Monthly Archives: January 2010

Of cheese and cake.

After reading Tobold’s post I was riding a train of thought with regards to innovation in MMOs when it hit an analogy on the track and the whole thing was catastrophically derailed. Here, for your morbid delectation, is the sensationalist news report from the site of the wreckage.

MMOs are like cheesecake.

Like cheesecake, MMOs are built upon a bland but generally acceptable base. There are a few people that enjoy the base alone for what it is, but I think it’s fair to say that most people expect their cheesecake to have a thick layer of sickly soft-cheese goodness piled on top of it; as long the base exists and is not offensive or overly complex in itself while supporting the topping, most people are happy.

The problem with innovation these days is that people seem to want to evolve the base of MMOs. Changing the base is difficult: it currently works, it’s proven to work, and generally there’s not a lot you can do with biscuit or sponge that will make it a lot more exciting. So what we will end up with is MMO cheesecakes with bases made of ham, crayon, or tinsel. And because it takes so much effort to change the base, as well as the base ending up as unpalatable, there will then only be a very thin layer of topping because there wasn’t any time for anything more, which only serves to make the odd base all the more stark in contrast.

What MMOs need to succeed is a good topping; lots and lots of topping, and it is with the topping that you can innovate most easily and successfully. You can layer your topping with different flavours that complement each other; you can go for a generic vanilla flavour that appeals to most people, or specialise in more exotic flavours that will draw in a smaller subset who will stay loyal to you for as long as you provide that specific flavour.

World of Warcraft is an incredibly thick vanilla cheesecake with a choice of different toppings, the most popular being a sort of chewy toffee that requires a disproportionate amount of jaw action to get through compared to the soft-cheese below.

Warhammer Online, on the other hand, managed to create a half-biscuit half-baked-bean base, with a desperately thin layer of prawn flavoured soft-cheese mixed with prunes and topped with pine needles.

Some companies have experimented with the base a little with success – CCP for example – but the base is still fundamentally that bland reliable entity that it has always been: it’s the topping that makes the game what it is. Realistically there’s only so much you can do with the base before you are no longer creating a cheesecake and are instead creating a trifle which, as we all know, is perfectly analogous to RTS games. Or maybe it was CCGs? I forget.

If you want to attract MMO players, you have to make a good cheesecake.

(Cheesecake-related post disclaimer/reminder. If you click the image link near the top-right of this page and buy a cheesecake, I get the satisfaction of having made you fatter. If you believe this taints my views and reporting on cheesecake, your opinion would probably be improved with a big chunky slice of baked golden biscuit base, topped with layers of thick creamy soft-cheese, sprinkled with chocolate flakes, and served with a generous helping of double cream.)

No safety or surprise, the end

Danger! Here be Dragon Age Spoilers! Previously on the show: allies had been gathered fairly easily, but things hadn’t quite gone according to plan in the Landsmeet. The situation looks nice and simple as we head for the final act, though: Evil Archdemon to be killed, world to be saved, tea and biscuits for everybody, sorted.

The night before the final battle, Alastair popped his head around the door for a quick chat. He was besotted with me, we were ecstatically happy together, I’d just made him King, I figured he’d probably want to show me his gratitude. And by “gratitude” I mean “hammer“.
“Hi” he began, “you know how like we’re all in love and that? Well, I’m going to have to go and shag a bunch of other birds.”

All right, his reasoning was slightly more complex, involving the need for an heir (look at the mess we were currently in due to lack of succession planning) and the fact that Gray Wardens inevitably went bonkers in the nut, meaning a child of one Gray Warden parent was risky enough let alone two, but it was still a kick in the teeth. I went back to Leilana and tried to persuade her that when she’d given the ultimatum and made me pick either her or Alistair she must’ve misheard me, I didn’t say “well regretfully I’ll have to choose Alistair” at all, it was actually “sod Alistair, he’s just going to go off and ‘ensure the Royal succession’ with some strumpet, it’s you I want” but she wasn’t having any of it. That just left Zevran as a possible romantic interest, but he was a bit too close to Captain Bertorelli from ‘Allo ‘Allo to be a serious option (whatta mistake-a to make-a!)

