Tag Archives: Nintendo Switch

FGC #442 Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night

BLOOD!Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night reminded me why I actually enjoy my favorite genre.

We live in confusing times. Just a few years back, it seemed like it was easy to define the direction of gaming. AAA was king, and, if anyone was “involved” in videogames, they knew that the next big thing was inevitably a franchise with intense graphics, open-world sandbox gameplay, and RPG-like elements. Or… something. Look, what’s important is that every gaming news site out there was telling us that the hottest titles available all cost the gross national product of South America, required twelve craptillion hours to produce, and were available now for your Playstation X or FourBox or whatever.

But things are different now. It may just be my old man imagination, but it seems like the videogame industry has finally adjusted to accommodate both AAA games and less intensive, but dramatically easier to produce, “indie” games. (In many cases, these “indie” games aren’t independently produced at all, but it seems like such an unintended slight to refer to them as “budget” or otherwise lesser titles. Though one could suppose that the “budget” thing really is the biggest factor here…) Back in the Playstation 2 days, it was newsworthy that Katamari Damacy was a “budget” title at its initial $20 MSRP. Now, presumably thanks to the advent of digital storefronts and more accessible development tools, games that could likely be best described as “light” are available at $20 just as often as the latest release drops on the same storefront at $60 (or $90 for that all-important day one edition). This has had the wonderful side effect of reviving certain genres and playstyles, so “the arcade experience” has finally resurfaced along with other categories that include “pretty much Zelda” and “shoot ‘em up (without exploitation)”. And, of course, the metroidvania has returned to us. In fact, the metroidvania has returned to us in spades.

MEOWIt seems like there is a new metroidvania released every month (every seven seconds come Fall). And, like a sucker, I have a tendency to throw myself into about every third one that comes down the pike. I like metroidvanias! I have liked them since Super Metroid (“What about the original Metroid?” “We don’t talk about that”). And I suppose that, like a plumber that is permanently thirsty after an unfortunate detour through Desert Land, I am always going to be starved for more metroidvania content. I can’t even say that I will wait to finish one metroidvania before I start the next one, as it appears I am playing another metroidvania while I am writing this very article. Load times are writing times, people! I’m a very busy man, and I have to see that sweet 100% map completion achievement somehow!

But that’s the exact problem I had that I hadn’t realized until playing Bloodstained: Not all metroidvanias are about completion.

I admit that I have played a number of metroidvanias in recent years, and now I’m pretty sure that I played them all wrong. For an easy example, I can look at Metroid 2, Metroid 2, and Metroid 2, all games that were reviewed recently (“recently”) for this site. And if you look at those articles, you will note that two out of three of those games were completed and reviewed (“reviewed”) within days of their release. How did I do that? Well, obviously, I completed the titles as quickly as possible. Why did I do that? Well, that’s simple: it’s a videogame, it’s a challenge, and you’re winning if you finish the challenge the fastest. Yes, I can and absolutely will go back to “100%” the title, but I’m going to do that as quickly as possible, too. I noticed that door I couldn’t open quite yet, you better believe I’m going to come back later and nab every last expansion pack and powerup bonus. After I’m all done with that, I’m going to check a FAQ and/or forums to learn what I missed, and maybe review a few speedrun strats. Then, after I’ve seen my own fastest run through the latest SR388, then, maybe, I’ll put it all down, call the game complete, and see you next mission. …Which might happen about seven seconds later with a certain robot named Fight…

And Bloodstained taught me that no, you’re wrong Goggle Bob. Stop and smell the roses (that may or may not be expies for medusa heads).

Too hot todayLet’s address one thing before we go any further: Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night is by no means a perfect game. For one thing, the bosses suck in all kinds of different ways. Practically every creature has way too much HP, you see the same stupid patterns over and over again, and there is just no universe where certain samurai bosses needed “reprise” fights (particularly in light of the Boss Rush mode). I’m pretty sure I distinctly enjoyed, like, one boss battle, and everything else was either way too stupid/easy or way too frustrating thanks to stupidity/endurance. And I’m playing on Switch, so let me tell you about how, every once in a while, I am reminded of Super Castlevania and the kind of slowdown that I thought was relegated to games from thirty freaking years ago. Oh, and speaking of thirty years ago game design: there is the occasional bit in Bloodstained that might have been more at home back in Simon’s Quest, the infamous Castlevania title that told players to literally bang their heads against the wall. At one point, I (a person who famously plays a lot of videogames) was completely stuck for finding a solution to my current predicament, and it turns out the resolution involved talking to a random NPC out in the castle boonies. Why would I ever do that? Who knows, but I couldn’t see a single clue to lead me in that direction, so I was stuck randomly wandering all over the map.

And… I enjoyed that.

I didn’t know what I was doing, and I enjoyed that.

It has been said a thousand times that the appeal of a number of videogames and their associated genres (that is to say, all the games that copied the original title until they were defined as belonging to a genre) was always their level of freedom. Grand Theft Auto 3 is a title that was probably completed by about 25% of its players, but was somehow still enjoyed for hours upon hours thanks to all the fun one could have with a cheat code and a rocket launcher. Skyrim probably has something to do with terrifying dragons, but it is also a cheese wheel discovery simulator. And The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild allows for a Link that can ignore the literal apocalypse and dick around discovering tree poop for entire months. Freedom is the name of the game!

