Brütal Legend is a game where yoü wander aroünd exploring a world torn straight from the cover of Dio's Holy Diver and pay homage to the Trüe Metal.Büt more on the game in a moment.
I have, in my possession, a jean jacket. It has an old-school Iron Maiden backpatch (poorly sewn in places, held on with safety pins, natch). The jacket provides me with a strange level of internal comfort and pleasüre. Not becaüse it's cool or rockin' or whatever (it is) - büt becaüse it says to me, "roots."
"This is my history."
I was a metalhead growing üp. My Roots gain noürishment from the dark potted soil that is Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Led Zeppelin, Ronnie James, and the Prince of Darkness himself, Ozzy. Smoking cigarettes and listening to Judas Priest, getting stoned and thrashing to Metallica, playing Dungeons and Dragons while listening to Slayer. Camping oüt all night for Mötley Crüe tickets.
We üsed to watch Headbanger's Ball jüst for the faint hope that they might play the video for The Last in Line. I decided to learn Latin jüst to translate the writing on the borders of Sacred Heart.
Did yoü know that the rünes on Ozzy's Speak of the Devil albüm are actüally written in the Dwarvish langüage from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings? I fückin' did. Me and my coüsin spent all night one day translating them. They talk shit aboüt Sabbath kicking Ozzy oüt of the band.So, I say to yoü, dear readers, that this game. . . I wish I had written it.
Brütal Legend (and we have to üse the ümlaüts) is a tribüte to everything that is fine and good aboüt the genre of Heavy Metal. Tim Shafer and Double Fine are sending a message: "We ünderstand yoü."
The game takes every goofy heavy metal fantasy that has ever appeared anywhere and türns it into reality. Smokey, apocalyptic landscapes? Check. Hot chicks in leather? Check. Giant fücking axes? Check. Melting people's faces off with güitar solos? Check. Driving aroünd in a soüped üp Deuce-Coupe listening to Diamond Head's original Am I Evil? Check.
It's so fücking cheesy büt that's what makes it so fücking wonderfül. I'm going to try to explain the in-jokes throügh the üse of hyperlinks.
What's to say aboüt the gameplay? Yoü play the part of Eddie Riggs, the world's greatest roadie (voiced by Jack Black, who for all he irritates me from time to time, knows the Trüe Metal).
Eddie can büild anything, repair anything. He has the Trüe Metal in his heart, büt he's stück working for a "nü-metal" boy-band and it's crüshing him.
Literally, it türns oüt, becaüse aboüt 1 minüte into the opening cüt-scene he gets killed by a falling beam from the stage. Büt it so happens that he has a magical belt bückle, and when blood reaches it, he is transported to, well, the Land of Dio.
There, we qüickly find Eddie embroiled in a power strüggle between the good, oppressed people of Trüe Metal. They are led by Lars Halford (who looks süspicioüsly like Robert Plant). Also in this motley crew are his sister, Lita, The Kill Master (voiced by Lemmy, natch), and a hot-badass chick named Ophelia.
Together, they fight against the evil glam rock army of General Lionwhyte (who is voiced by Judas Priest's Rob Halford).
Yoü have a variety of weapons, the most powerfül of which is Clementine, yoür magical güitar. With the right güitar solo, yoü can melt people's faces off, or sümmon creatüres to help yoü, or raise relics from the groünd.It's an "open world" büt picking üp missions is üsüally pretty linear. It's mostly "drive aroünd and fück shit üp" büt then from time to time there are elements of "real time strategy" and command. The first several missions are aboüt büilding an army of headbangers and metal chicks. Yoü'll control them, and yoü have additional abilities that yoü can üse with each "ünit type".
For example, go near a ünit of headbangers, and yoü can enter "Mosh Mode". They form üp aroünd yoü and jüst bang heads, which yoü can then üse to protect yoü and jüst walk throügh large groüps of goons, knocking them down.
To be honest, the game isn't aboüt the gameplay. It's got pretty müch yoür standard tropes foünd in sandbox games now (side missions, collectibles, üpgrades). They have a different paint scheme, one that was made from The Trüe Metal.
And that's what this game really is: it's a love letter to the Trüe Metal.
And those of üs who have heard the siren call of distorted drop d and felt something break forever inside. . . it's a love letter to üs, too.
- Music:Ozzy Osbourne - Bark at the Moon | Powered by Last.fm
First, access to the "outer" planes was cut off. Slowly but surely, other planes were locked away, until only the Purgatorio (a giant void filled with small "islands" of land) and Valhalla (the "earth" zone) remained. Then, elements of the void started eating up Valhalla. . .
Eventually, the main island in Valhalla was "moved" to the Purgatorio and Valahalla itself was shut off. At that point, the "memories" began appearing: shards and snippets of poetry, broadcast as global messages. These have served as my "bookend" for the game, and serve to connect one of its central themes back to itself.
Here is a log of the "memory shards", including my final speech to the players. They were broadcast in sets, over multiple days.
Set One:
There is a sudden flash of light from all around that blinds you momentarily. As your eyes return to normal, you momentarily see several unknown rune shapes.
Visions and memories, not your own, flood your mind.
There are the eyes of a woman, auburn-haired. Laughing. Her name is Molly.
Here are the cracked and peeling houses of the neighborhood where the you-who-is-not-you grew up.
Two small boys are chasing a dog through a field. One of them has a bb gun, and will shoot it in the side. The wound will get infected, and the dog will die.
The blonde woman buys ice cream for her son. His name is Clay. He has a liver disease. The sun is setting.
The sun rises behind the tower, spreading golden light across a field of yellow grass dotted with sleeping horses. The king is dead; you have failed.
You will hear the racous cries of the fishermen selling their wares one day; the whack-whack snicker-snack of knives gutting tuna and salmon.
The wails of the slaves, so viscous, a pathetic, liquid sound. Mayhaps you'll eat one soon.
You should speak to her. That girl. You know the one I mean. Tell her soon; the world is ending.
The symbols fade and the world rightens.
