Katrina Johnson

I'm always wary of over-hyped games. I first heard about Spore almost two years ago when a fan in one of my classes drooled over an early video. I smiled politely at him and nearly forgot about the game until it surfaced on blogs in full force a couple months ago, in anticipation of its release.

Spore is one of those games like Halo where it's been marketed to the point where even non-gamers have heard of it. I get annoyed when I tell people that I study video game design and they immediately associate it with adolescent boys wasting their lives away, mindlessly shooting each other over an internet connection. Spore is probably a better association, but I'll admit that I've never been a member of Will Wright's legion of fans. I've heard that a lot of girls play The Sims. However, when a girl tells me that she only plays The Sims, I nod and smile and often change the subject. The Sims players seem more similar to those who only play casual games, so it's often harder for me to discuss the finer points of game design and narrative with them.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when the first hour or two of Spore played like a casual game. The beginning was practically a copy of flOw, Jenova Chen's brilliant thesis project that was recreated and released for the PS3. He was hired as a designer on Spore, but it still seemed ridiculous to me that I was playing the same game when I liked the music and aesthetic of flOw better.

After I got out of the initial stage, I was able to move onto the land. The game then became confusing. As a player used to complicated RPG interfaces, Spore was befuddling in its simplicity. Everything had been reduced to a visual representation, but this created a ridiculous amount of tutorial to explain what button to use for each function. Then there was a system to "make friends" with other creatures. I didn't understand why some creatures would be my friends and others wouldn't. Why did some creatures have such steep requirements to be friends? It took me a long time to figure out that each friendly action, such as dancing or singing, had a level. If I had a high dance level and a low singing level, it would be hard to make friends with creatures would wouldn't dance with me. This was completely determined by chance, which was frustrating.

Spore was largely praised for its character customization as well. This aspect also became frustrating. I like forming an attachment to my character and I try to make them as cute as possible. In Spore, however, your character's attributes (such as dancing level or health) can be directly tied to the parts you put on them. I became upset as I had to trade out parts I liked, such as a cute set of ears, for a different set just because it had better attributes. I began to see why a lot of games, such as RPGs with upgradeable armor, will either hide the armor or give you the option to equip cosmetic armor. I wanted more control over my character's appearance without having to sacrifice my character attributes.

Spore has been relatively frustrating for me so far. It hasn't been terribly difficult, but I feel as if it wasn't made for me. I respect what the Spore team is trying to accomplish and I understand their desire to make the game accessible. However, that doesn't mean that it will appeal to a more hardcore gamer like me. I would like to continue playing Spore to see if it improves in later stages. I've heard the real game comes after evolution is complete. I just hope that this game is compelling enough to catch my interest before I get to space.

I'm always searching for game writing inspiration. When I heard about "Planetfall," an unconventional novella inspired by science fiction literature and modern interactive narrative, I was intrigued. Author John Burnett, a user interface (UI) artist for video games by day and a renaissance man by night, has written a linear story with a sleek flash interface that affected me in a powerful way.

"Planetfall" differs from other novellas in its format. The story is presented in a seamless UI inspired by early images of the Animus from Assassin's Creed. The narrative is written entirely through a futuristic messaging system that is a hybrid of modern-day emailing and instant messaging. While no dates or timestamps are present, the chronology of the story is quite clear, and the pacing is strong. At first I thought the lack of dates was a fault, but, upon further reflection, I began to see how it aided the overall flow of the story.

The plot is an interesting experiment of a crew put in a drastic situation. The reactions are profoundly human, representing some of the best and worst aspects of humanity. In a relatively short amount of time, Burnett manages to convey the struggles of a large group of people and the variety of emotions they experience. It is very reminiscent of games, as the electronic messages are all we have of the incident. The gaps must be filled in by the reader. Fortunately, Burnett manages to take advantage of the opportunity to leave out information and throw in some surprises. The ending left me somewhat shaken, but I enjoyed it and the finale was fitting.

Burnett has a great attention to detail despite the deceptively simple interface. In his notes, he mentions key decisions, such as having photos for each character to emphasize their humanity. He then explains how he lights up each character when they are the person who wrote the message, but when their picture fades out, the light remains slightly longer on their eyes. Burnett also made several revisions to the novella that added a surprising level of polish, such as the maintenance reports that help break up the messages with a more visual piece of narrative.

