Monthly Archives: June 2007

We sail through endless skies

So, my previous post might have seemed like a mere light hearted skit, spoof or humorous vignette, but actually it’s a deep treatise that works on two levels. *At least* two levels. Probably three or four. Maybe ten. Ahh!

It’s a parable, see, like the Vineyard Owner, only in this case illustrating that us bloggers may opine away and come up with all sorts of amazing ideas that we’re convinced will transform the entire MMOG genre, but would actually be pretty tedious in practise. Ahh! OK, that’s hardly a revelation, but still. Always worth bearing in mind.

The third level it works at (“Ahh!”, “No, not ‘ahh‘, stop saying ‘ahh“) is that there *might* be the nub of a not-entirely-insane idea somewhere in there for some sort of player-based transportation system. EVE is the main inspiration (“inspiration” in the sense of “it already does exactly that so I’m just ripping the idea off them really”); unless I’m more vastly mistaken than a man who thinks Hillaire Belloc is still alive, it doesn’t have a “mailbox”. You’re a miner, digging away, extracting ore from asteroids, and you want to take that ore to your corporation’s manufacturing base so they can turn it into ships and guns and socks and sugar n’ stuff… no popping it in the post, you have to physically take it there. Out in high security space that might be easy enough, set the autopilot and put your feet up for a while, but in the wild and lawless regions of 0.0, your big ol‘ freighter is a sitting duck. You’ll want a convoy, with escorts, and there’s wolfpacks out there… (Note: I’m extrapolating here from a brief dalliance with EVE’s free trial and watching Das Boot and The Cruel Sea several times, it might be nothing like that). It’s not a great leap to a fantasy setting; player characters getting hired to work as caravan guards is a good old staple of the genre. Course, you couldn’t just tack transport of raw materials straight on to an existing game, or you’d just add extra tedium and difficulty in an area that already needs some improvement, but if you could somehow work it in to an overhaul of that…

And if it’s a really stupid idea, then obviously I don’t mean it literally. It’s a metaphor. Ahhhhhhhh!

It is a great art to saunter.

David: “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen and welcome back to our coverage of the fourth international MMO Olympics. You join us here for the final of the Men’s 100m Freestyle Saunter. I have to say the qualification event has seen some fierce competition, and it’s a very exciting line up here of some of the great all-time MMO meanderers. Viewers out there will probably notice that there are only seven of the eight finalists present; unfortunately the Everquest entrant was disqualified after it was found that he was in fact being played by a power-strolling service.”

Gordon: “I’m really looking forward to this, David. There are some top class professional amblers here. It takes real dedication to walk anywhere in the world of MMOs, and these are the cream. They really are at the height of ‘walking calmly and slowly’ to a destination. They’ve obviously been training hard for the event, I heard that the Vanguard player actually walked the entire length of a FedEx mission. Now that’s hardcore.”

David: “We’re not allowed to call them hardcore, Gordon. They’re Temporally Advantaged, in today’s society.”

Gordon: “Well I don’t know anything about that. I have to say though, I’m also looking forward to the 4x100m Pick-Up-Group Relay later on this afternoon.”

David: “Indeed it should be quite a spectacle, and the question on everyone’s lips this year, as it is every year: will any group actually organise themselves quickly enough to get across the starting line?”

David: “Back to the current event though, they’re approaching the starting line. And… they’re off! Oh dear, a false start has been called.”

Gordon: “I’m not sure what that was about, David, but it looks as though the Warcraft Hunter entry has been disqualified. Let’s see what the video replay shows.”

David: “Here’s the start and… ah there we are, quite clearly just as the event starts the Hunter jumps in the air three, no, four times whilst spinning around 360 degrees in varying directions.”

Gordon: “The crowd doesn’t like it, David. Clear abuse of the laws of Newtonian physics and common decency, there.”

David: “It’s sad to see in this day and age of professional perambulatory jousting such a blatant disregard for Newton. Still, the remaining athletes having retaken their positions, and are under starter’s orders.”

