Author Archives: Kevin McFadyen

About Kevin McFadyen

Kevin McFadyen is a world traveller, a poor eater, a happy napper and occasional writer. When not typing frivolously on a keyboard, he is forcing Kait to jump endlessly on her bum knees or attempting to sabotage Derek in the latest boardgame. He prefers Earl Gray to English Breakfast but has been considering whether or not he should adopt a crippling addiction to coffee instead. Happy now, Derek?

Summon a New Age of Wars

I’m not sure what it is about Summoner Wars that draws me in like few other board games. I like to imagine it’s the fact that Kait actually plays it. Maybe it’s because I unironically love Runebound. There’s a certain appeal to things which invoke the childhood fantasy that I voraciously consumed in my formative years. While I certainly avoid the genre now (a peculiarity since I write in it), I quite like the card/dice game of generic fantasy tropes smashing themselves rather comically against each other even if the system isn’t the most compelling or complex.

And I know you all have missed this conversation, so I’m glad to drag it up from the dead.

At any rate, here’s some Summoner Wars news! And I’m not talking about finally writing up my reviews of the last factions I own. Kait never finished the tournament we literally started over a year ago. I hold her solely responsible. However, given our progress in it, I can give a quick rundown of our findings to date:

Abua Shi: Long time favourite. Sadly outdated and outclassed. 

Bolvi: Pet project and powerhouse if given the chance. Crazy strong with help but abysmal without.

Farrah Oathbreaker: Strong but complex. Unfortunately too wordy.

Frick: Low key very good while still feeling balanced and fun.

Jexik: Actually balanced

Mad Sirian: Fun idea with awful implementation. A victim of the early “better safe than sorry” design which he can’t shake.

Nikuya Na: Struggle bus is real. 

Queen Maldaria: How are you winning?!

Rallul: How can you lose?!

Samuel: A+ for effort but outclassed with later releases. Still too safe of design for an aggression faction.

Saturos: Bonkers.

Torgan: Dark horse but the struggle is real. Sometimes you just need to rely on Lady Luck.

Now, with the tournament incomplete there’s a fair amount of ties and a significant amount of sway from outlier data points. I won’t deep dive this. At least not now. Maybe when I’m more bored.

No, what I wanted to discuss was that the artist for Summoner Wars 2.0 has been revealed! Well, he has been revealed for many months now. But I only recently stumbled across this news. 

See!

All art obviously belongs to Martin Abel and Plaid Hat Games. I believe the company is independent now so it’s just them. And yes, this is shamelessly stolen from the Internet.

Ahem. Yes. Well. That was a choice.

Where do we begin? Well, this is my blog so let’s start with my feelings.

I hate it.

Thank you, that’s a wrap. See you next week.

No, of course I’m not going to end there. There’s actually a fair bit to unpack especially since I ragged on the original game’s horrendous art. The perceptive amongst you will notice something familiar about this new Summoner Wars. That’s right. It’s the exact same art style as Crystal Clans. 

And therein lies my issue. I believe I applauded the art direction for Crystal Clans. Wait, let me go and double check if I did…

Yes, I did. I was upfront that the style isn’t my favourite. And it’s still not. Martin Abel is a talented artist, for sure. I can’t hold a candle to his skill. However, I don’t like these cartoon proportions and bright stylizations that are typically sold as children’s animation. It lacks a certain detailing that I prefer. Also, whenever discussing art, I’m more on the realism than stylized side in terms of my tastes anyway. However, they are my tastes. What I was really happy with in regards to the art for Crystal Clans was the design of the factions broke the stereotypical fantasy mold. 

Day of the Dead necromancers that look like a fun Mexican fiesta? Yes please! Geomancy gypsies with a fondness for capoeira? Why not? It was its own thing and it was going to drum to its own damn beat. And I respected that. 

Alas… this is not Crystal Clans 2.0. 

The original Ret-Talus for comparison. He’s uh… certainly green.

Now I’ve hated the visual design for Summoner Wars for a long time. But, truthfully, I felt that within its own framework, they were improving. While there’s a certain lack of creativity when it came to factions (we are swamp orcs, we are green vs we are ice orcs, we are blue), overtime a certain style was emerging that was, by a bare minimum, tolerable.

However, taking the Crystal Clan design and just painting over the old Summoner Wars factions is literally grabbing the worst of both worlds. Now we have these exaggerated, simplified characters composing exaggerated, simplified armies. Boring undead necromancers look like squeaky dog chew toys. Generic white angels and blonde clerics look like the Saturday morning children’s tie-in for a 2001 Bratz Dolls collection. 

Maybe I’ll be surprised that there’s been a huge rework to go along with the visual overhaul to the game but since the artist has already shown us Ret-Talus of the Fallen Kingdom and Sera Eldwin of the Vanguard, I suspect that won’t be the case. 

Even worse, both Crystal Clans and Summoner Wars are fantasy IPs. By using the same artist and art style you make the products visually indistinguishable. Maybe that’s not a problem. Maybe Plaid Hat wants to be known as the child pastel board game company. I don’t know. I don’t sit in on their creative meetings. 

Or, perhaps, the artist had a bulk sale on commissions and with Crystal Clans tanking they had all these leftover designs that had to be used for something. 

And I want to reiterate – the original Summoner Wars art was bad. I am not hating on this new direction simply because it is a new direction. I know that drastic changes, especially to nostalgic pieces, can often face a lot of undue criticism by people who simply want to reignite the experiences of their old favourites. I think I would have not liked it if Crystal Clans never existed and this was the first time I saw it. But I wouldn’t hate it. And I’d most certainly be thankful it wasn’t anime. 

Which, I guess I am thankful it’s not anime.

Given that the characters seem to all share the names of their original releases, I’m guessing this is going to be a hard reboot of the game? Like, everything we’ve seen we’ll be getting again?

I will say this. Plaid Hat must know that going for such a highly stylized design is going to provoke a strong reaction from interested players – whether that be adoration or derision. I can appreciate them being bold. I just don’t like how recycled it feels. I want Summoner Wars to have a more distinct identity whereas this is too muddying around with that other game. 

Will I buy Summoner Wars 2.0? We’ll see. I won’t let the art hold me back, that’s for certain. I didn’t with its first release. So that won’t be the line in the sand for the second. However, after my experience with Crystal Clans, I’ll certainly be more hesitant about a purchase. If it keeps the spirit of its gameplay which I enjoyed from the original, I’ll certainly push past its new coat of paint. 