While Burnett's novella could clearly provide some positive inspiration for game writers considering telling stories through logs or files, there are still a few weaknesses. For a story told in 2030, his characters have an unusual grasp of some terms that would surely be antiquated by that time. Certain phrases, such as "grab a pen," may be outdated. More futuristic phrases, such as "grab a stylus," could provide more suitable replacements. Also, the story sets a very clear tone through the dialogue. I enjoyed the dry wit and the coolness, but this did create characters with less depth. I wanted to see a character or two with more quirkiness, or characters with different senses of humor. Also, several of Burnett's central characters have a high degree of academic literary knowledge. It seems unlikely that characters in 2030 stuck on a spaceship would've spent hours in a classroom studying Shakespeare and Yeats which they can then quote to express their frustrations.

Despite its faults, I feel that "Planetfall" provides a strong narrative. Outside of sci-fi literature, Burnett cites his inspirations as System Shock 2 and BioShock. This style of on-demand narrative through logs in increasingly popular, as it will also be utilized in the upcoming Dead Space. It has certainly inspired me to write my own interactive narrative through messages. It certainly seems a challenge to write an interactive narrative that could affect me as strongly as "Planetfall."

After the incredible reveal in KOTOR, I was really looking forward to the finale. I was extremely motivated to play after that fantastic twist. I wondered how the writers would deal with such a great shift in character and what other secrets would unfold.

I eagerly played through the last planet and found myself trapped on an unknown planet that resembled an island paradise. While this new place had some interesting conflicts, I found myself less engaged with the game than I was during previous levels. This stage was a means to the end, and I no longer cared about details such as the history of a new alien race. I was hungry for the real drama - I wanted to find my lost friend and beat Malak once and for all.

Malak was still a couple of levels away. I had to weave through a labyrinthine tomb and then fight wave after wave of enemies on his ship. I spent almost an hour fighting what seemed like endless streams of nameless enemies. I grew frustrated. I had been given a taste of fantastic narrative and suddenly I was stuck in some boring hack-and-slash. I don't mind fights at the end of a game, but these enemies had little narrative connection to the story; they were essentially bodies thrown at me to slow me down. Eventually, I took advantage of a chance to skip out on a fight and ran ahead to face Malak.

I confronted my friend and then reached the final boss fight. There were few surprises in the narrative and the final boss fight was dull and poorly paced. Malak would frequently run off to leech power, and I would heal myself quickly before hacking away at his HP again. It was tedious and dull, especially when I would have to wait for him to run over to me and attack me.

When the final boss fight was over, I was shown the "light side" cinematic ending. I was incredibly disappointed to watch a few lame 2D people cheering for me as I got a silly metal. After 30 hours and a ridiculous amount of fighting at the end, I won a war and got a few empty words. It was such a letdown after the big reveal that I thought there must be a better ending for the dark side. I looked it up on YouTube and found that the dark side ending definitely gave the player a greater sense of power. It was certainly not Mass Effect's ending, but this version was obviously superior to the light side version. I wondered if the game would have been more fun if I was on the dark side and spent 30 hours being mean to people.

As a fan of RPGs, I finish relatively few games. Many RPGs require such a time investment that it becomes impractical to finish a game when I grow frustrated. I don't regret finishing KOTOR at all, but I wish that it had given me more of a sense of accomplishment at the end. Mass Effect left me feeling as if I'd saved the universe and Okami nearly had my crying tears of joy. I was disappointed that a game that had such an awesome climax fell flat on its face at the end.

However, if you have played KOTOR, please read on and feel free to share your own thoughts.

An hour later, I was deeply engrossed in the game. The seemingly ordinary task on Korriban had turned into a rather interesting quest concerning multiple tombs in the Valley of the Dark Lords. By the time I left Korriban, I had met a host of interesting characters, from the ghost of a Sith lord to a droid that was hyper-sensitive to sounds.

As I flew to the next planet, I was shocked to find my ship pulled into a tractor beam. Suddenly, we had been captured and our entire fate was dependent on one character. I had to play solo to free my fellow adventurers. This new quest sounded quite fun, so I decided to play a little longer, foregoing my usual makeup routine.

No sooner had I rescued my characters than further developments unfolded, and I found myself bargaining for more time. I resolved to buy food instead of taking the time to make a sandwich. I worked my way through the level, searching each room and taking out the enemies. I had just beaten a boss and was running to my ship. Nearly home free, I was convinced I would stop once I had reached that safe point.

Then it hit me. It was possibly the biggest OMG moment in the entire game. Darth Malak had stopped me and mocked me with a grave truth: I was Darth Revan, the other half of the sinister pair that I had been fighting the entire game. My mouth dropped open in shock. It was simply brilliant.