Still, never mind, once I’d heroically killed the Archdemon I’d be fighting ’em off with a stick, right? “Oh yeah, about that…” chirped up Riordan, the conveniently liberated Warden, “I should probably just mention that whoever kills the Archdemon dies themselves. Y’know, it’s a bit like when you’ve got a nuclear hand grenade with a blast radius bigger than your throwing range. Only not like that, and with more magical essence and stuff. But don’t worry! I’ll do my utmost to strike the final blow.”
“Uh huh. The geezer that’s just turned up is our ultimate saviour? Seems a bit unlikely, doesn’t it? Lacks a bit of emotional impact compared to having to choose between me or Alistair. Though if the silly git had let Loghain join up, it would’ve been a perfect Evil Henchman Has Change Of Heart And Achieves Redemption By Killing More Evil Boss But Dying In The Process (there must be a snappier title for that on TV Tropes).”
“Well, narrative imperative does rather suggest that doesn’t it, but we’ll sort it out at the time I’m sure. Hope I haven’t dampened the mood at the pre-battle party too much!”

I didn’t really fancy the vol-au-vents after that and slunk off to bed, but got buttonholed by Morrigan on the way. “Don’t worry, my liege, I overheard that stuff about a Warden having to die, and I have a cunning plan!”
I sighed. “If it’s putting a pair of underpants on my head, a pencil up each nostril and saying ‘wibble’, I don’t think it’s going to help”
“Better than that! I sleep with Alistair, then the evil-demon-essence-thing will latch onto me instead of the Warden who delivers the killing blow, and result in me being pregnant with a demon-Alistair-god-magic-baby-thing.”
“That’s the worst chat-up line I’ve ever heard. Still, it might work…”

Dilemma time: having gone to all the trouble of making Alistair King, if he struck the final blow to the Archdemon and popped his clogs we’d be back to square one with the other main ruling candidate locked up. On the other hand if I struck the final blow, being dead would put a serious crimp in my plans for the weekend, as well as making a direct sequel a bit difficult (Dragon Age 2: I Got Better!) If Riordan struck the final blow then nobody would give a stuff, hence being a somewhat unlikely eventuality. Or! I could unleash a demon-Alistair-god-magic-baby-thing on the world. Hrm. As the old saying goes, “better to face the possibility of a demon-Alistair-god-magic-baby-thing in the future than your own imminent death in the present”, so I told Morrigan to go for it. As long as I could watch. “That’s the worst chat-up line I’ve ever heard” said Alistair, but he went along with the plan. The strumpet.

Finally we plunged in to the actual final battle, and that was nicely done. For a start it actually made sense of a fixed party size! “A small party of you, say, hrm, oh, I don’t know, picking a number at random, four should go and confront the Archdemon while the rest of the group stay and defend the gate!” The allies you’d gathered in the earlier part of the game were available to call on as reinforcements as you hacked your way through the city (ever-so-slightly undoing the good work of explaining why you have a fixed party of four by giving you a massive pool of troops to call on, only instead of rushing the Darkspawn with a massive human(/dwarf/elf) wave assault you sportingly only unleash five or ten of them at a time; even then it’s an impressively large scale battle that caused the framerate on the old PC to drop off when the fireballs started flying, so it’s obvious why full army RTS-type battles are impractical). Riordan, surprisingly enough, didn’t manage to take out the Archdemon on his own, but the heroic overpoweredness of Morrigan, Wynne and a giant stack of mana potions did the trick. Archdemon stabbed, magical essence diverted to Morrigan instead of killing me as promised, all that was left was the coronation, victory parade and biscuits. And the “what happened to…” montage; apparently Alistair wasn’t the most natural King and kept buggering off on various quests, but fortunately he left the Kingdom in the incredibly capable hands of… me. So that was OK.

I’m quite interested in all the other possible endings, though not interested enough to play all the possible origins through all the combinations of decisions; it’s where the story can really open up, as there are no more fixed points it has to manoeuvre your character to. Spinks posted an interesting link to the rpg.net forums where people discuss their own endings, and I might try another playthrough sometime, steering towards ending up with Leilana and getting Loghain to strike the final blow on the Archdemon.

