If you've played games like Team Fortress 2 or the Portal titles, you know that Valve loves making players learn. The company's already got a foothold in bringing their games into the educational space and that commitment's going to get bigger.
Today, at the Games for Change conference, Valve's Leslie Redd and Yasser Malaika announced that they'll be giving away their hit game Portal 2 for free, via the new Steam for Schools initiative. After signing up for a beta, educators will be able to get the popular sequel, the recently launched Perpetual Testing Initiative level maker and sample levels. Students making levels won't be able to share levels outside of a physical classroom, though. For more info, head over to learnwithportals.com
Since the release of the first Pokémon role-playing game in 1996, Nintendo and The Pokémon Company have attempted to capitalize on the success of the core series by overlaying its colorful cartoon characters on other genres. Thanks in no small part to the power of the brand, Pokémon pinball, puzzle, turn-based dungeon crawlers and more have all enjoyed at least a modicum of success.
Pokémon Conquest presents the strangest melding yet, combining the whimsical menagerie with Tecmo Koei's long-running turn-based Japanese historical war game series Nobunaga's Ambition. In a classic Trojan horse maneuver, the series that never quite gained a significant foothold in the West is slipping inside a giant wooden Eevee, ready to take North America by surprise.
I certainly didn't see it coming.
When Nintendo announces a new game in the Pokémon series proper it's cause for celebration, despite the fact that the gameplay hasn't really changed much since the first title hit Japan in 1996. Why mess with a winning formula? That's what Pokémon spinoffs are for.
The reaction to a new side story in the Pokémon universe is quite different.
The Five Stages of Pokémon Spinoff Reaction
1. Excitement — There's a new Pokémon game!
2. Confusion — Wait, this isn't a Pokémon game...
3. Dismissal — What a stupid idea.
4. Reconsideration — But it does have Jigglypuff on the cover...
5. Submission — Oh fine, I'll buy it.
Developer: Tecmo Koei
Platforms: DS (played on 3DS)
Released: June 18
Type of game: Tactical Strategy Role-Playing
What I played: Finished the main campaign in 14 hours, saving tons of post-campaign content for a rainy month.
Two Things I Loved
Two Things I Hated
Made-to-Order Back-of-Box Quotes
This formula holds especially true with Pokémon Conquest. My initial reaction to the news that I would be catching cartoon versions of historical Japanese warlords that do battle with bonded pocket monsters was to stare at the announcement for several minutes, head cocked to the side like a dog hearing a sound it doesn't understand. How could two such wildly disparate properties possibly work in tandem?
Initially they don't.
Playing through the few hours with Pokémon Conquest I was acutely aware of these two properties attempting to merge into one. I had trouble understanding why there were Pokémon in my strategy war game; they felt completely unnecessary; a layer floating above the game I wanted to play keeping me from achieving focus.
It doesn't help that the back story of the game is so flimsy. Pokémon Conquest takes place in the feudal Japan-styled Ransei Region, where legends speak of a mystical creator Pokémon that will bestow absolute power on the warlord that unites the nation under his or her banner. The player recruits Pokémon-bonded hero to their cause and launches a campaign to do just that. Unfortunately the legendary Japanese warlord Oda Nobunaga has caught wind of this legend as well, giving players a rival much worthier than Professor Oak's grandson.
So we know our goal, but what we don't know is much of anything about the land we're fighting for. How did the warlords of Ransei come to partner with Pokémon, strengthening their bonds through battle? Why do these warlords sit on the sidelines, letting their little critters do the work for them? How did they develop the powers that allow them to enhance their creatures, granting them special skills in battle?
This lack of fictional depth punctuates the feeling that this is another game painted over with Pokémon.
It's a feeling that doesn't last, fortunately. After about five hours I was so involved with managing my troops, planning attacks, and defending against possible enemy incursions that there was no more room in my mind to worry about the disconnect.
While not quite as deep as a proper Nobunaga game, conquering Pokémon Conquest requires a fair amount of strategic planning and forward thinking. There are 17 kingdoms in the Ransei Region, each based on an elemental Pokémon grouping, each with its own weaknesses and strength. It's not enough to place a squad of fighting Pokémon warlords in the path of a psychic one; you've also got to prepare for the possibility that a rock warlord is waiting around the corner to strike when the next month-turn comes around.
It's in these preparation stages that Pokémon Conquest is at its best. I was an ancient military commander standing over an unfurled map, imperiously directing my forces with the tap of the stylus.