I continued through the conversation, clicking through the dialogue with a stupid grin on my face. The writers had fooled me with one incredibly clever twist. I was thrilled.

Riding on this high, I suddenly noticed the time and had to race out the door and drive to school, still in shock. I ran into horrible traffic and was late to class, but I didn't care. I had just experienced one of my greatest moments in gaming. Fortunately, I was driving to a game design class full of people who would understand, or so I thought.

"I saw it coming," claimed one of my friends. How could it seem so simple to him and yet so brilliantly hidden to me? As I talked with him, I began to see how I had assumed that Revan was a male from the beginning, so it never occurred to me that my female character could be the same person. Even though Revan was carefully hidden in cloaks, my assumption had allowed me to be taken completely by surprise. He had played as a male character in the presence of roommates who dropped hints now and then.

Fantastic OMG moments in games can seem like pure genius when set up properly, but games aren't played in a vacuum. Gamers form a community that seems to thrive on rumors of the latest game and fans love to drool over the newest trailer. In a game development setting, some employees pick up games as soon as they come out and avidly discuss the finer points the next day. If you wait until the price drops, you will likely overhear gossip that spoils the delicate secrets of a game.

KOTOR's big reveal was incredibly satisfying for me because it caught me completely by surprise. Playing a game long past its prime kept me shielded from the spoilers and blissfully ignorant of its amazing twist. In a culture that thrives on the rapid spread of knowledge, I hope that writers continue to weave in twists that catch players off guard. It's the OMG moments that make the other 10-30 hours worthwhile.

When I tell people how much I've been enjoying Lord of the Rings Online (LOTRO), they often stare and me in shock and say, "But there's no PvP!" Well, yes and no. There is no PvP in the normal play modes. You can challenge other players to a duel, but that's about it. However, there is a light PvP mode called Monster Play.

I'm not the type of player that thrives on PvP experiences, but I'm always curious about them. LOTRO had a particularly interesting system with Monster Play, a separate mode where you begin as a max-level monster. You can fight against max-level player characters from the normal mode of the game in a special area (Ettenmoors). Originally, I expected a system that would be balanced in my favor (I would win easily against a max-level character from the normal mode). Unfortunately, I found that I was at a disadvantage. While my morale (health points) and power (mana/magic points) were equal to the stats of other players, my opponents had spent hours acquiring a vast array of skills they had mastered. As an Uruk-hai, I began with a handful of skills that were relatively weak and I couldn't heal myself. While I was familiar with the game and controls, I felt clumsy compared to my opponents. Also, I couldn't boost my stats through armor and other upgrades.

The odd thing about Monster Play is how closely it resembles normal play. It uses the same UI, just covered with a new skin. You can follow a single-player path by going on quests given out by NPCs. Some of these quests were very easy, but others seemed quite difficult without companions. I went on one quest to steal food from hobbits. I thought, as a giant Uruk-hai, I could easily take on one or two hobbits. I snuck into the camp, defeated one max-level hobbit who put up a stong fight, and set my sights on a stack of food. It was surrounded by a couple hobbits. My plan was to run in, fight a bit, grab the food, and run out. To my surprise, as soon as I ran in, I was surrounded by a crowd of hobbits within 10 seconds. I watched my "powerful" monster die mercilessly at the chubby little hands of NPCs that looked like children compared to him.

My major issue with watching myself get killed by hobbits was the fact that, as a monster, I expected to feel powerful. I wanted the game to be balanced in my favor and I didn't want to get bested by a bunch of measly NPC hobbits. I didn't expect the game to be easy, but it seems ridiculous to require you to group as a monster. That the game implies that PvP should be a bunch of monsters grouping to fight against strong NPCs or against groups of players from the normal mode. Probably the strangest aspect of Monster Play was how few player-controlled opponents I saw in the area. This meant that there were mainly groups of monsters going up against ridiculously powerful NPCs (such as a Captain with 137,000 morale) to capture forts on the map. I really didn't see the point.

Even more pointless than capturing points over and over again was the fact that I could gain no experience from those difficult quests. Instead, I could gain traits, deeds, titles, and destiny points. I understand that it my be an incentive for some people, but I would much rather take the time to earn those achievements on a character I really enjoy playing, such as my elf lore-master. Perhaps I'm just non competitive enough to enjoy this mode. Whether or not that's true, it seems that the PvP mode is the one area of the game where Turbine faltered. They set the standard too high in the normal mode, and I was expecting something better.