What’s also interesting is the announcement of an expansion, Dragon Age: Origins – Awakening (expanding not only the game but the variety of punctuation in the title), with the option to import your character, so perhaps another fixed point to be manoeuvred to after all; I wonder if it’ll take account of all possible endings of the original game, or assume a single “canonical” version?

Symptoms of an MMO.

Ho, what’s this?

A letter in the mail?

Urgent help required!

From Lady Galadriel! Hmm, she wants me to join her army in the fight against the forces of darkness.

Well she could have phoned…

Nevertheless! It seems that Middle Earth is in need of my proven skills as a stout warrior of no mean accomplishment. Time is pressing: the tide of darkness encroaches ever forth, so I shall away to LothlĂłrien to aid them in their time of need immediately!

“Come to our lands” she calls, and I willingly answer the call!

Prove you ain't no scrub, yo.

Right after I’ve pandered to a bunch of her border guards, because apparently she’s too lazy to send them a mail to inform them that I’m on my way. I mean, how much would it take?

“Yo guys,

I’ve asked this dwarf homie over to hang out an’ kill stuff an’ shit, so don’t go killing him on sight or nuttin, yo. Chill, yeah?

Peace,

Lady G”

Word to the allegedly wise: if you formally invite me into your lands to offer up my life to you in battle, you don’t then expect me to first be the errand-bitch of some hippy elf with an itchy bow finger on the border of your lands.

And why? Bringing some daft old bugger the missing half to their favourite socks which was lost in the nearby forest several ages of men ago, that will prove that I’m not an agent of the enemy will it? Killing some enlarged water voles and picking mushrooms will remove the centuries-long enmity of our peoples, will it?

I always knew elves were arrogant arses, but really.

So remember folks: when hosting a dinner party, always make your invited guests clear the front lawn of cat shit and weed the borders when they arrive, before letting them into the warmth of your home.

And if they don’t, set your dog on them. It’s the MMO way.

KiaSA Top Tips.

MMO players, enhance the faithfulness of your STO experience!

Delay playing Star Trek Online for six months, then use a trial account to pretend you’re visiting from an alternative dimension where they’ve never heard of these strange inevitabilities that you Earth creatures call ‘insurmountable lag’, ‘sever instability’ and ‘hideous balancing issues’. Then try to sleep with the captain of the first starship you encounter before disappearing after fourteen days, never to return.

Yours inverse-particly,

Mrs Unas Tayble-Wurmholl.

I wanted to change the world. But I have found that the only thing one can be sure of changing is oneself.

“Morning dear! Tea or coffee with your breakfast?”

“Good morning, uh, tea please. Anything interesting in the Moria Mail this morning?”

“No, nothing really. Another Watcher turned up in the Vile Maw, but what’s new about that?”

“Slow news day it seems. I expect Neville’s team will have dealt with that one already.”

“And what are you up to today? Anything interesting, or the same old same old?”

“Oh, same old, I expect. Probably have to clear some more morroval nests out. Mmmm, lovely cuppa, thanks.”

“Oh dear, really? Can’t they get someone more junior to do that now? You’ve been with the company for so long, and done so well for them, they really don’t make best use of you you know.”

“Yeah well, maybe.”

“No ‘maybe’ about it, you always underestimate yourself. You’re ever so good with an axe: always clearing out goblin infestations for friends and family, and none of us understand these new-fangled legendary weapons like you do.”

“Oh, it’s not so complicated, I just spent a lot of time locked away in my room tinkering with them when I was younger, that’s all. I’m not that good, really. I guess I am quite handy at hewing the ol’ greenskins, but there are lots of people younger than me coming out of Rivendell and Thorin’s Hall with all their fancy deeds and titles in orc slaying; I’m a bit old for it all now.”

“Yes, but they don’t have the in-the-field experience that you do; that counts for a lot, doesn’t it?”

“Well you’d think so, but it doesn’t seem to work that way. Anyway, it’s not so bad, I enjoy the work. Ok the pay is a bit rubbish where I am now, and the inventory management is a nightmare, but it’s an easy life. Sure, I could commute to Mirkwood and find a high paying job there, but the travel each day would be a nightmare and the jobs are all so stressful.”

“Well, as long as you’re ok, then we’re ok.”

“Excellent. Well, I suppose I should be getting off; I expect Norris has already started his shift and he’s probably knee deep in more grodbogs than he can handle, as always; it’ll take us hours to de-bug everything he’s done.”