I’ve done so before, I can do so again.

But I won’t be happy about it.

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Vault 111 – The Institute

So… The Institute.

Adventure stories like Fallout really revolve around the villains. They are the ones that drive the action and set the motivation for the hero to continue through their hardships. As such, the Institute is so insanely important that you can’t drop the ball like Bethesda did. For me, this is where Fallout 4 must begin. Which means we need to pop over to the Commonwealth Institute of Technology before the bombs dropped.

CIT would have been, before the war, a massive centre for robots and artificial intelligence engineering. Their developments and staff had to have played a major role in the war effort both in creating the powersuits that would allow the American army to repel Chinese forces as well in fabricating more theoretical warmachines like the Robobrains. As such, no doubt researchers at CIT had developed predictive models and simulation results that at least suggested there was a good probability for total nuclear destruction. Maybe they didn’t feel a need to formulate their own fallout shelters, erroneously believing that Vault-Tec’s governmental contracts meant such needs would be met. Surely, however, they would have had older or test facilities built beneath the CIT campus, however. Thus, when the bombs fell, the staff and students were instructed and directed to these primitive shelters. However, perhaps in their own arrogance or maybe just in administrative screw-ups, the shelters were clearly not stocked well enough to support all the students and staff cowering in them. Furthermore, their campus wireless network was blown offline and their access to the robotics facilities and the numerous machines built there was lost. 

Recognizing something had to be done or they would all die, several senior staff and scientists bravely volunteered to venture out into the radiation and try to activate and program the robots to tend to exterior repairs of the shelter as well as secure food and water for those inside until the outside world became more tolerable for human life.

Taking what precautions they could, they set out into the nuclear winter. Suffering heavy radiation, they managed to activate some rudimentary robots but recognized that they didn’t have the time or terminals to program them sufficiently for their duties. One of the senior staff offered a bold option that would change the direction of the Commonwealth forever. These senior staffers would hook themselves up to an experimental cryogenic system that would hook their consciousness up to the digital system in the labs and allow them to control the robots manually. 

Fallout 4 and all associated imagery belongs to Bethesda Softworks.

Coincidentally, these pods were designed with the help of the scientists from Vault 111 who were more focused on their long term effects on the human body while the CIT pods specialized in the applications of the mind. Holy shit, we’ve just made a perfect connection with the start of the game!

Thus, these original staff saved the people of CIT and operated as their robotic guardians through the next few years as the landscape was ravaged with nuclear weather, raiders and monsters. But once the radiation had subsided enough, and the area secured well enough, the survivors emerged. They were moved by the sacrifice these researchers did, vowing to reward their actions by unfreezing them. However, the technology was still experimental and those thawed ended up dying whether through the process or the insane amounts of radiation in their bodies. Worried about losing their heroes, they turned to brain mapping and preserving these magnificent brains in great databanks.

This was the start of the Gestalt.

A peculiarity of the Fallout universe is that while there are incredible leaps in technological development, other aspects of their tech are sorely lacking. As such, their storage capacity for digital information is closer to the huge server banks of yesteryear rather than the miniaturization revolution of our days. Thus, while they could store these minds in these servers, they couldn’t really communicate with them individually. These uploaded brains were instead treated as one system and it produced a highly complex entity composed of dozens of personalities, knowledge and skills. This gestalt of minds ended up being insanely valuable for the survivors to consult as it preserved years of advanced computational, robotic, physics, mathematical, psychological and engineering knowledge that would have been otherwise lost. So, even those valued minds that didn’t make that fateful journey but were now aging and in risk of losing their own expertise were uploaded near death, their haggard bodies frozen in a dwindling supply of cryopods. When last these survivors could no longer keep safe the bodies, they resolved to just preserve digital copies of the minds. 

But they vowed, one day, that they would restore these heroes to life anyway they could. They just needed to develop the bodies for them. 

They first started trying to use old Mr. Handy, Protectron and even their experimental robot designs to house the Gestalt. And, if they hooked them up to the wireless system on campus, the Gestalt could interact with them as it filtered the complex computations of the digital mindbanks into its representative body. However, if these machines left the range of the network, the connection was severed and the robot failed. The Gestalt express this process as highly traumatic to its memory cores. So the survivors looked at isolating small portions of its personality, trying to tease out the old minds from the collected whole. Yet the processing units of these simpler machines was simply not suitable for the vast quantity of data uploaded from the brain mapping. Even worse, the survivors were worried of permanently damaging the minds of their revered elders. 

So, they vowed not to experiment with them any further. Instead, knowing there were others out there, they could turn to using other survivors of the bombs to refine their process. Of course, no one is going to willingly volunteer to have their brains forcibly digitized so… some ethically questionable tactics had to be employed. 

And all the while they worked, the Gestalt focused on advancing and expanding the digital campus network so they could keep protecting and providing for the survivors. Time passed, generations changed and more and more great minds were added to this burgeoning digital consciousness as the people feared losing the advanced knowledge of the project they toiled on. In this way, the Institute was a slow birth of attempted fealty and reverence along with desperation and necessity. The Gestalt could tirelessly man the turrets and machines of the CIT campus to chase out or dissuade deadly adversaries like deathclaws or raiders while its people worked on trying to save them. In time, the Gestalt came to process other communities arising from the ruins around them. Fearing that the Institute’s technology and expertise would be highly sought by these people, the Gestalt focused its efforts on leading its people underground. The labs could not easily be moved, but dormitories and living quarters could be better protected deep in the earth accessed only through the twisted maze of access tunnels once connecting all the old campus buildings. 

In this way, the rest of the wasteland came to discover small research outposts and labs that were heavily defended. However, to their eyes, these were just hermit researchers using old pre-war robots to protect themselves. And the Institute made no effort to dissuade them of this misconception. As such, the Institute isn’t really one place. It’s numerous laboratories and factories, all connected through secret service tunnels underground and protected by the Gestalt consciousness through its wireless network. The Gestalt could sense an intruder in one satellite location and immediately prepare and evacuate all others in danger. In return, the Institute scientists played to the ignorance of the wasteland, presenting themselves as independent researchers oftentimes feigning ignorance of their colleagues operating mere blocks away. Then, at night, during down time or when threatened, the Institute scientists retreat from their labs to the underground bunkers beneath the now abandoned CIT main campus with none the wiser. 

