bit imprecise, so any hiccups quickly transform the game from challenging fun into unenjoyable aggravation.

Conceptually, Trine is brilliant. Each character has unique, upgradeable abilities that will help guide the trio to their final destination, and switching from one skill set to the next with the touch of a button feels very empowering. The game's level design plays off of these abilities, cleverly intertwining a number of solutions to each "puzzle," and only occasionally requiring one specific character to proceed. For example, the same obstacle may be surmounted by using the thief's grappling hook, the wizard's magically conjured boxes, planks, and platforms, or the knight's ability to pick up and place heavy objects.

Checkpoints throughout each of the game's 15 levels are very useful for reviving fallen comrades, regaining lost health, or restarting after an untimely demise, but it is disappointing that the game doesn't allow players to save their progress and re-embark on their journey later from one of these markers. Trine forces players to resume their autosaved games only from the beginnings of each level, replaying what has already been done. Controller configurations aren't saved from one session to the next, either, so players who customize their mouse, keyboard, or gamepad will have to do so each time they sit down to play. This can become frustrating after a number of short forays into Trine's kingdom.

The way combat has been injected into the game is crude and unrefined, as well. Although picking off enemies from afar, aiming the thief's bow with the mouse or right analog stick, is well-implemented, and the rudimentary hack-n-slash methodology of the knight works, the virtually endless streams of spawning and respawning skeletons (and f'n bats) at very specific points kills the flow of gameplay through each and every level in the game. A much better option would have been to reduce the number of foes and disperse them somewhat evenly throughout the levels rather than impeding players for long periods of time and detracting from the overall experience. Trine is about traversing a beautiful fantasy kingdom and using interactive physics to manipulate objects and cleverly solve puzzles along the way. It's telekinesis, conjuration, and platforming, not button-mashing.

Trine is a blend of AAA concepts and design, underdeveloped gameplay architecture, and bits and pieces of whatever might fall in between, all presented on a beautiful 2D/3D canvas. Despite it's flaws, it is an enjoyable game, and is definitely worth checking out. For players in no rush to get started, however, waiting for the less expensive console version -- or a discount -- might not be a bad idea.

The Significance of Sports Games

There are many types of games, and many types of gamers -- a fact of life that a fair share of the more "hardcore" veteran gaming audience may not be one-hundred percent willing to accept. Over the past few years, in what could be referred to as the Wii Expansion Era of the videogame industry, this simple truth has become more and more evident via a continuous influx of an increasing number of "casual" gaming hobbyists. But this isn't the first time the inhabitants of the gaming world have had to cope with mass immigration, so to speak. Sports gamers, too, were at one time the new kids on the block, but have since transitioned into a position of mainstream gaming acceptance. This maturation, then, begs the question, "what is the significance of sports games to the industry as a whole?"

While they have existed since the industry's infancy (more on that later), it wasn't until the mid-90s and the 16-bit era that sports games really began to flourish. This growth ushered in a brand new crowd of gamers who might have never picked up a controller before, expanding the gaming population much like the Wii has done in more recent years. One franchise in particular can be credited for more than a fair share of the genre's early success, and although it has existed since 1989, the Madden series took virtual football to the next level in 1993 by securing official NFL licenses, which in turn drew in a large number of existing NFL fans. Not coincidentally, 1993 was also the year that EA Sports was formed, and it is to this period that the roots of many existing sports franchises -- and sports gamers -- can be traced.

Since their introduction, sports games have always functioned as catalysts for the growth of the videogame industry. In fact, some of the very first games were designed to mimic real-life sports. Tennis for Two in 1958 and the notorious Pong in 1972 sparked the videogame boom, making the sports genre one of the oldest in gaming. Even if this genre wasn't immediately a mega-popular mainstay for enthusiasts, these pioneering titles laid the foundation for everything to follow. Nearly as relevant to the current state of gaming is how instrumental the sports genre has been in promoting multiplayer/competitive gaming. Sports games have always been about playing together with friends, either cooperatively or competitively, and it's no secret that as time goes on, a greater percentage of the gaming population and a greater percentage of games are either connecting online or locally. The standard, taken-for-granted, 4-controller-port design of modern consoles stems from the multitap, an 8-bit-era invention that increased the number of ports on home consoles to accommodate more players at one time. These devices were of course supported primarily by sports titles, which allowed many players to participate in games simultaneously. More recently, the Xbox LIVE and PlayStation Network phenomena have become so important to the modern social gaming climate that the absence of online components actually decreases a game's value in the eyes of many critics.