After I finished Mass Effect, I was desperate to find a new game. I wanted an experience that would draw me in and take me on a fantastic journey. I knew it would be difficult to find a current game that I would love as much as Mass Effect, so I turned to the past. On the recommendation of a friend, I decided to set aside my frustrations with Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (KOTOR) on the 360 and get a fresh start trying it on my PC.

There was a remarkable improvement in performance and graphic quality on my PC. I was much happier playing the game when it didn't freeze up during battles, stutter during cutscenes, or muddle the textures. Suddenly the "dated" game didn't look so old. The game started to become more fun when I wasn't distracted by performance and graphics bugs.

Perhaps more important than the changes in processing and resolution were the changes in my perspective. After completing one BioWare game (Mass Effect), I had a better understanding of the types of puzzles I would encounter. I breezed through Taris in four hours instead of my previous ten hours. I finally understood that puzzles required a little thought; you had to pay attention to hints dropped casually in conversation. Clues were also left on datapads I collected unceremoniously from corpses nearby. Simple attention to the world helped me see how the answers were falling into my hands in an organic way.

I have easily surpassed the point where I stopped on the 360, and it was time well-spent. I finally feel as if I'm moving in a productive direction. Even if the battles and stat-management are more difficult than Mass Effect, I have a better understanding of BioWare-style games. I'm less likely to get stuck and I'm now free to enjoy the game. I'm looking forward to the rest of my adventure.

As a fan of single-player RPGs, I’ve grown accustomed to playing games alone. I try to avoid contacting other people online unless I absolutely need their help. I recently began playing Lord of the Rings Online (LotRO), a game which has required me to have a few crash courses in MMO etiquette.

One common practice while grouping (or joining a “Fellowship” in LotRO), is the use of voice chat. My fingers are often busy pressing keys to use skills and such while I play, so pausing to type in a chat window can sometimes be impractical. For example, if my character was dying and in need of immediate assistance, I could shout “Heal Me!” about 10 seconds faster than I could type it. Voice chat can be the difference between success and failure or life and death.

I was not opposed to the idea of voice chat with strangers, despite the inevitable break in characterization. On an early fellowship quest, I was disoriented when this deep male voice came from a delicate, lovely female elf. I understand that it is unlikely that many of the female characters are actually belong to female players, and you can’t make assumptions. Soon, I got my voice chat working and jumped in.

I greeted my group in my high-pitched girl voice and assumed that they would figure out that I was a girl. Unfortunately, it seemed more likely that I was a 10-year-old boy, as I soon discovered when these guys described me as a “him”. I quickly explained that I actually was a woman, not a pre-pubescent child. The guys laughed uncomfortably and mumbled something about not wanting to assume. I guess that they had made the safer choice – it’s less embarrassing for a woman to be called a boy than it is for a boy to be called a woman. Statistically, they were also probably making a safer assumption in calling me a male.

I was glad that my fellowship treated me no differently once they found out my true gender. There was always a chance that I was lying, but it seems like most of the LotRO audience is more mature and respectful than the average MMO crowd. Hearing their voices did seem jarring at times and broke their character, but I feel like the advantages often outweigh the disadvantages. After all, I was only allied with this fellowship for a short period of time. Also, despite how silly someone’s voice can seem compared to their character, sometimes they can be very knowledgeable and helpful regarding the details of the game. If anything, hearing the voices of my fellow players showed me that I can’t judge by appearances, and even our voices can be a type of mask.

Before I began playing an MMO seriously, I could never understand why people would want to keep up multiple characters on one account. While it seemed cool to explore different classes or races, the amount of time required to get five level seventy characters in a game like World of Warcraft seemed ridiculous. It just didn’t seem wise to spend all your time on one game. However, I soon learned that there may be a more moderate way to experience a different race and class. Alternate characters could have other uses.

I was surprised when my Lord of the Rings Online (LotRO) buddy suggested that I make an alternate character. I was quite satisfied with my initial multiplayer experience as an elf lore-master, and I didn’t understand why I would need to build up a new character. However, the crafting system is quite extensive in LotRO, so it made sense to spread out crafting trades among characters to maximize resources. Also, there were times where I wanted to play but couldn’t without getting ahead of my friend, so an alternate character would provide a way for me to play when I felt like it.

I created a woman captain for my new character. I chose to play as a captain because I could summon a human companion similar to the “pet” I summoned as a lore-master. Just the idea of having another person beside me as I fought was comforting, even if I knew that he was just a simple minion.