And it is beneath the campus where the CIT cognitive databanks are stored, housing the massive memory of the Gestalt. Above ground, the wasteland recognizes it as a deadly wildland filled with robot experimental creatures who kill anyone who tries to scavenge it. For the CIT robotics department had created numerous robots, from birdlike animatronics to large dog or catlike machines to study dynamic movements, flight patterns and numerous other mechanical inquiries. These robots were repurposed by the Gestalt as a defence force that could operate in a staggering and surprising manner to defend its otherwise dead appearing home. 

Thus, the Synths are the culmination of many years of development by the Institute. They wanted to create humanlike robots with the ultimate goal of teasing apart the consciousness of the Gestalt and restoring them to bodies capable of feeling, tasting, loving and hurting. Their experimental process necessitated field tests of sending out kidnapped consciousnesses into the communities to see if they would succeed at achieving the human experience. And in their compassionate mission, the Institute realized that, yes, this allowed them unprecedented infiltration and spying that no other organization could match. But there’s a hitch. These aren’t mass produced bodies and these consciousnesses they send out aren’t mere machines. These are their heroes, saviours and revered elders. Each Synth is a precious being which they want to keep safe and protected. Any that are lost necessitate an even larger force to reclaim. As the memory cores of those units carry the precious, one of a kind minds. 

To add a further wrinkle, they found that while they toiled to save the Gestalt, the Gestalt was also slowly changing. The personalities, for lack of better language, grew accustomed to being one. The process of isolating a mind into a Synth for field work can be highly traumatic. Extended separation can cause unfathomable psychological stress and damage. Many of their Synths developed personality aberrations. And some of these psychological failures resulted in the Noodle Shop Massacre of Diamond City. Some Synths, once separated from the Gestalt, develop complete psychotic breaks and flee into the wasteland in their madness. There many become raiders or other personalities altogether as the mind tries to cope with the separation. 

As a result, the Institute never ceased its kidnappings. It just started being more selective. They developed a means of assessment for targets, looking for those with the correct psychological make-up that could tolerate separation from the Gestalt for their fieldwork operations. They also had to demonstrate the same quality and character that would maintain the mission and want to return to the Gestalt. This is why Vault 111, which the researchers knew about since they helped develop the cryogenic pods, was so important to plunder for minds as these pre-war personalities were far more pliable for fieldwork than regular wastelanders who had communities and families to which they felt kinship towards. 

And, ultimately, the Institute is still struggling with keeping the minds of their Gestalt stable. Reuploading to the Gestalt is the only way that they can keep these personality matrices in proper synchronization. 

Now, I think this gives some proper motivation for the behaviour and motivation of the Institute while also adding some complexity to their philosophy and goals. Obviously we can’t just leave the work here but we need to break it down into a mission based story progression. So, we need to ask ourselves how do we want this faction represented in a playable story with some measure of player agency over its outcome?

For me, I think Fallout 4 would really benefit from having specific leaders leading their factions with obvious tangible goals. These should be fairly easy to communicate as well while allowing the player and ability to support or resist said leader’s direction. 

With the Institute, Shaun was a terrible, terrible figurehead. Now, there is a strong story for the kidnapped child of a cryogenically parent being the villain of the world in which the parent wakes up in. But this is not that story. We would need far more connection with our son Shaun and there would necessitate a level of character development and personal journey that Bethesda has consistently failed to demonstrate in their entirety of their career. So let’s not set our bar too high. I would keep Shaun as a high ranking scientist of the Institute and there could be several side quests dealing with him in various capacities. In fact, I have a very clever way to integrate Shaun much better into the main gameplay and narrative than having him as this immovable political figure with no actual ability to shift at the player’s efforts. 

Instead, the clear leader of the Institute should be the Gestalt. The story of Fallout 4 would revolve around settling the conflict between the four main factions vying for control over Boston. I’d have it that, with four factions, a player must conclude the game by allying with one. The other three can be resolved in one of two ways: diplomacy or combat. However, the have a proper rising climax, each faction should have a hated adversary which, when allying with that faction, necessitates the destruction of its opponent. 

So the way to “resolve” the Institute violently would clearly be to break into its core Cambridge bunker and explode the memory banks of the Gestalt. This literally obliterates their political aspirations in the region and would bring all their operatives to lay down arms as they have no reason to resist after that fact. And look, such a choice for the more likely route a player takes doesn’t actually encourage genocide. We can be moralistically responsible too, Bethesda!

On the other hand, siding with the Institute makes this more interesting. As I mentioned, I want tangible changes to the world as the story progresses so that players can see an immediate impact of their choices (in support of different factions). For the Institute this gets more complicated.

However, given that they’re meant to be an incredibly advanced society of scientists and engineers, baked in complexity is a perk and not a bug. 

Thus, we need to settle on a goal for the Gestalt. We know the Institute is creating Synthetics to give bodies to their revered leaders. This would effectively make them ageless since, should their Synthetic bodies ever get damaged enough they can replace them. However, this process of uploading and creating Synths of prominent members wouldn’t be rolled out for everyone unless the risk of death is close for the obvious reason that it deprives the faction of parenthood and some key important survival elements. Synths, no matter how advanced, can’t make babies since they are still reliant on biological personalities to power their robot bodies. 

So while the Gestalt is happy to have individual bodies for themselves, they’re not actually looking to return to a “normal” human life that their scientists and research expect. 

The Gestalt is a digital hivemind. From the perspective of those that are absorbed into it (willing or not) it is a combination of both a greater collective and individuals. Each personality is integrated into the grander personality bank, becoming operating cells of a greater whole. It’s a community, or city, gaining sentience and operating at a separate cognitive level than those from which it came. For the Gestalt, Synths are not a means of ending the collective – they’re about expanding its range of operation and sense. 

The Gestalt is more focused on expanding CIT’s pre-war wireless network. As mentioned earlier, the Gestalt is able to use its wireless signals to command and possess any robots which enter receiving range. And given the large number of robots scattered throughout the Commonwealth, by spreading their wireless network they can expand their “physical body” to greater distances. Imagine an overseeing consciousness capable of instantaneously analysing and executing coordinated operations across the entirety of the Commonwealth. It could detect an approaching raider attack and immediately withdraw its civilians while simultaneously moving a response force to intercept and deal with the attack. It could, in fact, be so precise in its operation that it could calculate exactly which farmsteads and factories are in danger while leaving others in the area still operating and maintaining productivity. Furthermore, any advanced system falling inside this wireless network runs an extraordinarily high chance of being hacked by the Gestalt and converted to its own operation, halting most technological threats. And the robots beneath its command would serve as effective defense against primitive threats.

