Baldur's Gate: Killing Me Hardly and Repeatedly

I played a little D&D in my time. I have no outstanding memories or funny anecdotes from those sessions. I just remember that creating a character took a reeeally long time. And advancing your character took a reaaaaally long time. In regards to that, Baldur's Gate does not disappoint.

Expo98 and one if it's feet splashing things.

Baldur's Gate was released in 1998 by Interplay, forged by the creative minds at Bioware. I was too young to be interested at the time, even more so considering the blandness of the cover. Yes, I was a shallow little thing back then. More busy splashing my feet at the international fair and enjoying the sunshine with my equally shallow friends than actually delve into a story-rich AD&D based RPG. For shame.

A few years back I found one of those 4-in-1 boxes containing BG, it's expansion and BG2 and it's expansion in a bargain bin. I bought it, went home and shoved it in a shelf. It's just one of those things that a gamer just knows he/she has to have. It's a piece of history. Doesn't mean I ever played it.

Flashforward to a few days ago. I had just finished my second run through Dragon Age II and I was reading a lot about how it was dumbed-down, how it was a stain on BioWare's pristine record. So I decided to start from the beggining and picked said box from the bottom of the shelf, jumped through some hoops and some loops to get it installed and running and gave it a go.

You know how they say that games today just hold your hand through them from start to finish? Well, Baldur's Gate takes your hand and slaps you around with it.

Take Dragon Age II, for example (it's the only example that comes to mind actually, what with me having played so much of it recently). From the moment you gain control of your character you are presented with a tutorial phase and every action you can take is explained in detail by an intrusive oversized square on the top right corner of the screen. If you're unlucky (or Mike) you'll keep getting these tutorials when you're midway through the game. Bugs suck. My point being that the interface is explained step by step so you know what you're doing and what every single button has to offer.

Baldur's Gate starts off by telling you your short life's story. You're an orpahn raised by this mage person. And now he says you have to go so... go buy shit. Suit up. Gird your loins. Things of that nature, generally. The interface is pilfered with icons you won't at first recognise with what little old spoiled me took as a RTFM statement. It was strangely refreshing. I consider myself intelligent enough to, within 30 seconds of picking up a new game, realise that the analog stick is for moving. Baldur's Gate gives you credit and is merely littered with other mage like characters that explain to you what basics of AD&D you might not be familiar with.



Killing you in the streets.
Quite literally.



So I start walking around, performing minor tasks like locating rats and destroying books (or was it the other way around) and finally I decide to proceed with the plot and leave town. After the untimely demise of my adoptive father I am reunited with my childhood friend, Imoen. This is quite possibly the most annoyingly-voiced character in the game but she has quite the fan base so I might as well shut up about it right now.

After this point you are told... just about nothing. There are a few people waiting for you in a tavern up north and way further up north there's the city of Baldur's Gate. At this point you might suddenly remember the name of the game so you figure Baldur's Gate, with a quick detour to pick up a few party members, seems to be a good choice. But you can't get to Baldur's Gate; there be bandits on the roads.

You're basically free to go do whatever you want while picking up one deranged mage after the other. There is a defined plot but it's not as straight forward as what we're used to these days and the journal is more like, say, a journal than actually a handy indexed summary of available quests.

After eight or some hours of play I dinged level 2. It was quite a shock. Not that it took eight hours but the fact I hadn't noticed eight hours had gone by. Not that I didn't work my ass off for that level. Believe you me, I did. I must've died some 20 times and "cheated" my way through the first boss I encontered in a mine. Games today make progression seem much easier. You are rewarded with a new level and the chance to further customize your character within the first hour os so of gameplay. Not only because it makes you feel like the time you've spent so far has actually accomplished something but it also gives them the chance to throw another tutorial at you. The Leveling Up tutorial. Once I leveled up, I didn't get to choose anything. Or maybe I got to allocate another point in weapon proficiencies. I can't remember.

