warning: text ahead
I’ve been burying myself in a lot of RPGs/Strategy games from the mid-late 90s and early 00s lately; partially out of wanting to unbacklog some old things, partially wanting to stay to older works in general, and partially looking for games that did something interesting/unique instead of trying to be The Best X That Ever Was. Sitting with the ability to read Japanese has opened up a lot of options that weren’t there whenever I was in the mood for this in the past. (see Dimguil thread. also ran the original Oreshika, remind me to say things on that game sometime! it’s super weird)
And, well, it’s probably obvious that I’m not a fan of a lot of the games in those genres that I’ve tried in recent years. Like, XCOM is a game I wish I liked, but generally find boring rather than interesting, and I’ve wanted to come to terms with why I feel this way in a more specific sense than I already had.
Mostly, in the end, I feel like it comes down towards how it approaches two related aspects of the player’s choices: The savegame method, and how to approach hidden information.
Many games developed in the lineage coming from desktop computers generally relied on save-anywhere load-anywhere as a main feature, and were largely designed around this being a main option. The old Ultima series was a big offender here, essentially making the tedium of dealing with a dead party member too much to bear for most of the game, but I think it extends to newer games like the aforementioned modern XCOM as well. But where it’s just tedium with one, it’s something more frustrating with the other.
Hidden information is generally approached as a way of giving you things to learn that are not directly the mechanics that are in front of you. For example, you can define this as what the stats and capabilities of enemies are. But also, in terms of strategy games, where they spawn, what their AI is, and so forth. Basically it’s what the game expresses to learn the game beyond the game and modify your gameplan to match.
But, far too often, this is used as a replacement for interesting gameplay. You lost! Because you didn’t know thing XYZ, and now you do, and now you can play again. But because the consequences of not knowing what just happened has had lasting effects on your game, you have a choice between reloading a savegame, or trying to play out a game that is largely designed around you reloading your savegame when something you don’t know about kills you.
These games often can be played Ironman-style, and there’s often an encouragement to do so, but it’s not really designed into the game as something you should do as a primary way of playing, and I believe it shows as, outside of really wanting to prove something, most players will value their own time consumption over the game’s willingness to throw hidden curveballs at the player’s face.
I always tended to have a stronger interest in simulation games because they tended to be less about concrete paths and goals to follow and more about trying to make do with what you have, even in the face of loss. Is it less or more stressful or challenging? I don’t know, but I wanted to answer these questions. Usually the failure state is a little fuzzier and more “you spend more time” than direct loss, until you hit the full ‘welp, starting over’ mark. I think the original X-Com falls into this camp pretty well, aside from getting your base invaded, you have a lot of flexibility and ability to rebound.
One reason I’ve been spending a lot of time with Wizardry-likes is that the original game was designed around autosaved gameplay. Back in 1981, even! That’s some absolutely amazing stuff to think about, because it’s almost unheard of even today. No reloading when things go south, you take the hand you’re dealt.
In it, there is no such thing as an unwinnable game, because status of the game’s progression is stored either globally for all characters, or individually on each character. For example, opening the second elevator in the first Wizardry is permanent and global, but the defeat of the last boss counts on a per character basis and you will need new characters if you want to re-challenge. Later games expanded on this concept (Dimguil included!), leading to the sort of strange system where every party is effectively its own timeline.
While it’s not really the perfect implementation, I also think it’s incredibly forward-thinking for its time and more games could see fit to emulate the idea of the true failure state being the player’s unwillingness to continue, rather than the game deciding that the game is over for you. At least, that’s my opinion.
this is just late night ramblings brought on by way too much thinking, don’t mind me