Another terrible night for a commuteBut “freedom” is something that is generally lacking in 2-D adventures. Mario might have been able to find a key or two in his 2-D outings, but those levels were still “courses”, not “environments” (and you could likely claim the collectathons of the late SNES era were Mario and others growing against their 2-D confines). And while there were a few 2-D games based on exploring, that entire perspective has always been about finding the next checkpoint or powerup that helps you to find the next powerup. There’s a reason that Metroid rewards you with its heroine in her knickers for a speedy run through Zebes, and totally ignores how you used your grappling beam to teach the etecoons how to love. The point of a 2-D adventure is not to “have fun” in the environments, it is to find the optimal way to move forward, to gain more skills, and then see what’s around that next bend. The fun is in the discovery of new areas and powers, not in simply reveling in the areas you’ve already traversed.

But when I got stuck in Bloodstained, I discovered that I actually liked playing around in this haunted castle. I didn’t have any new abilities. I didn’t have some grinding goal. In fact, I didn’t have a damn clue where I was supposed to be heading, or what I was supposed to be doing. But I was at least at the point in the game where Miriam’s moveset is more robust than your typical Castlevania protagonist. It was fun to play as Miriam, and, as a result, it was fun to revisit older areas with Miriam. It was fun to see monsters that had previously been a detriment, and were now a possible source for new and exciting items. It was fun to see old areas, and enjoy the ambiance of any given room in a capacity beyond just randomly hitting walls and hoping for a meat drop. I want one, too!It was fun! It was fun exploring the world of Bloodstained not for some overarching goal, but just exploring for the sake of exploring! Like some kind of fancy-pants, city-slicker 3-D game. And even if I wasn’t making any “plot” progress, I was still collecting a host of materials, shards, and experience from my unplanned sojourn. Even when I’m not doing anything, I’m doing something! That’s the sign of a good videogame!

And, ultimately, I feel like that is the source of the good from the “vania” side of the metroidvania equation. My personal theory for years has been that Metroid games are better than Castlevania games. Why? Well, if you find a Super Missile container hiding behind a wall while exploring Zebes, you can enjoy that Super Missile upgrade whether you’re at the start of the adventure or heading toward the final confrontation. Meanwhile, while exploring Castlevania (or… Igavania? Huh?), you might find a +1 sword hidden in a concealed room. But you’ve already discovered a +4 sword. Why would you ever bother with such a piddling weapon? Congratulations, you found the secret, and it’s completely useless. Why did you even bother exploring?

But that’s only true in a bad Castlevania. In a game where your every undertaking is enjoyable, then finding even the crappiest of swords is enjoyable, because you enjoyed getting there. Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night is such a game. Bloodstained is fun to play, and, in that way, encourages the player to stop and take it all in. Every movement, every monster, every gigantic severed dog’s head (it’s a weird game) contributes to an overall feeling that is bizarrely welcoming. Yes, Bloodstained predominantly takes place in a deadly castle filled with murder-beasts, but it also feels like Iga is inviting you to his magical kingdom (that incidentally contains giant werewolves). It’s fun to play Bloodstained, and it’s fun to be in Bloodstained.

Ante Up!I feel like that is something I forgot along the way. Through the portable metroidvanias, through the reimaginings of other titles, and through the current bounty of excellent indie titles, I’ve been focusing on “beating” these ‘vanias. And, while that is a perfectly valid approach to any videogame, somewhere I lost the simple ability to enjoy the moment. Stop, smell the zombies. and encounter a castle on its own terms. With an interesting moveset and environments, Bloodstained encourages exploration as slow and meticulous as the effort it inevitably took to build this kingdom.

Bloodstained isn’t a perfect game. It might not even be a truly great game. But it is a game that encouraged me to look at games differently, and that’s always perfect.

FGC #442 Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night

  • System: Xbox One, Playstation 4, PC, and Switch if you’re nasty. Vita and WiiU are right out.
  • Number of players: There’s some manner of multiplayer somewhere in here, right? For all I care, it’s single player, but I’m pretty sure there was a stretch goal somewhere in there…
  • Kickstart This: Yes, I contributed money to see this game produced. Do I feel that influences my own opinion on the game? No. Considering I am really terrible about checking any developer update emails, I’m going to go ahead and say my “production credit” is just an eternal reminder that I reserved this game way early.
  • Favorite Shard: Being able to manually “aim” Miriam’s hand is the perfect middle ground between your average metroidvania and Samus Returns’ continual aiming. And the best use of aiming Miriam’s hand is to shoot a bevy of True Arrows right at your opponents. There’s nothing finer than seeing a goopy zombie puddling around with arrows in its knees.
  • Look out!Boss Battler: It seems like the bosses that were most difficult in Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon have been converted to extremely easy encounters for this adventure. In particular, Andrealphus, the bird-armor thing, goes from the biggest bad to the smallest chump. Though I suppose a lack of pits really takes something away from the poor guy…
  • Say something mean: The entire first area is terrible. Bloodstained offers easily the worst opening I have seen in a videogame in years. Miriam starts off too limited, the areas are claustrophobic, and the boss of the area is just the worst. Did someone demand a really s*** prologue area? Because we got a really s*** prologue area.
  • Did you know? While Dracula technically doesn’t appear in this game, the ultimate impetus for the final villain of the game is very similar to the motivations of Bram Stoker’s Dracula. So even when the count doesn’t show up, it seems he has an influence on final bosses.
  • Would I play again: I feel like I got everything I wanted out of this castle, but I’m certainly going to dive in when further character DLC drops. I will be returning to this magical land once again. Actually, come to think of it…

