Carmageddon Max Damage

a rage quit review

Carmageddon is FBT’s Spirit Animal. The reboot puts it down.

In the late nineties, there was a new breed of unapologetic video games; they didn’t signal the end times as the media and parents feared, they did something better – agitated the bland gaming landscape and forced it to grow up, get good. And now, yet again, the game industry has become corporate, cautious, careful. While most games from that original era sold out or burnt out, we have the return of the baddest of them all – the first game to be banned by the BBFC, the game that sent the Daily Mail into meltdown, the game that let you run over pedestrians – Carmageddon. When Carmageddon Regeneration was announced I was more than a little excited. Time to kick modern gaming in the cunning stunt.

I was more than a little disappointed when C:R was released. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but it was … meh. How could Carma be meh? Everything was there yet my beloved free-roaming, ped-killing, opponent-exploding Die Anna had become … inoffensive. I got bored. Bored! The power-ups were cartoony, the level design dull, the cars lacked that oomph, even the peds seemed indifferent to being run over. The original was Never Mind the Bollocks, this was Flogging a Dead Horse. I didn’t Rage Quit, I just got fed up and never went back. Until I saw Carmageddon Max Damage. A second chance. I was buying this.

Yes, I was stupid enough to buy the Carma Reboot twice. Max Damage is the premium version of Kickstarter’s Regeneration. Damnit. Is this karma for liking what the Daily Mail called a ‘sick death game’? Let’s see if Max Damage hits the spot.

The cars are all there, and the first track is the original’s Maim Street. Get in. I chose my beloved Die Anna, rev the Hawk and aim for the flag-waving guy. As I sail over the first hill, ready to become death … it feels a bit pointless. I’m having an existential crisis. Was the Daily Mail right? Have I become so desensitised that I’m unmoved when I run over a cheerleader? Have the past 20 years of ultra-violence been a gaming form of Ludovico? I look for Anna’s grinning face. Having a compatriot to all this mayhem will bring me back – no in-game Anna? Whoa. I hit the handbrake to swerve into the Peds. The car comes to a slow stop like I just performed an emergency brake in my driving test. The Peds all saunter off. Okay. Time for extreme measures.

I find the stadium and the electro-bastard ray is where I left it; but taking out the NFL teams and the crowds isn’t doing it either so I decide to get into it with the other cars to see if that livens things up, but it takes an age to find them let alone get into a fight, and I don’t get that screaming, out of control feel as I pootle along – you used to build up insane speed, bounce, careen, flip out of the map, land on a passing grandad or take out an opponent by accident; it was raucous, unruly, exhilarating, and Die Anna would woo-hoo along with you. Now neither of us are.

It’s a very empty game and nothing much happens by accident, but the problem is the original Carma’s attitude has become part of free-roam driving the same way Doom’s once dizzying action and grisly violence are embedded in modern FPS. Saint’s Row already aces this. It’s not dated, it’s just not necessary. But it’s not just an age thing. It’s also a not-very-good-thing.

The levels are boring to drive about in – they’re fun-looking, like the Area51 or the reworked classic levels, but miss that gritty, grimy feel; they’re much bigger and expansive than the original but that makes them less intense, unfocused. You don’t have those death-runs, those games of chicken. They’re also cluttered and uneven, causing the car to bounce around and that’s when it really starts to grate.

The Eagle and Hawk always felt like they wanted to get away from you in the original, and they were sturdy enough to let them. But now, with their wafer-thin build, they handle like they’re filled with helium. There’s no torque or grip, no sense of weight; how did a game released in 1997 better realise banger cars than the remake 20yrs later? You’re forever missing targets and sticking the corners, never just taking off. Getting a powerup requires a careful three-point-turn. Suddenly I’m being … careful. Still, we’ve still peds to kill. Well, no, because the cars have the turning circle of an oil tanker and alongside the ‘careful now’ handbrake you can’t lob the car about and catch peds on the fly – it’s rare see grandad fly off the bonnet in C:MD. On top of that, and this is a real Rage Quit moment …. it’s not about running people over anymore. Yes, a Carma game that’s not all about running people over. Did the Daily Mail develop this?

To have any real chance of progressing you have to play challenge missions; reach a ped or location first, destroy the most cars – basically all the stuff that requires precision driving and responsive cars. Great. All that happens is an opponent, who is a precision driver in a responsive car, reaches the goal first and the new target is halfway across a map that isn’t much fun to drive across and you’ll get beaten to anyway. FFS. What else?

In the original, you got money in-game and the time you finished with was converted into more to spend on car improvements. Now it’s transformed into XP which unlocks the levels, while upgrades are purchased with coins hidden in the game. Coins?! I’m Die Anna not Mario. I’m on a treasure hunt?! Plus, in the original, unlocked improvements could be attached to any car you stole. Coins upgrade cars individually now, which is a waste because most of the opponent’s cars handle worse than the Eagle. That it, can I quit now?

Thanks to the crappy cars and uneven levels, when you do get a Power-Up it’s over before you’ve had a chance at some fun, and the actionable powerups are no better. Because Anna is seemingly in a neck-support (understandable) you can’t aim them, only fire from the bonnet of your impossible to manoeuvre car. Why can’t I free-look/aim!? And the reward bonuses are thin on the ground, as if the game’s less aware of your actions; ‘Nice Shot, Sir!’ is a rarity no matter what you send flying into Peds, while ‘milk it’ pops up every time I hit a cow and ‘recycled!’ gets yelled when I knock a ped off a bike. I get it. And “wrecked’em” wasn’t funny the first time, let alone on every opponent kill, in every level, every time.

That’s it, I can’t take anymore. They got running over people wrong? They had two goes at this! Modern gaming can relax, this isn’t going to shake things up like the original did, even when you have the option to run over a man in a wheelchair – outrageous! Nope. Maybe in 1997 but now its desperate. I’ve done worse in better games that didn’t depend on outrage to be relevant. I would consider myself immature, juvenile, a man-child at a push but this just doesn’t work anymore as a concept, and as a driver game it’s pretty poor; the original still works because it’s a better game and because I remember when it was wrong. I love a throwback, a retro, a return, but if you’re going to return, have something to say. Something other than “I was in the war!” and think that’s still funny. It’s not Rage Quit, it’s Age Quit.

2015 Regeneration | 2016 Max Damage

Developer / Publisher Stainless Games

Platforms; Win (Steam/GOG)

Fallout 3

A blast from the past review

FBT falls-in with Fallout again.

The Past

It’s odd to do a Blast from the Past on a game that’s only a few years old. Sorry? Released 2008? TEN YEARS AGO?! It can’t be, Fallout 3 can’t be a decade old. Have I been frozen in a vault for all that time? I hope not, that would make a terrible basis for a Fallout game. Ten years…

For the longest time F3 was one of my fave games, easily in the top five, but over time it slipped away as I just couldn’t face repeating that huge slog through the wasteland, the impossible scale of it. Until Bethesda took free-roam indulgence to 100 with Skyrim, I couldn’t imagine a bigger game (other than their Morrowind). But although I call it a masterpiece, I just recall endless rubble, raiders and botflies, have flashbacks to never managing to reach my destination without being distracted. I remember having a crush on the off-kilter girl writing the Survival handbook, wearing a ghoul’s face for a mask and everyone chatting to me like it was normal to be walking about like Hannibal Lector. Wasn’t there a giant robot at the end? I know it was all to do with water and my Dad but the more I think about it, all I remember is that rubble, those raiders and damn botflies. I played it multiple times but I think I only finished it once; once all the DLC was added it never ended. It’s time to go be Liam Neeson’s sonaughter again. Ten Years!

Still a Blast?

Oh wow I remembered my own birth. As I go through the classes and appearances it’s a nice character build sequence. Bethesda always did those well, from Morrowind’s immigration questions to this glimpse into who I’ll be as we go from cute toddler to a bratty teen taking their aptitude test. It’s a nice way to get to know myself without being a preachy tutorial. I don’t get to know Mum, who dies in childbirth. Least I still have Dad though.

Dad’s gone! And somehow it’s triggered a riot. I escape the vault, my home for the last two decades, and it’s an oddly bitter-sweet moment. On my first playthrough TEN YEARS AGO I blazed through this sequence itching to get going but this time I’m a bit more relaxed about it. Vault life isn’t so bad. I even try sticking around after the riot but eventually everyone just tells me to leave. The party’s over. Wearing my Fonzie leather jacket and a birthday hat I got for my tenth birthday, I’m well prepared.

Following the original games’ overall story-arc, in 2077 a short-lived nuclear war broke out, with predicable results. Playing off paranoia and threat, “Vault-Tec” had begun building shelters all over the country (in this case, Washington DC) and now they had a captive audience. Vault-Tec added additional tests, events and scenarios to better understand human nature or something probably more insidious. Those in the vaults created their own societies for two hundred years, while outside, survivors and Vault-escapees did the same.

Stepping out into the wasteland still packs a punch. For a decade old F3 still looks great; games might have more pixels now but it’s all about belief and for all its sci-fi, F3 feels real. This is the aftermath of a nuclear war. In this reality though Apple never got out of Jobs’ garage; their style over substance approach is nowhere to be seen (maybe somewhere there’s a Vault that looks like an Apple Store). F3 is one of those fifties ‘the world of tomorrow’ films come to life. An over-designed, art deco, Vic-20 meets Nostromo world buried under an apocalypse. Ten years on and I’m still marvelling; Bethesda know how to build a world. Fallout 4 might have watered down the memory with its retread but this feels more gritty, more real; the immediate danger has passed but there’s no real hope of rebuilding. Instead, folks are eking out a living the best way they can; I just came from a vault which while restrictive, was safe and had water that wasn’t eradiated.

It turns out that’s what Dad was after all along. He was a huge fan of bottled water and his project, Purity, was a way to cleanse the area’s water and the first step towards rebuilding civilisation. But it’s taken a huge amount of steps to reach this point. Like all good RPGs, you follow the mission marker less ‘how the crow flies’ and more like ‘pissed bumble bee’. It’s impossible to walk in a straight line. There’s hundreds of things to go look at and those things have things in them that you spend hours ferreting through or send you off looking for other things that you don’t reach because other things. I’d forgotten how hard it is to get anywhere without being pulled somewhere else. What’s that?

The main mission is brilliantly done; our character has questions, there’s a nice tension between me and Pa, and Dad realises his kid doesn’t need him anymore. You can play the character as pissed off, indifferent or desperate but no matter how you react, nothing will be the same again. As you attempt to finish Dad’s Purity Project, you draw the attention of the Enclave, a remnant of the previous government who realise controlling the water is a means to reasserting power – coincidentally that’s the plot to Tank Girl and both antagonists are played by Malcom McDowell. I’m also dressed like Tank Girl.

It’s fun to dig into your inventory and work out what items you can cannibalise, although it’s not as detailed as I remembered, especially with the weapons. Similar items can be folded into others to raise their stats, but you never really alter or jury-rig stuff the way you should, leaving you to carry multiples of everything, weighing you down. Mostly you’ll be carrying junk, digging through everything like Steptoe in the hopes of uncovering something valuable – or a bobbypin so you can unlock items to find more junk. Although this does feel a bit endless and slows everything down, I’m still enjoying wandering eerie old schools and decrepit Nukacola factories hoping to find something. Usually bloody radroaches. Usually.

There’s a whole host of beasties to battle, and to help there’s the VATS system, which stands for something. You can pause and pick where you want to aim and you’re given a percentage of how likely the hit is. It’s a bit like an intellectual’s Bullet-time but fun watching the shootout in slow-mo. It’s also fun using VATS to fatboy a botfly. Swatted the bastard.

But, the botflies and radroaches soon give way to speedy giant scorpions and Guai; I’d forgotten about those werebear things; but I hadn’t forgotten about the bloody Deathclaws, apparently a war-time super-weapon gone awry. Also very awry are those Super-Mutants and their side-kicks, those nightmarish Centaurs. There’s also the ghouls, folks who survived the nuclear fallout but lost their sanity (and looks, but not their clothes. Even zombie America is concerned with modesty), and giant ants referencing the infamous fifties movie Them! but mostly we’re fighting raiders who figure the best course of action is swing a lead pipe at the gal in power-armour. When Fallout was adopted by Bethesda, there were grumblings from the original series’ fans that it would become The Elder Scrolls, and to be fair, it has. This is Oblivion without spell casting, but it’s a lot more focused and you do more digging around, and the setting is much more relatable. Plus, no Oblivion gates popping up every ten feet. It is its own game and ten years on I’m still finding new areas, new experiences and loving the post apocalypse.

The good thing is, unlike more recent RPGs (like Fallout 4), the main story is nicely non-urgent. Almost from the outset Dad says the water purification project won’t save the world and it’s freeing to not be that heroic, to not have pangs of guilt when I return to Megaton again to offload junk then go do something for folks who need this, want that, send you there. We’re getting a priest to realise he’s in love, putting a stop to cannibals (or not), and researching lovely Moira’s Wasteland Survival Guide. We’re looking for old civilisation artefacts, rescuing folks from Super Mutants and Slavers – unlike Fallout 4 and Skyrim’s disheartening ‘radiant missions’ this feels more realistic than endlessly visiting a smug Jarl who’s yet again bitching about a Dragon that’s outstayed it’s welcome. Instead, there’s just enough to lone wanderer into. Unless your lone wanderer prefers company.

Unlike Oblivion, followers are more than bullet-catching NCPs. The best is Dogmeat. A mutt we rescue, he becomes a doggo liability, running off to attack something ten times his size, falls off cliffs and constantly get in the way. After a short while I leave him at my digs in Megaton, terrified I’ll lose him. There’s various mercs, thrill-seekers and more than a few quest-related folks who make life interesting by following then disappearing, getting stuck or dying and leaving the mission unfinished forever. Followers haven’t been quite perfected in F3 and they kind of undermine the ‘Lone Wanderer’ shtick our character is rocking, but at least they can carry stuff for you. Just don’t give them anything valuable.

Another Oblivion nod is the Karma system. This was much better utilised in New Vegas, here it means getting pestered by do-gooders and having marginally better dialogue choices, but also draws the attention of mercenaries who don’t like nice people. If you decide to be a mercenary yourself, the ‘Regulators’ come after you instead, and being a dick doesn’t block you from mission opportunities, just more evil options once you’re mean enough (bye, Megaton hovel, hello penthouse in Tenpenny Tower).

I’d like to say a lots happened since F3 was released, but … has it? Playing this now, I realise RPG hasn’t moved on, it’s just repeated itself. F3, along with Oblivion, got it perfect and as I play and remember moments, events and set-pieces I realise how much Fallout 3 informed my expectations of RPG. It’s good. When’s the last time you had a hundred-foot-tall robot as a follower? F3’s scenery does become samey but there’s so much layered into the game that it becomes more than endlessly clambering over a tip. The loose societies and clans that have sprung up, the communities like Megaton or Rivet City and heavy-handed groups like Enclave and Brotherhood of Steel – this is how its going to go when someone finally presses the button.

When you add in a compelling but unpressured main story, tons of side-missions and events, and some stellar characterisations and observations, you’ve got a decade old game that’s timeless. Graphics might continue to impress and advance, and one day Fallout 3 might seem creaky and basic, but it’s spirit will still be indomitable and that’s missing from modern RPG; Fallout 4 and Skyrim included.

Like lovely Moira’s Wasteland Survivor’s Guide, Fallout 3 should be required gaming for anyone planning on taking up RPG so they understand how it’s done; and it should be a tutorial for anyone planning on developing one – and that includes Bethesda. Fallout 3 is back in my top games list. Play Fallout 3; make Liam Neeson proud.

2008! Developer; Bethesda Softworks | Publisher; Bethesda Publishing

Platforms Win, X360/One, PS3

Far Cry Primal

a second wind review

FBT is the missing link in the latest Far Cry spin-off

About the only series to recycle itself more than Far Cry is it’s stable-mate Assassin’s Creed. I’m amazed they’ve not created a cross-over or just merged them; Assaassin’s Cry. Since FC 3, it’s always the same, even repeating the plot – regular guy gets stranded, bonds with locals, sees off oppressor, gets shitty choice at end. But this Far Cry is set in pre-history, it can’t follow the routine that closely, can it? We are Ugg (actually Takkar but I prefer Ugg) who gets isolated when his hunting party is crashed by a Sabre-Tiger. Left stranded, Ugg discovers his people, the Wenja are hunted by other tribes and it’s up to Ugg to drive them off. That’s every other Far Cry. FC is becoming Groundhog Day the Video Game.

Actually, that’s a little unfair. FC:P is easy to dismiss as Far Cry in melee mode, but the setting does demand change and it’s there that Primal evolves into something interesting. There’s no machine guns or vehicles, so being out in the woodlands leaves you feeling exposed; you develop a tense, cautious approach. Whereas in typical FC gameplay you’d stomp through the undergrowth, confident a shotgun volley will put down a tiger or pirate, here you’ve got a bit of flint and a club. It’s a lot more, well … primal.

Ugg rescues Sayla, a lone Wenja medicine woman who explains the local tribe is being hunted by the Udam -for food- and has scattered. Determined to re-establish the clan, Ugg and Sayla begin building a village by saving Wenja from Udam hunting parties and the like. Soon, he’s got a little commune going and convinces a shaman with a wolf’s head for a hat to help. I’m sure there’s a wiki article justifying a caricature from some 80s game like Custer’s Revenge but the witch doctor is invaluable, teaching Ugg to tame an owl, which is the coolest thing in a Far Cry game since Jason had hallucinogenic sex with Citra.

Essentially, Ugg has invented a Drone. The owl can circle ahead, tag objects and animals, roam around and best of all, dive-bomb. Lower-level enemies can be killed by it, while armoured ones weakened and eventually offed too. The Owl can even be weaonised, dropping smoke and crazy bombs which presumably it stole from a nearby Assassin’s Creed Sequence. It can also drop bee-hives and unlock caged animals; Droney the owl is easily one of the best things in FC:P, I can’t wait for it to reappear in every new Far Cry game. But Droney is just the first animal Ugg gets to grips with – alongside his burgeoning village, Ugg is setting up a petting zoo.

