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Primeval: A Diablo III Review

(photo credit: Chimneys — Casa Milà — Gaudi by Shaun Dunmall)

Most of you

who occupy the same hobby space as me would have heard about the recent release of Diablo III: the third game in a wildly successful franchise for game company Blizzard which contributed to their current state of eminence in the gaming world. In fact, even if you aren’t a gamer you’ve probably heard about it, as the lead-up to the release was so widespread in the media that some very interesting marketing campaigns were created by those seeking to ease the suffering of those affected by its launch. Most of these were responding to the ability of the previous iteration, Diablo II and its expansion Diablo II: Lord of Destruction, to steal away nerdy boys everywhere for periods of time not seen since the Civilisation series. And it was expected that Diablo III would be no different. Gamers have waited patiently as Blizzard announced delay after delay, resulting in a development cycle that reportedly goes back to 2001, although the first real announcement came in 2008 at Blizzard’s Worldwide Invitational in Paris. This, I think anyone can agree, is a bloody long time for a game to be in development. And we’ve all seen what can happen when a game takes that long to be released. Unfortunately for Blizzard, it seems that Diablo III has suffered the same fate as the cigar-chewing, misogynistic protagonist of that other game franchise. Except in the case of Blizzard it’s not bad gameplay specifically, but a bad game playing experience that colours my interaction with the game.

If you’ve never played a Diablo game, let me paint a quick picture for you. The game is played from the perspective of a camera maybe 20 or 30 feet above the player character, whom you guide with a mouse around various sprawling areas replete with monsters for you to click on to attack. When these monsters die, they drop loot: standard RPG fare with gold and items being the primary currency. The loot is randomised, as are the area layouts, and the monsters. You work your way through four Acts, each with a different tileset of surroundings and monsters, before confronting the title beasty in an epic battle between good and evil. The addiction to these games comes through the endless quest for better loot. Since loot is randomised, and there are different rarities of items, there’s that pokey-style compulsion to discover what might drop* out the next time you split a cult fanatic’s head open with a broadsword.

To an outside observer, there isn’t much to enjoy about watching someone play a Diablo game. There are monsters on the screen, they get killed, the player picks up some text off the ground, and they move on to the next screen full of baddies. The storyline of the game is not only badly constructed and full of holes, but the actual method of storytelling is disastrously bad, requiring you to stop the flow of the game, return to town, and receive some poorly voice-acted dialogue that essentially just gives you the next cardinal point to go hacking and slashing towards. The CGI sequences of angels and demons going ballistic at each other are pretty to watch, very pretty to watch, but do nothing to draw you into the game. I think the ultimate example of how bad the storytelling in this game is comes from the fact that fully two main characters die, one of whom has been present in the games since the first iteration, and I didn’t feel a damn thing. Not a twinge! Now, I’d love to put that down to the fact that I’m a heartless monster who has no feeling, but unfortunately I’m a pretty big baby when it comes to emotional scenes in movies, books, even podcasts! For my heartstrings to not feel even a murmur when a kindly old gentleman who accompanied me on my fantastical journeys 12 years ago is struck down, means that there’s something seriously wrong with the treatment of the story.

But okay, okay, let’s make a concession towards Blizzard here. They know their target market. They know that the kind of people who religiously play Diablo aren’t even going to listen to the storylines the first time around, so feverishly will they be mashing the Escape key in order to make it to the next Act. So we’ll forgive them a farce of a storyline and focus on the actual gameplay. After all, in the 12 years since D2 came out, they must have managed some major improvements to the game mechanics, right?

Well, sort of and no.