What’s next? We’re going to continue our Bloodstained coverage. Kinda. Next up is Castlevania: Order of Ecclesia, and we’re going to play a little game of compare and contrast between the seemingly very similar protagonists. Please look forward to it!

Robin!

FGC #439 Trials of Mana

Get on the mana train!Once again, this old man is wondering about the world that may have been.

Today’s game is Trials of Mana, the sequel to the venerable Secret of Mana (and descendant of Final Fantasy Adventure). Unlike practically every other title in the Mana franchise (did you know there was a TRPG? Oh, and that weird “action” one for the PS2?), Trials of Mana follows Secret of Mana in an iterative manner. Secret of Mana was a gigantic mess of ideas slapped together for a hypothetical/doomed system that was never meant to materialize, and, yeah, it kind of played like something that was never really prepared for the light of day. Don’t get me wrong, I will defend the fun of Secret of Mana until my dying day (I’m considering an epitaph that reads “Here rests Goggle Bob, and Secret of Mana was good, actually”. It’s the only way future generations will know!), but even I know in my heart of hearts that the game is a hot mess. The battle system is half-baked, the world itself has a number of “cutting room floor”-based dead ends, and the plot is a hodgepodge of different concepts that eventually culminates with a skeleton wizard out of nowhere. Trials of Mana seems like an honest attempt to take the best ideas from Secret of Mana, improve on them, and produce a game that could be its “intended form” from the start of its production. Does it work? Well… mostly.

LOOK OUTFirst of all, let’s address the biggest issue with Secret of Mana and Trials of Mana: magic sucks. There is no “quick casting” in either title, and, whether you want to cast a simple healing spell or summon a meteor from hell to rain unholy destruction upon the battlefield, you’re stuck cycling through random menus, waiting for casting, and then pausing any and all action while the spell animation completes. Trials of Mana works slightly differently from Secret; Secret would freeze only the target of most spells, while Trials freezes all of the action on the screen for every single casting. And, against all odds, somehow both systems are the absolute worst. When your opponent is frozen in Secret, you can just pile on the commands (and faerie walnuts) to stunlock your opponent into oblivion. It’s not very… strategic. This is avoided in Trials of Mana, but the constant, never-ending pauses thanks to friends and foes casting spells completely obliterates any sort of combat flow. And Trials somehow makes the worst even worse, as many bosses are programmed to counter magic spells, but, thanks to the inherent lag in the magic-freezing, it’s very difficult to perceive the if/then of countering that is inevitably going to get your party killed. So, if you somehow wound up with a mage on your team, maybe it’s best to let them sit there and do nothing, because it’s always fun to have a character on the roster that is (going to make you) dead weight.

Though maybe it would be a good idea to take a look at the whys of whether or not a mage is currently weighing down your team. Not unlike many games of yesterday and today, Trials of Mana starts with a clutch of unfamiliar characters, and you are asked to choose half of them to be your traveling party. The first character you select becomes the focal protagonist of the adventure, and the second two both play out their signature stories in brief, “aside” arcs. To be clear, this does not employ the modern/Dragon Quest method of having a main character that is 100% meant to be a player avatar that eventually earns some narratively well-defined, though multi-choice, companions; no, in this case, six different playthroughs of Trials of Mana could potentially feature six wildly dissimilar protagonists. And the difference isn’t merely cosmetic: each of the heroes has their own hopes and dreams, but more importantly, they have their own final dungeons and final bosses. CENSOR THISThere are three “pairs” of overlapping finales within the full cast of six, so it would technically require three different complete cycles through Trials of Mana to see every last dungeon and enemy the title has to offer. And, yes, if you’re curious about every story in the Trials of Mana universe, you’re going to need six different runs of a 15-20 hour game (good news: you’ll probably cut that down to ten hours by your fourth quest).

This, naturally, brings us to the topic of alternate realities.

There are six protagonists in Trials of Mana, but only one hero can ever wield the singular, titular (in Japan) Mana Sword. And, as mentioned, each pair of heroes has a unique antagonist. Riesz and Hawkeye, for instance, battle a vampire, a cat lady, and some manner of plant prince; meanwhile, Kevin and Charlotte are pitted against a murder clown and another damn skeleton wizard. Naturally, it is the choice of protagonist that determines the final boss, and the other antagonists are forced to screw off and die at the midpoint of the adventure to make room for the real big bad should they not be the focus of the story. It just wouldn’t do for Riesz to not battle the woman that murdered her parents, so, sorry Gourmand, you’re going to have to leave now. Where do murder clowns go where they die? Batman should look into it.