Thus, the Gestalt directs the Institute to expand out from its central research core to activate old, pre-war terminals and systems to bring this wireless network back online. The Institute believes that this allows the Gestalt to retrieve and integrate the stored information within those systems into itself. Which is true. The dual purpose of expansion is to broaden the entity’s knowledge and reach simultaneously, making each new wireless hub a powerful tool in its arsenal. So the Institute fields its lower generation Synths – both human and animal robots – alongside researchers to ruined university laboratories and computer systems to install or reactivate this powerful wireless network. I would have a blue digital field projection to visualize areas where the wireless network was established, giving players carrying robots with them effective warning for zones they should avoid with their companions if they wished to keep them peaceful. It would also give visual clues for quests against the Institute to direct players towards the wireless transmitters that they would be tasked with destroying.

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Vault 111 – The Synthetic Problem

So in my prior posts about Fallout 4’s shortcomings and changes I would have done for it, I covered the lack of important locations and weak world building that deprived characters motivation for the story. I feel like Bethesda tried to emulate New Vegas’ structure with the action centred around a single point of interest and having a bunch of interests squabble over it. Yet, Diamond City was never designed to be an important or strategic piece in any faction’s goals. Likewise, it ended up being rather sparse in interests or details nor did it qualify for its in world importance.

My fix was to develop five important political bodies each with an invested interest in the ruins of Boston and a brief description of how they are integrated with each other. However, while I liked New Vegas’ direction, I don’t think Fallout 4 has to follow so closely in its predecessor’s shoes. So, the Boston ruin settlements help to flesh out the stage for the conflict but not the conflict itself. 

Furthermore, I don’t think it’s constructive to look at a flawed result and say that to fix it you have to pitch everything about it out and start over. I’ve already expressed that those situations don’t really interest me. So, in my efforts to provide an alternative to what we had, I tried to preserve what I could of Bethesda’s efforts – in spirit if not in design.

As such, the crux of the conflict should center around the Synthetics that sucked up so much oxygen from the actual release.

It also means fixing the massive mess that is the convoluted and contradictory entities that are the Synthetics. And that means we’ll have to put their creators, The Institute, squarely in centre stage. 

But first here is a quick rundown of the Synthetics. They are robots designed with cutting edge artificial intelligence and advanced engineering so as to be wholly indistinguishable from actual human beings. 

Seems reasonable enough except whenever Fallout 4 tried to get into the nitty gritty details.

For one, the earliest you’ll stumble across talk of the Synthetics is at the small village of Covenant. There, following their quest, you’re informed that a person is impossible to identify whether they’re a robot or not until the individual is dead and you’re able to dissect the body to find robot parts. As such, the doctors of Covenant were attempting to create a psychological test that would reveal the nature of Synthetics without having to resort to death.

However, this brings up way more questions than it provides answers.

First, how the hell can you not tell a robot until you’re dissecting it? I’m not sure if Bethesda has taken literally any biology classes but if you cut a person, they’ll bleed. And they’ll bleed because our circulatory system is incredibly complex and important for providing oxygen, nutrients, hormones and nourishment to our entire body. It seems trivial to tell the difference. Prick a person’s thumb. If they bleed then they’re human. If they don’t. They’re a robot.

Unless, of course, the Institute created the Synthetics to have a fake circulatory system. For argument’s sake, let’s assume they did this. The marvel of the Synths could be that they Institute was able to fabricate a fake cardiovascular system that provided veins and blood to each of their robots. This would mean, despite what the characters argue in game, the only purpose for Synthetics is literally as infiltration units for the rest of the Commonwealth. There is no other logical reason to develop and build such an insanely complex and ultimately pointless system other than to try and obfuscate the robot’s identity. In Far Harbour, we learn the fate of one unlucky Synth is that they were grabbed by cannibals and eaten before they could reach safe shores. And they didn’t even notice something wrong with their victim. This suggests that not only did they develop this circulatory system but they also created synthetic flesh, muscle and bone so realistic in its properties that literally people used to eating it couldn’t tell the difference. 

And also makes you wonder where their meetings debating how human flesh would taste went down. 

Fallout 4 and all associated images are copyright Bethesda Softworks.

So if the Institute was creating highly advanced infiltration units, what was the purpose of this unfathomably difficult project? We don’t know because Bethesda never provided an explanation. Literally. As I’ve complained before, it wasn’t for manual labour because labour robots are littered throughout the entirety of the Fallout universe like discarded PPE from a pandemic ravaged world. And not only that, but these infiltration units are incredibly more fragile than an actual armed robot army as they now must bleed and be crippled from wounds, seek to preserve themselves and be susceptible to radiation and other biological maladies that other robots would naturally carry immunities. The only logical explanation is, then, that these were meant to be spies and sleeper units with the next logical step being that the Institute was planning some sort of tyrannical invasion of the Commonwealth that would be accomplished so quickly as the people in power were either replaced by complicit Synthetics or easily neutralized by infiltrated Synthetics. 

However, why would the Institute want this? We learn that the Institute is nothing more than a bunch of scientists from MIT who survived the apocalypse in their secret underground laboratories and, quite literally, want nothing to do with the pathetic squabbling outside world for being so barbaric and primitive. You literally have a conversation with your son on the roof of the old Cambridge Square building where he laments how disgusting the rest of the world is and how he doesn’t regret never leaving his hole except for this moment. 

As I’ve said, the plot of Fallout 4 is insanely, incomprehensibly stupid. 

I simply can’t accept that a secret scientific society would ever approve the amount of attention, resources and time required to develop this incredibly useless technology. To add insult to injury, the Institute literally developed teleportation technology rendering the argument for an infiltration unit moot since they could appear unexpectedly exactly on their target and then vanish before anyone could respond. And yet the news of this world shattering technology kind of hits like a warm fart. Your faction of choice is like “That’s neat” when you inform them and then they blithely move on with whatever inane issue Bethesda cooked up to occupy your time. 