The ‘sort of’ comes from the fact that D3 plays with a lot less of the somewhat arbitrary limitations on player classes that there were previously. This includes the ability to re-spec** your character at any time; identification of rare items and teleportation back to town now only require a single, non-item-dependent click; some monsters use attacks that force you away from just mindlessly mashing your ‘do big damage now’ spell; and…

Oh. That’s about it. This is where the ‘no’ comes into play. The gameplay really does limp over the line that separates sequel from previous. And there are very few actual improvements to the game that was launched over a decade ago. There are ‘Events’ that you can trigger during maps at random times, but all they really ask you to do is kill things in a slightly different way than normal. Most of the skills available to players are almost exactly the same, or play no different, to skills they used in D2. The graphics are updated, but not to any mind blowing extent. In fact, one complaint amongst players has been that there used to be more different character models for when players are using different armour/weapons. And the thing is, when a game so hyped, and so deserving of an innovative sequel is released with such a resounding thud, it begs the question of what the hell they were doing in all that time?

I can answer that question with an immediate, “Not building a server for Australian players, that’s what they were doing.” To sidestep for a moment, the lag issues for Australian players are absolutely horrible. Actually, to sidestep again, I should mention that the game itself, played through on the first difficulty is ridiculously easy. I don’t mean easy as in ‘I’ve played way too many games in my life so I can beat this one maybe a few hours before someone else’ easy. I mean easy as in ‘I could have made it through the entire game using only my left mouse button***’ easy. And the thing is, you have to finish each difficulty in its entirety to unlock each successive one; resulting in the need to complete the whole game four times to be able to say you’ve beaten it at its hardest. Four times! I didn’t even finish Chrono Trigger four times, and it’s the best game ever made. And you’re asking me to drudge my way through the same gameplay in the same environments with the same enemies doing the same attacks four times? It’s ludicrous. Especially when, by all accounts, the hardest difficulty is impossibly hard, requiring the kind of chances of loot pickup that would make even a casino feel a bit guilty (remember this, it’s kind of important later). To sidestep back to that comment about Australian servers, I should note that the only time my character died during my time playing the game was when lag kicked in and I was forced to wait patiently for the few seconds it took for the data to catch up from the Blizzard servers (in North America) to send my computer the bits and bytes that would result in the huge, condescending lettering filling the screen and letting me know I died. And here, finally, we come to the importance of being online.

One of the most decried features of D3 is its requirement that you be connected to the Internet in order to play it. This means that even when I am playing single player (as in by myself, without any intention of letting another player join my game) I am required by Blizzard to be connected to their servers. As a result of this, any action I make is sent whistling down the series of tubes that is the ‘net, arriving at Blizzard’s HQ where their software says ‘Cool, he’s not cheating’, performs the action on the monsters on the screen, then sends it back to me. It’s roughly a 250 millisecond round-trip, and it’s a hell of an unreliable one. But! says Blizzard, it’s for the safety of the players. And I can see their point in this. After all, cheaters kill online games. People who hack in unimaginably powerful items, or go around killing other players without themselves being able to be killed are generally the sort of people you want to keep out of your system. But, and this is a very important but, I cannot see the point in enforcing this kind of digital rights management to the detriment of legitimate players. Literally every click I make is accompanied by a 250ms gap. This may not seem like much, but it is enough to be noticeable and it gets very old, very quick. Especially when that 250ms can vary up to around 10 seconds, or worse, to an extent where Blizzard’s servers drop you and poof! just like that, you’ve lost all the progress on the quest you were taking. It is frustrating to an epic degree to have to repeat a level in a video game due to circumstances outside of your control. And with a game like D3, where it’s not like there’s good dialogue or some clever gameplay elements to help you back through that part that you have to redo, it’s an even greater piss off.

Now here’s where, in a normal essay, I’d have to think really hard about an overarching reason why all of this happened to a game that so many expected to be great. Why is the storyline so needless? Why is the gameplay so similar to the previous games in its comparison to pokeys and the addiction psychology of random chance and reward? Why is the first playthrough difficulty so easy, while the final playthrough difficulty is apparently so frustratingly hard that it requires a dependence on item drops, not skill, to make it through? I would have to think really hard, but finally, Blizzard have made something easy for me. They’ve already provided a plausible reason for all these flaws, and it’s called the Real Money Auction House. The Real Money Auction House (RMAH) is a devilishly clever little bit of design that is plugged straight into the D3 interface. It allows players to buy and sell virtual items they find in the game world for real cash. Of which Blizzard takes a cut.