David: “And they’re off! It’s a casual start by all, with the EVE player taking an early trail; they’re looking really very relaxed indeed.”

Gordon: “Yes, it’s a powerfully slow start by the EVE player, they’re looking in great condition. I’m sure the confusion caused by suddenly having legs and being able to walk is definitely an advantage in maintaining a lackadaisical mosey.”

MMO Olympics. MMOO! I bet there are plenty of events for that one. I think I’d have to make the No Jump an event, where excitable players are fed caffeine-loaded beverages for an hour and then have to run their character up to a sand pit and not jump into it. Nor must they jump on the run up. Or on the way to the start of the run up. Or at the opening ceremony parade.

Or in their chairs at the PC. Even if they do need the toilet badly.

Running everywhere as a character in most MMOs is one of those things that we just accept as being a fundamental, unavoidable nature of the game. And we accept this because, in an ideal world, MMOs are first and foremost games. Entertainment. A bit of light relief from the drudgery of the day-to-day grind. A happy way to spend time, without bullies, cliques and social drama oppressing you. A way to escape from the irritating loons in life, who run down the street jumping every fourth step and spinning three hundred and sixty degrees improbably fast and really annoying the hell out of Newton…

Wait. I think I got a bit confused there.

I’ll come in again. MMOs are supposed to be games, and they can be, if taken at a casual level (we’re not allowed to call them casual, they’re Addictionally Challenged in today’s society – Ed.).

Did anyone just see an editor? Must be me. There’d better not be, I just had the house fumigated. “Editors coming in and editorialising your posts, eh mate? Yeah, they’re prone to do that, it’s in their nature you see. Don’t worry, a quick blast of this and we’ll have ‘em out. As an added bonus it’ll also get rid of any film critics in your wall cavities”.

Anyway.

There are those who don’t want to run everywhere: the stalwart RP crowd can be seen nobly and serenely wafting along; looking down on the hustle and bustle that goes on around them, as the piteous hoi polloi dash to and fro, getting things done. They calmly walk along. Making progress. Ever so slowly. Step follows rhythmic step. Until the moment that. They disappear. Behind. A. Wall. And then…

GO! GO! GO! Holy hindered speed, Snailman! Walking is so bloody slow! I’ve been online for an hour and I’ve only just made it to this wall, and I started right next to it! OUT OF MY WAY, I HAVE STUFF TO DO AND I’VE WASTED HALF THE EVENING WALKING. Oh crap, more people! Sod it. Yes, yes, I’m a role-player and I’m running. I’m role-playing someone needing to get something done in-game this evening before my wife wanders over and kicks me off the computer.

So yeah, you visit Lord of the Rings Online and travel to the town of Bree and everyone is running around like nutters! It’s like the Martians have invaded. Except it’s Lord of the Rings, so they don’t have Martians. But they have marshes… Marshians. That’ll do. And so you’ve got this fantastic contrast, with all these NPCs standing absolutely still, and all these Player Characters barrelling around like freight trains. Maybe that’s why NPCs stand so still: they’re all trying to move, it’s just that they take a step forward and vroom they’re nearly mown down by a Player Character. So they jump back in shock, gather themselves and then tentatively take a step forward vroooooom, neeeowww, zooooootfrooooot, as a stream of Player Characters hurtles past.

Ok, they don’t do the last one, that isn’t a speedy noise. I just ran out of speedy noises.

And what would it be like if they implemented collision detection in an MMO? MMO developers, make use of all those shiny Ageia PhysX cards and have character collisions with Newtonian reactions! It would be like the Keystone Cops. On fast forward. After you’ve smoked a lot of special herbs.

There’s no getting around it, if you’re not a Super Hero with amazing travel powers like Metro Man and his all-day travel card, or you’re just stuck in a vehicle most of the time like the Auto Assault and EVE players, running around non-stop with no penalty whilst carrying half the world on your back is just another one of those vastly weird but quintessential MMO quirks.