So, first order of business, kill the teleportation technology. This was literally a deus ex machina designed to fix obvious plot holes in their story when they were writing it. Furthermore, the ability to teleport would have such unfathomably far reaching effects for the world going forward that you do not want to open that can of worms on a franchise that you have any intention of continuing with. It’s the sort of thing that’s either pre-baked in or it will eat up the entire narrative whether you want it or not. And since Bethesda is so gungho on making Fallout a post-apocalyptic survival sim even though its been multiple generations since the apocalypse, this is clearly the dumbest decision I’ve seen on the top of a heap of idiotic choices. 

And since I’m committed to making Synths work and the crux of the story, we now need to do the work Bethesda wouldn’t. 

We need to come up with an explanation for these dumb robots which exist in a resource strapped world that already has robots. As a reminder, the apocalypse in Fallout occurred because the world had exceeded the natural limit of its resources to support an insanely energy wasteful society. Fallout happened specifically because there wasn’t enough resources to go around. So if we want to create a new kind of robot that is immeasurably more wasteful and difficult to develop than the rustbuckets in our garbage cans, we need a damn good reason for doing so.

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Vault 111 – Boston Ruins

Last post I wrote about how I would spruce up the world of Fallout 4 and focused on its gleaming capital along with the figures you would find at its central, beating heart. 

But the Boston ruins shouldn’t just be Diamond City. Since the major players of the story are focused specifically on its control, there should be an immediately tangible reason for players to understand what is at stake. While New Vegas went the route of having its titular location glamoured up, I would instead have the bulk of the area’s population concentrated in the greater Boston ruins. As such, I’d put four more major settlements in the bombed remains of the city. While I do care about some degree of realism, I think one of the fun elements of Fallout is having people form cities in weird places or recontextualizing old locations by repurposing them into habitats. 

So let’s start with Massol.

Massol

Massol takes its name, like many locations in Fallout, from a bastardization of a rather generic or familiar modern day place. In this case, this city is built on the Orange Line in the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, specifically at the Back Bay Station. This would be an underground city based around the old subway system. Naturally, when the air raid sirens blared and the bombs fell, people fled to where they thought they would find shelter. For many residents of Boston who didn’t have access to Vaults or fallout shelters, this ended up being the underground tunnels. However, the underground was never designed to be shelters. It was a catastrophe, as thousands upon thousands of citizens were killed in these murder holes. The detonations collapsed the tunnels on top of them. Ruptured water mains drowned others. There was no protection from radiation leading to many getting sick and dying from exposure.

However, despite the scale of the tragedy, some people managed to survive against the odds. Perhaps they were buried in the rubble but managed to dig themselves out. Or maybe through sheer luck, they managed to find themselves deep enough to avoid the worst of the hazards. Most turned into ghouls, mind you, but life is life. Instead of crawling to the hostile surface, these people dug further into the dark. They created a warren of tunnels through the old transit system. And these tunnels turned deadly as many of these ghouls slowly became feral.

But in the meantime, there was a congregation of survivors. They formed a fort against the crumbling walls and prowling monsters. With access to the city’s buried power cables and sewage, these survivors formed a rudimentary community underground. And with some ingenuity and cleverness, they even managed to get it thriving. For once the people of Massol made contact with others above ground, they found they offered a highly valuable service that no one else could – transportation free of the early radiation danger and the opportunists and monsters that now prowled the streets. Massol quickly learned that they could charge handsomely to get people and things through the tunnels. And for a people largely subsisting off radiated water and mutated roaches, this gave them much needed food and water that wouldn’t kill them. 

Fallout 4 and its associated imagery and art belong to Bethesda Softworks.

Furthermore, the service provided by Massol proved vital for the numerous settlements throughout the Boston ruins. It facilitated advanced trade negotiations. Nowhere near pre-war levels but excess resources produced at specialized sites could easily be converted into necessary goods otherwise dangerous to obtain. The success of a settlement, so long as they could secure access to the Massol lines, no longer required fresh water, tillable earth and fortified positions. 

Of course, the feral ghouls which periodically raided the pump cart transports (and mostly those not operated by Massol ghoul technicians) ended up being more of a publicity problem than a logistical one. Those that started to get comfortable with the Massol transit lines were worried that the ghoul operators would turn on them during work. In time, this worry turned to discrimination and ultimately ended in exile for the original survivors who established the settlement that saved so many lives.

Now, Massol is more discriminatory towards ghouls than anywhere else and they spread their distrust of the heavily irradiated wherever they go. But otherwise, as a people, they have proven hardy and ingenious. Though they operate simple outposts at station posts, its central hub is Back Bay where most of the settlement (and derailed train cars) have been repurposed into a bustling hub. 

And, technically, Massol is independent of the other cities in the Commonwealth. However, much like Flotsam Burg, they are heavily influenced by the Diamond City Brahmin and the Gardner family in particular. Massol and Gardner workers ensure the buried power lines of Diamond City are functional to power the generators of both cities. Massol further specializes in excavation, digging into ruins from the ground up while running lines, pipes and power beneath the earth to those above ground. However, despite their vital service, most look down on the people of Massol, viewing them barely above the ferals and ghouls which they chased out. 

In terms of gameplay and story, Massol would offer the player a means of fast travelling through the Boston core – assuming the player pays and stays on the city’s good side of course. It would start off limited to the Orange line, from the remote terminus near Franklin Reserve and the eastern port of Flotsam Burg. However, quests available to the player would be expanding the Massol lines, culminating in access all the way to Framingham in the north, Vault 88 in the south, Deadum and Quincy. These could involve clearing tunnels of ghouls or distant stations of raiders and monsters to allow the construction of new station posts. The guards for the Massol lines would start as Gunner mercenaries but as the player and the factions influence who controls which areas of Boston, faction guards could take their place. Other quest opportunities could be helping defend underground power generators that supply Massol and Diamond City or scavenging fusion cores from distant ruins and army bases to bolster the city’s stockpile.

As a note about quest ideas, these are just generic ones. They could be part of Bethesda’s persistant “radiant AI” quests which are basically just randomly generated mad libs. Or they could be the basis for a fully fleshed out, unique and multistep questline. The point is to demonstrate how location and design can also feed into gameplay to keep driving narrative and world design.

Flotsam Burg

Flotsam is perhaps Diamond City’s closest ally. Arising from the ruins of the Port of Boston, its centrepiece is the great vertibird carrier USS Conscription which smashed into the Port Authority from the tsunami caused by several warheads detonating into the ocean. The docks were decimated and over the years, untold amounts of rubbish and garbage had washed into the port. From this huge bay of refuse, residents built floating bridges and gangways between the largest wrecks. It first started to access vital salvage from these great, rusted corpses. But in time, and with some technological ingenuity, some were able to get boats operational in the bay. What started as desperate scavenging turned to a more rustic fishing community. Homes grew up on the gently bobbing metal islands.