In Blood Dragon, our hero Rex could attract Dragons by lobbing a cyber-heart. In Far Cry 4, our hero (whatever his name was, Mum’s Ashes Guy) could attract animals by lobbing meat. In Primal, Ugg can attract animals by lobbing meat – and now tame them. You’d expect it to be a tricky, terrifying affair but it’s easy; just hold down a button. The result is a new furry friend – any equal or lower animal will scarper while you have your pal around, and it’s nice to have company too, I spent more time petting my wolf than I do exploring and I feel a pang of guilt when I upgrade it to a bigger animal (or smaller, in the case of the Crazy Nastyass honey badger. Even the sabre-tigers take off when that maniac is on the loose). They can be wounded but reviving them is possible – even if they die (and I accidentally skinned one of my pets once) they can be brought back with a potion. You’d expect to have to re-tame a downed animal but no, a couple of leaves will do it. I was all upset until I noticed the revival option. Wolfie!

Although there’s no vehicles, you do get to ride the bigger animals you tame. It’s a shame it doesn’t go into third-person when you mount your big cat or bear, it must look amazing, and there’s several alpha versions that can be tamed too, including the uber-tiger from the beginning. They do act a little like classic Fallout 3 companions, taking misjudged routes to reach you, getting stuck or attacking something clearly too big for them, but they’re great. You can direct them, it crouches when you do, they growl at things and see off attackers; they become an absolutely necessity out in the wilds. The only ones you can’t tame are the mammoths, although you can ride the smaller ones, if you can get past the parents …

I really struggled with offing families of Mammoths, orphaning the baby and watching it circling its dead mum; I stopped doing it in the end and part of the reason for that is it has no real impact beyond you stocking up on fur and meat. It’s natural for Ugg to do it, but we should be taking that huge carcass back to the camp or something, make it a bit more meaningful, or at least realistic; why is Ugg taking on an entire Mammoth herd with nothing but a honey badger? Usually out of self-defence; get one pixel too close and its game on. Being chased by the bull is terrifying. Not even running into the water can save you – not only can they wade but the crocs from FC3 are back. It’s just a shame you can’t tame the crocs, surfing one as a reskinned jetski would’ve made Primal the best game ever.

To help fortify the village, Ugg tracks down legendary Wenja; a famed hunter, a crazy craftsman (who introduces himself by pissing on Ugg) and a feared fighter who kills Udam for sport. They have nice little side missions that help Ugg build himself up. There’s even an ancestor of FC3’s Hurk, who has some advanced if idiotic ideas. Aside from the spear, bow and club, all of which can be upgraded, you also get rock shard to stab or throw, including ones tipped with crazy-poison (AC Ugg again) and a sling to lob stones. You’re a back to basics mud-covered Arnie and it’s so much fun; XP rewards are nicely balanced and put you in-tune with the world and the animals. As the little village starts to grow it becomes a lovely little spot to return to, genuinely idyllic and pleasant, with kids running about and folks doing their thing. Naturally it doesn’t last. Having caught the eye (and the stomachs) of the Udam, the boss man, UII, cuts through and threatens to have us for dinner. To protect the village, Ugg kidnaps ‘Dah’, a Udam warrior and from him we learn various skills – and that the Udam are dying from disease; and think Wenja meat will cure them. They’re dangerous and primitive but they’re not savages, we see them caring for their children too and realise they’re just another tribe trying to survive. It’s a nice change from FC’s usual boo-hiss villains and as I soften to Dah, and he explains their plight, I wonder if FC:P will let us make peace with them; nope. That would go against FC policy. Shame.

FC:P can’t quite shake off the FC structure; true to form, the main missions all feel familiar and not doing the main mission feels familiar too – we’re attacking camps and outputs. But, FC:P’s approach is the best we’ve seen for a while. Letting your owl get the lay of the land is a great start, as is using it to pick off lookouts, open cages or do strafing runs. Once Droney’s done his business, send in one of your menagerie and ‘snipe’ with your bow while the Udam freak out. At least, that’s the plan. The Udam seem to have evolved from Far Cry 3’s pirates; one arrow ten feet above their heads and they know exactly where you are, and they’re masters at spear-lobbing. The whole thing devolves into a fun scrap with spears, arrows and clubs flying about everywhere – most of which can be lit too, adding a fiery edge to everything. You’re vastly outnumbered and never better armed but a hard-won victory really makes you feel like you’re establishing the Wenja. I’m devolving and I like it.

Now da (cave)man, Ugg can strike out with some confidence; the world is huge and interesting, with cave formations, valleys, woods and rivers to venture through. Ugg gets a very modern grappling hook allowing him to FC4-it up cliff faces, and like all open-worlds, there’s tons of collectables to ignore. As beautiful as it is, its not the kind of world where you can just wander and see where the day takes you; if nothing else, because you don’t want to be caught out at night. A real show stopper is the night-day cycle. After dark the really big bads show up and facing down a pack of wolves, their eyes glinting in the moonlight is unnerving, scary stuff. You can’t see anything except the occasional glint or hear wolves and cats scrapping. You can use fire to keep things at bay, but only for so long.

It’s a real fun challenge to ignore fast-travel and just try to reach safety. A nice touch is pretty much everything can be crafted enroute, there’s no shops so you’re literally hunter-gathering for specific items – types of wood, rock and skin; there’s a lovely survivalist feel to Primal instead of the standard fast-travel to a shop, restock then fast-travel back again. It’s just you and nature. And those bloody crocs. They didn’t even have crocs in ancient Europe.

One staple of the FC series is its tendency to change up in the final third, but while Primal has that, it’s more on Ugg’s abilities as to when it happens. Besides the Udam threat, Wenja are being sacrificed by the Izila, an advanced tribe established in a tougher region. Once strong enough, Ugg goes to rescue the Wenja but is easily outmatched. After Ugg escapes, the Izila’s Citra-lite leader declares war, forcing Ugg to capture one of her advisors, Roshani, for their agriculture and warmongering skills. The Izlia are very tough opponents, and nowhere near as much fun as the Udam, but they do provide the standard FC fantasy sequences as we dig into their sun-worshipping region. They have advanced techniques and more complex camp layouts, but it’s not really enough; by the time you’re encountering them, FC:P has reached an evolutionary dead end.

Midway through you start to realise this is all there is – roaming the same valley, encountering the same enemies and animals, the same situations. The Izila don’t alter it enough and there’s just not enough going on to cover how light and repetitive it really is. It is an Open World Shooter after all, but it’s reputedly as big as Far Cry 4 and that’s too big when there’s not much in there. It should have been Blood Dragon – a quick, fun romp through 10,000BC – or go more RPG; have Ugg invested in the village, more interaction with the tribe – it would have been great to build up hunting parties to go after a mammoth, take Wenja with you when exploring, help gets crops started; in every other Far Cry you’re trying to escape the region, but here you should be making a home; it’s like playing Skyrim but only doing the main mission; so much is being missed. It could have been amazing to make peace with the Udam, who are also victimised by the Izila, or fall in with the Izila to put down the neanderthal Udam, open it up a little; one tribe could provide better protection, the other advancements; you decide where the Wenja are headed. Anything but another FC with added AC; Ugg even has ‘the sight’, able to sense animals, objects and foes around him. You never shake the feeling you’ve done this before.

Still, there’s a lot of effort gone into FC:P – the representation of pre-historic life feels very believable and the taming animals and the Owl really change the dynamic; the characters are amazing too – Primal is trying, and when we finally take the fight to both the Udam and Izila bosses it’s not FC’s event-driven button mashing; they’re curiously old-school with health-bars and waves of baddies in arenas. But there is a rather effecting end with Dah, which again just makes you wish FC:P had struck out on its own; rather than a spin-off it could have been a reboot. Instead it’s too bedded in the standard FC world and that’s at an evolutionary dead end. Still, it’s the best Far Cry since 3 and until it runs out of ideas, one of the more original open-world FPS (First Person Spearers) of ancient times; go find your inner caveman.

2016 | Developer Ubisoft Montreal | Publisher Ubisoft

Platforms; Win (Steam/Uplay), PS4, XO

Test Drive Unlimited

a second wind review

FBT lives the driving-sim dream

I avoid dedicated Driving games – I’m a strictly Carmageddon, Driver, Saints Row and GTA driver; games where I can go off road and over pedestrians. I can’t stand track-games, winning by going round in circles. I want my car to be a weapon. And I really can’t stand the idea of Driving Sims; why would I digitally behave? TDU seemed like GTA without the GT. But I’ve come to accept I’ll never own a Bugatti Veyron, so the closest I’ll get is a game like TDU, putting me behind a wheel I’ll never afford.

Doesn’t even look like I’ll get to drive a digital Veyron. TDU is, or was, bolted to Gamespy and once that went, so did the servers and ability to connect. Although TDU can play offline, it was very insistent about being logged into Gamespy – encouraging me with the warning “you won’t be able to finish the game completely”. Well that sucks. Luckily, I can skip by assuring TDU I’ll never be good enough to reach the end anyway.

We open with a nice little scene-setter – picking my character from a passport line, I’m flown to Hawaii to rent a low-end car then purchase a house. No reason, no backstory, no further plotting. We literally have $ to spend and time to fill. With what I have left I pick my first car (should not have bought the most expensive house) – a dinky Golf R32. If I squint it kinda looks like a Veyron.

Although the map is open, I can only trigger missions/races by discovering them. It’s kinda like a car-based Skyrim. I put my foot down and … nothing. Turns out I have to turn the key with a separate button, something that will constantly infuriate me as I get into it. The first icon I discover is a Ben Sherman shop – at first I assumed product placement but I can actually visit and buy clothes. I’m not racing for Ben Sherman shirts. I consider rage quitting but you can’t really rage quit in a Golf, and once I zoom into the map I realise there is a lot to do here; challenges, races, missions, plus dozens of very posh looking houses and what seems like hundreds of cars. Everything way out of my price range. I have a purpose. This really is feeling like an RPG but instead of bringing peace or justice to the land I’m buying it up like some tax-dodging absent landlord who gets his Veyron towed and just buys another one. There’s also clubhouses where you can hang with other drivers, buy and sell cars, and the island itself acts much like an online world with other drivers logging in. Except not anymore. It’s just me and the AI.

The main issue with TDU is your fellow drivers. They’re not dangerous but they are stupid. They will indicate, which is helpful, but often make last minute lane changes, break suddenly or just pull over. It’s fraught. Although your cars can’t be damaged, the worry is a bump slows you down and every millisecond counts; winning means $ and when granny decides to change lanes it’s the difference between affording a Cadillac and a Veyron. I can’t be sure if they’re reacting to me, other drivers or just doing random stuff, but it can be frustrating. The game also cheats to keep up with you so once you have a speedy little number you’ll suddenly spot some titchy little car scream across the intersection to catch up, making it hard to anticipate. But you can anticipate the cops blaming you for it.

Although the cops don’t seem concerned with speed – I’ve passed them at 400kph before (Not in my Golf, mind) and never gotten a flash but if I clip an AI’s wing mirror they’re on me like it’s GTA5. And they’re tenacious. You’ll hear the call go over the radio then have to avoid them until the heat dies down. The more mayhem you cause (Or the AI Cars cause for you) the worse it gets until they’re throwing up roadblocks and cornering you. It’s not like Driver where it turns into Car Wars, if you keep out of sight long enough they’ll give up, but every time they spot you it’s reset and a lot of the roads don’t have many options. Going off road pauses the meter so the second rubber touches asphalt again they’re on you. And getting pulled over means a hefty fine. It’ll take two or three races to make that back.

Money is as free-flowing as the game is free-roam. Most races will net you from $1,000 up to and beyond $100,000 – soon you’re buying up the most insane houses and filling the garages with cars and bikes and it becomes more than just race, race, race. Well it is purely racing, but if you get your head into an RPG state of mind, TDU is something special. It’s not just a driving sim, it’s a lifestyle sim. I am a Rockstar sauntering out, staring at my motors and deciding which to take for a spin and see where the day takes me. I didn’t expect it but there’s something incredibly cool about swaggering into a dealership, your wallet flush, and buying your first hyper-car. When the cut scene plays of you driving it out, it’s as cool as leveling up or upgrading a weapon – you smirk and can’t wait to take it out for a spin.

The ‘quests’ are usually pretty cool, stuff like “160mph in heavy traffic” or go quick enough to set off speed cameras. You can pick up rich wives (well, ‘Models’), assuming you have a cool enough car and they’ll give you their unused Groupons for clothing stores if you didn’t ruffle their hair. It’s a bit of a low prize, especially considering how rough some of them are. The routes, not the wives. Hitchhikers don’t care what jalopy you’re in but like the Model Wives, too much jostling and they’ll bail. I’ll never get that Ben Sherman shirt at this rate. Courier missions are a bit more GTA-like; while the package doesn’t care about being lobbed about, you will care about the cops on your tail and the tight time limit. There’s also missions where you rock up to some rich dude’s house and drive his car to his other house. Those are high-earners, but they come at a high cost; if you chip his car your earnings will take a beating. So go easy, obey the Highway Code and all is well, right? Wrong, because there’s a car out there all TDU drivers fear … The Ghost Car.

Endless amounts of time I smack into a car that isn’t there. It triggers police interest, costs me valuable credits, ruins my speed laps, has cost me 1st. It’s costing me a Veyron. You’ll have no inkling, just a sudden cloud of smoke, sparks and police sirens. They don’t even appear afterwards, a victim of slow-ass Draw Distance. They’re just not rendered, only the collision. You’re concentrating on passing one car only to hit one you didn’t even know was there – they’re like Velociraptors. I had a perfectly good Sunday afternoon bike ride ruined by a ghost car. Wound up costing me nearly $100,000 in fines by the time the police had caught me – and how did they catch me? I ran into another invisible car.

‘Side-quests’ aside, the races and high-performance challenges are where the big money is, and in order to do them you step up in classes; designated by the cars you buy. The higher the class, the classier the car required. While the physics and handling are very 2006, the cars do all differ, and it’s also about getting to know the island. Like an RPG, know what you’re driving into, start getting tactical with your car choices. Then you’ll start earning. It’s so much fun getting enough money to rev out of the showroom with something as beautiful as a … well, they’re all beautiful.

The Ferrari Enzo, Pagani Zonda, Koenigsegg, the Vanquish; they’re eye-watering. The Maserati MC12 might look like art incarnate, but it handles like it’s on ice. Still, look at it. But for me, it was the Saleen S7 Twin-Turbo. That thing GOES. I passed 430kph before losing it. It was exhilarating being in the driving seat. You can change views, from behind to driver’s seat to basically sitting on the bonnet and they all provide a different experience. But if you want to just to pootle around town, I recommend the McLaren F1 GTR, a snip at $1.5 mil. Sounds like the devil’s having a coughing fit when you floor it. It’s no Veyron, but damn.

But it’s not all hyper-cars – I’m not compensating for something. There’s classics in here. Maserati 3500 GT, Lambo Miura, E-Type Jag and the Aston Zagato. When you get in one of those you feel like 60’s-era Michael Caine, James Bond, The Saint (hang on, he drove a Volvo) – you get a real sense of accomplishment, excitement – when you drive those cars into your eight-garage house with an infinity pool, you’ve arrived. You earnt this. Stroke the dash, rev the engine, peal out of the driveway, and smash into a Ghost Car.

Muscle cars are taken care of too; Camaro, Mustang, Firebird, the Ford GT and the Shelby GT. Plus there’s concept cars, AC, TVR, some oddities and the low-end starter cars which shouldn’t be ignored. Who am I kidding, they’re totally ignored but you’ll buy them anyway because you’re so freaking rich.

Once you’re in the top-class cars, the games really step up. It’s cool to come across a race for just Ferrari’s, like an exclusive little club. Best thing though, it goes by make not model, so get yourself the best of the bunch, then pile it over to a garage and get it pimped. My fave was finding a race for Alpha Romeros and rocking up in my Competizione, unlocked only by completing the Tour of the Island challenge. It’s a zippy little filly but luxurious too. I feel like I should be wearing driving gloves and a flat-cap playing this game.

There’s bikes too, which for the most part just show how basic the physics are. Ranging from Triumphs to Ducatis, riding them does call to mind GTA VC-style cornering and steering. As in, they don’t do either. But I bought them all anyway because I look fabulous in leathers.

Some of the cars have hidden qualities, especially if you upgrade them; a middling c-class is suddenly a dark horse that can trouble a Ferrari, but it’s here that the game struggles. Each house you buy has a number of garages, and while you can tour the garage of the home you’re in, you only get a text list of the others, which doesn’t compare cars at a glance. As such, that XJ220 that can ruin anything else in the B-class is constantly missed because you’re flicking back and forth trying to remember what it’s called or track all their stats – that’s one hell of a first world problem to have, too many houses and cars but it’s an annoyance when you know there’s the perfect car and you can’t find it.

Unlike it’s cars, TDU hasn’t aged that well, the ghost cars are a major frustration as is the bloody start button and the menu sucks, plus there’s the coupons – since you only see yourself lounging or getting into or out of cars it seems a bit redundant; I get that I have to look the part but do I need to scroll through 24 Ben Sherman shirts? To be honest, there’s nothing in TDU that we haven’t played in other racer games, and many have done it better. Without Ghost Cars. And now Gamespy is no more, TDU is unsupported; some cars are missing due to online activation and there’s no DLC to download anymore – But, by the near-end of it all I had amassed the kind of car and house collection only billionaires dream of.

Because you’re not battling a leader board or trying to win a season, losing doesn’t matter so much. Just go back to one of your ten garages and pick one of two dozen cars and try again. Some of the races and challenges are insanely hard/unfair, but as a sim, a genre I avoid, it’s brilliant. In real-time, I drove my Enzo on a Cannonball Run called the Millionaire’s Cup around Hawaii’s coasts, bringing it 1 minute 10 seconds under the one-hour limit. That meant something; I drove a Ferrari for nearly an hour straight and loved every minute. And netted $1Mill in the process. It’s awesome.