Unfortunately the depth of planning makes the simplicity of actual battle more pronounced. Despite dynamic battlegrounds filled with traps, pitfalls, and moving parts, Pokémon Conquest battles are turn-based tactics at their most basic. Individual Pokémon have a single attack they can perform that's success is measured by the relation of their opponent's element against their own. It's a simple matter of attacking units with more powerful or elemental opposite units until the battle is won. Special circumstances required to recruit fallen warlords (usually defeating them within four turns) add a bit of tension, but otherwise there's really not much to it.
I suppose that's the way it is in battle, really. Months of planning leading to quick and bloody skirmish. I just wish there was more here.
The game could use a little more Pokémon in its conquest as well. Fans of the core series might be disappointed that their boon companions are reduced to little more than living artillery in a battle between rival Warlords. There's no Pokémon-specific skill management. There are wild Pokémon to battle, but instead of joining your merry band (as rival warlords do) they simply fall, sacrificed in the name of increasing the bond between your soldiers and their weapons (note that warlords can bond with wild Pokémon; it's just not the same). During the course of the story a character comments that they've heard of a strange land where Pokémon are carried about in balls. The game could use more balls.
What Pokémon Conquest lacks in balls it makes up for in content. The expansive single-player campaign easily spans a dozen or more hours, and once it's done even more campaigns are unlocked. With the addition of promised downloadable content, this is a game that could keep DS or 3DS in business for months to come.
The concept of Pokémon Conquest is completely absurd yet somehow, in the grand tradition of whack television sitcoms, "It sounds crazy but it just might work" actually worked. Pokémon's rock-paper-scissors element mechanic makes the complicated strategy of Nobunaga's Ambition easier to manage, while the delightful complexity of Tecmo Koei's strategy game adds layers of depth to an otherwise shallow property. The end result is one of the best series crossovers I've ever played, the perfect game for the aging Pokémon fan looking for a more challenging experience without losing the cuddly pink things.
Touchy Interactive's retro-styled iOS games has you controlling two soldier types who bust out of some kind of imprisonment. Red Dude and Blue Dude need to make their way through various levels of an enemy base, all of them heavily guarded, of course. But aside from the generic pew-pew guns, this twosome can wield the power of misdirection.
Split!'s main mechanic involves you moving one primary colored soldier gut into cover to draw attention and weapons fire from a white-masked enemy so that his partner can take them out from another position. As long as an enemy's obsessed with trying to keep Red Dude or Blue Dude pinned town, the counterpart Dude can move freely within said enemy's field of vision.
It might help to think of Split as the shrunken 2D Ikari Warriors-style baby of Army of Two and Gears of War. In those games, hiding behind cover and drawing enemy attention were the key mechanics, alongside trigger-happy shooting action. But, here, you're creating your own stealth opportunities instead of aiming or managing ammo.
Things get complicated by roving patrols, doors that require tandem unlocking and other obstacles that crop up as you move along. Split! Manages to generate a unique tension all its own and makes you feel deadly and clever. Just like your therapist always says, you're your own best ally. Split! proves the ol' head-shrinker right.
Split! [$0.99, App Store]
Addressing criticisms of her piece about PR sexism at E3, writer Katie Williams has posted a sharp, well-reasoned follow-up on her blog. Go read it! [Alive Tiny World]
Addressing criticisms of her piece about PR sexism at E3, writer Katie Williams has posted a sharp, well-reasoned follow-up on her blog. Go read it! [Alive Tiny World]
I was going through the final unused pieces of my E3 reporting and realized I never posted this video. It's nothing big, but it was one of my favorite sights at E3. Just a person in a giant LittleBigPlanet Sackboy costume. Later, I happened to walk by a rest area outside the PlayStation area. Sackboy's head was off, resting in the hallway. I glanced in the rest area and saw someone standing in the rest of the costume. It turns out that the role of Sackboy was being played by a woman.
Welcome to Kotaku's official forum, known affectionately as Talk Amongst Yourselves. This is the place where we gather on a daily basis to discuss all things video game and existential. Want to talk about new games, old games, games that aren't even out yet? Knock yourselves out!
Is this painting a representation of the Gods? Of fertility? Nope. kaploy9's twist on "Spring" is even cooler (and oddly fitting): It's a nudge to Super Smash Bros..
You can do funny things with pictures, right? Want everyone on this fine web forum to see? Here's what you do. Post your masterpieces in the #TAYpics thread. Don't forget to keep your image in a 16x9 ratio if you want a slice of Talk Amongst Yourselves glory. Grab the base image here. Don't forget to keep your image in a 16x9 ratio if you want a slice of TAY glory. The best ones will be featured in future installments of Talk Amongst Yourselves.
