Month: February 2020

West of Loathing – The Cows Came Home and They Have Beef with Us:

Now that we are in the new decade, everyone is looking towards the new console generations and new instalments to long running franchises. Here at Mind Games, I am more focused on just trying to pass my degree. I don’t tend to play the latest games or the big releases the moment that they come out, partly because I’m usually busy working on a coursework and partly because I like to wait for the price to drop before I buy (#Student Life).

So, when I’m looking for a new game to play, I tend to trawl the online stores looking for weird and whacky games that pique my curiosity. This is how I came across West of Loathing a few years back. As seen with the popularity of the Red Dead Redemption series, games set in the Wild West tend to draw a big audience. Ironically, the fascination with cowboys fizzles out quickly when you investigate their history and realise their lives were nowhere near the dramatic, high-stakes action that the media portray them as.

Check the bookshelf several times. Trust me.

I’m not going to spoil any of the plot as despite it being a slapstick comedy game, the storyline is quite intriguing, especially when you start to branch off and explore the side-quests that open as the game progresses. Plus, it’s always more fun to experience the jokes first-hand.

An RPG, set in a Wild West world, featuring turn-based combat and a series of odd side quests alongside the main story? Sounds like most RPG’s, so what makes this one different? Well, first things first, the art style is simplistic – so much so that it’s a series of stickmen, wearing goofy hats and hurling snakes at their enemies. I love it. It’s a satirical look at most RPG’s, from choosing classes, to levelling up skills and solving puzzles with non-sensical items.

Always practise safe TNT storage kids.

The moment you open the game, it grips you with its sense of humour. Most of the hours that I have sunk into this game, I have spent with a massive grin on my face. Instead of choosing from the traditional “Fighter, Magic User or Rogue” class archetypes, you have the choice of “Cow Puncher, Bean Slinger or Snake Oiler”. Which serve essentially the same functions but are a hundred times more hilarious to play as. Why wouldn’t you want to carry around a briefcase full of snakes and throw them into people’s faces?

Skills and traits are upgraded using experience points, but you can also discover new abilities by reading books (like the nerd you are) or meeting certain criteria. Want to increase your defence? Walk into cacti until your skin is mostly scabs. Want better resistance to heat, stench and cold damage? Stick your hand into various disgusting spittoons scattered around the west to permanently taint your hand with the remnants of other people’s spit. Delightful.

Hmm. Nothing seems abnormal here.

From busting ghosts and getting spooked by the ever present “Boo’s” in the DLC, to facing down the demon clowns leader and trying not to wet yourself when he throws knives at you in the main game, West of Loathing has so much content that it’s impossible to find everything on just one playthrough. Your choice of class, partner and even a few plot crucial decisions will set you down unique paths filled with hilarity, unique encounters and EVEN MORE SPITOONS. Word of warning though, the game will heavily judge you for digging around the insides of these metal cesspools.

The writing in this game is excellent. Every line of dialogue, every action and every item description has had careful thought put into it. The passion the developers at Asymmetric Publications have for their game is clear to see and is a joy to experience first-hand. They are keenly aware of some of the pitfalls that games can fall into as well as common tropes and clichés that many developers put into their works and manage to tackle these with a sense of humour. Any references to other game series or media franchises, are done with care and subtlety, rather than beating you over the head with them (or a cow bone).

I relate to the guy on the left.

More than anything, I love this game because it makes me laugh. A genuine, full body laugh that hurts your chest after a while. Mental health issues and stressful times means that I don’t get to laugh like that as much as I should. Depression especially tends to sap the humour and joy out of things that would normally elicit laughter from us, replacing it with numbness and general lethargy. It’s something that I have combatted for many years, yet this is the first game that I’ve come across that can consistently bring a genuine smile to my face. Not a fake smile to avoid worrying others or a half-hearted smile to try and fit in, a genuine grin. It’s a refreshing sensation after so many years of monotony when it comes to humour.

That sign can’t stop me cause I can’t read.

Anyways, I’ve got a final-year project to work on and a production to prepare for so I’m going to end this week’s article here and I’ll be back soon! I’ve sent in an application for a press pass at EGX Rezzed in late March, so hopefully we get it and I’ll be able to provide more awesome content for you all at my favourite convention!

Much love,

CaitlinRC.