However, this creates some interesting plot gulfs for our potential heroes. Take Duran, the stalwart knight of Trials of Mana. If Duran is the hero of the piece, he fights against the nefarious Dragon Lord and his disciple, the Darkshine Knight. Eventually, Duran learns that the mysterious Darkshine Knight is in fact his father, a knight named Loki who once fought against the Dragon Lord, and was presumed dead by his best friend, the good King Richard. To say the least, the relationship between the orphaned Duran and his now malevolent father is a bit strained, but it all works out for the best when Duran and Darkshine Loki reconcile and the Dragon Lord is tossed down a conveniently located open shaft to nowhere. Or something. Look, what’s important is that Duran gets an amazing amount of closure on the whole psychologically traumatized orphan thing, and Darkshine Knight gets to die knowing that his son has grown into a noble, strong, Level 40 young man. … Or he doesn’t, because Duran wasn’t the main character, and all he does is stand motionless in the throne room as a completely forgettable NPC. Getting better!In this situation, the Dragon Lord is slain by whoever winds up being the real big bad, and Darkshine sticks around long enough to deliver a dragon obituary before peacing out to nonexistence. Duran never learns of his lineage, and Loki never sees his son again. Oh well! He’s not the main character! Don’t worry about it, audience! Somebody else got a happy ending! Just be happy with that!

But that’s the kind of thing that inevitably bothers me. Sure, it’s only one iteration of the story, but, in one universe, Duran is left not knowing for the rest of his life. He could have been a hero with a healthy memory of his undead father, but, no, now he’s likely going to be in therapy for the rest of his days. Poor dude didn’t get a faery companion, a father, or magical friends that may or may not be able to transform into werewolves. In one universe Duran is the Hero of Mana, in another, he can barely leave a room.

And in one universe, a young Goggle Bob played Trials of Mana. In another, he didn’t get to play the game “for real” until he was in his 30s.

Trials of Mana was never released in America (in this timeline). It did eventually receive a fan translation, though. I played that game on a creaky old laptop without a properly working soundcard (ah, college life), and, while I certainly enjoyed the experience, it wasn’t exactly all that notable. It was a Super Nintendo game being played concurrently with the heyday of the Playstation 2, and Trials of Mana didn’t come off as revolutionary when Grand Theft Auto 3 was also on the menu. And, yes, the format didn’t exactly help, as my beloved laptop (so beloved because it actually allowed me to not be glued to the computer lab at 3 am) was barely capable of supporting the full Mana experience. I played Trials of Mana (Seiken Densetsu 3) because I felt like I had to complete such an important part of Squaresoft history, not because I was anxiously looking forward to the next level.

And then, sometime in my 20’s, I managed to score a repro SNES cartridge of Secret of Mana 2 in English. I played it for about five minutes before growing weary of holding a SNES controller again.

They're asleep!Finally, a few weeks ago, Square-Enix deigned to release Trials of Mana for the Nintendo Switch in glorious American-o-vision. And, for the first time since I ice skated uphill against my old laptop over a decade prior, I played through the entirety of Trials of Mana. And it was rough. The music and graphics are still gorgeous, but all the quality of life improvements that modern JRPG/action titles have presented since the turn of the millennium are sorely missed. The class system is opaque, equipment juggling is unpleasant, and, let’s be honest, who has the time nowadays to complete an entire game three different ways for miniscule plot changes? There are two whole dungeons I missed on my playthrough? Who cares! I would have to complete 80% of the game again just to see a new variation on a cave? I’ll youtube that different final boss, thank you. I am a very important man with very important places to be. That fro-go place can barely open without me visiting!

But in 1995? Back then, this all could have worked. The era of the SNES saw a Goggle Bob with a significantly greater tolerance for bullshit. Back then, a new game only came down the pike (of my parents’ wallets) every six months or so, so a title with three different completely separate paths would have been more than welcome. Spell animations wouldn’t have bothered my young mind, because, I like the turtledamn, did you see those graphics? And the class system that practically requires a FAQ to enhance your party? You better believe I wouldn’t give a damn about proper character optimization. I didn’t even know the meaning of the word “optimization”! Probably literally!

In short: if Trials of Mana had been released in its proper epoch, it might have been one of my most beloved games. It might have been another Final Fantasy 6, Secret of Mana, or even Chrono Trigger.

There’s an entire other timeline out there where Trials of Mana is important to me. Here, in this reality, it is a random novelty that happened to show up on Nintendo Switch.