The post office has been stolen and the mailbox is locked

Melmoth’s Standing Procedure, and Elf’s comment on adding more realism to NPCs, got me thinking. Mailboxes are a bit small, aren’t they? The ones dotted around Ironforge and Bree? Sure, you could fit a small package in there, with a ring or amulet in it, but a giant two-handed sword? No way. Unless perhaps the blade has some sort of ingenious telescoping mechanism. Or it’s in kit form. Maybe with a magazine, you know, “NEW! Build Your Own Two Handed Sword Magazine! Free pommel and hilt with Issue 1! Each week you get fascinating two handed sword articles, like ‘bits of your enemy you should try and poke with your two handed sword’, ‘celebrity two handed sword wielders’ and ‘other fun things to do with a two handed sword (part 1: roasting a lot of really big marshmallows)’, and the included blade segments slot together to form a handsome Zweihänder with the complete collection. Order now!”

Anyway, clearly tiny mailboxes are an unrealistic way of sending and receiving large, bulky objects. What you need is a courier service. If only there was some sort of precedent… So I’ve come up with a new and revolutionary idea: when you sell a large item at auction, you receive a quest to deliver that item to the buyer. Imagine the larks! You could have a little cap and tabard, and the address you’d have would be the buyer’s hearthstone inn, so you’d toddle along there, and they’d probably be out questing, so you’d have to write out one of those little “Sorry! We tried to deliver this parcel, but you weren’t in” cards, and then the buyer would contact you and quote the reference number, and you’d arrange another delivery, only you wouldn’t be able to specify morning or afternoon, and then you’d get lost on the way, or stuck in heavy raid-traffic…

If this idea took off, I reckon you could even expand it. After all, it would be a shame to only be able to perform such exciting tasks after selling certain items at auction, so certain NPCs could have objects too bulky, or perhaps too valuable, to send by mail, that they could ask you to deliver instead. It’s a sure fire winner, the players are going to love it!

The cabaret was quiet except for the drillin’ in the wall

Yet another quiet weekend, gaming-wise. I’m beginning to spot a trend here… Friday, I finished off running my Guild Wars Assassin from the Factions campaign back to the beginning of the Prophecies campaign, so I’m ready for our posse to make a start on that. I can’t actually pick up quests myself at the moment, but hopefully there won’t be a problem tagging along with the others on theirs, giving them a chance to catch up with all the XP I unavoidably picked up on my wildlife-slaughtering journey.

Saturday and Sunday were Double XP Weekend in City of Heroes, but I didn’t get too much of a chance to play. Made a few levels on the recently rolled Scrapper, but much time was taken up with quiz nights, cinema visits, and hooking up a DVD recorder (side note: I’d like to thank the genius who designed our TV cabinet for putting great big slabs of wood in randomly stupid places, so that in order to connect two things on adjacent shelves you have to run cables out one side, round somewhere else, over another bit, then back in the other side. Really appreciate that. I didn’t swear at all in trying to get everything hooked up without going and buying three metre cables or drilling holes in something. Well, not much. Maybe once or twice. Every sentence. And they were quite short sentences.)

Out of control

In my continued flitting from MMO to MMO like a magpie distracted by shiny objects, I dug out Guild Wars again this week. I picked it up a while back, sometime in 2005 between a first stint in WoW and City of Villains, but didn’t play it too much back then. Apart from anything else, it had the worst capes *ever*. For the most part, the graphics were beautiful; the character models were great, not a huge range of customisation choices but some interesting armour, particularly the Mesmer’s dandy highwayman (who you’re too scared to mention) look. And then you hooked up with a guild, and got… a commemorative tea towel. Which the guildmaster sellotaped to your back, and wouldn’t let you take off. You were stuck with this stupid tea towel; a realistically modelled, flapping-in-the-breeze tea towel (as opposed to the much-easier-to-model cloak-shaped bits of cardboard used in a lot of other games), but a tea towel nonetheless.