Ten Candles – We Fear The Dark For A Reason:

As my final term at university passes by, I often sit back and reflect on how far I’ve come. From admitting I had mental health issues, to starting medication, to starting Mind Games and preparing to go out into the world as a fully-fledged adult – it’s been a hell of a journey. A big part of that process has been the time I have spent with my friends. Since I don’t really drink and the university clubbing scene is the definition of a panic attack for me, I tend to stick to sober events. Watching films, playing video games, chatting with friends and sucking at minigolf, I’ve done it all. My favourite thing to do though, is play board games with those friends. Especially ones that stay with you.

I’ve spoken before about Dungeons and Dragons on the site and anyone who follows my Twitter will know that I’m currently running a campaign for some friends. However, the world of tabletop gaming is not just D&D, much to the shock of many. Thanks in part to the afternoons I’ve spent in board game cafes with my friends from school, and to communities like Dicebreaker – I’ve gotten to explore the genre that I love, a bit more deeply. From Dead of Winter and Betrayal at The House on The Hill, to Call of Cthulhu and Band of Blades, there’s a massive range of games out there for you and more are being developed every single day.

If you read my Betrayal article, you’ll know what these are for.

One tabletop game that has really hit close to home for me recently is the horror RPG, Ten Candles. There aren’t many games that can stun my friends into silence for more than a few seconds, yet Ten Candles manages it. Every decision that my players made were given an extensive level of thought, detail and care, before committing to it. Considering these are the same players that tend to throw fireballs first and ask questions later, it’s an astounding difference to witness. So, what is Ten Candles? Why am I committing an entire article to it? Why should you play it? Let me tell you.

Humans have always feared the dark. Though when you delve further into it, it’s more a fear of the unknown. We can cope with what we can see, what we know is there. It’s a quantifiable problem that we can take steps to combat. In the pitch black, you don’t know what’s there, what it’s doing or whether that prickling on the back of your neck is it creeping ever closer. Ten Candles is played mostly in the dark. Once you finish creating the characters you will tell the story with, you turn off any lights in the room. Your only illumination is by the ten candles sat in the centre of the table.

And we are alive.

The sky has gone dark. No sun, no satellites, no phones or GPS. Power grids have failed across the continents and the world you know has been plunged into darkness. Creatures known only as “They”, stalk the shadows, cutting down the last remnants of humanity as you struggle to survive in this post-apocalyptic world. “They” will claim your life in the end. That much is certain. Ten Candles isn’t about survival or “winning”. It’s a game about loss and hope, about finding light in the darkness and making your last moments of living worthwhile.

This is how to grab an audience’s attention.

There aren’t any overly complex rules or time-consuming preparations to make in order to enjoy Ten Candles. All you really need are candles, paper, pens, some regular dice (6-sided) and something to dispose of/burn the paper slips in. Time is marked by the extinguishing of candles. For each failed conflict (dictated by dice rolls), a candle is darkened. If you don’t fail any conflicts, a candle will go out eventually. The end comes for us all, eventually. When you have one final candle left, the Last Stand begins. This is the final scene of the game in which every character will die. It’s inevitable.

Once every character has perished, the final candle is blown out. You sit, in complete darkness and listen to a recording your players recorded as their characters at the start of the game. Their voices, speaking words of hope and sorrow, are haunting, especially with their death scene ringing in their ears. When the recording ends, you all sit there in the darkness – lost in your own thoughts and reflecting on the dark journey they will have taken over the past few hours.

Before the lights go out and the game begins, you must create your characters. Characters are made up of five characteristics – Virtues (positive trait), Vices (negative trait), Concepts (who are you), Moments and Brinks. Your Virtue, Vices and Brinks are made by the players either side of you – allowing totally unique characters to be made in every session. Your Concept and your Moment are entirely your choice. A Moment is a scenario in which your character can find hope. Be that reuniting with a lost family member, taking down one of “Them” or finding somewhere safe to stay the night, these Moments provide you with another dice in the Last Stand – increasing your chances of achieving something significant in your final moments.

As much as I didn’t discuss the Establishing Truths phase, these three lines are what stays with you.

Brinks are a bit different. A brink is what your character is like when pushed to the edge. What do they do when faced with loss or grief? Do they fly into a rage? Were they a murderer before this all began? The possibilities are endless. As the players decide the Brink for the person on their left, this means that the GM is also involved. The GM plays as “Them”, and they have seen one of the players at their breaking point. This means the players Brink is kept secret. Meanwhile the player to the right of the GM gets to decide what form “They” take in the session. Do they worship the moon? Do they shapeshift? Do they mimic voices? What powers do they have?