Trials of Mana, I’ll always wonder if you were meant for better things…

FGC #439 Trials of Mana

  • System: Nintendo Switch. It originally appeared on the Super Famicom in some lucky regions, though.
  • Number of players: Is there really multiplayer available for this game? I know there are reports that the remake won’t have multiplayer “like the original”, but I thought this was another Secret of Evermore situation where the original only had multiplayer thanks to enterprising modders. I’m going to tentatively call this one single player. Maybe it’s just two, but not three? Dammit.
  • What’s in a name: “Trials of Mana” may as well be nails on a chalkboard to my ears. It’s Seiken Densetsu 3, you jerks! Or Secret of Mana 2! Trials of Mana? Really? Because “Trials” starts with “Tri” and that’s marginally related to the number 3? Is that the best you could do? Obviously, the title should be Secret of Ma3a. I mean, duh. Come on, Square Enix, get on the Mana Beast.
  • Speaking of names: Don’t tell anyone, but I can’t even get my own naming conventions together:
    ERROR TYPE MISMATCH

    It’s a secret to everybody.
  • Favorite Hero: Kevin is a bruiser that can transform into a werewolf to cause even more bruises. And he can learn healing magic, so when he’s not bruising, he’s keeping the party alive. And he can learn a spell that transforms physical damage into MP refills, so his bruising can become an unlimited healing battery. Kevin is my hero.
  • An End: During the finale, the previously mentioned Super Werewolf Kevin learns that his best friend is still alive (because Kevin is really bad at identifying a heartbeat) and was accidentally buried alive (by Kevin), his mother is dead, and his father is a complete dick. Couple this with previously transforming his rival into a baby that wanders off into the woods, Kevin has a really weird life.
  • TOTES MCGOATSFavorite Benevodon: We’re really calling them that? Okay, fine. My vote goes to Dolan, the gigantic goat monster that scales an enormous tower just to reach out and touch some Mana Heroes. Also: you can’t tell me that Dolan wasn’t originally intended to be the God Beast (there!) of Darkness, as how could a gigantic goat not fit the ol’ dark arts?
  • Did you know? Heroes of Mana, a strategy RPG for Nintendo DS released in 2007, is a direct prequel to Trials of Mana. It features most of the parents of characters from Trials of Mana, and includes a number of locations and antagonists (a few of them in surprisingly heroic roles) as well. It’s kind of a shame that no one cared about the Mana franchise in 2007, so this title is almost entirely forgotten.
  • Would I play again: Probably! Never mind the upcoming remake, I will probably give another Trials story route a shot at some point. It might be a while, but the gameplay of Trials of Mana works well on the portable Switch, so I’ll probably play it again as one of those “I can play and watch TV” situations. I’ll save state the story scenes for when I have a spare moment to pay attention…

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Persona 3: Dancing in Moonlight! Let’s boogie! And put the gun down! Absolutely boogie without firearms! Please look forward to it!

RUN AWAY

FGC #435 Pokémon: Let’s Go Eevee!

Here comes some fuzzy dude!I am an Eevee convert.

I am a Pokémon nerd, and have been from practically the first moment they hit these shores. Shortly before Pokémon Red/Blue (in America), there was the Pokémon Television show. And shortly before that, there was the Nintendo Power pack-in Pokémon comic. It followed the same plot as the anime, so, naturally, it featured Pikachu right from the start. And, yes, like so many people, I fell for that tiny electric rodent immediately. I think it was the “always says its name” thing? That’s like Yoshi, right? Totally endearing! I was saying “pikachu” to friends as a random nonsense word one time at band camp before the global phenomenon actually kicked off, and I prided myself on being at the forefront of this particular nerd movement/moment. Pikachu and I were together right there at the beginning, and you never forget your first Pokémon.

And Eevee… well… Eevee was more of a threat.

As we’ve covered before, Pokémon Red/Blue was, to put it lightly, a jerk. The title existed before pokébreeding existed, so every “unique” Pokémon was just as exclusive and limited as the legendaries of today. This meant that, against all odds, noted losers Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan were actually desirable and sought-after. Similarly, everyone wound up with an Eevee, but only one, and thus only one of three branching evolutions. So you could swing by the department store and Thunder Stone up a Jolteon… but was that the right way to go? Would you prefer a Flareon? Or was the more defensive Vaporeon the better choice? And, even if you somehow chose the “best” for your own team, were you comfortable with trading away your choice? Jimmy down the street has a Flareon, and you really would like to complete that Pokédex, but are you going to trade away the Omanyte he’s asking for? Argh! Eevee seems like a great idea, but the little bugger is just too annoying to be a favorite. Electric apparently has an advantage over Normal in this round.

Get 'em!And Eevee didn’t fare much better in Generation 2, either. It was more readily available, and it received two brand new evolutions, but… they were annoying. Umbreon and Espeon were unmistakably great designs with cool moves (you didn’t have to be psychic to predict a new dark type would be exciting), but they were tied to the new friendship mechanics and the day/night cycle. While some Pokémon would evolve thanks to basic leveling or being exposed to a particularly nice rock, the evolution conditions for our new Eevee forms were comparatively about as complicated as solving a quadratic equation. And, like a quadratic equation, it wasn’t all that difficult, really, it was just a pain in the ass, and why deal with such a thing when there were many more “easier” Pokémon out there? Tyranitar doesn’t need your love and affection, it only needs the still-warm blood of its enemies. Sorry, Umbreon.