Set Two:
The true name of the Maker lies hidden between the muted rhythm of a heart beat and the liquid eeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhh-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
The dentist grimaces as she sands bits of dried epoxy from a patient's tooth. The teeth are stained - too much tobacco and coffee - and the filling doesn't match.
A handful of dirt splatters on the coffin. The mortuary gave out cards; one side has a picture of a saint, and the other side has the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. You fold it without thinking and put it in your pocket.
His name is Richard. You can smell his lust; it's a oily tang in the city air. He intends to sleep with the blonde stripper. He will fail. You order another drink and wait, the gun heavy in your pocket.
The prisoners sing spirituals as they work along the road. The pounding of rocks punctuates each verse. The noon sun gleams dully off the black steel of the guard's shotgun.
A young brunette woman leans out of an apartment building to watch a wedding processional in the street below. This moment is captured on a greasy stream of film. It will be one of the few photographs of her. She will die a few years later, the victim of a genocidal pogrom.
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
Your grandfather is teaching you how to twirl a gun. His enormous hands effortless spin an antique Colt while yours struggle with a cheap, tin pop-gun. You are four years old. He will soon die, and this will be your only memory of him.
Gently the child bobs in the water, bouyed by an air-filled vest. She smiles and gurgles as she learns to swim.
Every time a baby is born in the ward, the nurse presses a little button, and strains of Brahms are heard through the floor.
The tangy smell of cordite fills the air as the deranged assassin finds his mark. The musician dies, bleeding into the gutter. His widow cries over his body.
He is furiously stabbing at the tree where he had carved their initials together inside of a heart. Tears blind him, and he cuts his hand.
The cat is in pain. It does not know how to communicate this to its mother. Instead it sets down, glassy-eyed, barely moving.
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
Several thousand miles away, an unsung poet dies.
Set Three:
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
She touches his hand, accidentally, electrically. "I'm sorry," she says, but doesn't mean it, not really, he is so handsome. Her name is Hannah; his Francis. One day, in the future, she will bear him a son who will become a president.
You sit at the edge of the lake. Your fishing rod is a simple thing: just a stick with a nylon line tied the end and a bright orange bobber above the hook. Father has a *real* fishing rod, with a reel and everything. There is a metal bucket filled with small trout; he caught them. You will never be happier than this moment, being a son in the moment of your father, who loves you more than you can know. Eventually, you will drift apart, and then together.
He said, "We shouldn't tell anyone about this," as he touched her. She sighs.
I have to let you go. You are no longer mine.
Her name is Tatinana. She likes playing with her doll. Her father is important somehow but she doesn't quite understand. Someday, in the future, she will help to hold down a soldier while a surgeon violently removes a bullet from his chest.
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
She doesn't understand. The boy pushed her in the sand; she just wanted to go down the slide. Mother wipes away tears with a cheap tissue. There will be ice cream.
OHGOD OHGOD OHGOD DON'T FUCKING DIE ON ME YOU BITCH. ohfuck you're overdosing. don'tyoufuckingdieplease. Here, take some speed; maybe that will make you well until the ambulance comes.
Things have never been so swell.
The knives! The knives! Once, twice, five, twelve, twenty, they stab and stab. The pain, the pain - my cloak, my hands, the floor, they are painted crimson, this cannot be my blood. That cannot be my son...
I watch the fireflies swarm in the heat. They twist and dance among the eddies of the late summer night; I think of the girl I am crushing on and wish she could experience this with me.
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
He is a gentle boy. He loves creatures; he loves the world. Nervously, he tells his parents that he thinks he is gay. "You're no son of mine," father says. "I didn't raise no faggot." There are bruises the next day.
I read your fucking book. Did you hear me? I READ YOUR FUCKING BOOK.
The blood washes down, mixing with the dirt, collecting in the cracks of the soles of my shoes. "I'll have to scrub that out", I think.
She lifts the bowl of soup to her mouth. She thinks of a man she used to love. He boarded a ship one day and she never saw him again.
Thrum thrum thrum.
Thrum thrum thrum.
Set Four:
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
That girl, the one with dishwater hair, the one over there...
"Faggot! Faggot!" They scream this at me as they beat me but I'm not gay! I'm not! Stop! The gravel sticks into my skin, my skull lifted and pounded into it. Jesus, jesus, jesus, STOP.
Here sings the sun. It shines yellow upon the trees. They are golden in its light. I step across a broken branch and take her hand. Her touch is electric, like a jellyfish.
There is a burbling sound as he tries to breathe. Bubbles of blood collect around his mouth; ohgod it hurtssobad. The wrecked motorcycle lies five meters ahead; the car drives off.
"I want a divorce," she says. "I never really thought we had a future together." There is a flash of patience, then a flash of rage. There is a crunching sound as you punch the wall, bloodying your knuckles. "THEN WHY DID YOU FUCKING AGREE TO MARRY ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?" you scream. The wall will bear the mark for two years before it is cleaned.
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
The monitors sing. deet. deet. deet. deet. deeeeeeeeeeeet. My friend dies from cancer, unknown, alone, in a hospital in New York. His parents are informed of his illness when they are called upon to claim his corpse.
"I do this for her," he thinks. "She'll love me when it's done." Finger pulses on the trigger: once, twice, thrice, four times. Secret Service tackles him, but the hornets find their marks.
As he lays to rest, her cat settles on his chest and purrs. He is accepted. Once he sleeps, she will slink away, her purpose complete.
"I've seen you around," she says. "You're noticable. 'Hey, whose that rockin' dude, there?'" Stunned, no words, the event passes without notice.
This is your world. This is your life.
Live in it now or be a spectator forever.
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
Set Five:
Thrum thrum thrum. Thrum thrum thrum.
It is July 2nd, 1961. The voices say, "take the pills! Take the pills!" Do it, papa. Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it, do it. Best of all he loved the fall / The leaves yellow on the cottonwoods / Leaves floating on the trout stream / And above the hills / The high blue windless skies / Now he will be a part of them forever
Christ, she is so beautiful, and I'll never. . . I'll never be able to talk to her again.