Anyway! You can turn off cape display these days, so that’s the most important thing sorted out. OK, maybe not quite the *most* important, but you know me and my character customisation obsession. I decided to roll up a new character, and after deciding support classes aren’t for me, thought I’d get back to my DPS-ways. The Assassin class introduced in the Factions campaign, looked rather fun, so a swift visit to the online store added that to my account (I’m a sucker for the instant gratification of direct download online purchases). I’m planning to head back as soon as possible to meet up with a couple of friends in post-Searing Ascalon and play through the original Prophecies campaign, which might be a disastrously foolish plan. I’m turning down all side-quests to get to the point that I can sail back over to Tyria as soon as possible, which I think is leaving me rather under-levelled for the unavoidable story missions on the way there but still higher level than a post-Searing Prophecies character, but hey, we’ll see how it goes.

Combat in Guild Wars is a pretty frenetic business, especially with your posse of AI henchmen. In World of Warcraft or City of Heroes, I’m totally in control, I know exactly what I’m doing, who I’m targeting, what powers I’m using (well, mostly. I mean there’s the whole “which button is sap again?” business that makes the whole party roar with laughter, second only to my other party piece of sneaking around forgetting the minor point that I’m not in stealth… and then there’s jumping into the middle of a pile of mobs, hitting the button for a devastating PBAoE inferno, and only then realising it hasn’t recharged… but y’know, apart from that). Guild Wars so far is more… “AAAAHHH! MOBS! Press buttons! Activate powers! What did I just do? Shadow what? With a what? No target? Oh, he’s dead… but… where’s the other one? No, that’s my henchman… Him! Hit him! Hit him with a stick! Hit him with a bucket! Ruffle his hair up, they hate that. AAAAAHHH!”

I’m not quite sure if it’s me, or the game (or a bit of both). I’ve played WoW and CoH far more than anything else, and was probably randomly mashing buttons just as much in those when I started out. Like fighting games; you’re flailing around mushing whatever buttons come to hand, and someone says “look, you just block the punch like that, and then counter like this, and then left-left-down-kick-jump-punch activates Super Robert Smith Punch”, and you go “huh?” and try and push every button on the controller at the same time using the palm of one hand while frantically rotating the analogue stick at high speed with the other. After a while, though, things fall into place; I could probably still pull off most of the scrap and destruction attacks of a Jaguar from One Must Fall: 2097 (Up up down down punch! Best PC fighting game ever… Well, the only PC fighting game, really. At least, the only one that wasn’t rubbish, and was shareware back when I couldn’t afford that many games…) If I can stick with Guild Wars for more than ten minutes without getting distracted by a beta for another game, or Pirates of the Burning Seas, or a gleaming bottle top or bit of silver foil, I’m sure things will click there. I sincerely hope so, at least, for my prospective comrades’ sakes, otherwise it could be a long campaign… “Run, Charlie, run! Hit him with a broom, Kev, hit him with a broom!”

It’s standing procedure.

Harold: “Morning.”

Samantha: “Morning!”

Harold: “You’re new here aren’t you?”

Samantha: “Yup, just added with the latest patch.”

Harold: “Oh! Well, welcome to town, it’s always nice to see fresh faces.”

Samantha: “Thanks! I must say, I’m all fired-up and ready, I’ve been on the NPC orientation day, got my Quest Givers pack right here. So what’re you up to today?”

Harold: “Weeeelll, I thought I’d do a bit of standing around.”

Samantha: “Standing around?”

Harold: “Yup, just standing. I like a bit of standing, me. In fact, that’s pretty much all we do here in town. Stand, absolutely motionless. If one of those free-roaming adventurer types happens to run up to you, you can give them a quest to do.”

Samantha: “Oh. Right.”

Harold: “Make sure they run right up to you though; if they’re more than two feet away, don’t speak to them. It’s our little game, keeps them on their toes.”

Samantha: “Why?”