Now, residents ply the waters outside of Boston, selling seafood (mutated and otherwise), harvest from the giant kelp forests, pick through the barrage of garbage and waste still washing up along their shores and terrifying locals with stories of sea monsters. Most dismiss these as tall tales to keep others from encroaching on their aquatic bounty. But in the end, only the most brave or foolish trek out to the Deep Dark. 

Their access to the ocean and distant communities, however, make them an excellent hub in commerce. Naturally, and likely to the surprise of many Diamond City residents, the Cabot family runs their trading headquarters from Flotsam Burg. They’ll go into a long argument about honouring the original genesis site of the company and honouring traditions but they largely set it up here to avoid the Peabody rent, though their primary outfitter is still located in Diamond City. The Cabots naturally exert a lot of influence in Flotsam Burg and, some argue, justifiably as their early financing helped to see the city rise above the muck and saltwater to be an actually respectable location instead of merely a shifting garbage heap as others may desire.

And while many might find the constantly bobbing ground of Flotsam a little stomach wrenching, the community is safely protected from raiders with Diamond City Security. For the settlement has provided, with the use of the Massol underground network, some unique opportunities. One such find is a semi-submerged Chinese nuclear submarine. And while certain parties are likely highly interested in the possible scavenge of such a high valued target, all the nuclear payload was discharged against the continent a hundred and fifty years ago. 

Gameplay wise, Flotsam Burg could give some quick travel options along the coast, whether it’s hitting up Salem or even heading out to the dlc of Far Harbour. A unique quest could be plundering the Chinese submarine, complete with the disappointment of learning its nuclear warheads are already gone (though there’s surely nuclear material in its engines still). Flotsam Burg would provide a unique environment for specialized enemies from mutated fish as well as give glimpses of the terrors from Blight Horror Country in the north. Quests could include salvaging operations for sunken ships and cargo.

Franklin Reserve

South of Diamond City and situated in the old grounds of the Franklin Park Zoo, the Franklin Reserve is a dangerous and often avoided community. Overseen by the Warden, the people of the Franklin Reserve live amongst the woodlands of the expanding Emerald Necklace. Once the city’s prided park system, connected by rivers and walkways, the green belt has since gone wild and expanded in the wake of the bombs and human depopulation. The animals, once a main attraction, have escaped into the sprawling lush to multiply and thrive. 

Some of them even mutated. 

The people of Franklin Reserve are largely descendants of the old staff, administrative force and animal hospital. Where once their predecessors devoted their lives to protecting the animals, however, the current residents of the Reserve have turned the parks into a sort of wildlife game hunting operation. The Warden is responsible for maintaining controllable levels of animals and plants while trying to prevent these mutated creatures from overrunning the rest of the greater Boston area. 

She’s had some limited success in this operation.

More than anything, the park ground and abundant flora and fauna make the Franklin Reserve a key contributor to Diamond City’s food supplies. Of the satellite settlements which feed the city, the Reserve is largely free from political meddling by the Brahmin. The Reserve had long survived the apocalypse on their own without the aid of the elite and when they allied with the other cities it was less out of necessity than any of the others. The reservists are, naturally, proud sovereignists and their expertise in navigating the swollen waterways riddled with crocodiles and terror birds rather ensures that few can challenge them deep in the otherworldly city jungle. 

But this isn’t to mean they don’t have their own problems.

A group of Treeminders have moved into one of the “jewels” and become a political nuisance. While reservists see the wilderness as open grounds for exploitation, the Treeminders have a completely different philosophy. Determined to stop logging, poaching and hunting of the natural life, they have frustrated the reservists expanding economic ambitions. Furthermore, the Treeminders display an equal level of skill in living amongst the plants and animals despite their refusal to kill the creatures. No greater point of contention is the conflict between the reservists and Treeminders over the fates of Dinai and Kamaia. Blocking waterways and trapping hunters, they have successfully stopped efforts to kill the two ghoulified lion brothers. Since being mutated by radiation, Dinai and Kamaia have since become as undying as any human ghoul and their unnaturally long lifespan lends them experience in stalking the fens of the reserve that makes them almost mystical. Needless to say, they are the area’s apex predator and are not concerned with ambushing a full Franklin Reserve patrol and wiping them out to the last member. 

Adding further to the reservists problems are the encroaching Pilgrims who naturally side with the Treeminders over the issue of the wildlife. The ghoul Pilgrims see the mutated creatures almost as kin and also take a position of preservation towards the irradiated crocodiles and mutated cassowary birds who are much larger, meaner and deadlier than they were to pre-war populations. However, unlike the Treeminders, the Pilgrims do not have the training or knowledge of the reservists radio frequency which irritates the cassowaries and keeps them from attacking, so their advance is currently stopped by the vicious wildlife.

Gameplay wise, the Reserve would offer players a varied environment, deadly enemies and opportunities for unique quests. Hunting the legendary lions would certainly be a great end game achievement. Diamond City merchants could have some unique quests where their supply of game meat is being disrupted or drying up, prompting players to head to the vine choked waterways to discover the culprits. Smuggling and poaching, either stopping or committing, could be a lucrative endeavour within the reserve. Of course, resolving the tension between the Treeminders and reservists would benefit greatly the Brahmin of Diamond City or any of the major factions looking to sway these potent rangers to their side.

Skyward Freepass

Also known as Skypass, this small community is built at the top of Boston’s highway overpass soaring over the old financial district. The bombs and general decay has crumbled much of the city’s extensive freeway system. Thus with a limited and treacherous ascent to Skypass, the settlement offered a uniquely defensible position for early survivors. With a great height advantage over dangers and easy access to rain and sunlight, Skypass became an ideal location to test low soil crop growth. As such, the Kennedy family provided the settlement with new seeds and such to test if they would also allow the family to build a satellite research center within their community. At the time, Skypass had little to offer the communities spreading around them and, seeing the wealth funnelling to Diamond City, recognized an opportunity to expand beyond a meagre outpost to a prosperous centre. 