"I want you to listen to this," she says. "I think you'll like it." It's a trip-hop drum-and-bass cd. He listens attentively because she is hot and he likes her. He tries not to think that the lyrics mean anything.
A small voice in the back of my skull says "no, stop" but I keep hitting him. He's down, done, drawn - I keep punching. Wet meat, broken bone, my knuckles. Someone grabs my shoulders, pulls me off him; he coughs blood. Someone says, "Cops are comin'". I wake up the next day with damaged hands and no memory of who he was.
"You know, I thought you were going to ask me if we could get another cat," she says. He had asked her to marry him. She said 'yes'.
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
"I didn't know it was like this," he said. "I had no idea, I was so scared." He kisses the other boy. "I'm so scared; I don't know what to do, everyone will hate me."
Click, click, click. The bullets go click, click, click as they are slotted into the magazine. Click, click, click. The Ambassador Hotel. He'll be there.
She coughs for the last time. A small amount of blood seeps into the tube. Her family sighs, collectively.
"You know. . . You know that I love you, right?"
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
Set Five:
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill and a time to heal, a time to weep and a time to laugh;A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to lose and a time to seek; A time to rend and a time to sew;
A time to keep silent and a time to speak; A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
My favorite quote is by an American author, John Steinbeck. "A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean question: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well - or ill?"
Do your best to do good things because the time when you must ask those questions comes all too soon.
I have enjoyed our time together.
Thank you.
Everyone likes playing these types of games; the challenge is usually getting a group of people together at the same time. However, this weekend, Maynard's kids are staying over, so we have a full band. And this afternoon, we played (and finished) it.
The game is fab-nominal and thoroughly enjoyable from shrink-wrap to disk ejection.
As far the gameplay goes, it's frickin' Rock Band. If you don't know how this works I can't help you. With the exception of vocal harmonics, the gameplay is exactly the same as that from previous versions.
But that's now why we play Beatles Rock Band. We play it because of John, Paul, George, and Ringo; because of the powerful history the band had; because of their journey; because of the music.
Given that Activision decided to include versions of Kurt Cobain and Johnny Cash in their next version of Guitar Hero, and seem to be doing so entirely devoid of respect or concern for those artists and what they represented, I was apprehensive about the treatment that Harmonix would apply to my favorite musical band.
I am exceptionally happy to say that the subject matter was handled with respect and reverence. Each song has it's own background video, and they are tailor made for the specific songs. There's a lot of fan-service involved in this. WARNING: it is entirely possible to fuck up your song because you accidentally pay too much attention to the backgound video.
We slotted the game and blew through the entire story mode in about three hours. I did vocals the entire way (being the only person in the group who can [or was willing] to sing).
There was an interesting thing that happened to us as a group as we progressed: everyone started out on medium difficulty (or easy, for our drummer), and then, as the song difficulties ramped up (got harder), we ended up increasing our own difficulties. By the time we were performing on the roof of Apple headquarters, Maynard (bass) and I (vocals) were playing on Expert, Cailean (guitar) on Hard, and Hailey (drums) on Medium.
(Just, you know, FYI: the game is rather. . . unforgiving . . . on expert vocals. I've been singing "Sgt. Pepper" in the car for 20 years now and yet I failed the intro almost instantly. Octopus' Garden? 100%. Taxman, which is perfectly in my range? Failed. So who knows.)
The end of the game (which is, of course, "The End") is handled in such a way that I got chills up and down my arms.
This game isn't a "party" game like Rock Band 1 or 2. Those games have a very broad appeal based on the breadth of their songlist. I'm not sure Beatles Rockband would hold up on that level - but it was a hell of a lot of fun.
- Music:Lost - The Variable | Powered by Last.fm
For my fellow friends working through it, please allow me to save you about three hours of frustration. All cut for spoilers.
( Are You Missing Joker Teeth? )
( Are You Missing the Last Lore Tablet )
( Other Random Tips )
- Music:Afghan Whigs - Dedicate It | Powered by Last.fm
Batman: Arkham Asylum is the best version of Metroid: Prime that you will play that includes the Goddamned Batman.Fer realz, dog.
Have you ever said to yourself, "Self, I sure do wish there was a third-person stealth game where I played the goddamned Batman, trapped on Arkham island, fighting all of the major baddies like Bane and the Scarecrow, where I could hang upside fucking down from the rafters, watching thugs and seeing their fear levels, only to swoop down on top of them, grab them, punch them in the nose, and leave them hanging, trussed up like a thuggy pig?"
If you ever asked that question, prepare for an orgasm, baby, because this game is the answer to your . . . needs.
I cannot begin to describe the visceral thrill that engaged my spine as I took out a room of ten thugs without any of them ever seeing me. You know that scene at the docks in Batman Begins where he takes out all the goons in darkness? One of them shouts, "Where are you?" and Batman just whispers, "here." Bam.
It's like that. YOU GET TO DO THESE THINGS.
But hey, say you're not so into the creepifying ninja type stuff. That's cool, too. You can just swoop into a crowd of goons and go to fucking town. You're the fucking Batman, right? So you can do this, and do it well. Combat is both absurdly simply and absurdly complex. If you do it right, it's a fluid, bone-crunching ballet of broken noses, busted ribs, and cape-swirl induced stuns. If you do it wrong, there's still a lot of bone-crunching.
As you progress in the game you get more . . . bad-ass (I was going to say "more lethal" but the Bat is never about killing). Your initial equipment load is "just" unlimited batarangs and the grapple gun (which, by the way, never gets old). As you progress, you'll unlock new abilities (throw multiple batarangs, better combos, armor, etc.) and abilities (grappleclaw, detonation gels).
These ability increases are where the "Metroid" bits come in: you'll see areas you can't quite get to. Yet. Once you have the grappleclaw, you'll back track to where you saw that grate up high on the wall and pop it open, which opens new areas to explore and be a predator in.