Though Eevee did wind up with a come-from-behind victory through Pokemon Colosseum. This Gamecube title was an attempt at a more adult Pokemon experience (as adult as any game can be and still include a Numel), and featured a radical teenage protagonist that jets around on a hovercycle and detonates various buildings. He also had a pair of Eeveelutions as his partners, an Espeon and an Umbreon. And that was pretty damn cool! They were now the yin and yang of the Pokemon universe, the forces of good and evil vying for this protagonist’s soul as he desperately battled to save Pokémon from being exploited so he could then turn around and exploit them, but, like, in a good way. Alpha and Omega, the most obvious names I have ever given to a pair of Pokémon, kicked untold amounts of ass while venturing around Orre, and I have to admit, they did bring me around on the whole Eevee concept.

It's probably the hatAnd then came Pokémon Diamond & Pearl, and we received two all-new Eevee forms. And they were… lame. Glaceon had a cool new ‘do… but that’s it. Nothing worth writing home about.

But then Pokemon X/Y introduced Sylveon, the ribbon-based Fairy-type evolution of Eevee. That’s when Eevee clicked as one of the best Pokémon.

The Fairy Type in Pokémon is weird as hell. The type was first introduced in Pokémon X/Y, so you’ve got creatures that were retroactively “fairy-ized” like Clefairy (makes sense!), Jigglypuff (okay, fine), Mr. Mime (… what?), and Snubbull (the hell you doin’?!). So the defining trait for Fairy Type is… pink? Oh, no, Marill and Ralts mess up even that theory. Then you have the Pokémon that were designed to be Fairy Type from the ground up, like Flabébé the flower thingy, Dedenne the wannabe Pikachu, and Swirlix, the unholy amalgamation of Stimpson J. Cat and one of his own farts. So what’s the connection in Fairy-Type designs? The only common denominator seems to be that they’re all cute. Well, except Mr. Mime, as it is an abomination in the eyes of a caring and just God. But the rest of ‘em are cute!

And Sylveon is the cutest of them all. Because it wants to be cute. It’s an Eevee that knows a fairy move, and feels affectionate to its trainer. And, as a result, it turns into a creature that is 90% ribbons by volume. It is pink. It is adorable. And it is okay with that, because it knows it is loved. And, side note, it can slay dragons. That is always helpful.

But you know what? Sylveon is just the tip of the Eevee iceberg. Eevee doesn’t have to be a Sylveon. Glaceon is available! Or Jolteon! Or Espeon! Or, assuming Eevee has some kind of brain problem, Leafeon! Eevee can be anything! Or at least seven different things! That’s more things than any other Pokémon can be! And it can just stay an Eevee if it wants to be. Nothing wrong with that!

Gooooo!And, ultimately, that’s why Pikachu and Eevee are the ideal mascots of the Pokémon franchise. Pikachu is immutable. Pikachu’s greatest strengths come not from its evolution into a fatter rat or a psychic rat, but from Pikachu continuing to be Pikachu. Infants recognize Pikachu. Grandma recognizes Pikachu. Mickey Mouse begrudgingly recognizes Pikachu. Pikachu is not meant to change, it is meant to simply learn how to be a better, potentially surfing Pikachu. Eevee, though? Eevee can be anything. While Pikachu is stuck forever in its perpetual yellow adolescence, Eevee can progress, and move forward to a future that is right for Eevee. Even the Always-Eevee star of Let’s Go Eevee feels like it is just learning the ropes before it eventually figures out its path in life. It can learn a potpourri of Eevee evolution specific type-based moves. It’s just enjoying its “undeclared” years before choosing a major. Who could ever fault an Eevee for making an informed decision?

So I am an Eevee convert. I used to be a Pikachu super fan, but Eevee has now claimed that top spot, bolstered by all the possibilities within every Eevee. You’re the best, Eevee, and you can make yourself better eeveery day.

And besides, Pikachu is a cop.

Noooooo

Screw that noise.

FGC #435 Pokémon: Let’s Go Eevee!

  • System: Nintendo Switch. It is… kind of like a Gameboy? Except not.
  • Number of players: Two! And, like, completely two players, too. And the two player catching is kind of fun! And your buddy can run around the map screen like an idiot anytime they want! It’s surprisingly well implemented for kids and people who just want to participate, but have no idea how to do that!
  • SNORLAX!Maybe actually talk about the game for a second: What? It’s Pokémon Red/Blue/Yellow, but with modern conveniences and an emphasis on capturing the Pokémon Go market. It’s a lot of fun, but basing the title on the Pokémon game with the least post-game content makes for a less enjoyable experience. And, look, I know I could raise a Magikarp up to Level 50 to challenge some magical Magikarp master… but I have things to do! Give me a new “dungeon” or something. Please?
  • Other Trainers: Green, the female counterpart to Red (Ash) and Blue (Gary), finally makes her first official appearance. She… is apparently an idiot, and mistakes the player for a Pokémon. Or she’s being coy, and is just using such a reason to pelt her opponent with pokéballs. Either way, she’s not exactly endearing…
  • Favorite Pokémon (this game): Machamp made a surprisingly good showing in this title. Eevee is permanently weak to fighting types, so it’s good to have a battlin’ buddy that can throw a few punches. I mean, Eevee obviously is the favorite Pokémon here, but anyone that can help is going to take second place.
  • So why did you get this game? Entirely to unlock Meltan (boxes) in Pokémon Go. And because I will play absolutely every Pokémon game that ever comes out. But the first reason is why I played this game quickly.
  • Gotta Catch ‘em All: You know I do!
    I win!