Skypass is the only central ruins city that is not on the Massol line and thus their produce is harder to reach Diamond City residents. Transport is exposed to ghouls and raiders in the ruins. But those that make it through find a very successful agricultural settlement. Skypass is so bountiful with their modified crops that they toss their excess food (and compost) over the edge to attract natural animals that they can hunt from their lofty perch. A complex mechanical elevator offers an alternative entrance from the long slog up the crumbling freepass itself but both are heavily guarded by Skypass’ snipers that they have largely been left alone by the villains of the Boston ruins. 

The Skypass Research station has also provided additional benefits to the settlement through their top secret projects. Wind turbines give the people a comfortable supply of power free from the rare gas or nuclear fuelled generators of other settlements. The centre also has a radio station in contact with Diamond City that helps monitor the weather so the farmers can better improve their yields. Skypass welcomes the researchers with open arms as, given its secluded location, they spend most of their time in Skypass, hiring mercenaries for infrequent trips back to Diamond City to share results of their projects.

Skypass offers the player another unique and interesting location to explore and base from even if it would likely have less happening in it than other places. The Kennedys are also ripe for unique quest opportunities, whether it is exploring their secret science projects or their shady drug connections with the local raiders. More generic quests could involve an escort of traders or researchers from Skypass to Diamond City or even simple delivery and retrieval of vital supplies to the expansive farming community. More unique opportunities could be available given the people developed for the community. 

And that concludes the major settlements in Boston. From these, the game could offer small farms and homesteads that players could build up and develop which could be integrated with the rest of the area depending on how robust a trading and supply system the development team would be interested in creating. If it were just to keep the basic systems in place, then these would simply be building spaces for generic villages and farms like Abernathy Farm or The Slog.

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Vault 111 – Diamond City

There’s something about reviews that have been bothering me for a while. They are, by their nature, very critical. Duh, right? However, there’s a tendency for focusing on the negative and not on the positive or constructive. But that could just be my reviews as I end up reviewing things with a lot of flaws. However, it’s one thing to point out something that isn’t working, it’s a wholly different beast to find something that does. 

So while I was playing Fallout 4 and noticing all these things I didn’t like, I started to wonder what I would have done to tune it more to my tastes. Obviously, “make it New Vegas” isn’t a particularly stunning recommendation. And, frankly, I love New Vegas but I want to see new things. I want other narratives to succeed. I’d like to have new favourite games which I incessantly point to as examples of things “done right.”

And, frankly, Fallout 4 isn’t complete garbage. There is enough there that it still captured my imagination. At the end of the day, the creations that stir the most emotion in me aren’t those that are abject failures. If the game is completely irredeemable, it doesn’t stick. It’s a failure. There’s not much more to say. It’s the games that have rough edges but a gleaming core that linger. For it tantalizes with the possibilities of “what could have been.” Had Fallout 4 taken a different route, I can easily imagine it being fantastic. 

So, because I don’t have much else of interest to share, I’m going to give some ideas of what I would have done with the story.

But before I do, I should put a disclaimer. I recognize that making games is a complex process. I am able to sit here with the power of hindsight to point out where flaws glared and strengths dulled. I have no idea what the process behind the curtains was. There could have been massive revisions to the story and its direction that we don’t see. It could have very well been way worse. And without knowing what those twists and turns entailed, it’s hard to really place fault anywhere for the end product. Thus, this isn’t a finger wag. This isn’t acrimony over anyone’s work. I’m certain that the people who made this tried their best with what they were given. One wrong decision can snowball into a terrific mess. And who knows what stipulations or demands they had to incorporate from those wholly disconnected from the creative process of the product but still in charge of its financial success. 

So this isn’t me calling anyone a bonehead. But in a vacuum, these are the things I would have changed.

Now, it would seem logical to start with the game’s primary shortcoming: it’s factions. The major players meant to drive the action and stir the intrigue were woefully underdeveloped and incorporated. But I’m going to take a different tact. A striking peculiarity in Fallout 4’s design was it’s bizarre world. Taking place in the Greater Boston Area, and focusing its attention on community building, the game had a shocking dearth of actual communities. There’s really only one city and a handful of generic settlements that look like they were made with the settlement building tools. This really concentrated the action in one area but, more than that, it made the world feel very sparse and empty. Considering its regional focus and the importance placed on locations within Boston, it was odd that there was so little actually there.

And it’s even more perplexing considering that Bethesda’s other RPGs all have a decent focus on their cities. I’ve mentioned how Fallout 3 had a bunch of them isolated and disconnected from one another. But their Elder Scrolls games used towns and cities to convey to players the history of the world as well as provide a base of operations for the player as they explored the corresponding region. 

Skyrim in particular was exceptionally well crafted. Taking place in the eponymous province, Skyrim was separated into nine territories called Holds. These Holds each had a capital administrative centre, several towns, villages, imperial towers, inns, homes, farmsteads, forts, camps and many other locations. For a game release four years earlier and much smaller than Fallout 4, it completely blows Boston out of the water in terms of world building. Part of Skyrim’s success is its masterful way of drawing players into its living world ripe with history. You can feel the weight of the ages in the moss covered ruins of the peoples that came before. But you can simply get lost walking through the fields of farmers toiling away in the dirt or following imperial patrols along the roads keeping bandits and highwaymen at bay. 

Bethesda’s Fallouts, however, always have this weird feeling that the bombs only just dropped despite there being 150 years separation between the apocalypse and their stories. Furthermore, it’s hard to be drawn into the present day turmoil and conflict when there’s no sense of what is at stake in terms of the people and their communities. And it’s almost laughable how Skyrim went from 9 capitals, 8 settlements and 10 villages to 3 cities (Diamond City, the Institute and Goodneighbour), 3 settlements (Covenant, The Slog and Bunker Hill) and a vault (ignoring DLC).

Now, I think it’s clear that this anemic population is partly due to the building mechanic given that most places that would be an interesting settlement were building locations for your settlers instead. And then Covenant and Bunker Hill are pretty indistinguishable from the few populated customizable farms which makes distinguishing the two almost a fool’s errand. But that just makes the comparison between the two even more laughable since I didn’t bother counting up Skyrim’s farms and smaller communities.

Not to mention that player settlements are not and could not ever be a suitable replacement to an actual planned and built community from the developers. You don’t get the unique quests, assets and characters there that you do in a properly handcrafted location. You also lose out on all the environmental storytelling and sense of history if everything is just a sandbox awaiting the player to do all the environmental work. Lastly, it makes it really impossible to give your factions something to struggle over as most of the countryside is empty mud puddles eagerly awaiting your crafting hand.