While I tried very hard to turn TDU into GTA, eventually I realised I was missing out on the sheer joy of just driving. I still drove like a loon, but there’s just something classy about TDU, taking the scenic route in a E-Type is pure wish fulfillment. It’s one of those laid-back games that doesn’t put pressure on you yet makes it very hard to leave.

Just one last tour of my garages, maybe a quick drive into the mountains with some Frank playing. Think I’ll take the …

Wait, there is no Bugatti Veyron. I bet that’s the Ghost Car …

2006 | Developer, Eden Games | Publisher, Atari Inc.

Platforms; Win | PS2 | X360

Mad Max

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

In this extended playthrough review, FBT tucks into some Dinki Di and revs his way through Mad Max. One man enters, one man auto saves.

Games based on films usually fall into two groups; the first, ‘tie-in’ games supporting a movie release – cheap, quick and nasty, there’s a special hell is reserved for them alongside child molesters and those who talk at the theatre (When is that Firefly game coming out?) The second, games based on past movies fare better but generally we get less The Warriors, more Jaws Unleashed and middling exceptions such as Enter the Matrix, Die Hard Nakatomi Plaza and Avatar; you had to really love the film to forgive those. There is a third way, games acting as spin-offs, but The Thing, Stranglehold, Butcher Bay etc. worked only because they reference the original then do their own thing; but again, for every Alien Isolation there’s an Aliens Colonial Marines. And don’t get me started on TV-series tie-ins; 24, X-Files, CSI even The Shield and Sopranos have been digitally ruined. Movies based on games don’t fare much better and there’s a reason both fail to emulate the other; the experience. Games can be cinematic but they’re not cinema. Films can be involving but you’re not involved. They should just leave each other alone.

If the game-based-on-a-movie tag wasn’t enough reason to avoid Mad Max the video game, the bigger problem is we’ve already played it – not the 1990 NES game, that was Max in name only, but we’ve gamed as Max-by-proxy for years; any apocalyptic wasteland game is Max-inspired the same way a rain-soaked neon future is Bladerunner (which had two games). We’ve never gotten to be Max, never driven the Pursuit Special while acting out Fifi’s immortal line ‘People don’t believe in heroes anymore? Well damn them! You and me Max, we’re gonna give ‘em back their heroes!’

Plus, do we want to play Max? He’s not exactly the kind of character you want to inhabit. He’s too complex -for all his simplicity- to be reduced to a game perspective, and even the movies played fast and loose with the continuity and motivations, which makes a game adaption tougher; what kind of game is it? It can’t be a driving game, it can’t be FPS, that only leaves RPG – Which makes sense in that Max lives in a wasteland, but still, he’s the very definition of linear; he drives in a straight line, always away from his past – he doesn’t make a home, he doesn’t join guilds and he’s not the kind of guy given to helping Randoms. Max on a side mission? Sacrilege! Yet that’s exactly the genre that developers Avalanche decided on. And the bad omens continued; it was delayed for nearly a year then a teaser revealed Max with an American accent. Later trailers announced in full-screen text ‘you are Max’ – If a trailer for Mad Max has to spell out you’re Mad Max, it’s in trouble and the gameplay looked like it was Fury Road based but they couldn’t afford Tom Hardy. This is a tie-in isn’t it. Shit. Looks like we’re headed for another Rambo The Video Game.

But the thing is, while Max never thrives, he does survive; survived Toecutter, Immortan Joe, Lord Humungus and even Tina Turner. Can he survive a Tie-In?

Fittingly, we first find Max behind the wheel of the V8 PS Interceptor. Eyes locked on the horizon. Like Fury Road’s opening, Max is ambushed by Warboys – but this time led by a giant called Scrotus, who wants a V8. Left for dead and without his Interceptor, Max inherits a dog, thrown from Scrotus’ War Rig for failing to tear Max’s throat out. The two scavenge along until meeting a deformed and clearly unstable mechanic named Chumbucket; Chum has been designing the ultimate wasteland car, his Magnum Opus, and after seeing the fight with Scrotus, believes that Max is a Saint sent by the Angel of Combustion to make Opus soar. Okay then. We can go along with that if it means getting a new car.

Problem is, not only is the Opus unfinished, she’s not a V8. Chum explains there’s various local strongholds under threat from Scrotus and they will have the tools he needs to finish the Opus; and we’ll need the Opus battle-ready to reach Gastown, the only place we’ll find a V8. It’s standard RPG to create a situation where various hoops must be jumped through to gain the final prize, but those hoops, this prize works for Max. It’s minimalist, there’s no distractions and it justifies tearing about in the Opus. We slide behind the wheel. Cue engine roar. Cue shiver-down-back as I, Mad Max, drive into the wasteland.

A Fury Road prequel of sorts, we’re in what’s left of a world ravaged by a resource war, that triggered an environmental collapse, which lead to a worldwide plague, resulting in a societal breakdown. Now that’s an apocalypse. Huge rusted ship hulls litter the land as we drive through bleached coral, dusty seaweed and the occasional whale skeleton – we’re in a dry ocean bed; the Grand Canyon meets the Great Barrier Reef, and it has a sickly sense of death to it; whereas Fallout suggested humanity was at least surviving, rebuilding, all we find here are bodies; things are not going to get better. This is the end. But the end looks great, it’s a detailed, believable-looking game.

And as a game, MM is as stripped back as it’s possible to make an RPG. Max travels light. There’s no backpack full of junk to sell, no wardrobe choices beyond upgrades; he takes only what he needs and gets it by scavenging derelict camps – but stepping outside the safety of the Opus comes at a cost. The wasteland of Max is incredibly dangerous; not Borderlands gimme-a-break dangerous but you’re never going to just wander like Elder Scrolls. Factions run rampant in the wasteland and will come running when they hear the Opus pull up; leaping, punching and kicking at Max, throwing stones or worse. Others burst out of the sand in sneak attacks or wait in the shadows; expect to fight for that tin of Dinki-Di.

Strictly speaking, MM is a brawler game; he does have a rudimentary shotgun with a few shells and a couple of one-stab shivs but he’s mostly a fist man. He can also momentarily arm himself with a melee weapon, including the ‘Thunderpoon’, a type of bang-stick that can be thrown or melee’d with awesome and messy results and uses gas-cans as explosives but most of the time Max is battering heads into walls or the Opus’ hood if not throwing some mean WWE moves; the fights are desperate scraps but it’s not a button-mashing scrum. Reminiscent of WB’s Arkham City (Okay it’s not reminiscent, it’s blatantly the same mechanic and Max has a ‘fury mode’ to unlock quick finishes ending in slow-mo take-downs – I’m Batmad), it’s more of a ballet than a brawl; it’s all about anticipating and timing the beatings you throw down.

Besides the two-legged risks in the wasteland, there’s obviously the four-wheeled ones. The Opus isn’t invincible, but this is where MM becomes something really special. There’s raiding parties patrolling and they don’t just ram, they work together, clamber out of their cars to leap onto yours or lob things to make you crash. It is the most thrilling drive experience in an age, better than any 5-star wanted moment in GTA. It’s terrifying, exciting and random; you get that panic as cars appear on the horizon while you’re scavenging. You race back to the Opus and they give chase; suddenly the Opus is damaged, you’re out of shells, you’re trying to ram one into a cliff-face while avoiding another adorned with spikes, there’s a raider on the hood and you’re running out of road. The Opus bursts into flames and you’re rolling in the dirt trying to avoid them making you their hood ornament, then they pull up, jump out and mob you as the commotion attracts yet more. It’s fantastic.

Each faction has a different style of car, attack and attitude but they’re all insane. Sometimes you’ll find them parked up and catching some rays. Run them over. Sometimes you’ll run them over and then realise they weren’t Warboys but Wanderers desperate for water. Sorry. Destroying cars also yields precious scrap – everything is a commodity in the wasteland. Driving around you’ll come across oil-stained paths criss-crossing the sand. Follow it and you’ll find a truck ferrying Gas to the nearby outposts. Taking on the convoy is just a huge, breathless, desperate fight-on-wheels as you whittle down the convoy to just the Gas rig. Besting it nets you a hood ornament which gives mini power-ups. You’ll need it.

The Opus is just great fun to drive, easily one of the best in-game vehicles gaming has produced. It’s so compelling you often get yourself into trouble just to push its limits. The Opus is your home, a Sacred Place as Chum calls it, and as level-ups unlock it’s potential, you tinker with it as much as Chum does to get it just right for your style. It can be a bullet or a bomb and Avalanche have put a huge amount of work into making sure we love it as much as Chum does. Everything from the muscle-car feel, the growl, the fire it’s exhausts spit, just the feel and thrill of throwing it around; perfect. Max however stays stoically silent on the subject. He’s not a silent hero but he is taciturn and minimalist, only saying what’s necessary, only doing what’s needed. Sticking to the attitude we know from the movies, you’re an MFP Officer, the road warrior, the raggedy man. My name is Max.

Despite Max’s focus, we’ve got some exploring to do. Tethered hot-air balloons let you pinpoint what needs doing to lower the Scrotus threat such as giant flaming scarecrows with bodies flayed on them that need to be pulled down, and for that we get a Harpoon gun that can also be used on the cars, or the occupants of cars, gates outside enemy camps, pretty much anything destructible. It’s great fun. There’s sniper posts as well, but Max gets his own car-mounted ‘lead slinger’ as Chum calls it; I’d assumed Chum would take on the role of mission-giver but he rides with Max, hanging on for dear life. Chum isn’t nearly as annoying as I first imagined; he gets nervous around camps and concerned if we’re not tending to the Opus’ needs. He’s chatty, pointing out locations or dangers (he’s a big fan of the ‘mighty duster’ sandstorms) and he’s also cheeky, asking why you got in the Opus on the wrong side and he’s geeky; when a wanderer marvels at some event saying “Surely that wasn’t you?” Chum pipes up with “It was, and don’t call him Shirley!” – he even quotes Aliens.

Chum will help fight off faction interlopers when they climb aboard and repair the Opus when you exit, meaning you’re not forced to limp to a garage after every battle; you’re often exiting the flaming Opus though, then distracting the factions long enough for Chum to repair her. Hurry up! You control the Opus’ Harpoon gun via Chum and he’ll drive while you snipe which is a nice touch, he really grows on you but he’s not Max’s only companion; if you take Chum’s buggy into the wasteland, Dog will come along to sniff out locations and mine fields. Disarming them will lower Scrotus’ threat level as will accidentally driving into them (irritating Chum as he repairs the flaming Opus). Best way to deal with mines is luring in a Warboy then watch him become a Was-boy.

They have missed a trick with choosing your companion though. Waiting for Dog to sniff out a mine is laborious and he never leaves the buggy, and without Chum to repair the car it’s dangerous too. I know Max is a lone hero n’all and doesn’t have the best history with doggos but if they can’t both fit in the Opus it could have been interesting to at least position it as choosing a defensive or offensive pal when you roll out into the wilderness; Chum can repair the Opus but can’t fight while Dog can’t hold a wrench but he’ll come along and chew through Warboys.

When we’re not thinning out his troops, we’re ruining Scrotus’ businesses. In each area there’s refineries, oil dumps and re-enforcement camps. They can be entered by using their own vehicles, but we’re not gonna do that. Once the Opus has weakened the camp enough to enter, Max is on his own and they know you’re coming; Prepare for some serious Batmaning. Most camps will have a War Crier, a lookout suspended from a crane who also beats a drum to Buff up the Warboys like Max’s Fury Mode. Great. If you take everyone out before him, he’ll drop the bluster and half-heartedly suggest you don’t kill him too. On occasion Criers can be reached from outside with the harpoon/sniper, which is very satisfying. Each region always has the same requirements – scarecrows, minefields, snipers, and Camps have the same ‘ruin this’, ‘blow up that’ parameters, but they’re all laid out differently and never a push over; and then there’s the Top Dog camps. Mini bosses. Taking out their mega-camps is a painful process but a good challenge and it’s only the Top Dogs themselves that are disappointing; they all follow a variation on the same fight technique and it’s a shame they’re not as unique an experience as their bases.

As Max barters for Opus tech by doing Stronghold missions that aid whatever ails them, he can also help make them better – but they always benefit him. Finding the plans for a water-catcher, oil containers etc. mean Max gets refilled upon re-entering a stronghold, making them invaluable upgrades. They’ll also collect stray scrap for Max, saving you constantly exiting the car to pick up materials. Stronghold missions revolve around typical RPG ‘go somewhere really dangerous to get something’ missions, but they’re always fun and often reference key points from the movies. About the only truly RPG side mission is one where Max performs legendary leaps to inspire the locals and he does come across races but they’re optional – although racing allows you to return for a free gas top up. The races will have set criteria and some require different cars entirely. Throughout the wasteland Max can find high-value cars and add them to a garage; it’s the only element that doesn’t feel right. Why does he care, where’s he storing them, why isn’t Chum stripping them for the Opus? Taking a faction’s car does mean driving without drawing that factions’ attention but it’s hardly worth it and even ‘legendary’ cars are no match for the Opus. That the locals would deify cars and oil makes sense, but not Max.

No RPG would be complete without Levelling Up. When Max reaches a Legendary reputation level (from Road Kill to – of course – Road Warrior) a mysterious drifter called Griffa appears to give you a headache. He reflects incomprehensibly on the past and seems to know Max and his pain in intimate detail. It’s implied he might be a figment of Max’s, his conscience trying to let go of the past; or he might be some drifter who had a similar experience, helping Max take on Scrotus. Either way, Max gets upgrade options – nothing new to RPG but we also get to upgrade the Opus. Now this is fun. Everything you need to turn the Opus into a monstrous demon car that actually intimidates factions. A lot of the upgrades are related to the main missions so you feel like you’re preparing for the Gastown showdown, not gadding about gaining xp. It helps that you become invested in the Opus, feeling that while once it was little more than a frame on wheels, now it’s something special.

Eventually, by way of a launchable Thunderpoon (which is even more fun than it sounds) Max and Chum make it inland and Max’s world changes. A bit. It’s still a sand-soaked, rotten world but there’s roads, or at least broken asphalt snaking through ruins, broken bridges, dry river beds, gas stations and so on, but the further inland you go, the more the desert has encroached until it’s all you see. Mostly we see more Scarecrows, Snipers, Encampments and Top Dogs. And bloody land mines. It’s a bit of a stumble on the game’s part; after all that work in the Ocean, the build up to reaching ‘land’, it’s the same challenges on the other side give or take. Still, off to Gastown, right? Nope, there’s another stronghold, a junkyard that surrounds Gastown that we need passage through.

By now, I’m the Road Warrior, ready for anything but the junkyard is something else. After flinging the Opus around all that open space, I’m trapped in close-quarter alleyways, car-catching trash and dead-ends and constantly reduce the Opus to a burning wreck. Well, I wanted a change. Chum, fix up the Opus. We’re going to Gastown.

Naturally there’s a few more hoops between Max and the V8, and one is the best mission in the game; recover something from a buried Airport. The Opus crawls through the tomb-like airport interior as sand slips and we catch shadows. Chum is not happy and neither am I. It’s unnerving, then scary, then scary-fast as the Opus drives for its life, terrorised all the way back to Gastown. It’s a great mission just as our madness is starting to slip after one too many scarecrows. That it’s for a completely trivial reason adds to the mayhem of Max’s mad world too.

It’s an incredible moment when the V8 is revealed – Max is utterly captivated by it and so are we, seeing what the V8 means to him; he’s staring so hard he barely registers the other prize, a concubine in the shapely shape of Hope, a woman we helped (a bit) a while back. She’s owned by the maniac Stank Gum – who we have to beat to win the engine. Hope also had a daughter, Glory, now nowhere to be seen which is troubling. Max doesn’t seem to notice though because V8. That’s my V8.

After everything, it’s no spoiler to say the V8 is a bit disappointing. I’m sure it’s just my uneducated ears, but once Chum has it installed, it’s nowhere near as dirty, guttural; I miss the bang when Max turns the V6’s key. It hums rather than spits. It’s also a let-down that the V8 has a load of upgrades. We just went through all that for something that can be better? It should have been Get The V8, Angels sing, Opus soars, Chum cheers, end credits. But it’s not over yet. After a Thunderdome fight that left me exhausted, we’re thrown into a monumental brawl so epic and unfair that even Borderlands would have said ‘calm down mate’, what could possibly be next? Another exceptional mission to begrudgingly help Hope find her Glory of course, and it feels right that Max would eventually agree to do one thing for someone other than himself – that’s a constant in every Mad Max movie since Road Warrior; someone gets under his madness and briefly reaches the man beneath.

So we’re good to go, yeah? Not quite. It’s a desperately sad moment when Max takes off rather than stays with Hope and Glory. Glory gets in the car only to be lifted out like Feral Kid. Max barely glances in his mirror before taking off. But then, absolutely everything spirals faster than a V8; An insane sequence of events unfold, sending Max so far into the Madness that it’s hard to watch let alone play – and it couldn’t have ended any other way. We’ll ignore a completely ridiculous final twist/fight tacked on to spoil it. It’s that good a game that even a logic-breaking boss fight can be forgiven. Max drives, always away from his past; except now he has even more past to drive away from. Including me. It’s been a ride being Max. And surprisingly, it’s been emotional being Max.

With the Opus purring like a hybrid, I reflect on how well Mad Max the films were woven into the game. And it’s not just fan-service. There’s ‘two men enter, one man leaves’, Max eats Dinki-Di dogfood, the Lost Tribe is referenced, Max is called Raggedy Man and so much more; it might be a prequel to Fury Road (might be) with the Warboys, the huge storms and general look and feel, but the entire series’ DNA is woven in without turning the game into some sycophant greatest-hits tour. This Max can stand proudly alongside it’s cinematic bros – and manages the impossible; a brilliant tie-in. I would love to be Max again and it’s a shame WB didn’t throw enough support behind this game to warrant a sequel; well damn them. Avalanche gave us back our hero.