Check out this official promo art from New Super Mario Bros. 2, which Nintendo will release for 3DS this August.
Pretty, no? Everything just seems better in gold. More regal. More... gold.
(via TinyCartridge)
Bad enough I got drafted into Steel Battalion's janky, totally unplayable war, but what made things worse was having to fight alongside a guy with pee-covered hands. Oh, and another guy who apparently likes having unholy relations with Vertical Tanks.
The moment captured above happens in Steel Battalion's tutorial and it stuck out to me the very first time I played. I understand times are rough during post-apocalyptic wartime but, dammit, good hygiene could just save your life. Also, if you're not going to wash your hands after peeing on them, keep your apples* to yourself, soldier boy.
I just watched this video again before posting and noticed that the other squad member who's sitting in the Vertical Tank looks like he's humping it. Thank God that's not a gesture that you'll need to do in the game.
*BTW, developers, if you're going to go there, they really should have been Golden Delicious apples…
You are, presumably, a person who plays video games and probably not a rich executive. Maybe you own an Xbox 360 or play games on your iPhone or maybe both.
You have some favorite video games. And there are some series and some types of games that you hate. Maybe you keep up with gaming news on a site like Kotaku. You have an ordinary life, probably. A good one, hopefully. But you're not a wealthy Chief Operating Officer, and you might not be able to relate to all of the hopes and fears of the average COO.
When Peter Moore, COO of Electronic Arts talks, what he is saying could affect you. It's even sort of about you. It's about the games you might play in the future and the way you might play them. But it's also about how the things you might say make a COO feel. That part, you might be able to relate to. The part about where the COO thinks games are going? That's the part that might make your head spin.
EA, of course, makes Madden and Mass Effect and The Sims and Battlefield and Bejeweled and so much more. They're about as massive as it gets in gaming and what they want to do will affect a lot of gamers.
I'm about to dump a whole lot of Peter Moore on you, but I've got to set this up first. Moore is an amiable executive who, in a previous incarnation as a top marketing guy at Microsoft, would roll up his sleeves to reveal tattooed logos of whichever major game he was about to hype. He's frank enough in interviews to say that a key product his company is currently offering might need two more years of tinkering before it's excellent. He's relatable enough that this middle-aged, English executive can precede his latest interview with me, conducted a couple of weeks ago in Los Angeles at E3 with a discussion about West Coast rap. He's mortal enough that he admits a weakness for reading all the comments under articles about EA and internalizing the harshest criticism. This is a Rorschach blot of a sentence, but let's give it a shot: He genuinely seems to care.
I'd interviewed Moore many times before we spoke at E3 but was eager to again to follow-up on a rant of his that I had witnessed while visiting EA's Los Angeles campus in May. He'd ranted then, in front of reporters, about how day-one downloadable content, micro-transactions and other aspects of modern gaming were here to stay, how gamers needed to cut EA some slack and how he did not think it was cool at all that his company had been called "cynical bastards." (That last one was a reference to the creator of Minecraft, Markus "Notch" Persson, snarking on EA's promotion of an "indie game" bundle when the company started promoting a discount bundle of several indie-developed games that EA had partnered with and published. EA = indie? It's a $4 billion company, one of the industry's largest.)
"We're going through, as an industry, just an unbelievably difficult transformation, that is not from one business model to another but from one business model to a myriad of different business models," Moore said to me as we chatted in L.A.
Business models. Not the sexiest of topics. We were definitely in the realm of Things COOs Care About. But it does involve you, so bear with me.
"It is a very interesting period," he said. "And I"ll say interesting period in our industry's history when the conventional wisdom of 'We're going through a console transition and, when the new consoles come out, everything is going to be fine again', is no longer the case. Consoles are still going to be a very important part of what we do. But so are browsers. So are iOS devices. So are Android mobile phones. So are PCs, which are feeling a renaissance. It's all coming together in this potpourri..."
OK, stop again. A little more context is needed. The mood of my chat with Moore was the mood of much of E3. Many game creators and business people with whom I spoke seemed tired of this generation of gaming and said they felt gamers were ready to move on. Some, of course, are excited about selling games to the huge numbers of people who own Xbox 360s now rather than to the relatively tiny number of people who will own a next-gen Xbox in, say, the fall of 2013 when that machine is just getting started. But coming in from the sides, breaching the walls of the hardcore gamer's paradise that is E3 are the Zyngas and the Apples, the people making games for Facebook and iPad and Android. Companies like EA have been branching out to all of those fresh areas, just as they've been trying out new or imported business models—making their games free-to-play (you download the game for free and pay for gameplay-relevant upgrades and/or cosmetic items later); selling downloadable expansions even on the day a game launches, and so on.