Speaking in simple dollars and cents -- no small matters in the high-risk, high-reward business that the modern videogame industry has become -- the sports genre is immensely important. Dorm-room managers and other sports game consumers make up a huge market sector, and pump money into the industry year-in and year-out. While the oft-criticized yearly updates to sports game franchises may only incrementally improve (or not) with each passing year, fans still gobble up these yearly editions by the millions in order to stay up to date with their sport(s) of choice. The major downside to this trend is that the "sequelitis" development strategy has been implemented in genres where the caliber of titles is more heavily affected by novelty and originality... or lack thereof. This practice has not only helped game companies to realize their goals of increased production and revenue, but has also unfortunately served to dilute the quality of games in those categories, as well.

Beyond the hard numbers, sports games also carry social significance in a number of ways. These games are educational tools for players seeking to learn the rules, strategies, and other intricacies of a given sport. Playing a sports videogame is essentially a form of practice on a virtual field. Players may not be training themselves physically, but their mental game can be sharpened as they continually run through each game's proceedings via what are, in part, interactive instructional guides. Similarly, virtual participation within videogames may be the only opportunity for some people to enjoy sports at all, on more than just a passive level. Physical impairment, age, time constraints, lack of athleticism, etc. are all obstacles that can be leveled on the virtual playing field, giving these individuals the chance to enjoy something that would otherwise be out of reach.

Finally, to complete the answer to our initial question, we must understand the importance of sports outside of gaming -- real-life sports. Since time immemorial, people have organized together and in opposition to compete in physical contests whose outcomes would inevitably distinguish clear winners and losers. War is the most obvious form of human conflict to arise under normal conditions, from the individual duel, to tribal skirmishes, to large-scale campaigns. Many early sports were created by adapting war training exercises, such as spear throwing, in order to hone the skills required for more deadly activities. This behavior was an adaptive survival strategy, and still remains a part of what it means to be human. So, as an extension of this inherent competitive human nature, sports, games, and the subsequent marriage of the two -- sports games -- are important outlets for our universal "survival of the fittest" instinct. Yes, sports games are theoretically good for us from an socio-evolutionary perspective.

Sports games, like "casual" titles, may not be first-round draft picks for the so-called "hardcore" gaming crowd, but that does not mean that they are simply unimportant augmentations to the industry's catalog of games. The sports genre has been economically, socially, and developmentally significant to the videogame industry throughout its history, and will continue to be well into the future.

Polished Familiarity -- Crimson Gem Saga Review

It can be a bit of a grind and won't wow players with its originality, but Crimson Gem Saga from IronNos and Atlus is a fine traditional RPG experience that's easy to play and features an excellent user interface and attractive presentation.

Unlike the majority of traditional RPGs, Crimson Gem Saga is only partly serious. It features witty dialogue, colorful characters, and jokes that poke fun at games, pop-culture, itself, etc. The game's plot (one involving the return of a world-threatening power from a forgotten empire via a number of magical artifacts) is fairly generic as a whole, but its constituent parts -- individual scenes, character interactions -- make it enjoyable.

Character voice-overs are well done, and convey feelings of both conflict and chemistry between characters, and the overall musical backdrop is varied, appropriate, and catchy, ranging from militaristic marches to more foreboding tunes. Attentive RPG fans will hear heavy influences from prior games in the genre, which can be either a good or a bad thing.

Crimson Gem Saga's visual stylings match the the game's lighthearted nature. Backgrounds look like a mix of pencil and watercolor, and do a very good job of describing space in the game world. In some areas, though, there is a fair amount of graphical repetition. Sprites are small, but are still detailed and well-animated. Better are the overlayed character portraits, whose heavy outlines and soft, refined look illustrate the characters perfectly. Unfortunately, there is only one piece of artwork per character, and none are animated.

This turn-based RPG is very simple in terms of gameplay. Players will talk to non-player characters and watch cutscenes to figure out what to do next. These objectives are given as quests, which are organized into a list that is more of a do-this-next reminder than a collection of options to choose from. After adding a new quest, it's then out into the field to battle enemies on the way to each successive destination. Battles are menu-driven, each character having the option to attack, defend, use items, use skills, and try to escape the fight on their individual turns. Although enemies are visible in the field, eliminating random encounters, they are still difficult to avoid, and the player is encouraged to engage each as quickly as possible to gain the upper hand in combat. Skipping battles would leave player characters ill-prepared for future challenges anyway, so free choice is really just an illusion in this regard.