Harold: “Well, they’re allowed to run around freely, enjoy the fresh air, get a change of scenery. Meanwhile, we’re all stuck here, on the same spot, day after day. So we make sure they have to do as much running as possible; Arnold over there came up with the FedEx mission archetype one day, that one spread through the NPC ranks like wildfire. We had those adventurers running all over the land. That’ll teach ’em!”

Samantha: “So… we just stand here?”

Harold: “Yup. Why, what were you expecting?”

Samantha: “Well, the NPC brochure made it sound a bit more dynamic.”

Harold: “Oh, there are more dynamic NPCs. You know, some of us get to move around.”

Samantha: “Really? Oh that sounds more like my sort of thing.”

Harold: “Oh yes. Sometimes, you get to move over to a barrel, and put an item in it. Graham over there gets to put some seeds in that planting pot behind him every now and again, when an adventurer’s quest requires it. Alright Graham!”

Graham: “Kill me.”

Harold: “Ha ha, don’t mind Graham, he’s been here since Beta so he’s probably just got a bit of cramp. You took out your KSA insurance, right?”

Samantha: “KSA?”

Harold: “Deary me, what are they teaching at NPC school these days? Knee, Shin and Ankle insurance: you’re going to be standing on that spot, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, for several years at least. The only time we get a break is when they take the server down for maintenance. Isn’t that right Graham?”

Graham: “I can’t feel anything below my nipples.”

Harold: “Ha, ha. That’s our Graham, always looking on the bright side.”

Samantha: “B…bright side?!”

Harold: “Well, if you can’t feel your legs anymore you’re one of the lucky ones! The excruciating torturous pain is gone; it’s one of the perks of years of service. And anyway, you probably couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the legs become locked and the knee joints fuse after about six months. So get your standing position right, make sure your legs are a comfortable distance apart, because it won’t be long before they’re stuck like it.”

Samantha: “But I want to move around! Why can’t I move?!”

Harold: “Why can’t you move around? Why can’t you move around?! How would the poor adventurers find you then? Those poor simpletons would have to look for you; go asking other people in the area where they’d last seen you; maybe even have to use some brain power to deduce where you might be, based on the time of day and your profession, say. We can’t have that! Their lives are hard enough, what with all the running around and killing defenceless animals for huge piles of gold and equipment.”

Samantha: “But the animals move around!”

Harold: “Oh deary me, you really are fresh from the NPC propaganda machine aren’t you? No, no, no. It’s just not done; you can’t have NPCs moving around in some sort of semblance of life, it would be chaos. You can’t make things that are involving and dynamic, adventurers don’t like it. They much prefer us to stand on the same spot, barely moving, for time immemorial.”.

Harold: “Anyway, think yourself lucky that you’re indoors. Ok, so you’ll never get to see the sky again, but at least you’re not stuck out in the elements all year round!”

Samantha: <runs off screaming>

Harold: “Here! You can’t go running around like that, what if an adventurer needs to bring you some rabbit intestines in exchange for gold? I dunno, this new generation of NPCs are becoming more rebellious by the day. Wasn’t that way back in our day. Time was that we’d be like a statue, a quest and loot vending machine in the shape of a humanoid. Isn’t that right Graham?”

Graham: “I’ve never been to the toilet, you know.”

Thought for the day.

Conversations you never hear from PCs in the starter area of a game:

“Mum, I don’t wanna be a hero! I don’t want to go risking myself in battle, facing demons, travelling for miles a day and defending cities from tyranny, all with the risk of dying alone on some foreign field. I just want a quiet life, here on the farm with Harriot the pig and Donald the goose and my herb garden.

Look, there are thousands of heroes out there already! I mean, you can barely get into the village for all the heroes running around with their flashy abilities and armour and their bags full of various animal entrails that they give to random strangers. Heroes are a dime a dozen around here. I thought I’d just stay in the village and write down my thoughts about the world; you know, philosophise a bit about the meaning of it all.