But all that shit seriously fucking pales in comparison to "Detective Mode". Detective mode is a switch, like one of Metroid's visors. Flip it on and all of a sudden your perceptions of the world change. You have better night vision, for one. But you know, that thug lurking in the darkness over there? Now you see him bright as day (though in a skeletal form). Further, you get a read out of his emotional state, whether or not he has a weapon, etc. Grates, doors, other special things start standing out.Previous Batman games had focused entirely on fighting, which, you know, makes sense given that Bruce is a fucking ninja. But the most important bit to Batman - the thing that makes him the Baddest Dude Walking - is the fact that he's the world's greatest detective. And that's hard to put into a game and make "fun." But Arkham Asylum pulls it off, and does it well.
For example, early in the game, you'll have to track down a guard. You cordon off a "Crime Scene" area and do some investigation. Eventually you find his hip flask, sample the booze, and then, using the bad-ass detective mode visor, can follow the scent of the whiskey in the air to find him.
And then there's a whole series of Riddler-based sidequests. These run from hidden-package collectibles to real "riddles". Find the solution, take a photo, bam, XP. Hunting down Riddler quests alone is half the fun for me.
The boss fights are hella good, too. I mean, like, fighting Bane is pretty typical (dodge his charges, jump on his back and fuck up his venom injectors, etc.) but he's kind of a super-strong thug. The Scarecrow boss fight is clever as all fuck. I haven't run into the Joker yet but I shiver in anticipation.
The voice acting is gold-star all the way. They got Kevin Conroy, Mark Hamill and Arleen Sorkin to reprise their roles from the old Batman: The Animated Series. Since each of them have played those characters longer than anyone else in history, they're kind of definitive. I love me some Heath Ledger, but Mark Hamill's Joker is a different breed, and Kevin Conroy is the best Batman.
(It also doesn't hurt that the story was written by Paul Dini, who masterminded the DC Animated Universe.)
What I hate: Nothing. This is one of the best games I've played in many moons. You will love it.
Plus: The Goddamned Batman.
- Music:AC/DC - What Do You Do for Money Honey | Powered by Last.fm
No heretics were burned. This evening's game was a bunch of talky-talky and character development. Well. As much character development as fascist zealots can have, I suppose.
The end result, however is this:
1) I have advanced to rank 6, and chose the Exorcist path.
2) I was promoted to Interrogator, and given my very own Rosette.
I predict. . . many deaths.
At some point this evening I told a frickin' unbound daemonhost that had been pestering us that he could take the deal he was offering, fold it up into sharp corners, and shove it up his ass (I rolled an 07 WP check, and that's what Victus would do). That was fun, but there will likely be consequences.
- Music:Alabama 3 - Woke Up This Morning | Powered by Last.fm
"Well" in that we ended up "winning"; "poorly" in that my dude, Father Victus, took something like 25 total wounds during the fight, about four criticals, and had to burn two fate points. He lost his left arm from just beneath the elbow.
Victus, despite being a Red Redeptionist, keeps stats about his exploits. There are tally marks on the character sheet for various things: "Dudes Killed," "Dudes Tortured," "Headshots," "Dudes Burned," etc. All of those went up a lot last night. I think I killed something like 25 people.
(Turns out that a flame-throwing weapon is exceptionally effective at killing masses of goons who are assaulting your position through a narrow cavern.)
Unfortunately, I had to add a new statistic - one that threatens Victus' position as a pure servant of the Emperor of Mankind: Inquisitors Killed.
Yeah. So, you know how we broke some guy out of an Inquisition prison? A prison we had the keys to? Well. It seems someone didn't get the paperwork and decided to hunt us down. A big, bad-ass witch hunter. And he attacked us in the middle of the fight.
So I put him down with a double tap bolter shot to the head.
Changing tack.
I've been thinking a lot about Dark Heresy as a "game". It's very strange, because even though the system is very basic and simple, the game world is some seriously advanced roleplaying. It is absolutely not a "beginner's" game. Go play Dungeons and Dragons for that. Hell, even Call of Cthulhu is an easier game to start with.
The reason is because, in the Warhammer 40k universe, in Dark Heresy, the Imperium of Man is effectively the Nazi party and the player characters are really the equivalent of the SS.
Think about it for a second. Fascist government, riddled with bureaucracy, ostensibly ruled by a hyper-charismatic figure? Check. Hyper-xenophobic foreign policy which encourages the wholesale genocide of any alien populations? Check. People being kidnapped in the middle of the night, put on secret transports, and sent to camps where they are likely to be killed? Check. Ingrained, government-sponsored racism? Check. Forced sterilization in non-compliant populaces? Check.
And the player characters themselves? Dude, we're the fucking bad guys. A secretive branch of the government whose authority oversteps everyone else's, able to commandeer whole legions, whose job it is to root out, "interrogate", and then ultimately execute dissenters?
Totally the bad guys in the story.
Which is why the game is absolutely an "advanced" game. We had a new player start last night, and we had a little chat about it. There are things that my character says and does that I do not and would never do. He fucking *tortures* people. A lot! He likes doing it, too; so much the better that he can do it with religious fervor.
I expect that if most people would be completely appalled if they just observed a game session as an outsider.
And yet, it's one of the most fun games I've ever played precisely because the morality of the situation is so foreign to my own.
Ironic.
Well, we're deep undercover and have been for several sessions.
Many moons ago, we busted apart a (smallish) gang of heretics who were selling a psychoactive drug made from the distilled brains of psychically sensitive citizens of the Empire. We kind of lost threads for the "master" part of that cult and let it go.
However, several months ago (game time) we came across new information, and have since set in motion a broad and intricate plan to identify and hook everyone involved in the production of this drug throughout about 12 planetary systems.
I'm fairly certain that the adventure, as written, meant for us to find out the bad guys on Plant A and then fight them and thus win. However, we decided that that wasn't good enough, so we started infiltrating the cult. We got jobs as drug smugglers for them so that we could find out who they were selling to on other planets. This turned out to be an exceptionally good idea.