“Have a good day. Oh, and could you pop into Dolven-view on the way home and pick up some bread?”

“Yup, no problem. See you later.”

“Don’t forget your axe, dear.”

“Guh, I’d forget my own beard if it wasn’t welded to my face! See you tonight.”

Human software engineer. Dwarf Champion. Sometimes my various lives seem eerily similar.

2010 Predictions

Now that Melmoth’s got his comedy prediction out of the way (MMOs are a stagnant genre, atrophying away as the rest of the world moves on, ha ha ha, oh, god, wait, he might be right) I’ll do the serious stuff. Needless to say, 2009 panned out precisely as I predicted, so as a bit of an added challenge for 2010 I’ll be slightly more specific in timing:

  • February 19th, 3.47 – 3.54pm: Aventurine’s exciting “flamebait for cash” programme proves so successful that they further focus on their core audience and replace Darkfall’s combat system with Monkey Island style insult fights. For starter mobs, shouting “lol failgoblin is fail” a couple of times is enough to win the engagement, but large scale PvP battles require more thorough personal attacks and references to the weight of your opponent’s mother.
  • March 6th, 10.11am – 10.18am: using the massive profits from earning gold in WoW, Gevlon constructs an underwater city where he and his fellows can live without being dragged down by morons and slackers. Things don’t turn out too well after the plasmid market takes off…
  • June 14th, 7.22 – 7.29am: Bioware and Cryptic suddenly realise there’s been a terrible mix-up in the IPs they’ve actually got licensed. After everything goes very quiet for a couple of weeks, there are grand announcements of revised games: Star Wars Online features players commanding a Rebel starship, and beaming down to planets where they frequently encounter Imperial agents with funny shaped foreheads, and Star Trek: The Old Republic is set 50,000 years before the TV series, allowing bold Federation officers waving glowing swords to take on evil Klingons who can shoot lightning and choke people from a distance.
  • August 28th, 10.30 – 10.37pm: in a bid to stand out from the crowd of free-to-play games, Sony relaunch Free Realms under a new “be-paid-to-play” model. All players receive $3.95 every month they play, for a mere $4.95 subscription.
  • October 2nd, 4.09 – 4.18am: Turbine decide to emulate Blizzard’s advertising strategy by using an 80s icon. The addition of David Hasselhoff’s “Hasselbazooka” as an in-game item in Lord of the Rings Online is criticised by some players for not fitting in with lore, as it transforms the clothing of whoever it hits into a pair of red swimming trunks, and causes minstrels to start playing a random melody from the Night Rocker album.

With high hope for the future, no prediction is ventured.

Facebook Ads are well known for their knowledge of Ultimate Truth.

Facebook Ads are well known for their knowledge of Ultimate Truth.

You heard it here first, 2009 was the year that MMORPGs died. The advert to the left told me so, and as we all know adverts, like modern day Cassandras, are cursed tell us nothing but the facts about our lives and then be ignored.

The MMORPG genre did have a poor time in 2009 though, and I believe we’ll see the same or worse in 2010. From the few betas that I’ve played recently it seems that the industry is still trying to find its way with regards to pricing structures, and also content and how to structure it.

The Grind is still in evidence; as are Pay Per Pixel games with stores that either charge ludicrous prices or charge for ludicrous items that should be delivered as standard. Any MMO with either of these in evidence is doomed to fail in today’s market.

The advert tells us to get excited, and I find it telling that I can’t really remember the last time I truly got excited about the future of the genre as a whole, a genre that has so readily and consistently failed over the past few years. With each passing year it gets harder and harder to ignore the fact that nothing substantial has happened in the MMO market for some time.

All the evidence I’ve seen so far indicates that basic lessons are not being learned. As things stand I can honestly believe that what the advert tells us is only a year, maybe two, early.

Of course, like PC gaming, the MMO genre will never actually die out, but it will stall and stagnate, and lose any chance at evolving and realising the full potential that many of us have hoped for since we first stepped foot in a virtual world and understood what it might mean for the future.

“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, and then throw it in the face of the person who gave you the lemons until they give you the oranges you originally asked for.” — Cassandra Clare