This story is not a happy one. It is a joint tale of hope, desperation, fear and co-operation in the darkness. Although the GM is there to lead the story, they are not in control of everything that happens. Sometimes, it is up to the players to narrate what happens. Everyone at the table works together to weave a story they deem worthy of telling. Their interactions, their moments of hope and loss, their eventual deaths – they all must have meaning and weight behind them. At the end of the world, you are what will be the difference between the light and the darkness.

We may be destined to die but it is up to you how it happens.

If you can, I’d suggest playing this yourself. You can get a PDF of the rulebook or a paper-copy from cavalrygames.com to support the creator Stephen Dewey – a very talented developer. It is an experience that I feel will stay with you for a long time and bring your friends closer together.

Till next week,

CaitlinRC.

The Stanley Parable – Sarcasm, The Game:

Stanley Parable is one of those games that everybody knows but not everyone has played. It is the first game that springs to mind when someone says the term “meta” or “breaking the fourth wall”. The game is keenly aware of its own status as a “video game”, as well as being able to distinguish between the actions of Stanley, the protagonist, and you, the player. When Undertale was released, people heaped praise onto its commentary of the player’s previous actions – something that The Stanley Parable had been doing since it’s first release.

Obviously, if you’ve never experienced the brilliant insanity that is this game, go try it. The developers are producing a “Ultra Deluxe” edition of the game, with more content, more endings and more sass, which is to be released at some point this year. So, now is a better time than ever to give it a try. Though, try not to strangle the Narrator. There’s only so much abuse you can take from him before you grab the nearest sharp object and throw it. Computer’s are expensive after all and replacing them can be a pain in the backside.

…I think they want us to go through the red door.

The plot of The Stanley Parable could probably give FNAF a run for its money with all it’s endings, references, timelines and interweaving paths. Want to obey the Narrator? That’s one ending. Want to disobey at every turn? That’s another. Want to hurl yourself off a moving platform and onto a previously inaccessible area? Bit odd, but you can still do it. The Stanley Parable is about choice, freedom, control and the powers that seek to take it away from you. At the centre of it all are two key figures – the Narrator, and you, the player.

One of the fascinating things about video games as a medium, is the messages we take from it. Nobody’s experience is the same. Where I might see a story about someone suffering from anxiety, you might see someone trapped in a negative relationship. A conversation with a character might hit closer to home or a background track could make you cry. This is the same in everyday life. The path I’ve taken to where I am now, sat writing this article, is completely unique. Wherever you are, reading this, your journey has been your own.

I think the sign makers need to look up the word “subtle”.

A prime example of this has come from this site and the wonderful community that has built up around it. When I write an article, I’ll have a few key points that I try to get across, as well as a few thought-provoking ideas that may spark further conversation. However, the comments are often filled with insightful, intelligent and unique perspective’s that I wouldn’t have thought of in a thousand years. It’s a joy to read.

The story in The Stanley Parable is a tale about employee 427, who pushes buttons as instructed by his computer terminal. Employee 427, or Stanley as we know him, realises that something is wrong. Following the standard story path, you explore the office building and eventually discover a mind-control facility at the heart of it. If you listen to the narrator, you’ll turn off the mind-control facility and set Stanley free, allowing him to escape the monotonous job he was trapped in (even though Stanley apparently loves it).

…I’d date it. (quiet sad gay crying)

However, the moment you stop obeying the Narrator, the tone of the game changes. Instead of merely instructing you, the Narrator insults you, bargains with you, begs you to just play along for a few minutes. Games often like to toy with you, to keep you on the edge of your seat, to keep you in the dark and pull the rug out from under you when you least expect it. The Stanley Parable takes that a step further, and constantly makes it presence known – leaving you with the uncomfortable sensation of being watched, judged and observed.

It does remind me of my inner voice. We all have that voice in our head, which tends to become a lot louder during stressful times. When it comes to mental health, that voice tends to get all the louder. As the Narrator judges your actions, you start to question your own motivations. Are you doing it to spite him? Is it simply curiosity? Are you searching for a deeper meaning where none could be found? He provides a perspective on your choices from the viewpoint of a writer, a creator.

Follow the line or go back to playing the “save the baby from the burning fire” game.

As a GM of various tabletop games for my friends, being able to see how they interact with the world’s that I create is my favourite part of the experience. However, it can be frustrating and disheartening when the story you’ve put so much effort into, isn’t appreciated or acknowledged. Though I wouldn’t resort to maniacally laughing and insulting my players as they run around trying not to be exploded. At least not yet. Maybe if they try to kill one more of my lovely NPC’s or piss off my omnipresent OC again, then I’ll consider it.