Characters level up frequently, fully restoring hit points and magic points, and curing all status ailments with every level. This allows players to stay in the field longer without draining resources, but also acts as an excuse for players to endure some fairly heavy grinding. In addition to the automated improvement of character stats with each level, players are also rewarded with skill points after every battle. These are pooled for the party and then used to unlock new in- and out-of-battle abilities via individual characters' skill trees. This helps to balance the hands-off feeling of the more traditional leveling-system. The downside to the skill trees is that they force players to first spend points to reveal skills and then again to learn them. It can be quite annoying.

Otherwise, the game's user interface is clear and easy to use, from battle options, to shops, to equipment, to the main menu. Nearly everything loads at a decent rate, although there are a few disappointing disc-read stutters at seemingly unnecessary junctures, such as adding points to character skills.

Crimson Gem Saga is a solid RPG that will appeal to traditional JRPG fans with its clean look and smooth gameplay, even if the story is a bit generic and leveling can be a chore. Those looking for something that pushes boundaries won't find it here, but it's still worth a look.

A City Of Strong Foundations -- Assassin's Creed II Preview

Assassin's Creed was an excellent game, but it did have its problems... have its problems... have its problems... you get the idea. The lack of variety in the game's missions was the number one complaint from gamers and critics alike when it was released in late 2007. Ubisoft was on hand at E3 with a brand new in-game demo of the sequel, and I had a chance to sit down for a closer look at Altair's successor. From what I saw, Assassin's Creed II seems to fix everything that was wrong with the first game and make a more complete and enjoyable experience for gamers in 2009.

The game picks up right where AC left off. Desmond, a descendant of the Assassin clan, is being held against his will by a "doctor" who is trying to use a machine to access the memories of Desmond's ancestors that persist in his DNA via a machine called the animus. It's a little far-fetched, of course, but we suspend disbelief. This time, players dive into the life of Ezio, a Venetian who lived during the time of the Italian renaissance.

Little about the story was revealed, aside from the fact that Ezio is not a trained assassin from the beginning, but learns his "craft" as the game progresses. This will be a revenge story, to give it a more personal feeling, but revenge on whom and for what has not yet been divulged.

Both fans and critics of the first game will be glad to find that the developers have been paying close attention to criticism, and will be improving the sequel's mission structure. Assassin's Creed II will feature a number of new mission types, and many of them will span multiple locations -- from city to city and through the two distinct countryside areas. These areas will no longer act as hubs from which to access isolated cities where the action takes place exclusively, but will be a cohesive world with smaller sections housed within it.

Ezio will also have a number of new moves at his disposal, such as dual-bladed assassinations that take out two guards at once, leaping strikes from high above his targets, mid-climb attacks, and even the ability to drag guards into hiding places for the kill. He'll also have new toys to play with, like Leonardo Da Vinci's famous Flying Machine. Da Vinci himself lends the invention to Ezio, and he's not the only real-life personality to show up in the story.

With all this help for the player, the enemies in ACII needed a boost, too. In this game, guards will specialize in order to counter the assassin's skills. The three "archetype" enemies are the brute, who is adept at close-quarters combat, the agile, who can run Ezio down regardless of his monkey-like free-running and climbing, and the seeker, who can detect Ezio in the formerly impervious hiding spots that dot the cities.

Ubisoft Montreal has also improved upon the better aspects of the original game, and have once again produced a stunning visual feast, with sprawling cities, country vistas, and lifelike character models. They've also added over 30 new weapons to Ezio's arsenal, each with its own set of beautifully choreographed animations. These will mostly be acquired by stripping them from enemies and immediately putting them to use, after which Ezio can choose to drop them or take them along for the next fight. Additionally, tools like smoke bombs will help Ezio to make clean escapes, and can be purchased with the newly introduced monetary system.

Assassin's Creed II was one of the most impressive games on display at this year's E3, and I can't wait to get my hands on the final build. The game is scheduled to hit store shelves on November 17th of this year for the PC, PS3, and Xbox 360.