Overall, there's a sense of confusion as to what is really going to take hold, whether one form of gaming—primarily the $60 console game—is going to be dominant in the future. Hell, you're about to hear from a COO who raises the question of even how relevant the $60 console game will be. In fact, let's get to that part now:
Kotaku: "How do you balance the effectiveness of any microtransaction-based game design or business model with the anxiety a gamer might feel that they're being nickel and dimed?"
Moore: "I think, ultimately, those microtransactions will be in every game, but the game itself or the access to the game will be free. Ultimately, my goal is... I measure our business in millions of people have bought our game. Maybe when I'm retired, as this industry progresses, hundreds of millions are playing the games. Zero bought it. Hundreds of millions are playing. We're getting 5 cents, 6 cents ARPU [average revenue per user] a day out of these people. The great majority will never pay us a penny which is perfectly fine with us, but they add to the eco-system and the people who do pay money—the whales as they are affectionately referred to—to use a Las Vegas term, love it because to be number one of a game that like 55 million people playing is a big deal."
Kotaku: "You're saying inevitably all games are going to be that model?"
Moore: "I think there's an inevitability that happens five years from now, 10 years from now, that, let's call it the client, to use the term, [is free.] It is no different than... it's free to me to walk into The Gap in my local shopping mall. They don't charge me to walk in there. I can walk into The Gap, enjoy the music, look at the jeans and what have you, but if I want to buy something I have to pay for it."
Kotaku: "I understand how that would work for Madden. I can't imagine how that would work for a Mass Effect. That's a storyline game."
Moore: "That's the point. If the business model... what do you do? It may well be that there will be games that survive and they are the $60 games, but I believe that the real growth is bringing billions of people into the industry and calling them gamers. Hardcore gamers won't like to hear this. They like to circle the wagons around what they believe is something they feel they have helped build—and rightly so. But we have seen, whether it was with the Wii getting mom off the couch to do Wii Sports or whether it was, more recently EA Sports Active, where we get females who love to work out, all the things that social gaming did—Rock Band did it, Guitar Hero did it—all of the things that elevated it from being a dark art of teenage boys usually sequestered in the bedroom—that it was testosterone-filled content that everybody railed against—to where everybody is a gamer...if you can move your index finger and swipe it this way, your'e a gamer. And that has got to be the way it goes."
You really could have called this E3 the anxiety E3, the E3 when people wondered and even worried about what was coming next. But why confine that to E3? The feeling's been rumbling for a while and there are people—younger gamers, I imagine—who might tell codgers like me who grew up playing Super Mario Bros. to get over it and embrace our free-to-play League of Legends era.
Anxiety?
A big gaming chain went out of business in Europe. So, here's Moore, cheering for the big chain in the U.S.: "We all love going to GameStop and chatting with the guys. You want these guys to stay in business. You've got to provide them with opportunities to play in digital, otherwise they become Blockbuster. Otherwise they become Tower Records. "
Under threat?
Moore: "We can't end up being music." (I'll get back to that one.)
Peter Moore, the polished COO, gives the impression of a man who is bushwacking, hacking at the reeds and swatting at the gnats, squinting at the sun while trying to find a clearing. And the last thing he yearns for now—though he likes constructive criticism—is what he thinks are unfair potshots.
Moore: "You've got this potpourri of things coming together in this fabulous kind of soup that we need to figure out as an industry... I just ask for patience. You know me pretty well. I read all of this stuff…. I think at times gamers need to understand that we need to work our way through this stuff. They need to be patient with us as we try to figure out what are the business models of the future. I am the chief operating officer of a company that has offices in 70 countries and is responsible for the employment of over 9000 very creative, hard-working talented people. And when you see the things—look, I know it's the Internet, I know it's anonymous…
Kotaku: "It's not all anonymous. Somebody with a name called you 'cynical bastards.' You referenced that [in an earlier speech]."
Moore: "I did. I took umbrage to that in front of you. I just read that story and, what we're referring to—I'm almost doing the interview for you—is the fact that we decided to help some indie developers and bundle some stuff up…"
Kotaku: "Right, those were partner games, right?"