2015 | Developer Avalanche Studios | Publisher WB Interactive Entertainment

Platforms; Win, XO, PS4

Fallout 4 – Pt2

A SECOND WIND REVIEW

Part two of FBT’s special edition Wasteland wander through Fallout 3. I mean 4.

*Spoilers. Not that it matters, it’s fricking obvious*

So, having been thawed out of a Vault, my suburban housewife character has not even remotely bothered to look for her son, the main plot of Fallout 4. Instead the domestic goddess blazed through the wasteland like a grizzled survivalist. Likely because she’d played Fallout 3.

While most of Fallout 4 is Fallout 3 Redux, one new addition is the ability to create a settlement; amazingly this isn’t a Bethesda money-grubbing DLC element like Skyrim’s Hearthfire, it’s part of the main game and a key element, the idea of carving out a place to call your own, of rebuilding the home you glimpsed pre-war, or building somewhere new, away from the memories of our recently lost other-half – it’s great; well, a great idea but impossibly frustrating and boring. Speaking of our beloved, the tragic parent of our child, the man I shared domesticity with only moments ago, I should look for someone new to share it with. Well, that was a long mourning period, sixty years as an ice-cube; a girl’s got needs. Companions are back and largely the same as FO3 in that they can carry stuff for you and get killed easily. I don’t need to find my kid when I’m spending so much time saving, finding, reviving and shouting at my companion. There’s a relationship angle added that’s somewhere between Mass Effect’s romance process and CJ’s girl in every city. Each companion has a selection of actions they find Hot or Not. Take Piper the spunky journalist; she’ll have the hots for you quick-sharp as she gets turned on every time you pull out a bobby pin.

It seems like a good idea and a way for you to find your true love – a companion who matches your character’s personality. In reality, it’s a real pain because many actions are necessary within the game – for example Cait hates it if you’re generous and likes you being selfish (She loves you walking around naked too, that girl’s got issues) so it becomes a question of do you alter your style to please them because you like them, or will your actions tear the two of you apart? I might be giving Bethesda too much credit for this concept, I’m not convinced that’s their intention but it’s an interesting dynamic. And oddly I had to sleep with a woman at one point to get info out of her, and my fully-confirmed partner was with me. I’m not sure what happened that night but we’re still together, yet she gets well pissy if I flirt off-script with someone. Plus, the whole idea is undermined by the perk system; each companion provides a bump in some form or other, so you just keep around whoever has a perk most useful at the time and put up with their grumbles when you do something they don’t like. The majority of the companions are quite interesting with different takes on the wasteland, and the perfect partner angle (if that’s what Bethesda were actually going for) is interesting – but the perk system removes who they are and turns them into a power-up.

Of course, the wasteland isn’t completely empty. Aside from the faction missions and the main storyline, there’s tons of mini-missions, events and radiant quests to keep you schlepping back and forth. Most are standard clear this out, find that, uncover what that is, kill that, rescue this. It can’t really go any other way, but after games like Mass Effect 3, which for all it’s faults made sure every mini-mission counted, you kinda want to see more impact. It would tie in nicely with the opening scenes of blissful suburbia if every side mission or encounter added to your settlement, either by more refugees helping or providing services; it would have been nice to return on a whim and see how it’s flourishing, and encourage you to go out and adventure more so by the end, you’ve provided and created a community, a nod to the past. But, missions are all standard and you do it for the xp. Eventually I get badass enough that a Deathclaw doesn’t terrify me, and give up questing, bored. Plus the settlement looks like a dump and everyone in it moans. Washed out of the wasteland, I might as well get this done. Why am I here again? Oh yeah, the kid.

So I follow fairly typical plotlines that lead me eventually to the dreaded Institute. Throughout, I heard stories of those guys, that they were creating androids to replace people in preparation for invading and forcing everyone out of the area. ‘Cos it’s just prime real-estate n’all. I kept thinking, why would they waste such resource and effort? I don’t know. And that’s not my infamous lack of patience, that’s the game’s muddled and unfocused plotting. The Institute itself is spotless and futuristic, why’d they want to move above-ground at all? The institute, for all their brilliance – not to mention the fact that they invented a transporter – doesn’t seem to have a clear mission statement and they have more than a passing similarity to FO4’s Steel Brotherhood; there’s a slightly distasteful fascism to both factions yet they hate each other. Still, turns out the wasteland tales are true. They are building ‘synths’ which are roaming about insinuating themselves into the colonies and townships of the wasteland. Still don’t really know why. But anyway, turns out my bundle of joy was taken for his DNA to help build human-androids for … reasons. And here he is!

My boy is all growed up and become the Father of the Institute (‘Father’ – Wow. Mom meet Son called Father. That’s deep, right? I shall call him Fatson) I feel nothing when we meet; this should be a huge moment finally finding him only to discover my boy is old, indifferent to me and has a very different world view to the one I’ve formed while out in the wilderness, but it doesn’t gel because I’ve not shared any of my pain or feelings during my trip. The game doesn’t seem to know what to do with us once we’re together. After some wooden dialogue that doesn’t explore anything, the game shuffles me off on quests with a neat little ‘We’ll talk later’. And we never do, not really, not in a way that’s rewarding given this has been Jack’s focus. All conversations are carefully manipulated to avoid any plot-spoiling or emotion; he’s in his sixties and not had a parent so his feelings towards me should be curious at best whereas I should be staggered but their scenes together are little more than standard dialogue found elsewhere in the game. My chat with the Mr Handy was more emotive than this. When a machine is happier to see me than my own son you’ve got problems.

Reuniting with Fatson is a complete let down but not an unexpected one; I don’t feel cheated because it could only ever have gone this way; I never thought the game would have the guts to kill the kid; he could have died, that would be interesting – a mid-game emotional wallop that leaves me wondering my place in this world without the focus; we could have found our descendants, imagine grandma Jack and the kids rebuilding a settlement or me eventually sacrificing myself, too far removed from this world to settle but providing something to ensure Jack Junior’s kids had a chance – Nope, standard plotting only please. Hell, it didn’t even go wide of the mark and say he’s gone but everyone in the institute is a clone of him intended to repopulate the earth and I was a clonemother. What would I do then, kill potentially hundreds of cloned grandkids I could spoil at Christmas? It just doesn’t do anything brave with what it has and I think that inevitability played a part in my reluctance to go looking for him. I didn’t want to be disappointed by a FO game. But it did it anyway, then compounded it; just before meeting Fatson, FO4 grins like it pulled a Keyser Soze-sized rug by revealing my son is the antagonist. Of course he is. You’re expecting this to create an emotional struggle, a difficult choice? Nope. Worse, that reveal is the second rug-pull in a row. In a scene ripped from a Spanish telenovela, I’d been led to believe my kid was a child still and sure enough, in the Institute, I find the child! *Cries in Spanish* But as we talk something weird happens; he … shuts down. It was a robot! *Cries in frustration* Cue Fatson briefly pretending not to be the boy before we ‘realise’. Piss off. I wasn’t shocked I was disappointed and filled with suspicion this wouldn’t be the last I’d see of the robokid. Don’t you do it FO4 …

Anyway, having been sent packing by Fatson, I wander the institute. Every scientist I meet is a bit of a prick and they’re misinformed about the surface – if only the Institute had someone available with an intimate knowledge of life in the wasteland. But they don’t just dismiss me, they don’t even have the option to ask (It’s like Bethesda realised ‘oh crap, if she tells them it’s not that bad out there, our main storyline is shot / Just don’t have the dialogue option? / Great save! Lunch?’). Their attitude towards Jack also rankles me. I’m a badass wilderness survivor, they should at least be a little nervous having someone this dangerous leaving dirt everywhere. I have a nuclear weapon strapped to my back and they’re rude? Fine that they have an ingrained dislike of surface-dwellers but I can’t change their mind and I’m really not convinced those are the guys to side with. But I go off doing the side missions to see where this takes me. And I’m surprised; it takes me right into Fatson’s chair!

More ridiculous than the whole Fatson reveal episode, within 3 or 4 missions I’m offered the big chair; that’s just unbelievable. Plus, I’ve not learnt anything new, been swayed towards their world-view or even offered a view. An entire institution of scientists capable of building robots – including robot gorillas I noticed, why? – and a transporter beam and various other brilliant technologies and the person best suited to taking over Apple is the mud-covered luddite who’s been here a day? Okay so two scientists rebel against the notion, and do so by brilliantly locking themselves in the room with the gorillas. But everyone else just comes around to the idea, especially after that whole gorilla incident. Okay so if I’m in charge now I get to change their views toward the surface – Oh, no I can’t. More ‘don’t break the storyline’ control. I can’t influence the Institute at all. FO4 has jumped the gorilla. Even if I accepted that, and I can’t, this whole event should have come early on, to give me time to warm to their ideas and ideals, but now I’ve done most of the other factions’ missions and get where they’re coming from, I don’t care about the Institute.

It also turns out my little man is the one who let me out of the vault. Why? I dunno really, he mumbles some plot-papering about knowing I’d find my way to him. How, why, what? You’ve expressed nothing but contempt for the wasteland and had the power to let me out decades ago, but you think the best idea is let your Mother wander with no direction or inkling about your status and just figured I’d rock up? And then when I do, I’d automatically side with you and – oh forget it I’m disowning you, I’ve had enough, I’m gonna go hang out with those fifties throwbacks with the shark decals on their power armour.

Like happens in the real world, this family reunion has been a disaster. Fatson and the Institute should have been introduced from the outset, especially after the revelation he let me out – It would have been a wicked game-changer to find a grown man at the house, explaining he released me and he’s about to unleash synth Armageddon on the commonwealth and wanted to rescue me first, revealing his identity. But something prevents us from returning so instead we go exploring for a way back to the Institute and along the way we both learn something; based on my actions, he sees hope or despair in the wastes, compassion or brutality – my actions are his reactions; it informs his plan once back at the Institute. Maybe he becomes compassionate and I become hardened and it’s up to him to change me. Anything but this. So much potential squandered, the generic nothingness of it makes me so angry I launch a mini-nuke and murder-suicide the two of us. This game drove me to infanticide. Or patricide I’m not sure. Had the two of us wandered together I would really have the fate of the wasteland in my hands, side missions would benefit the main quest by swaying his opinion and I’d be able to shape it as I see fit. But no, I’m caught between the usual factions and go with whichever ones I personally prefer/finished the missions for. Just like FO3, just like NV, just like most of Bethesda’s games nowadays; they’re not just reskinning the world, they’re copy/pasting the plots and missions.

This time around factions include the Steel Brotherhood, who somehow – despite the presumed world-wide shortage of everything – manage to maintain a huge airship dreadnaught (admittedly that thing arriving in the sky was a high point as was blowing it up later), or the Railway who are dedicated to freeing sentient synths (The Railway? Seriously? Let’s leave alone the grade-school level commentary on slavery). Oh and those Minutemen. I forgot about them. Literally forgot them; someone in the Steel Bros mentioned the Minutemen and I was like ‘oh yeah!’ And then there’s the Institute with their plan to do make everyone upgrade their iPhone or something. They all hate each other. I can’t unite them. Why not?! We don’t even explore the hatred which in some cases, particularly the Steel Bros vs Minutemen, doesn’t make sense.

On top of it all, Jack is the worst kind of hero – a passive one. She’s happiest wiring plugs. I play her as an absolute badass and the game makes the character a complete meh.

Another option could have been to build your own faction. FO4 would have had the capability to do that. Your settlements could have become a force in the wasteland, a new power rising with your actions dictating how it’s perceived, become the major power battling the others; Nation of Jack. That would make me more inclined to build more than a rickety shed for my settlers. Anything! Damnit!

So I go through the motions and the missions, none of which stand out and eventually I destroy the institute. It’s telling that I forget to go see my son after all that. Had I followed his storyline, more would be revealed about the Institute and it’s intent and that’s annoying; to be cheated out of a resolution because I don’t follow his ideals despite being made the Father is a further insult and eventually I forgot him as if he was a Minuteman. I guess I assumed he’d appear at the last second begging me not to do whatever I’d done, but instead, little robo-son rocks up. Now believing Jack is its Mother, robo-kid asks to be taken with. I agree, although I’d rather take a Gorilla. It would be cool if robo-kid actually turned out to be a homicidal mini-me terminator but no, it’s just that kid from A.I and a hackneyed way to give Jack her son after everything.

Once we’d escaped the explosion of the institute – which took out most of the buildings folks were living in – I wonder was there really no way to take it over and move in? That’s the only way to resolve this? In the middle of an irradiated wasteland, atomically blowing up the only safe haven for miles? And what about the poor robo-gorillas?! The Institute has exploded (helpful), the Commonwealth’s scientists are dead (helpful) and all their technology is gone (helpful), and my replacement son was nowhere to be found (helpful). I think he might have fallen off the roof we watched the explosion from. Finally, a Bethesda bug I can get behind. I’m certainly not going to look for him, one missing kid was enough and I was already aggravated the game would try to tie everything up so simply by giving me an iBoy. A happy ending? That’s not what the wasteland is, and it was never what Fallout was about. The best you could hope for was a better wasteland.

For some, the familiarity of FO4’s retread is more than enough. If you loved FO3, FO4 is just more of it and the settlement element allows you to bring some civility to the wasteland. It is beautifully detailed, involving and does what it says on the tin. For me though, FO4 was tame, safe and bland – I wanted to make more of a mark than a blast radius. As I prepare to fast-travel to the exit menu, I take a look at the landscape one last time. It’s an incredibly compelling world Bethesda created and it’s a testament to their dedication that we eventually call the wasteland home and want to better it. From up here that is. Down there in the ruins, we’ve seen it all before.

War. War never changes. Neither does Fallout it seems.

2015 | Developer Bethesda Game Studios | Publisher Bethesda Softworks

platforms; Win | PS4 | X0

Carmageddon

A Blast from the Past review

FBT’s review of Carmageddon, the best racer of the 90s so he says – but he said that about Monster Truck Madness and Road Rage too so who knows.

The Past

I’d always disliked racer games. But Carma was different; originally envisioned by devs Stainless as a demolition derby, it shifted to sandbox when they pursued the Mad Max licence. People-mushing was added after they tried to licence Deathrace instead. Finally, they came up with their own world, ripped from 70s/80s dystopia movies; Rollerball meets Nascar, cars race through slums winning by crossing the finish or stopping anyone else from doing so; running over the ‘peds’ gained you more time to race. It was great. But what made it even greater was the free-roam element. My mates and I would chalk up a healthy amount of ped-death time then go looking for trouble. We would analyse the layout, work out if we could reach building tops, find hidden areas … We’d spend hours on a single level. Of course, you could attempt to win without running anyone over and that had its own challenges. The biggest of which was not giving in and handbrake-turning into a crowd of people.

The Daily Mail trembled with horror on it’s release and demanded Carma be banned, going so far as to claim the character Die Anna was a ‘sick’ reference to the people’s princess. That’s … okay I wouldn’t put it past Carma, except Princess Di died after its release, but don’t let that stop a headline. Building on the controversy, publishers SCi, decided to submit it to the BBFC … which hugely backfired. The BBFC weren’t exactly open-minded in the nineties and they banned it, supposedly because they enjoyed it so much that suggested people would emulate – what? Stainless released it with zombies instead, who spewed green blood. But what we knew, and the morally-panicked didn’t, was that new internet. From there, Stainless’ own mod quickly made its way to floppies and magazine disks, providing a way to turn the zombies human again. We were back in business. When not one child mowed anyone down in their Dad’s car, the protesters moved on to being dismayed at GTA instead.

In today’s moral-choice driven and heartfelt emotional gaming, there’s nothing out there that celebrates your pure homicidal side. Time to Die Anna again.

Still a Blast?

As I race along ‘Maim Street’, the first of thirty-odd races, memories come back and I take off, aiming for the stadium where I mow down NFL teams, then shoot down the road knocking peds for six, blood and body parts spinning. I mistime a corner and obliterate my car, then get rear-ended which causes me to shunt a mailbox that skids off and takes out a passing OAP and earns me a ‘good shot, sir’ bonus. Holy crap this is good. And not in that ‘I want to try this in the real-world’ way. Chasing after the peds is fun, they squeal and take off, yell and swear at you, while hitting the cows in the countryside levels, listening to their Moo turn into a Goo is always a giggle. Although there’s only four or five locations – inner city, coastal, a mine, countryside and industrial areas, each race opens up different or expanded areas, so the races always feel bigger rather than just longer or repetitive. Plus, it gives you another chance to get somewhere you couldn’t earlier. Completing a course gives you points, alongside the points you gain in-game to buy upgrades and unlock your position, which in turn unlocks the races. And more dangerous opponents…

As I crash around, I realise just how much genuine fun I’m having, how exhilarating, exciting and intense it all is. Yes, it’s blocky and dated but that soon disappears because you’re so into it. I miss this, most modern games don’t have this reckless abandon and most of it is my own doing rather than the game manipulating me into a scripted experience. As soon as I finish one level, I’m revving to get onto the next. Carma is just so exciting – that’s not the controversy talking; it’s a really good game. The physics and engine are amazing and the levels are laid out in a way that maximises freedom so you can really take control of the way you play; you quickly learn how much you can push it, anticipate its reactions and gauge when to turn, slide or break. I’d forgotten about Die Anna’s face in the corner, reacting to the mayhem as we went, the on-screen congrats as we made good kills, the noises the peds make, the way the levels are filled with things to trip you up or give you the chance to let loose. As the game progresses you get the opportunity to steal opponent’s cars once you’ve wasted them, and they each have their own feel and ability. There’s a caddy with a cattle-catcher, driven by ‘Otis P Jivefunk’ that makes short work of any head-on attacks but is like driving a bouncy castle, Vlad with his hotrod car which will impale yours and there’s OK Stimpson (renamed Juicy Jones in rereleases) who drives what looks a lot like a white-topped Ford Bronco … The opponents and their cars are all very different although their tactics are largely the same – ram you.