What I can remember is this. Baldur's Gate is fucking hard. Thank the Maker for that quick-save button. It makes every battle count. Every pack of wolves I mowed down made me feel better about myself. Every pack of kobolds that interrupted my nap in the wilderness was a worthy challengeto my skills.

'Make no mistake,' the game yells at you. 'This game is about you. If you die, I'm outta here no matter what pansy ass minions of yours might still toil against my evil spawn. You're the hero. Deal with it.'

Baldur's Gate has battered me into submission. I've been spoiled by these new fangled ressurection spells and lenient combat engines. BG slaps you around with a trout until you realise that you're in the big leagues. In the words of someone who once commented on the importability of Shepard from Mass Effect 2 to 3 in case he had died: "As in real life, the main downside to death is the inability to keep on living." I know what game taught them that.

Ultima Online: The MO Experience

I keep telling people that the first mmo I played was WAR. This is not entirely accurate. WAR was the only one that I played actively for more than a few months and paid substantially to do so. But before it, there were others.

The issue came about as Mike and I, when we weren't yet sharing a dwelling, were looking for something to play together on those long winter nights. Or perhaps it was the summer or the middle of spring. Regardless of the season, we spent our nights alone and, for avid gamers such as ourselves, regular chat facilitators just weren't cutting it. So we delved in the realm of F2P mmos. We spent a lot of time playing on a Ragnarok Online server but, after a while, we got bored of that too. So the three of us (for yes, there was a third person to our party) decided to try something different.

Mike had been an avid UO player in his younger years and we heard numerous stories of great times had by him and his crew. So we decided to give it a go.

Since that time, however, every computer I had used to play it has met an unfortunate demise, envolving heat, beeping (supposedly from the motherboard who did not appreciate said heat) and, in some extreme cases, an axe. Meaning that all screenshots I might have taken during that time went with them. Luckily not all computers met with equally gruesome fates and some shots of screens were saved allowing us to reminisce about the good times we had.



Me being returned half my shit after I died



One of the few things I remember about UO is the backpack. I remember my inventory was much like my own bag in real life. There weren't (as there aren't) any defined spaces for you to put things. As long as you're physically able to lift it up and carry it about you can go crazy. I'm sad that this concept was lost. No matter how inconvenienced I may be, I would like to be restricted from carrying around 42 halberds as easily as I would 42 trinkets. It just makes more sense. And sense adds to immersion. And immersion adds to... hours flying by while you play.

One other thing that I remember the game doing right was the option of taming your own horse. In recent games (read WAR and Rift, dunno about all the others) everybody is "born" with the ability to ride a horse and I get that. All these characters were probably born in a stable anyway, given the setting they're spawned into. But if riding an equine/bear/insect/turtle is such a basic skill, couldn't we also be given the chance of taming the beasts ourselves? I mean, that's more content to entertain us right there, right? I'm not saying remove mount vendors completely but at least give us the option to bypass them. And crafting! You could actually gain muscle mass by mining. I didn't get much for my time spent crafting in Rift except a bag full of burlap shoes I was never going to wear. After all that sewing I could've at least earned some dexterity points, no?

Horse taming amidst corpses of some sort.



In time we retreated back to Ragnarok. I think we all missed the first M (the one that stands for Massive) since there were only three of us playing at the same time in that particular server. But I'll never forget a few things we did there.

One day, I was so in character that I suggested we "go talk over there, so we can sit down on those benches." Only once or twice did I feel like moving my doll around to a more comfortable position during my two years of playing WAR and I never even sat down in Rift. It says a lot that, after only about a week in the game I was so lost in it that I was looking for agreeable places to have a chat in.

UO wasn't and isn't perfect but a lot of people loved it for very good reasons. If I understand this sandbox concept well (which, I'm afraid, Is still a bit alien to me) this was a good example of it and one that captivated and entranced many. It was a good game and many people miss something remotely like it. Most likely, recent games like it exist but just aren't public enough for lil' old me to know of them.

Where'd He Go? D:

Where'd my Buffalax go?

Buffalax was my youtube hero. Apparently Bollywood took him down due to some petty copyright infringement bullshit.

This was the worst news I had all week.