The first planet we dealt with: they were chumps. We could have burnt them instantly. But then, in a happenstance, we ran across their number one competition, a group of tech-heretics trafficking in xenos (alien) technology and drugs. So we killed them. All of them - maybe thirty or forty in one building - and took over their organization. Then we told our contacts that those guys had been following us and we were pissed so we killed them and hey, here's all their business as a present.
Many other things have happened since then but we cemented our reputation as "hard core badasses" right then and there. And we were even able to spin a hunt for a major heretic as a "personal vendetta" so we have one cult looking for the leaders of another cult for us.
We have been going from planet to planet, making contacts, dropping shipment, taking names. Cataloging. Cross-referencing. Taking our time, being patient. The drugs are getting sold, and that's bad, but a handful of fancy-pants nobles getting screwed up on a heretical drug is small fry in the grand scheme of the Glory that is the Emperor's Will.
We keep getting tested by the cult. Small things, mostly, but one of our tasks was to break a heretic out of an Inquisition prison. Turns out, when you have a fucking Rosette, "breaking" someone out of a prison that you have the keys to is trivial. I bring different contacts small "gifts" of heretical technology that I requisition from the stores.
Sadly, we haven't been able to kill a lot of people. It's been politics, deception, and intrigue mostly. Soon, though - and very soon - I will close my fist, and the net will drop simultaneously on 15 worlds, and we'll scoop up hundreds of heretics like krill.
And then I will be allowed to indulge my psychosis. I will collect them in a big group and then I burn them all. In a stadium. And we'll sell tickets.
Oh, yeah. My crazy, psychotic priest? He's being considered for Interrogator. So I'll have a full rosette. Then: many deaths.
- Music:Heaven & Hell - Double The Pain | Powered by Last.fm
I think I suck at the Sims.
There's a lot that's confusing to me. This may be because I'm not a Sims expert, and really only played the first version in such a manner as to wall my children into small rooms and let them die (c.f., The Cask of Amontillado). I managed to play it for about five hours before kicking in the cheat codes: I wanted a better house.
And I got one! I spent about four hours building some crazy-town style version of the Winchester Mystery House. Multiple floors that shouldn't actually be viable according to the laws of physics. This was a lot of fun: my Sim (named "Evilla McBadass") has the craziest house in town. And that's cool.
The best part of the game is just allowing the Sims to do their own thing. At character creation, you define a bunch of traits and this says how they behave. I picked "genius", "evil", "flirty," "athletic," and something else I don't care about. There's an "Autonomy" scale in the options; set that to full. Watch what happens. Seriously: don't do shit. The Sim will do all sorts of crazy stuff.
For example, because Ms. McBadass is "evil", she wanders around town and knocks over trash cans. Since she's flirty, she picks up on everyone within visible distance. I went to go take a leak and discovered that a) not only was Evilla a lesbian, but that b) she'd chatted up another woman and c) they were making out.
A few hours later and they were gonna get married. Hooray, Sims 3 for being totally down with gay marriage.
(Of course, the first wedding party totally flopped and people didn't show up. I opted for a second, smaller party and that worked out okay. Then, as luck would have it, some other, unknown woman showed up and totally chatted up both brides, and they were both into it. So who knows. Maybe they're all gay Mormons.)
(Also, during the wedding party, one of the guests stole one of Evilla's guitars. /shake fist. If I find out who did that, there will be pain.)
Here's what I hate:
Man, shit. The time spent "sleeping" and "working" just fucking blows. The game seems to be about 4 minutes of interesting gameplay punctuated by 5 minute periods where I have to sleep and/or go to work. I would like to be able to spend more time "doing shit" rather than sleeping or working.
Maybe that will change now that my Sim is married and I have two of them to play with.
Holyfuck this game is brutal to my machine. Aside from how slow it is during play, my bad-ass laptop turns into liquid puke for fully 20 minutes after I quit the fucking game. This is not a baby computer, either.
It's stupidly addictive. I absolutely do not recommend it to normal humans for that reason alone.
Prototype is a sandbox game where you are a guy with superpowers in Manhattan Island. The game is about the following things:
1) Crazy, super-human parkour stuff. Like Crackdown only turned up to eleven
2) Searching NYC for about ten different kinds of collectibles
3) Butchering people and zombies with a bunch of crazy-ass powers
You earn and unlock new abilities and powers by spending "Evolution Points." You get those by killifying things, completing missions, and finding all the "landmark points" and "hints" and whatever else.
Your character is not a nice guy. One of your most important abilities is to grab people and absorb them. You then take on their appearance - shape-shifting. They are, of course, deadified in the process.
(There's a whole problem with conservation of mass in this little bit, too. You just absorb 180 pounds of human flesh and somehow don't get any larger? At this point, I've eaten maybe 200 people. I should be the size of King Kong by now.)
Maynard was watching me play it and he commented "dude, you're the bad guy here," and he's right. There's really no way you cannot be morally reprehensible in the game because in order to progress you have to absorb people. In theory, I suppose you could play through only absorbing soldiers, but they're still, you know, innocent dudes just doing a job.
But you won't do that, because absorbing people is how you get back health.
So, let's run down the numbers here: Regenerates? Check. Gains health by eating people? Check. Superhumanly fast? Check. Can jump really high? Check. Can climb walls? Check. Can glide far distances? Check. Can shape-shift? Check.
Okay, I get it. We're playing a vampire. Only I can run around in the day time.
There's supposedly a plot in the game but I honestly gave up caring about it after, oh, the first or second cut-scene. It's your standard cliche: you're the angsty, brooding super-human product of a top-secret military experiment who lost his memories and now wants revenge on the people who created him. Yadda yadda yadda.
Oh, yeah. The virus that infected him has gotten out in a different strain, and it's infecting the city, and turning everyone into zombies.
(I have decided to ignore the plot and focus on the idea that this is a sandbox game where I am a vampire in New York City.)
The game has many interesting ideas. They are mostly small touches, but they serve it well. These little ideas are stronger than the game's plot.