There’s not much in the way of in-car fighting and early on it’s a war of attrition as you just batter each other, but later you’re cutting through them like bloody butter; except for the big boys (and girls) like The Plow and Heinz Faust’s tank-car. They’re nightmares, but not as bad as the cops.

Cops do serious damage and constantly ram you, siren screaming, holding you in place while the timer ticks down. The only downer is the cops only go after me. It’s not until at least mid-way through and several armour, power and offensive upgrades that I can even think about taking them on. It’s a hugely gratifying moment when the car is tricked out and you grab the solid granite powerup then spy a copper in the distance. Revenge. Of course, there’s that damn super-cop car sitting on a roof in later levels. When that thing lands, it’s game over. Except it’s not. The great thing about Carma was you can’t die – your car can get disabled, but you just repair and live to maim again, giving you the freedom of just putting your foot down and seeing what happens. They removed this invincibility from the sequels and they suffered because of it; once you get nervous about accelerating in Carma, it’s not Carma anymore. I remember discovering this in Carma 2 and being so disappointed I sacked it off.

The only way to lose in Carma was to run out of time. So long as the timer is ticking, you’re okay. You gain time in three ways – passing checkpoints, battering opponents or running over peds. You can even win by killing all the peds, but even with a power-up that reveals their location it’s incredibly difficult to do. Other powerups include instant handbrake, good for anyone chasing you, damage magnifiers, and the insanely annoying Bouncy Bouncy. The big one is Pinball, which as the name suggests sends you – and everything else you touch – careening around the map. They’re huge maps too, Carma doesn’t scrimp on the experiences; so many areas to explore, so many opportunities to cause mayhem. I’m attempting to drive up the sides of buildings, ramming things to see what happens, taking huge chances and accelerating so hard Die Anna starts screaming. Skimming past opponents, setting up games of chicken (they never falter), grabbing powerups then rushing to use them before they run out, clobbering cop cars then taking off … Carma is basically like school playtime, when you realise the teacher’s about to herd you all in so you suddenly go mental trying to have all the fun at once before you’re forced back into class.

It’s amazing that Carma didn’t have more influence on race gaming. Series’ like Flatout, Midtown Madness and Road Rage shared the anarchic DNA of Carma but without the murder or black humour – Monster Truck Madness did have open world opportunities but you still had to hit checkpoints rather than the crowds to win. But I realise now Carma isn’t really about running people over, it was the racing without rules, and along with the swearing, cheeky level names, the ‘Pratcam’ and the on-screen congrats for outlandish kills, it all adds up to a game that’s dedicated to you finding your own fun. So few games let you have your own fun anymore, least of all the racing genre.

Even a decade after release the protesters never let it go; That bastion of family values Keith Vaz was still using Carmageddon in 2005 to prove a point about video game violence, stating in a commons debate that Carma’s ‘sounds of cracking bones adds to the realistic effect’ – did he ever play it? He also noted “Duke Nukem hones his skills by using pornographic posters of women for target practice and earns bonus points for shooting naked and bound prostitutes and strippers” – Really? There’s been so many re-releases of Duke that I must have missed the ‘moral outrage edition’. He also talked about Postal and even mentioned the ‘Postal Dude’ – A politician using the word Dude in the Houses of Parliament? Games rock. Yet Vaz, The Daily Mail and pressure groups like Mediawatch seem to miss their own point when they panic hysterically about video games; twenty years on and still no one’s ran anyone over because Carma told them too. Carma was rebooted in 2015 and the Daily Mail was there for it, reporting that “ultra-controversial video-game Carmageddon might be unleashed on another generation of teenagers” as if the terror alert should be raised to severe after the original nearly brought society to its knees via rampaging teenagers with learner plates, before screaming about the original being banned (But not ‘unbanned’). Let it go.

Like Doom, the thing about Carma wasn’t the violence, it was the perfect experience – it wasn’t real, anyone except Daily Mail readers could tell the difference, but I could anticipate the car’s movements, how hard to push it, where it would end up – when I missed a ped I could yell the game was cheating but really, I’m just not that good a driver. There’s nothing ‘real’ about it, but it was a brilliant game and one that you could tell the devs had fun making and that shines through. It wants you to have a good time. It’s blocky and the sprites animate through two or three stills and you can’t really see what’s going on. But once we’re off, the gloves are off too and I’m barrelling down the road, bashing my fellow drivers and pulling handbrake turns into peds like I’m twenty years younger. Pixels don’t matter when a game’s this good. Carma is a brilliant game on every level – to play and to offend. The sequels weren’t as good and that includes the 2015 reboot which veered into arcade silliness and lost the original’s black humour in favour of smut, but the original still plays great and it’s even available on iOS/Android. There’s no excuse. Play it, just to annoy the Daily Mail.

Die Anna, the gamer’s princess.

Developer Stainless Games | Publisher Sci / Interplay Productions

Platforms; Win | iOS/Android

Postal 2

A Blast from the Past review

FBT remembers Postal 2 as an ironic giggle n’ guns-fest through life’s little annoyances.

He was looking forward to this one.

The Past

The original Postal, taking the phrase for a mid-eighties spate of postal workers gunning down co-workers, featured an insane lead character killing his way through his home town. It generated so much controversy the United States Postal Service tried to sue developers Running with Scissors and it was proclaimed public enemy number one; well, one of three enemies in Liebermann’s ‘worst things in America’ (the others were Marylin Mason and Calvin Klein ads). It’s no surprise then that the sequel, even before hitting the shelves was considered the most dangerous game ever released; this time you’d be murdering in a free-form, open world 3D environment and in first person; up close and personal, just like in real-life the campaigners panicked. It was the end times.

While Rockstar’s Manhunt largely owned 2003 as the game everyone loved to hate, Postal 2 still cooked up some outrage; it was blamed for some unrelated violence, banned from most US supermarkets and even appeared in the Black-Eyed-Peas’ Where is the Love video, showing kids playing it while the band watched sadly (Rather than responsibly taking it off the kids). Fair enough, the BEP’s music makes me go Postal. Briefly known as the most violent and notorious game ever released, Postal 2’s reputation has faded over time, replaced with better, more efficient murder-simulators but for a while it was the Moral Campaigners poster-child. After a poster of Marylin Manson in some Calvin’s, presumably.

Of course, the efforts to ban Postal 2 did the opposite; I heard about PII through reputation not reviews and bought for that reason. Friends and beers gathered around to snigger and giggle as we rampaged and were utterly uninspired to do the same in the real world. I remember PII as a game that tricked you into revealing your psychopathic urges; it wasn’t evil, you were – you could complete it without harming anyone, something the morally outraged ignored (Or more likely didn’t know, since it’s doubtful they played what outraged them so much) – but you weren’t going to play Postal peacefully. It really got the idea that hell is other people and it explored exactly what you’d do if life’s everyday annoyances came with a shotgun. With the world the way it is and me a lot less patient than I was in 2003, I can’t think of a better time to go Postal 2 again.

Still a Blast?

I’d forgotten how PII’s levels are broken out into days, each getting progressively worse. I, The Postal Dude, wake on Monday to the sound of a wife nagging me to fulfil her to-do list; get paid, cash paycheck, get milk. Easy.

I launch myself in Monday ready to let humanity do its worst. Paradise, the town we’re in, looks 15yrs old and while it’s basic even for 2003, it works and it doesn’t take long to get the lay of the land. The inhabitants of Paradise though, are insane and asking for it. They yell, shout, walk into you, flip the bird, vomit, drink, dance, stop dead, turn suddenly, dawdle; standard everyday people. At one point my progress is hindered by a marching band. But I don’t feel like going Postal.

As I head through town, I grab various other weapons and a cat, which takes me back. The Cat silencer, which triggered hysterics back in the day, consisted of sticking its butt on the machine gun or pump-action and it muffled the gunfire. I start to recall PII had many an immature moment but I always defended those as subversive or cynical moments; Smoking crack gives Dude a huge health bump but he also gets addicted and loses more health if you don’t keep using them. That’s obvious, but there’s a nice touch in the way Dude will keep changing the selected inventory item back to a crackpipe. Miss the change and you find yourself accidently smoking it even when your health is totally maxed. After a pleasant enough walk, I reach work; the Running with Scissors office. Meta. Once I’ve found RwS’ boss man the office is stormed by anti-game protestors. Postal 2 had pre-scripted shooting sequences where you’d trigger some violent act by a 3rd party and have to fight your way out and it’s a bit of a shame to have forced enemies, I was enjoying getting from A to B and testing my patience. The groups you encounter will turn hostile whenever they spot you after that scene too, increasing the postal oppotunities.

Besides the protestors, we also draw the ire of book burners, Rednecks and Survivalists amongst others plus there’s the corrupt cops and later FBI/Swat guys and the National Guard, all with itchy trigger fingers. Random fights can break out at any time and ‘Dude’ can catch a bullet or the blame. There’s also the trifling matter of Al-Qaeda who are given to suicide bombings and almighty shoot-outs. The game’s tagline was ‘ever had one of those days’ but I’ve never had a day where Vegetarians shoot me for killing cows. I’ve had days where I seem to spend forever queuing, which seems to be the main source of annoyance in the game but I queue for my milk, pay and walk out then go ‘Oh?’. It never occurred to me to pull the trigger; my patience never wore thin and I wonder if I’ll ever go Postal unprovoked.

This looks tough

About the only kind thing you can say about PII’s FPS aspect is it’s of its time. During the RwS fight the protesters all got stuck in the office door allowing me (and the boss) to mow down most of them. Shooting is very hit/miss and clunky. There’s a huge array of weapons to choose from, melee through to rocket launchers including gross out stuff like an Anthrax-infused Cow’s head. One of PII’s melee weapons is Dude’s penis. He can whip it out and piss on people. Hit them in the face and they’ll stop to throw up. If he leaves it unzipped you can flash people, which sometimes triggers a gunfight; the game often tries to prod a hidden juvenile streak, but after a while you want a hidden satire streak to begin. It can be argued using piss as a melee weapon isn’t supposed to be taken seriously (and if I do, the jokes on me) or that it’s a comment on other game’s weapon choices, but I think I’m reaching; RwS just think pissing is funny.

I reach Wednesday’s chores without really feeling aggrieved enough to brutalise anyone and I’m starting to think PII doesn’t have the balls to go through with its own outrage. It’s just gross-out not sly sarcasm, like they watched South Park and completely missed the subtlety, and that’s not me misreading PII the way some thought Fight Club was about violence – I want the tension, the frustration of everyday life to wear me down and snap; that’s a dangerous game, one that explores or exposes what we’d do if pissed off and armed. A game that really does satirise the moral panic and the righteous right, explore supposed game addiction and the contested causal link between games and anti-social behaviour. P1 was blamed for all that and more, heralded as downright evil and inspiring people to murder; PII should have answered those accusations; and I thought it did. I had in mind an original, cunning black-comedy beneath some media-baiting, a game was both making a comment and not to be taken seriously but … it’s actually just infantile. At first I wondered if modern games had ruined PII for me; thanks to the huge worlds of Skyrim, Mass Effect and GTA it’s no big deal to walk for an hour, take on thankless tasks, wait an age for an NCP to stop talking; queue for five minutes? Completed it mate. But it’s not that. PII just isn’t antagonistic in the way it thinks it is. There’s nods to politics, mass media and moral outrage, but it’s unexplored and buried under offensive and misjudged moments. I can take insults and over-the-line commentary if it has some guts to it, but this is just crass. It’s not social satire to have an arcade game called Fag Hunter, unless I get to blast those playing it – but no one’s playing it but Dude. It’s like PII took lessons from the Howard Stern school of Offend Everyone Equally but failed the exam.

satire.

Without any demonstrable wit or comment there’s a lot to be offended by and with no subtext, no commentary it comes off as nasty; The Al-Qaeda terrorists are not a satire on Bush’s reactionary and directionless War On Terror, they’re caricatures and generalisations; The local convenience store is run by an Apu (Hindu) rip-off yet it’s is revealed he runs an Al-Qaeda base. We visit Uncle Dave’s compound and there’s an FBI/ATF-style cordon around it, a nod to the Branch Davidians siege but what’s it saying? A parody of the government’s handling of it? No, and that massacre is not something to make funnies about without also saying something serious. Homophobia is present in a DLC level that brings Fag Hunter to life. Dude’s wife is known as ‘The Bitch’ and the women are either overweight or seemingly scanned from the pages of RwS’s porn collection. When compared to its peers PII just comes across as late to the party, telling dad jokes. To think Manhunt was the same year; for all its horrors, it truly had something to say about violence as entertainment. PII has a level where Dude catches Gonorrhoea.

By the time I’d reached Friday (Or Sunday if you picked up the Apocalypse Weekend add-on) I’d been murdering and mayhem’ing my way through Paradise for a few days, mostly because everyone by this point is armed and pissed off making it impossible and pointless to even try to do the chores peacefully. Basically, everyone but me has gone Postal. I’ve battled a scrotum-shaped Kids TV Character, got Gary Coleman’s autograph, been forced to become a Redneck’s gimp and pissed on Dad’s grave. Somehow none of it was fun. Even if you ignore the wasted opportunity, the unforgivable tone, the schoolboy humour and the bargain-basement shooter mechanics, Postal 2 even fails at going Postal; There’s a million mini frustrations in everyone’s day, how is it that the only frustration in the game is queuing?! PII just doesn’t have anything to say and with nothing to add to the debate; it’s aged into something insulting not timely; it would have been incredible to revisit PII and find it’s themes more relevant today than 15yrs ago but now I can’t see anything worth defending let alone playing; Worst of all, it failed to make me go Postal.

boss-level queuing

RwS does maintain a strong and dedicated band of fans, and they remain active on their website (which no longer features a Postal Babe of the Day, they’re growing up) – the games continuously get updated and upgraded. 2015 saw another PII add-on and 2017 had a Postal Redux release; which generated zero outrage. RwS just seem to be recycling the same piss for the same fans. But with so much to be really outraged at those days, a Postal 4 done right could be a return to form; Trump, Corruption, Big Business, a nation divided; but it’ll inevitably make fart jokes, feature ISIS and have a mission where you queue up to use a gender-neutral bathroom. And, sadly, it’ll barely cause a ripple. It’s really saying something about the state of the world if a game all about raging against society doesn’t provoke a reaction – RwS should make a game about that moral decline.

As I try to find something nice to say about PII, a game I loved on release, one that I defended and celebrated until now, I find myself arguing I’ve fallen for a meta-satire. The original Postal put you in the bloody shoes of a delusional maniac who kills his way towards an elementary school. A satire on the media hysteria around spree-shooting, hidden as a celebration of it? Postal was RwS’s first game; it’s as if a satirist chose the very medium blamed for spree-shooters to make their point. In Postal 2, every possible contentious subject is literally pissed on; It’s a mockery of hysterical reactions and exposes people’s own prejudices; if you weren’t offended, you were the problem. Postal III was unfinished and unplayable; But, RwS didn’t develop it, they outsourced it – a comment on labels forcing devs to release unfinished games? Its plot encouraged you to follow the peaceful route to get the ‘good’ ending; considering Postal’s entire point, surely a parody on choice-based games like Bioshock and Mass Effect. RwS followed PIII with an apology DLC where PIII was just a dream and Dude teams up with his old enemies – Al Qaeda included – A commentary on game franchises being inconsistent and forgetting their roots. And they sold the movie rights to Uwe Boll. That’s a subversive comment on publishers selling out their games. I get it now, Postal is a digital art installation, a massive social comment on gaming and we fell for it at every turn; both fans and haters are the punchline. Wait, I think I’ve finally gone Postal.

2003 | Developer Running With Scissors I Publisher Whiptail Interactive / RWS

Platforms; Win

Morrowind | Oblivion | Skyrim – Pt2

A SECOND WIND special REVIEW

Morrowind, Oblivion & Skyrim – Pt2

Part Two of FBT’s special rambling ramble through the world of The Elder Scrolls. After winning the minds of Morrowind and the heart of Martin in Oblivion, he winds up in Skyrim without a visa. *spoilers*

I find myself on a horse-drawn cart. A hayride, how exciting after the prison ship of Morrowind and prison cell of Oblivion. Opposite me is a local. With a gag over his mouth. My hands are bound. A prison cart?! As we idle our way through a striking forest, another prisoner fills me in on what’s happening. Gag-guy is a ‘Jarl’, a local ruler called Ulfric who murdered the High-king of Skyrim for supporting Imperial rule rather than leading Skyrim’s succeeding from their control. Now we’re facing civil war between the Skyrim folk and the Imperial forces from Cyrodiil. Well me-laddo given me and my bro Martin just saved the empire I think I’ll have something to say about that, even if you can’t. As we reach a small, quaint town it turns out I won’t have time to say anything as I’m off to the headsman. Then we hear a strange roar. It’s all strange to me, but everyone else looks up and wonders what the hell was that. As the axe swings we hear another. By the nine it’s a dragon! Except, someone proclaims ‘By the eight it’s a dragon!’ Ohhh what happened to ‘By the Nine’, a phrase we heard throughou – Oh yeah, dragon. Dragon!

A huge, exciting dragon makes short work of the village and most of the folks in it. It’s a visceral moment, an absolute killer opening; the dragon is HUGE and I’m running about like a maniac until I realise I’m in an interactive cut-scene. There’s a hundred foot long dragon smacking holy hell out of everything and I’m safe from it even when I’m a foot away. I reach a guard and the prisoner who filled us in earlier; both ask me to follow them. I chose the hayride guy since the imperials were happy to kill me. Safe from the safe dragon, we tutorial our way through a ruined building looking for an escape. Fighting, spells, lock-picking (this doesn’t need a tutorial if you’ve played Fallout 3 or 4), and so on. Free, Hayrider thanks me for my help –he couldn’t have escaped without me following him– and suggests I go visit his sister (now that is a thank you), then takes off. I take my first step into Skyrim.