One of my favorite aspects of LotRO is the fantastic opening instances. When I began playing as the woman, I got to see the beginning instance for human characters. It included some fun gameplay, such as setting things on fire. I loved how I was thrown into the action instantly, not babied through a tutorial. I felt that the town I was in desperately needed my help. The scripted events that I experienced alone made it feel all the more personal. This adventure was truly my own, and I had begun a new adventure.

Playing solo was a fun challenge for me. There was no waiting around for other players and I could complete quests however I wanted. I had to develop new strategies, especially in crowded areas. Unfortunately, as I progressed to higher levels, I realized that LotRO is a game that encourages fellowships. The sense of freedom I had was replaced by a sense of limitation – without a fellowship, I couldn’t complete certain quests. LotRO does have a great chat system and a strong network of people willing to help, but you can’t always find someone to help you with every quest at any given time of day.

I have enjoyed my experiences as a solo player, but it does seem that the game is much more rewarding to those who take the effort to quest in fellowships. Fellowship quests have fantastic rewards, such as great armor or weapons. With a fellowship, you can work through quests faster but experience from fighting enemies is split among your allies. Solo progress seems much slower, since experience is gained faster when completing quests than when defeating enemies. The game does have certain ways of balancing this, such as weapon and armor crafting systems and the relative ease of finding random fellowships through the “Looking for Fellowship” chat channel. I still enjoy LotRO as a single-player experience, but I feel that, as an MMO, it is truly most rewarding in the company of friends.

Penny Arcade web comics have been famous with gamers for years for their humorous interpretations of popular games and culture. The writers' wit and charm extend beyond the comics to their news columns, where the writers often give very fair assessments of games. I have a good friend who is a huge Penny Arcade fan, and he was thrilled that the creators of the web comic decided to make a video game.

Penny Arcade Adventures: On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness: Episode One was released in late May. While I have recently been enjoying Penny Arcade, I am still new to the comics and don't seem to connect with them as well as my friend. I appreciate the humor, but there have been a few comics that I find a little gratuitously violent or confusing. This influenced the way I saw the game, since the style of the game, from the art to the humor, was a near-perfect translation of the web comic. I appreciated most of the humor, but, like the comic, there were a few moments where I felt that it wasn't quite my taste.

My main issue with the game's style stemmed from what I felt was unnecessary vulgarity. Working in the video game industry, I am often the only woman around, and I'm no stranger to games and jokes tailored to a male audience. I'm not opposed to sexuality or innuendo in games, but having a common enemy in the game constantly making sexual motions, having sexual attacks, and peeing on me is not exactly my cup of tea. This was a slight annoyance to me, and I was willing to put up with it because of the game's other redeeming qualities. However, it's worth noting that the M-rating was put to good use at certain moments, such as when NPCs swore profusely after a shocking event happened. Instead of skirting around the issue with stilted dialogue, the NPCs reacted in a very natural way, which was quite refreshing.

From the comic-book art to the clever writing, I really enjoyed the other aspects of the game's style. The game did a wonderful job translating the 2-D art into 3-D. Cutscenes were in 2-D, but the game took place in a 3-D world. There was a fantastic attention to detail as well. The transitions between sub-areas of a level looked like shifts between comic book cells. My custom character was integrated into the 2-D cutscenes, which was a nice surprise. The level of detail extended to the writing, as every clickable object had clever and often varied captions. Instead of just "So-and-So's Mailbox," I found one mailbox labeled "It's another god%$#@ed mailbox!" This type of humor was fantastic, verbalizing the thoughts I'd often have from other tedious RPGs. This game rewards you for taking the time to look around the world with humor at every click.

I had initially seen this game on the 360, but I played through the demo myself on the PC. The controls seemed similar, but with the 360 you move around with an analog stick and with the PC it's more of a point-and-click adventure. Button-presses for special attacks seem to have all been moved to the spacebar. The PC controls felt natural to me. On dialogue screens, dialgue chioces were presented similar to the style of Mass Effect, where the feeling of the line was conveyed through the dialogue choice but the actual line said something different. Unlike Mass Effect, however, the choices and the actual statements were equally ridiculous and amusing. The combat system was simple but fairly efffiencient. Combat felt very similar to a Japanese RPG due to the turn-based system. However, it was not overly complicated.

This Penny Arcade episode is certainly a promising start. While there are certain stlyistic aspects that I don't enjoy, the developers had a very good understanding of the scope of an episodic game. The game doesn't attempt to be a AAA console title, but it is fantastically clever and entertaining. I hope to enjoy more of it in the future, when I can make some time to play the whole game through.