What I’m trying to say is… I’m an NPC, Mum. A bystander! A quest-giver! I’m one of those immobile, nondescript, cash-laden, monologuing, storyline providers. I’m a Loot Font, Mum, and proud of it!

Which reminds me, Kenneth and I are going on an NPC Pride march in an hour and I probably won’t be back for tea.”

FedEx, fed up.

We join our brave adventurer as he arrives at the house of Norom the Confounding with an ancient voluminous tome, which he discovered on the corpse of a small swamp slug. As you do.

Norom the Confounding: “I’m not sure what this is, can you take it to Haddockar on the other side of the world to find out.”

Adventurer: “It’s a tome.”

Norom: “Pfff. Just take it to Haddockar, he’ll know what it is.”

<Five hours and three hundred crap animal attacks later>

Haddockar: “It’s a tome.”

<Seven hours, two hundred crap animal attacks and a wrong turn into the Tomb of Pain and Instant Death, later>

Adventuerer: “Haddockar says, it’s a tome.”

Norom: “A tome you say? Well, let’s take look then! Hmm, I can’t read it, you’ll have to take it to Codur to decode the strange script.”

Adventurer: “I can read that language. It’s in dwarven runes. I’m a dwarf.”

Norom: “Pfff. Just take it to Codur, he’ll know what it says.”

Adventurer: <mumbles> “It says you’re a %#*!”

Norom: “Sorry?”

Adventurer: “Nothing.”

<Five hours, one thousand crap animal attacks, a wrong turn and two hours running around the maze of paths in the Forest of Convenient Tree Formations (where there are huge swathes of open space that form a convenient path, until the point you need to go somewhere, and then suddenly there are only walls of trees that have grown so incredibly close together that you can’t quite squeeze past. CONVENIENT), later>

Adventurer: “Norom wants you to translate this.”

Codur: “Hmmm, they’re dwarven runes.”

Adventurer: “I know.”

Codur: “You can read these, you’re a dwarf.”

Adventurer: “Really? I hadn’t noticed. My beard must have got in the way.”

Codur: “Stop wasting my time and take this back to Norom.”

<Seven hours, two lag deaths, three drownings, four tickets for speeding and a wrong turn into the Cavern of Lazy Location Design Filled With Elite Mobs, later>

Adventurer: “Codur says that I can translate it.”

Norom: “You can translate it eh? Well, have read and tell me what it says.”

Adventurer: <mumbles> “It says you’re a %#*!”

Norom: “Sorry?”

Adventurer: “It says that we shall find the Immortal Songblade of Nefronggrevat by following its instructions.”

Norom: “Immortal Songblade, you say?”

Adventurer: “Yes.”

Norom: “Of Nefronggrevat, you say?”

Adventurer: “Uh huh.”

Norom: “Never heard of it. Take this to the librarian and get him to find us information about the blade.”

Adventurer: “And where, pray tell is the librarian? How many miles, through rabid creatures and mud and biting insects and ogre camps, over mountains and through canyons must I travel to reach this librarian.”

Norom: “He’s standing right beside me.”

Librarian: “Hi!”

<Looks at Librarian. Looks at Norom.>

Adventurer: “Can’t you just ask him yourself?”

Norom: “Noooo. No. No. No. No. Yeaaaaaaaaa… no.”

Adventurer: “Norom wants a book detailing the Immortal Songblade of Nefronggrevat.”

Librarian: “I’m delighted to inform you that I just happen to have a copy on me now. Here you go friend, give this to Norom.”

<Looks at Norom. Looks at Librarian>

<Beats them both to death with the book>

Congratulations! You have reached level 2!

Base! How low can you go?

I’ve been tinkering around with bases in City of Heroes this weekend. Bases are supergroup (CoH guild) “houses”; if you’re of sufficient rank within a supergroup, you can wander up to an NPC and say “I’d like a base, please!”, then Base Portals, placed in all the main city zones, will teleport you into a little 4×4 entrance lobby with an exit teleporter and not much else. From there, with the Edit Base option, you get to play architect and/or makeover show host, adding new rooms to your base and furnishing them.