Skyrim is a huge step from Oblivion. There was five years between Oblivion and Skyrim but even so, the woodland, beautiful little streams, swaying grass, it’s so incredibly real – as in, not fantasy; it’s so close to a modern woodland I expect to see one of those dog poop bins. I debate which way to walk and take a look at the menu instead. Oblivion’s menu felt warm, like we were flicking through an old leather-bound book as did Morrowind’s insane diary, but Skyrim’s menu feels like an iOS; minimalist, clean, cold. The level up system looks beautiful though, with each ability represented as a star sign. We’ve got the usual inventory, which will get full of junk, weapons, magic and the much-shouted-about Dragon shouts. I’m looking forward to being a loudmouth so, against habit, I resolve to head towards Miss Hayride to get the main mission under way.

Where the hell is she?

The map is incredible and aggravating. It can be tilted and panned like Google Maps, but clouds pass over it obscuring everything. A map gives an RPG’er a sense not of direction, but how epic their adventure has been and how much more there is to do; it encourages exploring. From up here the adventure just looks cloudy and it keeps you at a distance.

Let’s make with the walking. There is a lot to walk in Skyrim and things to walk in to. The woodlands are lush with trees giving way to gorgeous rivers cutting through cliffs leading to castles, keeps, dungeons, forts, huge Dwemer ruins, camps, villages, graves, more ruins, but it all feels a bit realistic, familiar. More real than unreal, more recognisable than the high-fantasy of Morrowind. This just seems like 1970s Scotland. Most of the time fog descends, grey clouds roll over and it feels a bit depressed. Okay so it’s supposed to be an isolated and insulated part of Tamriel but Skyrim feels like I’m taking a shortcut through some inner-city park, where a bunch of scruffy kids will give me a quest to buy them a pack of Lambert & Butlers. The towns are cold and miserable and so are the NPCs. Sure, there’s a war on, that’ll make anyone grumpy but they’re as grey and humourless as their surroundings. It’s like the game was built to grey-scale rather than the lush colours of Oblivion or Morrowind’s stark contrasts. And if you’re not trudging through grey it’s white – snow is never interesting to look at in a game.

Fighting in Skyrim is hella fun, just repetitive. In Oblivion you can dual-wield sort of, if you had a sword in one hand and a spell or shield in the other. Skyrim goes for the ambidextrous look with two of almost anything, weapons and/or spells, except two-handed weapons of course. It doesn’t make a huge difference, you’ll still hack the hell out of everything, but in reskinning the death-animations from Fallout 3, you get some killer slo-mo kills; even on Dragons on occasion.

Problem is, the creatures are boring; dogs, wolves, bears, walruses, saber-cats and mammoths make up most of Skyrim’s creature features; it feels more like an alternative pre-history than fantasy game. None of the pure originality of a Netch or Guar, nothing truly fantasy. Worse, you quickly start to anticipate what you’ll encounter; every tomb has the zombie dead-walker types, every cave has a giant spider – cool, but when you’re unsurprised by a giant spider, something’s off and part of the problem is Skyrim’s sheer size. Dozens of samey crypts and caves means dozens of the samey creatures. Skyrim? Samerim.

There are some semi-human baddies we face up to, but they’re frustratingly under-used considering their backstory. We kill lots of the decrepit Falmer; Once ‘snow elves’, they were hunted to near extinction by Skyrim locals, the Nords, and hid in Dwemer ruins where subsiding on fungus turned them into blind monstrous slaves. It would have been involving to explore their tragic turn but they’re just fodder. Same goes for Hagraven; the only really f’ed up villains in the game who are criminally underused; a half bird woman!? That’s the stuff of nightmares. We do encounter a non-hostile Hagraven, which disappointingly behaves like a hiss and cackle witch from a kids tv show – how did the Hagraven end up so wasted? They’re amazing. Every time I encounter one I’m scared and disappointed in equal measure. Then there’s The Forsworn, reskinned Fallout 3 Raiders with a better backstory; forced into the wilderness by the Nords, they worship the Hagravens and demand the return of their land – there’s rumours they have spies in the cities sabotaging and weakening defences. Why aren’t they more heavily involved in the power struggle between the Nords and the Imperials? To get a well-organised and feared terrorist group on side in return for giving back their land seems like a no-brainer (Shepard would find a way) and the repercussions could be great; do you mobilise a dangerous group, can you control them, can they be trusted? None of that happens. Why does none of that happen?

There’s boo-hiss villains in the shape of the Thalmor who politically control the empire by using/abusing a peace-treaty struck after the power vacuum caused by the events of Oblivion (sorry). It’s their refusal to allow Talos worship (Martin’s ancestor! And the missing ‘Nine’) that triggers much of the events in Skyrim, but do we tangle with the Thalmor? Engage them, weaken their stranglehold, expose their machinations? Nope. They’re the power behind the throne, arguably the reason for all this unrest and coupled with the Forsworn and others we meet, this has the makings of a grand conspiracy, power-shifts, manipulations, sides to chose and repercussions to face; we are in the midst of a civil war after all, desperate times, desperate measures? Naa.

Anyway, Hayride explained when Talos worship was outlawed, Ulfric used it as a catalyst to rally the rest of the Nords to demand secession from the Empire and when – Sorry, can I just interject for a second? Ahem … DRAGONS! Anyone? I came for the giant flying lizards not to be tricked into Brexit the Video Game. Although you can choose allegiances you’re going to side with the Nords because they’re portrayed as the little guys trying to eke out a living vs the controlling Empire – plus you’ll go Nord if you’ve played Oblivion; Talos means something. Neither side is particularly compelling or pleasant though; the Imperials are not those of Oblivion and if you’d played as a Nord previously you’ll be disappointed at how racist your family is; although even that’s not consistent; they’re forcing everyone out of Skyrim who’s not pale-white with a mangled Norwegian accent yet they welcome me, an anthropomorphised Cat. Typical racist double-standards. I hate both sides, I’m gonna go make my own friends.

First stop, the Fighter’s guild – There is no fighter’s guild. Gone! Run off by the Nords I suppose. In its place, the Nord Companions. Companions? How is that cooler that FIGHTER’S GUILD!? The Companions?! It sounds like a local charity. What are we going to be doing, delivering meals on wheels, knitting scarfs? Who’s our sworn enemy, the Women’s Institute? They themselves aren’t too bad, sending you on odd-jobs, usually a tomb or crypt that needs clearing. That is until an internal issue pops up for you to sort out and be named as the new leader. It does offer a wicked cool option to be a werewolf, and they are brutal. Once that questline kicks in, I take back what I said about the Companions and I’m totally behind their church fete quest.

At first I thought why not have the FG replaced with someone we know, like the Blades. If Skyrim is isolationist it makes sense guilds wouldn’t have a presence, but the Blades would; He’s no Martin but there is an Emperor; he’d have sent the Blades in to see what’s what. That could be interesting – Nope. No new ‘spy guild’ for us. The Thalmor had the Blades disbanded and run off (By the Nords most likely) and all that’s left is a grumpy woman and an old fart. And, begrudgingly this time, me. They’re crow-barred in as a TES requirement and all they do is explain things and hate dragons as it turns out. Instead of endless rambling and driving the Dragon quest in a ‘you take care of this’ way that would have made Morrowind proud, we could have rebuilt the Blades and fumbled with the Thalmor! Re-forge them – No. We’ll stick with generic linear scripts we’ve used in TES since Arena thank you. When folks talk about the sheer size of Skyrim they’re talking about all the empty space where opportunity could have been.

The Thieves’ guild is also a shadow of its former self, living in the sewers and doing jobs for a local Crime Boss who runs the run-down town of Riften. The Thief we spend most of the time getting missions from just bangs on about restoring us to our former glory (We’re thieves, where’s the glory? It wasn’t glorious in Morrowind or Oblivion either); As we rob, ruin and intimidate folks for the Crime Boss, I realise I am actually a criminal and start to think this is refreshing. But that all gets dropped in favour of a completely obvious betrayal (They’re Thieves! Corrupt!) and guess who has to restore honour. I do this by joining an ancient group – Wait a minute, is it, could it be … Morrowind’s Bal Molagmer? Because that would be awes- no it’s the Nightingales. The what? Nightingales? I’m a hoodlum, not a 60s-back-up singer. The Thieves’ guild has fallen out of favour with its Daedric patron and her acolytes, Gladys Knight and the Nightingales must win her favour to bring down the betrayer. Something to do with the Daedra allots Thieves their luck. It was a lack of luck that got us betrayed, not the illegal aspect of our work attracting the wrong sort? Right. We best the betrayer and … Nothing. Why end just when it could have got interesting – the moral thievery they’ve been banging on about, become robin hoods, restart the Bal Molagmer, turn muddy Riften into a prosperous town, turn the tables on the Crime Boss; They’ve got a grand house, I figured we’d reclaim that as our new base but no it just ends and the Crime Boss literally craps on us from above. At Bethesda, someone looked at that quest line and said ‘End it with them still in the sewers? Job done.’ Just tell me the Dark Brotherhood are alive and well, killing.

After a deliciously nasty initiation ritual (Which you can ignore in favour of hunting down the Brotherhood instead) I find them living in a cave. Step up from a sewer I suppose but nothing on Oblivion’s creepy abandoned house in the middle of a town. My new friends are appropriately evil although not anywhere near as jovial or eccentric as those in Oblivion (“Good luck! I hope you don’t get killed!”). It’s another example Skyrim’s humourless characters; you rarely enjoy meeting them. Amongst my new clan are Astrid who leads our not-merry band and Babette who’s ripped shamelessly from Interview with the Vampire’s Claudia. The early missions are on a par with Oblivion’s, that is until a jester-like assassin, Cicero turns up. The Brotherhood needs a new Listener (top dog who gets kill orders from our Daedra, The Night Mother) and we all know who the Night Mother is going to choose … and then we’re betrayed. Technically twice. To be fair, the Dark Brotherhood quest has a lot of drama, another Shadowmere and it does end with the biggest assassination quest of the entire series, plus they do reclaim an old Brotherhood fort once I’m the Listener. And I get a spell to recall the spirit of my old Mentor from Oblivion. Nice to see him, under the circumstances.

The mages guild isn’t in Skyrim either (Nords deported them I’m guessing), but there is the College of Winterhold which feels like a DLC they forgot to put a lock on. I join the beginner’s class (Despite wielding spells pretty well by now) and on our first field trip we find something suspicious; a huge glowing ball. We’re then sent off to gather research while an even more suspicious mage takes an interest in it. Then … betrayal yadya yadya yadya. I kept playing truant because magic levels up with use anyway so why go to school and a big glowing ball just isn’t that interesting. There’s a subplot about super-mages who don’t want us unlocking the power of the big ball but all they do is tell me to stop touching it. Plus, this betrayal thing is getting old; Didn’t that guy in the office at Bethesda notice all the quests hinge on a traitor? “Another betrayal? They’ll never expect it a third time!”

Other than that, there’s only really the Bard’s College which does offer some light-heartedness, if you’re mischievous enough. The Head Bard asks you to search out an old parchment detailing a historical moment so he can create a story for the amusement of our Jarl but elements are missing; he asks you to help fill the blanks from knowledge gained during the adventure, and you can have some fun messing with the lines then watch him recite it for the Jarl. Well, not really, it’s another missed opportunity to inject some fun into the misery. Plus, the whole reason we doing this is to convince the Jarl to have a fete (put on by the Companions?) – her husband died so she’s not in the mood to judge the best marrow or whatever. Could Skyrim be any bleaker? Skyrim is just not fun. I’m going home.

Much like Oblivion, where I had to gain the pleasure of a city’s ruler to buy property, in Skyrim I need to curry favour with the Jarls. Helping locals will gain you their trust and a house you’ll forget you had; Rescuing a woman’s daughter from cannibals, investigating a ghost, they are more entertaining and original and like Morrowind, I start to avoid the main quest in favour of tracking down the random quests – At one point I joined in a drinking game and woke up with no memory and a Giant’s toe in my pocket, in what became a fantasy version of The Hangover. Swearing to never drink mead again, I go find me some dragons.

There’s no way to criticise dragon battles, but I’ll give it a go; Once you reach a certain point, like Oblivion’s Kvatch, dragons randomly appear and it’s great to trudge along and see one in the distance circling. It’s also a terrifying moment when you walk past a ruin and admire the giant dragon statue curled up on it – that’s not a statue is it. They also appear around the smaller villages when you fast travel in. You will die a lot but it is one of the most exhilarating experiences. Trying to avoid the shouts, the mouth, the claws, the wings, the tail, not to mention the sheer size of the things. It’s an epic encounter, terrifying when you hear one let alone see one. Think of the opportunities dragons present; finding a town now abandoned and you have to drive the dragon away to let it be repopulated, coming across a line of refugees and deciding if you’ll walk in the opposite direction to chase away the dragon that decimated their village, or one attacks and you’re forced to abandon the village or camp because you can’t beat it, swearing to return one day and avenge your people; see Dragons decimate areas, come across a burning field and get nervous knowing that means a dragon is about. But nothing remotely close to that happens. GTA SA managed to have ‘hoods under attack, why can’t dragons attack the villages and inns we find, give us a connection, a reason to charge into a clearly one-sided battle? Dragon appearances and behaviors are so heavily scripted that after a while you’re fighting on auto-pilot in pre-set circumstances. You never find one on the ground for example; imagine blundering into one feeding on a mammoth like you’re out for a swim and see a Shark Fin; you take off running, the adrenaline, the scare as you run screaming into a wood and watch it smash through trees, circling around, you trapped, looking for a way out or to face it – of course, a dragon could burn down a wood. Can’t it? No. They can’t even dragon properly; breathing fire on a wooden hut should do more damage than none. They just appear, act like a mini-boss and that’s that. This is the world-ending threat? Once I walked under one and into a shop, where the shopkeeper acts like nothing’s going on either then I left, because it doesn’t really matter what it does. Good games made you launch into battle even when you knew you’ll likely fail because you want to, or need to, but in Skyrim even a Dragon is nothing to Shout about.

Turns out when you do a Dragon Shout, the most anticipated part of Skyrim, it’s literally a magic yell, a kind of taunt between dragons. Being incinerated is both literally and figuratively a burn. I unlock shouts by finding dragon language on walls. I do this on my own; how the hell did I just pronounce that squiggle?! What am I, Prince? I may be the ‘Dragonborn’, but surely I at least need some language lessons. Most shouts are just XXL spells like fire, ice and so on; Shout should be a game-changer but it’s a huge let down. I can only power them up by discovering new wall-words which turns Shouts into a driver for exploring the same dingy dungeons (Zombies and Spiders, yay) for more words. Most of the shouts are too random or unhelpful anyway; Causing a thunderstorm was cool, until lightning killed the horse I was sitting on and what does a 100-foot long Dragon want with a shout that makes lower-level animals cower? Once fully charged they do some damage and the one that sends things flying is fun (everyone uses it on Ulfric’s dinner table) but they should be more than super-powered spells, and that they barely stagger Dragons is the biggest tell-tale that Shout wasn’t really thought through. They should be like the force in Jedi Outcast; so effective, so powerful that’s all you use – yet it’s a one shout then a recharge? Waste of time. Maybe it’s my accent.

Suppose we’d best go find out why Dragons returned and what this Dragonborn nickname’s about. Via the bunch of old guys in robes who can Dragonspeak, and the grumpy Blades, it turns out that dragon at the beginning had a name, Alduin; ‘The World Eater’ – Long ago, Alduin united the dragons and concluded he must destroy everything that’s not Dragon. Bit like the Nords really. He was eventually bested by the Blades who basically sent him into the future to give folks time to figure out how to stop him but their plan was to just wait until he returned it seems. While Alduin continues his prophecy, the old guys have their own; Someone who can pass an assault course of Shouts will be named Dragonborn, now prophesied to kill Alduin; What is it with Tamriel and their ‘someone else’ll do it’ prophecies? I like the idea that this generation of Blades has to face up to what the previous generation did but that’s not what it’s about unfortunately. Neither is the tension between the Old Guys being pro-Dragon and the Blades being anti-Dragon; they both want Alduin gone but that goes absolutely nowhere considering I’m heavily involved in both their plans. I just side with one at the end; I am the worst hero ever. Skyrim is really showing it’s age, even back then; it’s the most linear open world game I’ve ever played – Mass Effect 1 was 4 years before and had me agonising over what to do about Conrad; Skyrim constantly gives you black or white choices, ironic given how grey the rest of it is.

The other main quest, the ownership of Skyrim seems more interesting (that anything is more interesting than Dragons is a worry). The Imperials are portrayed as invaders and in theory, you’ve come to love Skyrim and want to protect it. You won’t. All that been happening is me wandering about taking over Imperial camps while Ulfric and his grumpy pal bitch about the invaders. I wonder if Ulfric is actually a coward, like this is part of the plot. It isn’t, he’s just woefully underdeveloped. How does Oblivion, some five years younger, run emotional rings around something as huge as Skyrim? This is the guy I’m supposed to follow, like Martin? No one does anything except me; in Oblivion everyone got involved. It would be nice to come across more action that’s not dependent on me triggering it, as if there really is progress, like there is a war on like they keep saying. War isn’t hell in Skyrim, I’m not sure it’s even in Skyrim. I’m gonna go see what the DLC has to offer, maybe there’s something there worth saving.

Dawnguard pits you against the single most hated characters in all of Tamriel; Vampires. A Vampire Lord is planning on using an Elder Scroll to blot out the sun. In Skyrim? I’ve not seen the sun yet. To be fair, Bethesda do seem to know how debilitating being a vampire is and Dawnguard turns into something quite tempting. The dragons are a bit beefier and you gain more areas and stuff to do in Skyrim, but do you really want more Skyrim? What about more Morrowind? Whoa.