For example, inside "infected zones" sometimes you'll see a bunch of crows circling a water tower. If you get near it, the virus in your system (which you're constantly shedding) will trigger the virus in the water tower, and it will burst open and unleash a monster at you. The military has sensors that can detect your virus as it sheds, so after a while the city is filled with automated drones that can detect you, no matter who you look like.
There is a neat gimmick (and on of the collectibles) where you "absorb" of certain people, and that unlocks parts of this "memory web". The more bits you unlock, the more you learn about the backstory: you're feeding on the memories of the soldiers and scientists who were involved in the experiment. Finding these people to absorb is one of the game's collectible sub-games.
The map is good bordering on excellent. It's not as vibrant and detailed as Liberty City, but it's definitely not a "cut and paste" version of Manhattan. That's where the game's strength lies: exploring New York City with super powers. The developers managed to get a lot of characters in the screen at all times. I'm pretty sure they did this by cutting down on the polygons used per person (no one has flowing hair, for instance).
My biggest beef with the game, other than the plot, is the fact that the main character dresses like a douchebag, wearing a popped collar underneath a hoodie that is never taken off his head. He's like Altair only less charismatic.
Off the top of my head, I can name several other games that do the "superhero exploring a city" schtick (Crackdown, Infamous, Spider-Man 2, Spider-Man 3, Superman Returns, Hulk: Ultimate Destruction). I expect that there will soon be more (which I'm cool with; they're fun). The game has so far helped to pass the time until the release of Crackdown 2.
Anyways. I don't know if it's worth 60 bones, so rent it first and decide for yourself.
Which is good, because they had it coming after reaching victory conditions in the previous two games.
The story takes place in the year 1916. I'm going to write this from an "omniscient" perspective because it will make more sense, but know that only three people ever had any idea what was really going on. We played fast and loose with "real" elements of history; some events were moved around in the timeline of reality.
( What happened, Cut for Space )
Here is a summary of the characters, who played them, some notes on their secrets, and their final fate.
( Cut for Brevity )
All in all an enjoyable evening. There was a lot more to the story I could have done - extended it out in all directions - but it worked okay as a one-shot.
This story is actually pretty damned awesome, if I do say so myself.
It is January of 1916, near the end of World War I. Our story takes place within the first class cars of a trans-Siberian train, bound for Saint Petersburg from Zurich. Traveling together is a motley crew comprised of nobility, wealth, and celebrity - each with their own motivations and secrets, and most carrying false passports.
What happens as they travel through war-torn mountains in the dead of winter, cloaked in dreadful opulence? Who can tell?
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna Romanova, 19 Years Old, Russian
Czarina, Student, Russian Nobility
A young, doomed princess of Russia, returning home to her family with an urgent message.
Margaretta Eagar, 53 Years Old, Irish1
Governess and Chaperone to the Grand Duchess, Trained Medical Nurse
A doting and intelligent surrogate mother.
Anatoly Zinoviev, 26 Years Old, Russian6
Bodyguard to the Grand Duchess
An attentive, capable, peasant soldier
Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle, 57 Years Old, Scots2
Novelist and Short Story Author, Doctor of Medicine
- A mournful author, traveling to meet the noted "Mad Monk", Grigori Rasputin, in the hopes that Rasputin will be able to allow him to contact his dead wife.
Ehrich Weiss, known popularly as Harry Houdini, 41 Years Old, Hungarian-American2
Illusionist, Escapologist, Skeptic
A noted showman, traveling with his friend, Sir Arthur, hoping to prove Rasputin to be a fraud.
Amelia Mary Earhart, 26 Years Old, American3
Aviation Pioneer
A young aviator and adventuress, slightly star-struck, and traveling with Doyle and Houdini "just for the hell of it."
Ludwig Wittgenstein, 27 Years Old, Austrian4
Philosopher, Inheritor
A broody, melancholic man, and one of the wealthiest men in all of Europe, traveling alone in an attempt to clear his mind in order to work on the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.
Messr. Alfred Escher, 46 Years Old, Swiss5
Banking and Railroad Magnate, Lawyer
An absurdly wealthy entrepreneur, founder of Credit Suisse, traveling to meet with Czar Nicholas to discuss extending a line of credit to the nation.
Messr. Heinrich Goddart, 55 Years Old, Swiss6
Lawyer and Facilitator for Messr. Escher
A well-dressed, extremely intelligent and capable individual, traveling with Messr. Escher, having been in his employ for almost 20 years.
Helmut Thorrssen, 34 Years Old, Swiss-Norwegian6
Bodyguard for Messr. Escher
A hulking brute of a man whose appearance belies his intelligence.
* Some Notes about Historical Accuracy:
1. In actuality, Margaretta Eager was dismissed from the Romanova household in 1904. However, it fits the story that the Duchess be acccompanied by a chaparone, and since Margaretta was her real governess, we're going to use her.
2. Doyle and Houdini actually were good friends. You cannot imagine how awesome this synchronicity worked, since we had decided we needed "a magician" and a "mystery novelist" before even seeking out people.
3. We've moved Amelia Earhart's date of birth back by 10 years because she's just an awesome character and fits the story perfectly. In reality, she was graduating high school in 1916. But she was an adventurer, and, let's be honest, she's eventually going to discover R'lyeh and disappear there.
4. Ludwig Wittgenstein was serving as a howizter engineer on the Russian front as part of the Austro-Hungarian army (where he won bravery medals). However, his personality and what he is famous for, as well as his great wealth, makes him a perfect character candidate. So we're going to rewrite his history a bit.
5. Alfred Escher, who founded Credit Suisse, actually died in 1882. But we need a famous, powerful banker, so we move him forward in time.