    And playing Pokemon Go helped!
  • Goggle Bob Fact: By complete coincidence, this article will be posted when I’m flying back from Pokémon Go Fest in Chicago. People of the future! Did I post pictures of the event on my Twitter? Tell me what the World of Tomorrow contains!
  • Did you know? Apparently Eevee’s original, “prototype” name was Eon. This explains why all of the Eeveelutions have names that end in the “eon” suffix. This makes so much more sense now!
  • Would I play again: I technically play this pretty often to unload random Pokémon from Pokemon Go. But am I ever going to play through the game ever again? Probably not. Then again, that is true of practically every other Pokémon game, too, so nothing new there.

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… The Simpsons: Bart’s Nightmare for the SNES! Will it be a dream, or that other thing that is the opposite of a dream that I can’t quite recall the name of right now? Let’s find out! Please look forward to it!

I know them!

FGC #434 The Legend of Zelda: The Adventure of Link

This is still the coolest part of the gameI have uncovered a startling discovery: all of Link’s problems are not created by Ganon, but the Hyrule monarchy!

Now, let’s be clear here: Ganon is not blameless in his actions. Whether you’re looking at Demise, Ganondorf, or just a bloated pig monster with an over-sized fork, Ganon is irrefutably not a good guy. Yes, he’s a thief from a downtrodden tribe that comes from circumstances, but Ganon is not the root of all evil in Hyrule. That dubious honor belongs to the royal family.

In some titles, this is abundantly obvious. We’ve already discussed Breath of the Wild, and how, had Zelda had just the tiniest bit of foresight, her kingdom would not have fallen to the horrors of technology run amok (though it is nice to see that happen to a nation where Facebook is not involved for once). Similarly, the world of Wind Waker is significantly wetter because the only solution the King of Hyrule had to the Ganon problem was to drown it and literally everything else. Ocarina of Time? More Zelda futzing with prophecies and timelines splitting off because of it. A Link to the Past? Never trust the advisor with blue, clawed hands, kingy. And Twilight Princess? That was a gigantic mess that was caused by not one, but two royal families. And then Zelda made it worse! Basically, we’re looking at the royalty being the number one reason Link can’t just sit around raising cuccos all day long, and has to actually nab a sword from some old man cave.

And while we’re discussing elderly hermits distributing weaponry, yes, this is exactly how The Legend of Zelda started.

A wizard did itEveryone knows the basic plot of the original Legend of Zelda: Ganon kidnaps Zelda, the Triforce of Wisdom is shattered into multiple pieces, and Link is the only one brave enough to save the kingdom. Or he just happened to be around. Actually, it’s probably that latter one, as it is distinctly noted that Zelda sent Impa out to find a hero, and Impa was old and wounded, and… what? Did she literally just go with the first elf she found? Dude didn’t even have a sword yet! Okay, it’s not like Impa imparted any valuable information anyway (“The Triforce pieces are out there! Somewhere! Buy a candle at Famous Cave’s!”), but this was a slapdash effort from the get-go. And why were the Triforce pieces scattered to begin with? Because Zelda had a vision of the coming calamity of Ganon, and her only solution was to “safeguard” the Triforce pieces in a series of marginally hidden dungeons. Did that make a lick of sense? No! You just give the Triforce to someone that can get the hell out of town (I hear there’s a lovely clock city just outside of the kingdom limits), and call it a bloody day. I’ve got news for you Zelda: Link was able to retrieve the Triforce of Wisdom because you hid those pieces poorly. Link was just a dude with a pointy stick, and he still managed to conquer every last dungeon and wind up with more equipment as a result of other dungeon-based goodies. Zelda, do you want Ganon to possess two Triforces and have a raft? Because that’s the end result of your stupid plan if Link had showed up in Hyrule like an hour later. And don’t even get me started on what would happen if multiple people found separate Triforce pieces. Face it, Zelda, you got lucky.

GrrrrBut there was one Princess Zelda that did not get lucky. It is canon that Link had a magical adventure where he teamed up with two different versions of himself and wore a suit made entirely out of bombs, and, sometime thereafter, the royal family of Hyrule required a bit of family counseling. The good King of Hyrule had two children, a boy and a girl. The princess was, obviously, another Zelda, and she was granted knowledge of the Triforce. The boy, whom we’re going to name Prince Don, coveted this shiny, golden treasure, and demanded the Triforce. Zelda would not acquiesce to her greedy, probably orange brother, and Prince Don was forced to take drastic action. He hired a wizard that put Zelda under a sleeping spell for generations. This, obviously, solved exactly zero problems, and Prince Don… uh… does the story elaborate on this at all? I mean… uh… he probably died angry, but he was the only heir, right? He just became king anyway, didn’t he? Totally poisoned a woman in a desperate grab for more power, and he’s rewarded with being the most powerful person in the kingdom anyway. Way to go, prince-y. Good job.