Dragonborn takes place in Solstheim, off the Morrowind coast. I just saw a Netch! There’s a house made of Mushroom! Silt Strider! It’s good to be home. We’re looking for a guy calling himself First Dragonborn who wants to kill me, Incumbent Dragonborn. We hunt him through lairs like a Goth’s fever dream and there’s freaky creatures that would make a Morrowind local nervous – no one’s watching those things mate for ‘research’. It’s a throw-back romp that’s carried by good feelings for Morrowind and a plot that affects you rather than a bunch of racist NPCs and you gain a Shout that allows you to ride Dragons (Not as much fun as you think, this is Skyrim afterall). Also, why would a Dragon have a word for ‘ride another dragon’? Best ask those Morrowind research guys.

Hearthfire allows you to design and build your own home. It’s a nice way to delve into the world of Skyrim a little more and you can adopt some kids to move in once you’ve wooed a local to be the stay-at-home parent (Everyone available for love seems to be both gender and species neutral – they may be racist but love conquers all). They bake while the kids pester you and you can hire a steward, bard and a hayride driver – there’s other homely distractions like tending crops or beehives, go farming or fishing. It’s one of the very few elements of Skyrim that really pin you to the world and give you a reason to go dragon slaying or topple governments. Hearthfire shouldn’t have been a DLC it should have been the tutorial; a home you want to protect – then you’d care about the world a little more.

Eventually the war and dragon quest-lines intersect. We need to use a place called Dragonreach to capture a dragon alive and reach Alduin. How do we do that? We all sit around a table. What? The various factions we’ve tangled with thus far; Imperial and Nords, the Blades and the Valmor, the Old Guys; they talk for hours about everyone’s grumbles and gripes until a ceasefire is agreed. It may be realistic but there’s dragons outside, how’s about we GET ON WITH IT. Shepard wouldn’t have stood for this, she/he would have made some pithy speech or clobbered someone, something decisive – All I do is sit quietly and occasionally get a ‘what does the dragonborn think?’ option. I dunno I wasn’t listening. I’m the Dragonborn, I’m tasked with killing the King of the Dragons yet I can’t bring a meeting to order? Dragons! No urgency, no panic? All this scene does is draw attention to the lack of impact both the war and the dragons have had on the world. And when we get Dragonreach, why the hell doesn’t the Worldeater have something to say about it? I just walk in and capture a dragon. Alduin must have guessed this course of action. With just a bit of rejigging and imagination, some guts, we’d have an epic, visceral, memorable Skyrim defining moment; Imagine an army of Dragons waiting outside Dragonreach? How amazing would that have been? In Oblivion, you had to assemble an army to fight a Great Oblivion Gate, it would have been brilliant to assemble troops of Nords and Imperials having helped resolve their differences, then launch an attack backed up by my guilds; Thieves, Assassins, Companion werewolves, Mages with their big ball, Bards playing sick riffs as we all ran at a load of Dragons. Braveheart it. If Mass Effect 3 can do it… It would have been awesomeness. Pull all the disparate threads together. The epicness, oh how cool would that have been, everyone doing it for Skyrim, inspired by me; a true hero. Anything but this, our ‘hero’ listening passively to a bunch of old white men bicker about politics. It’s like watching medieval Question Time.

And what of Alduin? Facing him is the culmination of everything we’ve worked towards – this guy made his home in the afterlife, he’s so pissed at humanity he hunts them even after they’ve died; I’m beginning to wish I’d died at the beginning, particularly when it degenerates into a roustabout with a few token shouts thrown in. And as added annoyance, I’m warned surviving dragons won’t take kindly to their king being offed – In other words there’s still dragons to fight. Literally nothing has changed.

So it’s back to the real world to bring the soap-opera war to a close. Ulfric becomes King Coward and the Imperials are ousted. But, some will stick around less than pleased about their General being offed. Sounds familiar. Ulfric does nothing kingly, nothing heroic or even underhanded; I at least expected him to thank me then banish me, make it bitter-sweet what with me not being a Nord and all. No. Disgusted, I don’t even bother sticking around for his victory speech.

So Talos is free to be worshiped again but I’m not sure he’d want to be worshiped by this lot. I know I don’t; if I could, I would have joined Alduin’s faction and eaten this world myself. Even the Valmor are still knocking about. Nothing changed and that’s infuriating after some fifty hours spent in this hellhole. There’s one final mission; the Blades are banging on about a surviving dragon they demand I kill. It’s true, we did meet a Big Friendly Dragon (yet more missed opportunities) but I know Skyrim now; it’s taken the safe option every time and killing BFD will make no difference, plus he was the only interesting thing in the game – I hoped BFD would suggest I kill the Blades to protect him (My preferred option) but he doesn’t so Skyrim just … stops.

Skyrim is incredibly involving, deep and detailed. It’s huge. Insanely huge, overwhelming huge. It is an incredible achievement but just not really fun; it’s hard to muster the energy to keep wandering the misty, grey landscape and want to make it a better place, help the locals, adventure the way you did in Morrowind or Oblivion. The level of detail, of RPG opportunity is off the charts – building your home, your weapons, armour, even relationships but the broad strokes; dragons and war are frustratingly low impact and almost every place you investigate is the same as the last one. One location, a deep cave beneath a Dwemer ruin is bigger than most DLCs; a thing of beauty lit by bioluminescent mushrooms, I must have spent three hours just in that cave – it even had it’s own mini-missions; that’s amazing. But Skyrim is too big to maintain that level of wonderment; it’s so vast it levels out, flatlines

As I head for the Steam departures lounge, I reflect on the time it took to rinse The Elder Scrolls Morrowind, Oblivion and Skyrim; there is no richer franchise in gaming and I’ve barely touched on my experiences. During Morrowind, I was constantly frustrated by the lack of drive until I realised how freeing it was – I truly lived a fantasy life; I didn’t have to take on every mission, join every guild, I overwhelmed myself by meddling in everything. Oblivion is an experience; you get involved and alongside characters you care about, in a world you want to see put right, you reach an ending that makes you sit back and say ‘I did it’.

what did I doSkyrim though. There’s no doubting it’s a rich, interesting world. But the core of the Elder Scrolls is getting dull; as the games get bigger, the missions get smaller; Keeping guilds so linear and segmented, a main mission that doesn’t have an impact, all set in a world that doesn’t change – RPG doesn’t work like that anymore. Fallout 3, Far Cry 3, Mass Effect 2; they all arrived before Skyrim and all featured side-quests and plots that got tangled up, had moments you can’t take back. Skyrim refuses to change; it starts out as a battered, bitter world and ends the same – you’re left asking ? Skyrim is safe, and that’s no way to adventure.

The Real Elder Scrolls Adventurers

Morrowind the game is old, making Morrowind the world hard to disappear into. It’s quaint, but clunky. I wondered why folks love Morrowind enough to rebuild it for free.

TESRenewal ProjectI soon found out. The ‘s Morroblivion breathes life into something that was never struggling for breath, just a modern outlet. Every detail is there in a clean, astonishingly committed recreation. There’s some concessions but it’s a beautiful reproduction and a pleasure to get lost yet again. That they’re now committed to modding it into Skyrim’s engine means as long as there’s TES there’ll be a new Morrowind and I can’t wait to replay Morrowind every time Bethesda releases a new TES.

Finally, my trip could not have been made possible without the TES equivalent of the Lonely Planet; Unofficial Elder Scrolls Project – An independent site established in 1995, UESP details every aspect of Elder Scrolls. If it’s in the game it’s on this site, all 50 thousand pages of it – so far. That’s a testament not to the sheer scale of Bethesda’s world but the fans that keep it alive. I would not have survived Tamriel without UESP.

Developer; Bethesda Game Studios | Publisher; Bethesda Softworks

Morrowind 2002

Oblivion 2006

Skyrim 2011

platforms; win | xbox 360 | PS3

Morrowind | Oblivion | Skyrim – Pt1

A SECOND WIND special REVIEW

Morrowind, Oblivion & Skyrim – Pt1

In this, the first of a two part special, FBT decides to take a Gap Year in Tamriel. Will he survive the Cliff Racers? Take an Arrow to the knee? Or just doss about getting lost and forget what he’s doing? Let’s find out. *spoilers*

I felt it was time for a holiday. But not some all-inclusive linear break, I wanted to travel my own path, my own adventure on my own terms, see what the world was all about. The world of Tamriel, land of The Elder Scrolls; the gamer’s equivalent of Tolkien. Like a mashup between Greek and Geek Mythology, TES is fantasy in digital form; Sword and Sorcery, Chose Your Own Adventure, Dungeons & Dragons, those hokey 80s fantasy videos that didn’t live up to the scantily clad front cover; it’s all here. Morrowind, Oblivion and Skyrim were my destinations. Shouldn’t take long.

My trip began like any other – I wake next to a bare-chested man and get thrown off a cruise ship. I’m a criminal mysteriously set free, here at a small fishing village in Morrowind. It had been ten years since I’d visited Morrowind and only finished it once. This was where my TES love began – Wandering around the tiny seaside village, I wondered why I hadn’t returned more often; it looks great, otherworldly. A little aged but there’s an exciting, mysterious sense to the place. I’m itching to explore, sit on the beach at sunset and get a henna tattoo. As is always the case with an RPG, my first order of business was to avoid all orders of business. I decided to stick to the coast and see how far I could get. Not far, it turned out.

Morrowind is both bleak and rich. Even though it was released in 2002 and feels it, Morrowind is still engrossing. There’s a lot of nothingness but it feels unexplored rather than empty with a nice eerie feel. I encounter the loveable Netch and the infamous Cliff-racers, just a few of the truly fantasy-inspired creatures that kill me as I ramble; and the places you explore; castles, keeps, mines, foreboding crypts and caves, imposing gothic shrines, Aztec-style buildings, hidden doors in tree roots, marshes and swamplands filled with more creatures that kill me. Meanwhile the citizens of Morrowind have made this land homely; giant mushrooms and trees hollowed out into towns, villages on stilts with rickety bridges, campsites; they all feel right in this environment. Vivec, the centre of Morrowind is a huge town made up of enclosed buildings over a lake while Ald’ruhn is centred on a huge hollowed out crab carapace. But all of that is way ahead of me; a quick look at the map shows I’d barely moved a pixel. This was going to be a long trip. A lack of optional fast travel means walking. Walking, fighting a cliff racer, walking, fighting another cliff racer. But there’s always something along the way, a distraction, a thing to check out, a a cliff-racer. It’s impossible to walk in a straight line. Partly because within moments I’ve collected enough junk to slow my walk to a crawl. It’s then that I realise the lack of fast travel means weight management, a sturdy silver sword and lockpicks aplenty. And potions. Good armour. Magic spells. None of which I have. I’m underprepared and overwhelmed. I drag my over-encumbered self back to town catching diseases from Mud Crabs and pecked by cliff-racers all the way; Morrowind isn’t for the flashpackers.

Fighting in Morrowind, be it with folks or creatures is something of a crapshoot. A kind of turn-based roustabout, you flail at your opponent and mostly miss. But you have a lot of choice to miss with; big swords, little swords, daggers, spears, long and short bows, crossbows, throwing stars, plus magic. Spells that lob fire, ice and defensive options like invisibility and resistance make life in the fantasy bush much easier. Morrowind gives you as much freedom as it can for you to become the mighty hero you dreamed of and dress like one too. Armour, magical cloaks, masks, hats, gloves, all interchangeable. And what’s under the clothes is just as important; character creation includes male or female from 10 different races with 3 skill disciplines across 21 classes – or build your own.

So, back where I started, what the hell am I doing here? How do I get involved? Reaching one of the bigger towns without walking means pre-set fast travel, via a Mages Guild (if a member), boats or one of the unnerving Silt Striders; huge aphid-type creatures which have had their innards scooped out to allow you to sit inside while the driver squeezes its brain to make it walk about. Animal cruelty doesn’t seem to be an issue in Morrowind. Neither is slavery. It’s legal in Morrowind, although opinion on the practice is divided and I quickly join a mini game around rescuing slaves. It’s an odd subplot that doesn’t go anywhere; aside from being recognised as a friend to slaves nothing really comes of it. It’s not a subject you just leave unresolved – especially if your character is the same type as is often enslaved.

So I finally reach Balmora, a more upmarket town to the one I just left then staggered back to. I find my Air BnB booking and meet the landlord, another shirtless chap who offers to let me share his single bed. He explains I was freed on the Emperor’s orders and sets me off running errands for him. Not sure this is exactly what the emperor had in mind, but okay. He also suggests I get in with the locals and soon enough, I’ve fallen in with the Thieves Guild. I also join the Mage’s guild, Fighter’s guild, Imperial’s Legion and Cult, the Temple and … think that’s it. In all cases, joining them basically requires me to find, fetch or kill something. The Thieves guild has a great side-mission where you restart legendary Robin Hood types the Bal Molagmer, while the Fighter’s guild missions reveal themselves in an interesting way; they’ve fallen under the influence of a mafia (the Camonna Tong) and want to muscle in on the Thieves’. Although it seems you’ll have to take a side, it doesn’t really go anywhere; having joined both it would have been great to cleanse and team them up to fight the C.Tong but it just kind of fizzles out. Most of the guild quests do this, you reach ‘no more missions for you’ and the leader retires and promotes you or you kill them and promote yourself.

Talking of getting away with murder, I track down and join the Morag Tong, basically official assassins. This should make for interesting missions, but as a Tong you’re above the law meaning assassination eventually becomes a bit … dull. Hump over here, kill this person, show your writ of execution and quest complete. I’m getting my first inkling of why I struggled to finish Morrowind. It takes a lot to stay enthusiastic; unlike other RPGs with big, dramatic missions to keep you moving or preparing, if the quest doesn’t run out of steam I do. If it’s not the sheer distance it’s what I have to do when I get there – one mission has me finding some mud. There’s some lovely little random missions though, like finding a woman on the road who has been mugged only to fall in love with the mugger. Guess I’ll track him down for you then love? I come across a naked barbarian who was tricked out of his clothes by a witch, a guy stuck in a river cos someone stole his trousers and find two bachelors who were watching animals mate ‘for research’. Can I get the doggers to safety without disturbing the rutting monsters? Don’t see that in your everyday RPG game. Morrowind was sold on the fact I could ignore missions if I wanted to but with nothing to drive you forward it takes real commitment to finish when no one else seems to want you to. What am I doing again? Oh yes, the diary will remind me.

The diary. Oh God. Every comment is recorded in it, and it becomes impossible to keep track of what’s going on. The DLCs revamped it but it’s still like listening to someone describe a dream. With no mission marker, my first playthrough I kept a real diary noting locations and missions so I could figure out what was going on. Morrowind is not for those who dip in an out. Diary entries like ‘maybe someone in Balmora knows more’ abound. There’s 120-plus folks in Balmora. I can’t even remember what I’m asking around about. There’s over 2,800 people across the game, and you can talk to all of them! Talking to people means clicking through dozens of dialogue options, some of which will reveal more topics. Soon you’re button mashing through chat like a sword battle.

So after many chores for my shirtless landlord, he admits he’s one of the ‘Blades’, a secret group of the Emperor’s spies and protectors and explains the Emperor freed me because I might be the ‘Nerevarine’ – a reincarnation of a past hero who will return and defeat Dagoth Ur, an immortal nasty who intends to destroy Tamriel. Epic. Well, epic amount of missioning and walking, and epic amount of indifference; Ur is going to lay waste to the land and no one seems to care, no one’s panicking. The only real visual reminder is an ‘blight storm’ that appears randomly and the occasional ash creature that escapes from the mountain Ur is dwelling in – trapped behind a wall of magic, further disconnecting me from the drama.

I find myself drawn to the DLCs, just for a change of pace. The first, Tribunal is set after the main mission within Mournhold, a walled city self-contained from the main game. Tribunal attempts to continue the story, to examine the ramifications of my actions –if I ever complete them– its brave but isn’t strong enough; why not have it unfold in Vivec, prolong the game naturally (Can’t believe I’m suggesting that) in the world I’m connected to? Why here in a self-contained village? It’s just not interesting, and while there’s upwards of 40 quests including some great side missions like helping a woman meet the man of her dreams, replacing an actor in a street theatre, it’s not worth the effort beyond scamming some slightly better weaponry. Back to the main mission. I can do this. After another 30 or so quests, I’ve been recognised as the Nerevarine and I get to build my own mini-town where I convince settlers to join my commune, although I have to wait weeks to see it built. I miss modern RPG games where I do a mission, get back and the quest-giver already knows and has a new mission lined up. While the builders fanny about I escape to Solstheim, the setting for the second DLC, Bloodmoon. Here no one cares I’m the Nerevarine, they’re more concerned about folks turning into wolves. This is more like it. Solstheim is a tiny snow-capped island and after a few fairly typical missions, I get turned into a werewolf and can play as one whenever it’s nighttime. It’s fun for a while, then a bit of a pain; not as painful as becoming a vampire but still. Problem is, due to a random bug the mission path gets broken and I never resolve it. Bethesda are good at two things – Creating huge RPG games and filling them with bugs. Given their game’s sheer scale and the intricate rules and paths it’s inevitable but frustrating. I’m completely stuck and so it’s back to an earlier pre-Bloodmoon save. My commune is back to just scaffolding. But, Bloodmoon does distil much of Morrowind into a leaner experience. And you get to be a werewolf.

So back where I started I push on. My character is someone to be reckoned with, the map looks suitability stomped on and I realise I’ve become an adventurer, I’m living in this world and I’m curiously involved in it, enjoying the wandering and discovering. I even just talk to folks to see if they have any new gossip. I’m a local. Now I feel Morrowind’s leisurely pace is refreshing; I’ve carved a place in the world and enjoy just setting off, looking for adventure, having a great time just lost and finishing up side-quests as I go rather than focused on them. Eventually though, I save the day and to be honest, I’ve fought mud crabs more fearsome. Plus, I walk out a hero and everyone’s carrying on as if nothing happened; at best I get dialogue options like ‘Ur is defeated! Morrowind is free. Did you pick up my shirt?’