Moore: "Yeah, these were Partner games. EA Partner games… before I even came to EA, I was in awe of what EA had done in terms of EA distribution and EA Partners, to get out there and help provide a platform of distribution for developers that just couldn't' put their stuff out on the market. We were the guys that would do that. I don't know of anybody else in this industry that's got the record that Electronic Arts have, way before I got here, welcoming stuff. Look, we do it to make money. No bones about it. But we do it so that we can share money and put games out in the market. And you can name a hundred of them that you know EA has published as an EAP or, previously, EAD operation. Probably the biggest one was Rock Band, which was an EAP title which we helped market. We worked with MTV and really helped that little bit of a social change to what gaming was all about. Yes I know Guitar Hero was there, but Rock Band became a bigger… that was an EAP title. So, the 'cynical bastard' thing, and, of course, because of who it was and it got so much coverage that I just thought: 'This is not right for the employees who have worked hard to put this together. My team at EAP had worked with these developers and said, 'let's just bundle this together and offer up a deal.'"
Kotaku: "Did you call Notch?"
Moore: "No. "
An EA spokesperson sitting nearby chimed in, pointing out that shortly after the "cynical bastards" incident, EA announced that EA would waive distribution fees for 90 days for any Kickstarter-funded games sold through its new PC service, Origin. A counter-measure to Origin's mighty competitor Steam? Probably. A boost for indies? Probably that, too.
It's weird to hear a COO to ask his customers for patience as his company dabbles with different business models. Moore will vigorously defend charging $10 extra for Mass Effect 3's day-one DLC, maintaining that the $60 base game was chock-full, but his answer as to why EA didn't charge for the day-one DLC for Mass Effect 2 is a meek: "We make individual decisions about individual games and individual business decisions with partners who are involved."
He certainly respects the enthusiasm of gamers. "There's no more passionate a fan of a medium than a gamer," he said. "People love movies. People like music. People love TV shows. Nobody loves their medium like gamers love their medium. I've always known that the tallest trees catch the most wind. That's a fact of life."
And he doesn't think his company should be spared harsh words. "None of us expect to be nor do we deserve to be immune to criticism."
But the patience he's begging for sounds like it could be, well, expensive or even just confusing, for gamers who wait for EA to figure out the best way to charge for its stuff.
"I want people to understand that what EA employees and the people who create the games are working hard to do is pick our way through this transformation as best we can," he said. "We're a publicly-traded company. We have an obligation to, quite frankly, make money so we can re-invest money in making great games again. The games you saw yesterday [at EA's E3 press-conference, games such as Dead Space 3 and Crysis 3] are, if you will, pre-paid by us from a development perspective. And it's only a year or a year and half down the road that we start to see that [money come back as people pay for the game]. That's why, to continue to do what we do and build the brands and build the business models, again, I'll ask for patience—the same way you covered me when I said we need 18 months for Origin and I still stand by that.
"We're just picking our way through and nobody is any way trying to gouge anybody. [Moore slaps hand on the table.] We're picking through this at the same time that gamers are trying to figure out what he or she likes about games in the future. and how much they want to spend and what platform they want to do it on and what other genres there are of the future. We're doing our best, alongside everybody else. "
Let's get back to the music thing. The upheaval of the music industry several years ago is surely what freaks out movie people and book people and, it seems, games people as well. Piracy, downloading and the Apple juggernaut changed everything. Who buys CDs any more? Who waits for albums?
Music is the spectre. So let's end on this last exchange:
Moore: "We've got to listen better as an industry, but at at the same time we've got to pick our way through these things. Stephen, we can't end up being music. Music used to make money selling music. They don't make money selling music anymore. Apple makes money selling music. God bless them, because they sorted out the problem that was BitTorrents and LimeWire, Kazaa..."
Kotaku: "My kitchen table is LimeWire's kitchen table, because they went out of business and my wife and I needed a new table."
Moore: "I remember going to a lot of going-out-of-business sales in 1999, south of Market, but this ability for us to learn from the lessons of music... Maybe we don't sell our games up front and it's all about [making money later]. Maybe it is like music. Music is now all about going on tour and concerts, go do corporate appearances, sell your merchandise, build your online website, find ways to do it that way, because they don't make much money after Apple takes its cut, and that's where most of us get our music.
"We're going to go through a similar trial and tribulation in the video game industry in which it's no longer about… we don't even see ourselves as a traditional publisher anymore. We're a digital entertainment company. And within that comes different ways we have to drive our revenue, keep our investors happy and make sure that w'ere providing compensation to our employees in the form of the stock price that they're happy with that is part of their equity package. And all of this is part of being a publicly-traded company."
Kotaku: "The glass-half-empty reporter would mention that you didn't just mention as one of your priorities: Make great video games."
Moore: "That's a given for EA. That's what we do."