I don’t want to sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist (although I fear that’s going to happen regardless) but if I wanted to design a game that a) maximised the uptake of players willing to pay real money get the best items in-game, as well as b) encourage those playing the game to keep playing it over and over again to generate those items to be sold, and c) keep hackers from spawning items and ruining an economy…well, how would I design that game?

I don’t think I could do a better job than what Blizzard have done.

*’Drop’ is, perhaps, the wrong word to use here, as they fling upwards in a hilarious, unphysical arc reminiscent of bad guys dying in Spaghetti Western movies, to land on the blood-soaked ground and reveal their rarity/item type. As a side note, I believe it’s this fling millisecond-long pause between killing and receiving the reward that contributes to the sense of anticipation and therefore to the sense of just-one-more kill.

**Re-specialise: Player characters in D3 have a pool of skills that they can use six from at any one time. This means that different players that have the same character class (there are only 5: Barbarian, Wizard, Witch Doctor, Demon Hunter, and Monk)  can have vastly different skill sets selected.

***Actually, there’s no disclaimer here. It’s that fucking easy.

Goals

 

Today’s post isn’t

contest related, so feel free to tune out if you’re only here for the cash dollaz (although if you are a writer, perhaps you should be at the submission page rather than reading my ramblings). As those who follow my Twitter-self may know, I’ve been applying for jobs over on the East coast of Australia for around six months now, with not so much as an interview to reward my persistence so far. It’s been affecting my ability to do the casual research work I’m currently being paid for a little bit, but thankfully I have people like Lucy to cheer me up when I vent my frustrations into the thrumming social media void:

My problem is, of course, experience. In that I apparently have none, despite my four years of near-constant scientific analysis performed during my Ph.D. project. The attitude of industrial and, to a certain extent, university research positions is that you must have some degree of experience in a laboratory when applying for their positions.  Oh, but the huge number of hours you spent performing and demonstrating laboratories, preparing samples for experiments at national and international facilities, or stuck in front of a computer analysing ream after ream of barely-parsed machine code? They don’t count. No, you need to have at least a year or two up your sleeve doing the kind of laboratory work that would be made redundant by robots in a second if those lab monkeys decided to union up and protest the ridiculously low wages they are paid on graduation from some of the hardest bachelor degrees available.

Ahem. Sorry about that; getting a little ranty. Anyway, my point is that I’m getting nowhere fast, and it’s a bit of a downer. I have occasionally received good feedback from HR departments stating that I was within the top 10%, had a good resume, etc. but apparently I need to spend a couple of years deadening my (already dangerously low) passion for science doing the scientific equivalent of a brickie’s labourer*.

Oh goodness, there I go again.

Okay, staying on topic this time. The point of this post was to talk about goals, and how I don’t generally make them and how I’m trying to make them now. The source of this sudden focus is (like many good things) the bro-tastic Laurie Steed, in the form of a book called ‘Where Will You Be 5 Years From Today?’. It’s one of those dream-big-make-progress-not-quite-self-improvement kind of books, where by you fill in a bunch of fields and end up coming up with a set of goals to work towards. It’s a bit twee, with quotes from everyone who’s ever said something about life flitting about on each page, and cute little graphics emphasising points in bold duo- or tri-colour. But despite this, it’s possible to use it for good rather than mockery. Which is what Louise and I did one night last week. Just sat down and went through the first half of the book, answering as honestly as we could.