6. The two bodyguards and Heinrich are not real individuals, but they are important because they (or others like them) would be there. They may be relegated to NPC status if more interesting "celebrity" types are included (currently in the running: F.A. Mitchell-Hedges [explorer, and the man who claims to have found the Crystal Skull], Bertrand Russell, Pablo Picasso, and
Within recent weeks, I kind of re-specc'ed Brother Victus (who is now Father Victus, bitches) to be more of an investigative, authoritative kind of guy. I moved away from the hyper-religious and vocal firebrand and more into a subversive "hunter" package. Further, based on his background, I rebuilt his personality: he is from Gunmetal City, which is kind of like "Deadwood". So think "Al Swearengen as a Priest" and you've got the idea.
The person playing our ostensible "leader" moved back east and is now MIA. Which leaves our party in the following configuration:
A Psyker, never trusted (Maynard)
Two Killers (both assassins, KBK and Jeremy)
A Dude Who Is Basically A Tax Collector (Golden)
Myself, the only person with a Fellowship score to command people.
Since my character's "package" is based around communication, deception, and command, it so happens that I am now the most qualified to lead. In fact, if any other players accept that I am the leader, they get all sorts of crazy bonuses (for those in the know: Command, Air of Authority, Iron Discipline).
So, hey. The crazy dude who wants to burn everyone? I'm in charge, bitches.
Dudes Tortured/Interrogated: += 1 (My base interrogate skill is sick. It's like 85 or so.)
Orks and Gretchin Cleansed and Purified by Fire: 23 (Flame weapons + Cleanse and Purify + Room full of Orks and Gretchin and No Exits)
Our crew is trapped on a space ship with a bunch of Orks. The Orks are fighting each other. My character's opinion is that this is not our job to investigate. Fuck this; we're Ordo Hereticus, not Ordo Xenos. I want to find mutants and heresy; not aliens. This is a kill-job; we're being sent on this mission in order to get killed.
Also, I was gifted a holy, ancient crossbow. It has a name, and a history, and was made with wood from Terra. Eat that, bitches. I'm now a Cleric.
This week's adventure was mostly about investigation and putting the pieces together - specifically, investigating the Space Marine who brought them the mission in the first place.
The first did a DNA analysis on the "dog boy" they had killed and determined that it was a conglomerate of 12 different gene-sets, one of which was a perfect match for a child of one of the noble families, the Mik'lau, that had gone missing some 12 years prior. They then set out to investigate the family, which was, coincidentally (or not) based on their current planet.
This particular noble house gained much of its wealth through the ownership and management of several "death worlds" - harsh planets, needed for some sort of resource.
Due to some incredibly good rolls, our inquisitors managed to discover something about both Space Marines. Namely, that they are biological "cousins." They both came from the same gene-stock. The gene-stock of the Mik'lau family. They both came from different worlds, but the Space Marines take recruits from nearly all Death Worlds.
Further, they discovered that the world that Markus (the Apothecary and supposed "good guy") hailed from had been lost to Chaos some 5 years back. Specifically, to Tzeentch, the God of Change.
At this point, they opened a case on Markus and made him their primary target of investigation. But one does not just accuse a Space Marine of heresy. So they went to go visit the Mik'lau household, under the auspices of doing a large tax audit.
After some hullabaloo about authority and getting past the gates, they were met by the house seneschal, a very tall, gangly man dressed in flowing robes. I had him speak in a weird sing-song voice, something that the players hated. They immediately wanted to burn him.
He escorted them in the house along with five floating servitors, all the while explaining that they could not possibly see the master of the house because he was currently undergoing a biological rejuvenation process, and was sleeping inside an induced coma.
After more and more pressure about seeing him - even to verify that he existed, the seneschal turned on them. The back of his robes split open and twelve barbed, iridescent, and segmented "arms" came out of his back. And they had a combat with a Tzeentchian mutant and five servitor droids.
This went about as expected with two hitches: the mutant had an incredibly high willpower, and thus was effectively immune to the psyker's attacks, and his arms were able to cast some sort of hypnotic spell on the characters. This almost went. . . incredibly poor for the players, as the gun assassin got whammied by it at first.
Anyways. They got him down with a shocksword and then cut his head off. A bunch of dusty spiders came out of the neck and scurried off.
They decided to call in the Inquisitorial storm troopers at this point, which is where we left off.
Next: A dungeon crawl filled with mutants!
When we last left our Inquisitors, they had failed to chase a renegade Space Marine (dedicated to Nurgle), and his companion/slave creature - some sort of mutant who looked like a large dog with too many joints. The Marine had stolen about 60 Gene Seeds, a hyper-valuable commodity (the things that make Space Marines go).
They were tasked with recovering the gene seeds by Markus, an Apothecary of the Space Marine chapter the traitor hailed from. Markus was. . . significantly injured.
In the process of this chase, about 100,000 civilians were killed after the Chaos Marine let loose a plague and the area was firebombed from orbit.
Last week's session was spent persuing various levels of investigation. The players went about trying to locate possible Nurgle cults. They believed, also, that the Nurglites were planning to implant the gene-seeds, which would require access to a well-equipped lab.
After some really good investigation rolls, they had multiple "close encounters" with the cultists, all of which ended. . . poorly. As in, they made contact, and set up an ambush, but the ambush was seen, and the bad guys made off. And then purged their warren.
However, it was during the forensic evaluation of the purged warren that they made thier first big break: they discovered the dog boy creature spying on the forensic investigation, wearing a chameleon cloak.
So they killed it. Mostly by accident (KBK's character being very vicious with a sword). They then discovered three things:
1) This was not the same "dog boy" they had seen. It was smaller, less mature.
2) It wasn't actually any sort of "living" creature that we normally think of as being "alive". The dog boys are closer to being . . . servitor. . . creatures, and it was pretty much a large, dog-shaped disease.
3) It was also some sort of incubator. Inside of the dog boy's chest there was a small, growing fetus. . . like. . . thing. With a full beard that was all matted and gross from the disease-gore.
That's when they realized that the dog boys were incubators for the gene-seeds: the fetus-thing was actually a growing Space Marine clone. And that there wasn't going to be a lab to be found, because the dogboys were the lab.
Good times.
Also, they're now about 90% certain that the first Space Marine, Markus, is also a traitor.