Bases have been in City of Heroes since the release of City of Villains in 2005, but never really worked out quite as the designers intended. The basic problem was that bases were incredibly expensive. You needed a large amount of Prestige to build even a basic functional base (Prestige is a supergroup currency; when playing, you have to choose between earning Influence, personal currency for improving your character, or Presitge, supergroup currency for improving the group base), then you have to pay monthly rent on it, which means you really needed to be in a big supergroup. Being in a big supergroup, though, meant either base layout anarchy, or a few people as base architects with the appropriate permissions to edit a base.

That didn’t bother me too much; I had a play around on the test server (where new supergroups were automatically given a vast stack of Prestige to test bases), built a functional base to see how the base editor worked, and left it at that. The base editor is as flexible as my beloved costume editor, you can place all sorts of furniture, gadgets and gizmos (both functional and purely decorative), tweak the lighting, raise and lower floors and ceilings, generally make everything from a gleaming-walled hi-tech lab to an office with conference table, whiteboards and desks to a dank stone-walled crypt with arcane symbols everywhere. The test server being the test server, though, I didn’t put too much effort into personalising the place as I wouldn’t be spending any time there, the most striking feature I added being what I called “the room of photocopiers”, a room filled with (you’ll never guess…) photocopiers. I like to think of it as an art installation. Actually, with a spare empty gallery, a sackful of cash from the Arts Council and an office supplies store, I reckon I could do it in First Life and have a decent shot at the Turner Prize. But I digress…

Over on the live servers, our Supergroup built up nice hero and villain bases, with teleporters to various parts of the city, storage areas and similar, and prepared for the Item of Power trial. The Item of Power trial was to be the first supergroup raid in CoH; up to 24 members of the group would head off to an epic battle with Rularuu, and if you win, your group receives an Item of Power in the base, granting a small supergroup-wide buff. The Item of Power was also intended to introduce more PvP; owning one would open your base up to being raided by other groups, who’d steal the Item of Power if they overcame your defences. Unfortunately, Items of Power have never gone live. They’ve tried the system a few times on the test server, we’ve had a few practise base invasions over there (which are pretty fun), but for some reason it’s never quite worked out, which is a shame. Maybe next issue, for the 2 year anniversary of City of Villains…

As Jack “Statesman” Emmert said in a Serious Games Summit Keynote: “We spent more time developing [bases] than any other feature in City of Heroes or City of Villains,” he says. Although bases are built by a team, Emmert and his team viewed them as being “incredibly, incredibly individual” because each piece of the base is designed and added by individuals.

“What happened was players hated it. It’s the most underused facet of the game. It received almost no coverage in the press. And there’s nothing like it in any other MMP.” Emmert’s hypothesis is that “people don’t like contributing money to a group to express individuality. … At its heart, these MMPs are individual game experiences in front of a computer terminal.”

I think “hated” is a bit of a strong term, it was more ambivalence, really. The base was just… there, a handy shortcut sometimes, a bit of storage space, and not very much else.

Coming back to CoH in the last couple of weeks, there’ve been considerable improvements in bases for small groups while I was away. Where originally you needed a (very expensive) power room and control room, and expensive generators and computers to put in those rooms to power and control the rest of the base, and that was before you could even think about adding workshops or teleport chambers or other useful bits, they’ve introduced smaller, and much more affordable rooms such that a two-person supergroup can actually get a functional base up and running, so that’s what I’ve done. That’s given me much more of an incentive to actually tinker with design; with a large, temporary base and virtually infinite prestige on the test server, decoration was a case of rapidly scanning through the myriad available options, and slapping the largest and strangest looking items around the place at random (plus, of course, filling a room with photocopiers). Having a few rooms and a limited amount of prestige focuses my attention, in a good way. We’ll still need a photocopier, though…