So where was the last piece of the full Triforce, the Triforce of Courage? You know, the secret that Zelda was Sleeping Beauty’ed for? Well, turns out that Prince Don’s dad realized his son was a real crumb-bum, and decided to split the complete Triforce, and hide a solid third of it in a dungeon. Sound familiar? However, this Hyrulian monarch knew exactly what he was doing. Somehow “in secret”, the King of Hyrule…

  1. Hid the Triforce of Courage in The Great Palace of the Valley of Death
  2. Populated the Great Palace with a variety of traps and monsters
  3. Placed an impenetrable barrier around the Valley of Death
  4. Scattered the source of the barrier spell into six crystals
  5. Built six temples to house alters that would activate those six crystals
  6. Populated those temples with six unique boss monsters, and a host of lesser, more annoying regular monsters
  7. And then, just for good measure, cast some weird-ass incantation that would make a hand-tattoo appear on whoever was worthy of finally traipsing through those palaces

Hey, Prince? Bad news: even if you knew where to look, there was no way you were going to make it past Horsehead and the Valley of Death or even your first Iron Knuckle. Your dad screwed you but good, princey.

And, bad news, he screwed Link, too.

GrossThe Legend of Zelda: The Adventure of Link is widely considered to be one of the most difficult The Legend of Zelda adventures. Some attribute this to the 2-D perspective being fairly half-baked, and not at all designed around Link’s butter-knife based offensive abilities. Some blame the magic system, which is inventive, but too many monsters and areas require specific spells, so you’re always running at a magical deficit. And there is certainly some merit to the claim that the experience system is opaque at best, and downright punishing at worst. How are you supposed to get anywhere when some damn flying eyeball is leeching your EXP every five seconds!?

But, no, that all pales before the real reason The Adventure of Link is so difficult: The King of Hyrule hated his son. Dude did not just hide the Triforce, he created a treasure hunt that spread across two continents. He devoted great swaths of Hyrulian resources toward building temples containing boiling lava and holographic walls. And, lest that King think his son had the slimmest chance of throwing those unlocking jewels around, for some damn reason, the King of Hyrule summoned a freakin’ fire breathing dragon just to protect one palace. And that cyclops! Where does one even find food for a cyclops, left alone satisfying other cyclopean biological needs!? The King of Hyrule went to a lot of trouble to arrange this massive undertaking for the exclusive purpose of waylaying his own son. Couldn’t he have just taken the kid to soccer practice? Shown up for a few more school plays? You have the Triforce, King! You could have just wished for your son to be a little less of an asshole! You didn’t have to construct a hover-horse!

I hate youAnd then Link got stuck dealing with the fallout of that failed royal relationship. Lucky guy, that Link. An army of monsters are trying to drain his blood to revive their piggy master, and he’s got to deal with generational family therapy for some royals he’ll never know.

It’s called The Legend of Zelda for a reason. It’s The Legend of Zelda Really Messing Up Some Poor Elf’s Day.

FGC #434 The Legend of Zelda: The Adventure of Link

  • System: Nintendo Entertainment System initially, and then the Gamecube collection, and then I’m pretty sure every Nintendo system since. Currently available on Switch!
  • Number of players: Link is going to have to deal with this mess alone.
  • Favorite Spell: It might just be a way to conserve assets, but granting Link a spell where he transforms into a fairy was certainly a bold choice. And it’s a useful spell, too! Who needs all this jumping when you can just fly?
  • No. 3 Tryforce: I like how the first Zelda sequel introduced a new Triforce. I feel like this tradition should have continued, and, by the time of Breath of the Wild, Link has to collect 25 different Triforces, finally culminating with the Triforce of Muted Apathy.
  • I WINAn End: (Almost) Always restarting in Zelda’s sleep chamber has the excellent side effect of making the ending and final scene of the game in Zelda’s temple rather thrilling. Way to work the emotions with limited bits, Nintendo.
  • What’s in a Name: This was the first Zelda game to stick Link’s name in the title. So much for being an unnamed adventurer/player avatar, Nintendo! He’ll never be the most popular protagonist in all of videogames now, guys!
  • Land of the Rising Fun: There are a number of differences between the Japanese and International versions. Seemingly the biggest change in Japan is that Gooma, the cyclops with a morning star boss of the Palace on the Sea, does not appear at all, and is replaced with a second encounter with Jermafenser, the dude with too many heads. America: land of the myopic.
  • Did you know? Ganon’s laugh is the same sound sample used for Soda Popinski in Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out. This raises all sorts of timeline issues…
  • Would I play again: Anyone that says they enjoy this game is a liar. Or they haven’t played it recently. Or I’m being hyperbolic, and I’m just angry at anyone that can get through Death Valley without abusing save states. So many eyeball ghosts! So much lava! I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life!

What’s next? Random ROB has chosen… Pokemon: Let’s Go Eevee for the Nintendo Switch! Oh boy! We’re going to go somewhere or another, eevee! Please look forward to it!

Get 'em
That is how you do it. You’re welcome.