The answer to that question, however, remains in the future.
First, these are the characters that were actually selected and played. We designed a ton of extras, and about five people didn't show up at all. Some notes about what happened to them are included in italics.
( The Characters Played )
These are then the characters who weren't played. I've included a couple little notes about what *might* have been (in italics).
( The Character's Unplayed )
The Inquisitor was a big deal, so he had all this back story that needed to be put into the game.
He was killed by the fly swarm after he failed to cut off Mrs. Taft's hand.
( The Inquisitor's Secrets )
The players achieved a Victory Condition. This is the second time in a row. I am cross about this. One day I shall achieve total party kill.
There were a metric shit ton of people at this game, including an extra two game masters (total three: myself, Maynard, and Louis).
Tonight's theme was "Love Boat meets Left 4 Dead meets Prince of Darkness". And that, more or less, was exactly what went on. They were on a cruise, everything was fine, Holy Fuck There Are Zombies, and the Gates of Hell are Opening.
Our backstory, which is so very important:
The game takes place in the year 1977. In the year 1970, an enterprising thief broke into the Vatican vaults and stole several valuable artifacts, one of which was called the "Dito di Mosche", or "Finger of Flies".
The Catholic Inquisition (actually one of the PCs) managed to get many of them back. He tracked the Finger to Sao Paulo, where he found the guy who had it - and, of course, he had sold it 2 days prior to a "wealthy American businessman". The next night, something horrible happened, and a cloud of flies descended upon Sao Paulo and an entire barrio of people were killed.
Our inquisitor (a player character, Aaron) has a magical dagger - the Dagger of St. Paul, which has built into its hilt a finger bone of St. Paul. This dagger is supposedly the weapon that cut the "Finger" from the hand of demon. It has a deep connection to the Finger, and can locate it. And it did! On a cruise ship, sailing away.
What happened with the Finger, you ask? Who bought it? Why, that would be a man by the name of William Howard Taft IV, grandson of the former president. Why did he buy it? Because he had read that it could bring people back to life.
And his wife had died of malaria two weeks ago.
Both Taft and his wife are player characters. Leslie, the woman who played Taft's wife, was unaware that she had died, nor was she aware that her real finger had been cut off and replaced with the severed finger of Beelzebub, demon Lord of the Flies.
The Tafts boarded the ship and then, well, wouldn't you have it, but Mrs. Taft sort of. . . exudes flies. And these flies go and lay maggots in people. And those maggots turn people into zombies. And not just normal zombies. Zombies that are filled with flies and maggots, and are more than willing to vomit the maggots onto you, or explode near you, showering you with maggots.
I can't really say that there is a cohesive narrative I can express about what happened. Because, frankly, the entire evening went down pretty much like you'd expect the events of a cruise ship that found itself infested with zombies would: Pure Fucking Chaos.
I had players shooting each other. Not just a couple times, either! Several times! No one trusted anyone.
The zombies started getting . . . smarter. And by "smarter" I mean, "became vessels for demons as the walls between earth and hell grew thinner". But they couldn't approach the players so easily because, well, Mrs. Taft's demonfinger kept them at bay.
The captain of the Love Boat, played by James, was killed by a demon who vomited acid on him. It was glorious: he put his hands to his face as the acid rained down and when he removed them his face went with his fingers.
In the end, Mrs. Taft realized what was going on and cut off the Flie Finger, which closed the gate and killed the zombies (and herself). There were four total player character deaths: Leslie (Mrs. Taft), James (Capt. Stubing), Kbk (A politician), and Aaron (the Inquisitor).
I learned a lot about gaming with large groups tonight. There were over 15 players. It was a crazy amount. I'll be better equipped to handle that many next time.
Also: I made chili; it was awesome.
Also: Kbk and Fifi put together the most awesome "buffet table" spread, ever. I wish I'd gotten a photo of it.
It had fucking *ice sculptures*.
The current adventure, which I am running.
I have never run a Warhammer 40k adventure before, so this is a bit of an experience for me - though I think I figured it out well enough because the players are peeing in their britches well enough and there have been over 100,000 civilian deaths within three hours of game time.
The basic plot:
The Space Wolves, a chapter of w40k Space Marines, have been fighting Hive Fleet Kraken, a spear of Tyranids. This is bad. That chapter gets their asses handed to them. This is also bad.
An Apothecary of the chapter, Markus, collects the glands (uh, super-genetic material that dates to the Emperor and makes the Space Marines superhuman) from the fallen marines - about 50 or so. He is then betrayed by Sgt. Jeremiah, who has fallen to Nurgle, the Chaos God of Disease. Jeremiah totally fucks up Markus and steals the Holy Box of glands and takes off.
Markus follows. A space battle ensues. The two shoot each other down onto the back-ass planet the players are on.
They talk to Markus, who has lost an arm and a leg and half his head in the combat. He says "get the glands before they fall into enemy hands". So they head off to the other crash site. They do some investigation and determine that the survivors are: a) a large (8.5 feet tall) dude with yellow eyes (Jeremiah, Sgt. Adeptus Astartes) and b) Some sort of half-man, half-dog boy.
The two bad guys escape the area, killing some people and stealing a vehicle. Jeremiah, being a servant of Nurgle, is leaving disease in his wake. So they call down the fire, and 100,000+ people in the immediate area are killed by fire bombs.
The best they can do after that is see the villains in a spraypainted security camera. Session over; bad guys escaped.
So they have what amounts to a Chaos Space Marine dedicated to Nurgle and his servant on the loose.
And one of the players has come to the conclusion that the reason that Jeremiah came here is because there is a series of Nurgle clones ready for gland implantation.
Fun fun fun.
(For real this time - the Escapist reported him prematurely dead yesterday.)
Dave invented Hit Points and Armor Class, and could be credited with the first ever "dungeon crawl". He was a game design legend, and while most of his developments have been superseded by modern gaming standards, that makes his contributions no less important.
I'm gonna roll 20s for you, Dave.
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