As I leave my house in Balmora for the last time (I say my house; with the exception of your commune you can’t own houses so I murdered a shopkeeper and lived with his corpse – you really can do anything in Morrowind), I look around at the piles of junk and treasure I accumulated and feel a twinge of sadness to be leaving. Rather than pull you in with drama and panic, Morrowind’s strength is you make it what it is and I made it great. Eventually. It’s a game you have to get not a game that gets you. I look at the horizon, listen to the forlorn call of the Strider, watch folks milling about. You know, I never did pick up that shirt. I start walking.

So, having decimated the local cliff racer population, it was time for this tourist to move on. I was being called to a more vibrant, happening part of the world, soak up what it means to be a citizen of Tamriel. I was going to Cyrodiil; aka Oblivion.

I wake up in jail where I’m visited by none other than the emperor, who says I’m the person from his dreams. Oh-ho. It transpires he’s only interested in an escape route via my cell. The Emperor’s under attack from a secret sect intent on bringing Mehrunes Dagon, a Daedra prince into our realm and he explains this was all foretold in his vision, including my involvement; I believe him because he’s got Patrick Stewart’s voice. During our escape, he explains Oblivion -where Mehrunes lives- and Tamriel are kept separate by Dragonfire which stays lit while an ancestor of Talos, such as himself is on the throne. Then Patrick gets murdered. I’m sorry! I was distracted by his voice. But, he had a secret illegitimate son just for this eventuality (that old excuse; ‘Queenie, babes, it’s not what it looks like, I had a vision and it said me and the maid must …’), so it’s on me to find this last heir and restore him to the throne before Mehrunes makes his entrance. So off I go, and stop dead. Wow, Cyrodiil looks a lot different to Morrowind. It’s rich and warm; grass, trees, very unlike Morrowind’s desolation and dug-in tone. Even the mud crabs are dainty compared to the yobs marauding about in Morrowind. Learning nothing from my early ramble into Morrowind’s wastes, I head off in any random direction.

After only a short period of time wandering along a gorgeous coastline, skipping over mud crabs and running shrieking from flappy Imps, I feel myself drawn to finding the Emperor’s son. Patrick and I only spent a relatively short tutorial of time together, but his assassination, the promise I made and the surviving guard’s reaction to the loss were compelling. I want to see where this story goes. It felt immediately big in comparison to Morrowind’s slow-burn. I make a bee-line for the mission marker (Mission marker! Thank Talos) and try and fail to not get distracted along the way.

Oblivion does look great, but a little more accessible, relatable, commercial than Morrowind. The creatures you encounter are more recognisable; gone are the Cliff Racers, there’s no Nix-Hounds or Guar, the Silt Striders are no more. Instead we have wolves and bear while scampering about are deer and sheep but there’s some fantasy still; in the woods, watch out for the (unnervingly attractive) Spriggan, a kind of half woman, half tree thing that can summon bears while the rest are fairly seen-it-before; goblins and ogres, minotaurs and the ruins have their ghosts and skeletons. Oblivion just feels more mainstream than geekdream. We’re running about in the Yorkshire Dales and the towns look more Middle England than Middle Earth, but I don’t harbour that feeling of sell-out for long. It makes sense that the Imperial city area would be more civilised and colonised. Towns have been built rather than hollowed out and they have identities; Bravil is all muddy roads and wooden lob-sided huts, a fishing town on hard times while the port of Anvil is that bit richer, reflected in the grand buildings and the inhabitants. We stumble into little farms and villages, inns set by rivers and lakes; it’s idyllic but missing that grittiness of Morrowind, that cut from the land feel. I miss that horrible wail you’d hear while exploring crypts; instead we get expansive ‘Ayleid’ Ruins. Gentrification for you.

Playing in Oblivion is easier too. Swinging swords is not the squabbles of Morrowind; blocking is now an action rather than luck and landing hits is easier as is spell casting. There’s a great selection of weapons too, if pared down from Morrowind’s armoury but there’s a ton of magic spells to have fun with. The character’s wardrobe has been slimmed down too – for example you can’t layer; who goes adventuring without layering? It’s not that impactful, it just feels more restrictive that Morrowind, which insisted you have complete control – Oblivion is a tighter, more focused game; exactly what I complained was missing from Morrowind, yet here I am missing that freedom. Much like Morrowind you start off as a ruffian and just hack and cast until I’ve levelled-up to a more refined, specialist style; it’s just more Oblivion’s style than mine. Interaction with NCPs is a huge step forward from Morrowind’s endless text adventures though, although you can’t insult folks into attacking. I miss that.

There’s not much else I miss from Morrowind now I’m into it; we have, bless Talos, a quest diary that makes sense and a fast-travel menu. After a while though, the map reveals how little I explore when I can fast travel about. I rarely plan my quest the way I would in Morrowind; study the map, ask around, prepare, then set out and get distracted. I miss the Morrowind shuffle, limping into town triumphant, weighed down with goodies. Nothing stopping me of course – Oblivion has just exposed I’m a bit of a lazy adventurer.

Trading in Oblivion is roughly the same as in Morrowind, getting a trader to like you will mean better prices, but over-play it and you’ll piss them off. Most traders won’t accept stolen goods (How’d you know I stole that apple?) and will only buy items that reflect their wares. So trying to sell a sword to a seamstress is a no-go. This does mean you end up browsing the entire Imperial city shopping mall or find a friendly Thieves’ guild fence to take everything off your hands.

Continuing to ignore the main quest I join the Thieves’, Fighter’s and Mage’s Guilds. The Imperials can’t be joined this time nor can the Morag Tong; instead, there’s the more evil splinter group, The Dark Brotherhood; entry is via murdering someone. This is harder than it seems. Exactly how the guards see you commit crimes I’ll never know. I heard ‘Stop! You’ve broken the law!’ so many times I started looking for CCTV; sometimes I was wanted and had no idea what I’d done. Accepting punishment mean losing all your ill-gotten gains and costs XP so your best bet is join the Thieves who can bribe the guards. Eventually I’m in the Brotherhood though, and unlike the Tong, this time there’s no writs of execution. We’re strictly murdering for profit. Planning and ‘executing’ the murders is mostly left up to me, but others in the clan offer suggestions on how to go about it. I shouldn’t really enjoy it this much but its great planning and getting away with murder and as the missions’ progress, they don’t just get harder to pull off but something really sinister begins to emerge within the Brotherhood. Plus I get ‘shadowmere’, a jet black horse with red eyes. You can ride horses in Oblivion although even if you own the horse they tend to wander. Sometimes they pop up later, other times they’re gone for good. At one point I discovered a unicorn and managed to ride that before losing it. Still, I was briefly the most fabulous looking fighter in all of Cyrodiil. Later I needed the unicorn for a mission and it was still missing. Worth it though, so fabulous.

The Fighter’s guild missions are great; varied and centre around rivals The Blackwood Company. The Thieves’ guild takes a while to get going but the last mission is a great heist; the final prize the biggest thief of all though. There’s no Bal Molagmer quests which is a shame, I would have liked to have seen them re-emerge after Morrowind. The Mages guild mission turns into a great mini-war that could have been expanded even more; the arch mage’s edict that necromancy is to be purged triggers a fight for supremacy between mages and necromancers. But before I can get in the middle of it I have to go around, Morrowind style and get the buy-in from every Mage’s Hall. Unlike Morrowind’s ‘find me some mushrooms’, those are interesting – One standout is adopt a clan of Scamps and find them a new home. You often find Mages and Necromancers having fights and the end is pretty dark.

Quest time

Another sort of mini quest is the Daedric shrines. Dotted around the wilderness you’ll come across various NCPs praying to statutes of the Daedra, supernatural sort-of Gods like Mehrunes who alter and manipulate mankind for their amusement. If you have the right offering you will be tasked with a challenge or quest and completing it will net you a Daedric weapon. Some are awesome, most will end up in your houses’ display cabinets but the missions are always an enjoyable distraction and a glimpse into the Daedric world – Gods have problems too.

There’s Arena battles, as Gladiator-style I fight for the entertainment of the crowd and the fame (and Oblivion’s most infamous character, Adoring Fan) and there’s great stumble-on missions to be found; Overall, there’s a lot less questing in Oblivion (some 280 to Morrowind’s 450+ quests) but there’s rarely a dud – and then there’s Oblivion’s famous DLC.

If you are GOTY’ing, you have the infamous horse armour (I couldn’t armour the unicorn which would have been really fabulous). It was a rip-off, no matter what Bethesda claim was their intention and shamefully, publishers didn’t take the public reaction to heart and continued hawking rip-off filler; Horse Armour will always be the meme for crappy DLC. Thankfully though, the rest of Oblivion’s DLC is mostly top notch. Mostly.

Oblivion’s main DLC, Shivering Isles takes place elsewhere, and like Morrowind’s Tribunal it’s a misstep to remove me from the world I just spent an age defending, and it plays as disjointed as it sounds; northern Mania is identical to southern Dementia but one is vibrant and insane, the other dark and oppressive. You’re tasked by the ruler of this Daedric land, the Madgod Sheogorath to stop the Greymarch; an entity which destroys everything in his kingdom in an endless Reaper-like cycle. Shivering is a hard place to get into, let alone save; it’s disorientating and the quests are abstract; while some elements are startling, its a change of pace the main game didn’t need. The weaponry is nice though, it’s worth jumping in long enough to tool up and get an edge back in the real world.

Conversely, the much smaller Knights of the Nine could have been a lot bigger. A really fun mission, lots of fighting and exploring and general derring-do as you rebuild the Order of the Knights, culminating in an amazing airborne fight miles above Cyrodiil. The result is armour you’ll likely never use, a location you can crash in and your own mini militia you can call on. They, and others dotted around the game can be brought along as companions but you’ll spend most of you time getting them out of trouble rather than them helping you out of it. There’s no kissy stuff with them either.

The second mini-DLC is a fairly linear story to recover Mehrunes’ Razor. This is worth attempting early on, as the razor -an enchanted dagger- is brutally strong for low-level characters as it has the chance to deliver one-hit kills. It’s a running fight through dungeons, mines and ruins to reach it and there’s a Morag Tong assassin knocking about too. If you find him, he’s wearing some of the best armour in the game. Alternatively, you can chance letting him continue on his mission and clear you a path – then try to track him down for that armour. There’s a good end mission too before you can claim that badass dagger.

Welcome

There’s some nice DLC options for the homemakers too. By far the best is Battlehorn Castle. Besting some leveled bandits gets you an entire castle to call your own, complete with a militia and staff including a smith and even a taxidermist who will stuff your kills. This would have felt better tied into Knights of the Nine but it’s still a great addition and within the mysterious walls you can uncover the fate of the original owner’s ancestors. Other locations include a mage’s tower where you can hone your skills and create beasties as companions, a vampire’s retreat complete with a butler who will find kills for you (and a way to cure vampirism), and a pirate’s cavern complete with a Goonies-style ship inside a caved-in cove; once claimed and fully upgraded (who knew Pirates were so house-proud) you’ll build a crew and send them off to loot. The only problem really is something of an embarrassment of riches. Why would I spent thousands on a Bravil hut when I have a castle? Fast travel means I don’t have to worry about finding a safe haven to dump all my crap as I go like Morrowind, so I only invest in city houses when I have more money than sense. To think in Morrowind I lived as a squatter with a dead body and spent hours shuttling items back and forth, and here I am frustrated I can’t recall which of my thirteen homes I left Mehrunes’ Razor in. There’s an Imperial Orrery you can help build too, which is pretty and gives some useful power-ups. So, having wandered around and gotten a feel for the world I’d better find that bastard of Patrick’s.

The bastard, or Martin as he prefers, is trapped in a town called Kvatch, under siege from the vanguard of Mehrunes’ invasion. This sequence is really well done; Kvatch looks sacked and ruined, the Daedra are dug in and getting them out isn’t easy. The fights are brutal and it’s hard to not get killed, or kill your fellow soldiers. In the midst of battle when you’re merrily swinging at Scamps, a comrade will decide the best place for him to stand is between your sword and the Scamp. All the other soldiers stop what they’re doing to yell ‘murder!’ – If I just wound them I get ‘you’ve broken the law!’ or at the very least, they scowl constantly. Fighting drains your strength as well as the soldiers patience, but leveling up allows you to extend strength as well as Health and Magic, along with adding to your other abilities. You can pick multiple disciplines, raising your ability to talk, lockpick etc., refining you hero.

So, the battlefield strewn with the bodies of my fallen comrades (sorry), I push on and reach an Oblivion Gate – Those gates are, as the name suggests, portals into Mehrunes’ world and a staging ground for his troops. The nightmarish world inside is filled with lava, nasties and horrible black gothic spires I fight my way up to reach a keystone known as the Sigil Stone. Removing it closes the gate and stops the invasion. I am now ‘the hero of Kvatch’ so hail the surviving and scowling guards.

My Best Friend

Kvatch saved, I find Martin and greet him by accidentally whacking him with my sword, mixing up my interact and murderer buttons. Luckily, for me at least, I only knocked the heir-apparent unconscious. Story-critical NPCs can’t be killed, although they’re rarely happy about it. That’s a change from Morrowind where everyone’s vulnerable and you can break the main mission with one swing but Martin gets up unharmed and afterwards, despite referring to me as his saviour and eventually his greatest friend, from that meeting onwards he always gave me a scowl that would make the guards proud.

Martin and I reach the safety of the Blades, who fill Martin in on his dad and his legacy and I’m made a Blade too so Martin tasks me, his friend/attempted murderer, with finding the items he needs to relight the Dragonfire and stop Mehrunes. Martin helps to keep the main mission focused; to begin, he seems convinced it’s hopeless but as I chip away at the tasks and we talk, he starts to gain a glimmer of hope. I hadn’t put a lot of thought into voice-acting before, but Martin, voiced brilliantly by Sean Bean really comes to life. You can hear the self-doubt that plagues him and understand the scale of what we’re attempting to achieve. Martin is essentially just the main-quest-quest-giver but somehow becomes more, along the lines of Mass Effect’s Anderson; he may not adventure with you but he’s a friend and returning to him battered and bloody is compelling because he appreciates what you’ve been through and apologises for sending you back into further danger. I like the bastard.

Another one

As Mehrunes gets a grip on the world, Oblivion Gates begin opening all over Cyrodiil and his denizens start to put in more appearances, from the Clannfears and unnervingly attractive Spider-women to the brutal Deadroth, a kind of Killer Croc thing. Leaving Gates unattended doesn’t do a great deal but closing it gets you a Sigil Stone which can be used to magic-up your weaponry and armour so they’re worth the slog. But that slog isn’t to be taken lightly; even the plants can injure you and inside the spires there’s traps, close-quarter fighting and general unpleasantness. But once free of Oblivion you’ll be proudly if exhaustedly staring at the ruined gate with your newly enchanted weapon, a ton of loot, a fame point (raising the disposition of NPCs) and likely spot yet another gate in the distance. The Gates are a constant reminder that something wicked is this way coming. They scare the NCPs, as does the coming of Mehrunes; you hear talk about Oblivion, monsters coming from gates, friends lost at Kvatch; it feels ominous. NPCs are thankful if you closed a gate nearby and the decimated areas, ruined gates and gangs of hot spider-women (those legs, man) add a constant reminder that all is not good. I find myself pulled back to the main mission to see how far Martin has got in solving the puzzle.

Settled in, I realise Oblivion is an incredibly well-balanced game; You feel like you’re progressing, becoming a stronger character. The world is perfectly set out, you’re busy and at a loose-end, determined and lost in equal measure. People’s routines and habits are more life-like than Morrowind’s walking around in circles – they eat, sleep, have favourite spots and friends, go for walks, get into fights, you feel like the world is happening around you; It’s lacking the whimsical nature of Morrowind but instead feels grounded, real. You can still mix potions, sharpen weapons, generally live off-mission, but you feel like you’re neglecting things in Oblivion, rather than Morrowind’s ‘only if you want to’ attitude.

After some really top-notch missions to recover items and research, including a timed run through a Great Oblivion gate, the peoples of Cyrodiil create a statue in my honour – a statue! It’s a really nice touch after all my moaning about those Morrowind ingrates and I only realised because someone said I looked just like that statue. I went to check it out and there I am, in all my heroic glory. And all the crap I was carrying at the time. I look like a bag-lady. Damnit. The statue reflects your most powerful inventory items so if you’re particularly vain, dress for sculpturing not battle and leave everything else behind. I tried it a few times in just my underwear but never made it through. What an effigy that would have made.

Eventually, it’s up to me to clear a path for Martin while he claims his lineage and saves the day. Due to the relationship built between Martin and I (Grumpy-face aside), it doesn’t feel like a cheat to be the bridesmaid not the bride for the final battle – and what a bride I would have made, riding in on that Unicorn. It’s a scrambling, frantic fight to get Martin crowned and our focus is on banishing Mehrunes rather than killing him – we avoid a boss fight and it feels right; it’s never been about killing Mehrunes, only proving Martin is the rightful heir. I’m so involved it didn’t occur to me until after that Oblivion could have gone down a clichéd “He’s mortal in this world, kill him!” route and that really sets it apart, it’s a very brave move and pays off amazingly well.

Peace has been restored to Tamriel and what Martin and I have achieved feels real. Ironically though, Oblivion is a little empty after what we’ve accomplished. It’s undoubtedly involving, but after that main mission I can’t really find the will to carry on wandering; I’ve done enough. I take a tour around my houses, still don’t find Mehrunes’ Razor, get congratulated on saving the day and then call it a day. It’s time to pack up and travel north. I’m Skyrim-bound. I’ve always wanted to see a Dragon.

Check out Part Two of Previous Weapon’s Elder Scrolls special, as soon as FBT checks out of his backpacker hostel and stops posting photos of him and martin on Insta.