More than anything, The Stanley Parable is hilarious. There’s careful thought and dedication put into every element of the game, from office doors, to hurling yourself down a staircase multiple times in search of an ending. From staring at tables, to answering a phone, to following the “Adventure Line”, there are so many possibilities that it’d explode your brain if you think about it for too long.

Anyways, apologies that this took so long, I’ve been a bit under the weather! Remember to comment, like, follow the site and I’ll see you next time:

CaitlinRC.

LEGO Games – Because punching buildings till they break is vandalism apparently:

If you’ve been following me on Twitter (which you should all do, just saying @OurMindGames), then you’ll understand I’ve recently fallen back in love with Lego. Growing up, I was the opposite of my older sister – who preferred the more stereotypically feminine stuff. Nothing wrong with that, it just wasn’t me.

My love of video games and creating things, be it through Lego or carpentry, has had a major influence on the young adult I have become. I loved to create motorised vehicles out of Lego, so much so that I genuinely considered becoming a mechanical engineer for a good few years (before I realised that I didn’t like studying physics). So, to come back to it after all these years has a somewhat bittersweet feel to it.

LOOK UPON MY CREATION AND WEEP.

Alongside my university studies, I work as an ambassador in local schools, delivering workshops, computing lessons and providing access to new technologies that the kids may not have had access to before. My Saturday mornings are spent helping younger kids build their own games, robots and applications from all sorts of bits of tech. Honestly, most of the kids are leaps and bounds ahead of where I was when I was their age, which is really heartening to see.

One of the most popular bits of kit, is the Lego Mindstorms – programmable robot units given movement, control and purpose by adding Lego blocks! More often that not, I end up on the floor, digging through boxes of bricks looking for the specific piece that will complete the kid’s magnum opus.

Thankfully, the love of Lego did not die with my generation.

Side note, typing that sentence genuinely made me shudder out of realisation that I’m technically part of a different generation. Age is just a number, come at me world. If I want to build Lego, dance in the rain and roll down grass hills, then I will. You cannot stop me! (Cue evil laughter)

Moving past the days of Lego stop motion movies, more often that not, we often see these building bits in game adaptations of our favourite franchises – such as Marvel, DC, Harry Potter and Lord of The Rings. Though that last one isn’t really an option anymore, unless you want a court case on your hands.

RIP the precious

A lot of kids first experiences with these cinematic universes, is through Lego games. Obviously, not every parent is content with letting their primary school age child play games with heavy themes or to see films with adult ratings. For example, I used to only be able to play games that were rated 15 or 18, if my dad was with me. So, I have played a lot of Lego games.

A large amount of gatekeeping in the gaming community is based on the argument of what constitutes an actual “game”. Some claim that only console/PC games fit the criteria, others argue that there should be some degree of difficulty in the gameplay for it to be called a “proper game”. Lego games, with their simple but enjoyable gameplay, basic puzzles and focus on fun, tend to be in the eye of the storm. Let’s chat through a few of the common complaints:

Avenge their bricky bodies

“They’re too easy”

What’s wrong with a game being easy? Considering the complex issues that we deal with in everyday life, sometimes it is nice to play a game that doesn’t go out of its way to challenge you. It’s about enjoyment, losing yourself in something other than your problems for a while and getting a small sense of achievement when you beat a boss or solve a puzzle. Depending on your mental state at the time, it might be your only win in a day filled with losses.

*WEEE WOOOO WEEEE WOOO* ITS THE LAW

“Nobody enjoys them or wants to play them.”

For those who struggle with reaction times or complex puzzles, having a game that is fully playable for them, is a welcome relief. Although the games industry is slowly improving, it is not the most accessible thing in the world. From providing subtitles, to having different colour schemes, to turning off quick time events entirely, there are lots of ways that games can broaden their audience and allow anyone and everyone to enjoy the experience. Plus, they’re good multiplayer games. Being able to play games with your loved ones, especially if you don’t normally get to, is a wonderful way to make memories. Just because you don’t enjoy something, doesn’t mean others won’t. Remember that.

IM BATMAN AND IM FINE.

“They’re boring.”

Considering the popularity of the Lego games, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Whether it’s building the actual sets, punching every breakable thing in sight to collect studs, or swinging around as a Lego version of Spiderman, there is a childish delight in these experiences.

Personally, I find the process of building the Lego sets very therapeutic and relaxing. For someone whose mind is often filled with anxiety, fear, self-loathing and every possible catastrophic scenario that could befall me, Lego provides a peaceful respite. Don’t knock it till you try it.

Anyways, I’ve got sleep to catch up on and crops to harvest on my virtual farm. Till next time,

CaitlinRC.