The results were surprising, but also not. Both of us obviously have a passion for creative endeavours, and that showed through in our top long-term goals (her: art exhibition, me: novel/collection). But what was surprising was that neither of us really had any real desire to pursue our chosen careers with any kind of vigour. Nor did our long-term goals involve any kind of material gain. In fact, both of us were pretty thoroughly sick of the idea of careers and 9-5 jobs and managers and bosses and climbing the ladder. And we are both rational enough to know that these kinds of feelings are to be expected: no-one actually likes working for the man.

But what was interesting was that, for the first time ever, we actually sat down and thought through what the alternatives might be. Things like starting a small business, or working part-time. Business proposals, grant funding, freelance writing, selling art online, and so on and so forth. And what was even more interesting was that, keeping a rational head on our shoulders, some of these options started to seem feasible. I’m not talking big money feasible, but keeping-your-head-above-water feasible. Which is not to say we’re rushing into anything crazy with idealistic stars in our eyes, but it certainly has given us both something to think about. I guess the take home message is that goal-setting is something that not a lot of us really do in a meaningful way, and it can really help focus you towards pathways that you didn’t think were possible.

And now I think I’d better go before I start raving on about personal journeys and asking the universe to give me a sports car.

*Not that I mind labouring. I quite enjoyed my time in Kalgoorlie and would likely do it again if the chance arose.

Midway

I meant to

post this last week, but found myself engulfed in all sorts of activities (such as power karaoke with Laurie, S.J., Liz, et al). In any case, we’re now over halfway through the entry window for the toothsoup prize and so far I’ve seen a grand total of four (4) entries hit my inbox! Not a bad turnout, but given that the prize kitty has jumped from a relatively paltry $50 to a rather immodest $85, I’d love to see more flooding in. It’s a handy little sum, and pretty good odds if you’re of the gambling persuasion.

So what are you waiting for? Hit up the submission form and get your entry in!

Contest

I have an

exciting announcement for those of you who a) write, b) live in Australia, and c) love the colour yellow when applied to the interior of your wallets. I am totally psyched to reveal the toothsoup prize! The toothsoup prize is a contest open to all Australian short story writers of any genre wishing to submit an original work of 1,000 to 2,000 words.

You can read more about the motivations of the prize at the contest website, and see the submissions guidelines at the submishmash page. The prize is that of cash money–at least $50 of it–which may increase based on contributions from submitters or donors alike. It’s open for a month starting from today and, while I don’t often ask for it, with this one I’d appreciate any link-sharing, tweeting, pingbacks, etc. that you can offer.

Good luck to all contestants!

Stable

I’m typing with

numb fingers, their club-like mashings a direct result of the final few frantic days over in Kalgoorlie. I expect they’ll be back to normal in a week or so, but for now they both look and feel like Frankenstein’s monster. Thankfully this is the last I’ll have to endure their transfiguration into clumsy tingle machines. Instead, they’ll be working in concert with my five-year-old laptop (almost to the day; love you buddy) to trawl scientific literature for the current state of clay. I can’t say much more than that due to confidentiality agreements, IP, etc., but it seems to be an interesting project with a decent pay package. And more importantly, it’s part-time. Which means I can continue to look for jobs and try and boost my resume on my days off. Because as of now, I’m around twelve for zero in turning job applications into interviews. Needless to say I’m rather frustrated with the process, but since I’ve already banged on about the topic so much I shan’t go into it again.

Oh, and I’m also planning something super nice for the 9th anniversary of my blogging habit on the 18th of April. Hard to believe I’ve occasionally ranted into a blank, white space for that long. Although when I put it like that, it doesn’t sound like too much of a task. Anyway, I’m just trying to get the details written up in a nice format, possibly on a different website, and I’ll make the announcement through various twitter outlets. It won’t change the world, but it might change a morning every now and again (so cryptic!).

That’s about it for now, really. Apologies for the mini-entry, but since I’ve only been back in Perth for a day or so there’s not too much to report. I’ll be back in the habit a bit more often as my nerve endings slowly recover.

 

photo by: shehal