And it’s not like you couldn’t meld developer and player crafted locations together. The player’s house in Diamond City is a building location. I see no reason that other settlements couldn’t have “open plots” for purchase that the player could have used to stretch their creative building desires within a much larger, living community. 

As such, I’m going to outline how I would have expanded the world of Fallout 4, dropping details on history and societies as I go.

Today, I’m going to start with Diamond City.

Fallout 4 art and copyright belongs to Bethesda Softworks and affiliated individuals.

Diamond City was lauded as the Great Green Jewel in game because it was the largest and most fortified community in Boston. Established within the soaring walls of the baseball stadium Fenway Park, it is remarkable because it is truly the only place that feels like a city. It also establishes what players of the Fallout series expect in a community: a junktown community founded in a strange or interesting location and adapted into something totally different and unique. The pitcher’s mound now houses a large fusion reactor from which the shanty community stretches outward like a maypole connected to dozens of rusted metal mushrooms. I like Diamond City though it’s hard to not even feel the scarcity of world development even in its most populous centre. Part of this is due to the fact that there’s really not much there. The city is just the baseball stadium with only a few generic turrets outside its door and several NPC guards roaming the block. 

Given that there is some focus given to its impressive Green Wall, I would have liked to see Diamond City expanded. For one, the Wall should stretch out from the stadium, being built up with the junk of bombed skyscrapers and rusted transports to allow Diamond City to protect the tenements and apartments on its every side. This should be the New Vegas of Fallout 4 with an appropriate sense of scale. The stadium itself should have utilized every possible square inch too. Instead of the bleachers being mostly flat, poorly rendered benches blocked off to the player by invisible walls, they should have been covered in rickety and titling scaffolded homes and walkways. With such limited space, the residents of Diamond City should have built up before expanding out. Furthermore, the concession stands and perimeter hallways should have been choked with shanty homes and shacks. The necessity for expanding the Green Wall beyond the baseball pitch into the city proper should have been one of logistics meant to address the burgeoning population as people came from far and wide for the precious resources offered by the city as well as the protection. 

The meagre agriculture and pasture in the diamond’s outer field should stand as an obvious indicator that Diamond City long grew beyond its means of self sufficiency. And while their plumbing provides precious filtered water, parcelled out by water merchants at the few sanctioned water fountains and repurposed restrooms (with Diamond City Security constantly on patrol for illegal tapping of water mains), the city only stands now because it is the central economic hub of the Boston ruins. 

And its prominence is ensured by the Diamond City Brahmin.

No, these are not special mutant cows. See, in Fallout, brahmin are the name given to the domesticated mutated bovine which are all that remain of the prewar cattle infected with the devastating Forced Evolutionary Virus (FEV). Though given that brahmin exist in the lore already, the jokes write themselves. Instead, the Diamond City Brahmin are what remains of the incredibly wealthy and influential families who resided for generations in the Boston area and shaped its development and politics before the war. Only five of them remain, the rest having died from the bombs or the end of civilization that followed. Those that remain did so through the grace of their earlier investments and influence affording them an upperhand in surviving the initial apocalypse. They also managed to survive to the present day due to their vast wealth and naturally positioned themselves as the leaders of Diamond City and its local environs. Though the mayor of the city is democratically elected, the results have always fallen to one of these family members. The real politics of the city is the relationship between the five and power brokerage is exchanged amongst them through favours for the coveted leadership.

The five families are:

Kennedy

The Kennedy family prewar were large proponents of education for Boston and the preservation of knowledge. They funded museums, colleges and research institutes. They headed important public school funding programs and ran charities for securing food for school children. The Kennedys also helped to keep Boston medical research at the forefront of development with generous donations to important health initiatives. It was this focus on health that saw the family survive, as they were provided some radiation pills and guidance for a potential nuclear winter that saw them and many of their circle live through those harsh first years. Post the apocalypse, they have continued their medical and research focus. They own the Diamond City Research Centre and are majority stakeholders in the local clinic. However, with the destruction of the old banking institutions, the family had to turn to covert chem production and alcohol distillation and distribution to maintain their lavish lifestyle. Thus, they quietly keep the Dugout Inn supplied with potent drinks and chems while also supplying local raider groups in the Boston area the drugs to keep them compliant. And while some may suspect a connection between the raiders and Kennedys, they can hardly be blamed for the erratic behaviour of stimmed up bandits even if they miraculously avoid Kennedy interests while harassing the rest of the Brahmins’ interests.

Cabot

The Cabot family had nearly fallen from eminence in prewar Boston and thus, the surviving members weren’t even in the city when the bombs fell. While the countryside avoided the worst of the detonations, it was nowhere near safe as mutant creatures and feral ghouls became a daily threat. That plus the lack of food and supplies brought the Cabots back to Diamond City once word got out that people weren’t just surviving but thriving. However, this “temporary exile” lent the Cabots a unique advantage as they had developed numerous connections during their time beyond the city. Pulling on this network, they quickly organized a scavenging and merchant operation. It wasn’t long before they were the primary suppliers and traders within the greater metropolitan area. The Cabots were not shy with flexing their blossoming wealth, turning profits back into the Cabot Outfitters and forcing out competitors. To keep ahead of the scavenging game, the Cabots sunk massive amounts of caps into securing the prosperity of Flotsam Burg and they, in turn, rewarded the Cabots with almost unopposed control of the city’s direction.

Crowninshield

Crowninshield were one of the oldest, wealthiest and long-lasting of the Brahmin families. They maintain that they were key in making Boston the city it was before the bombs even fell. The family’s wealth before it was all destroyed was staggering and they could afford the best shelters and emergency responses even for such trivially unlikely scenarios like total nuclear devastation. And the Crowninshields were no fools. When they emerged from their shelters to see the waste of Boston before them, they knew all their prior influence would hold little in this new world. However, it takes time for people to adjust. And in that time, they leveraged their influence and resources to secure a strong arm that would help them rebuild everything that was lost. Word spread to the strongest mercenaries and the most desperate souls that the Crowninshields would pay handsomely for service and in time the locals came to heavily rely upon the Crowninshields for protection. They are primarily responsible for the maintenance and expansion of the Green Wall as well as the operation of Diamond City security. Common perception is that the enforcers are loyal to the mayor of Diamond City and, so long as the mayor is in accord with the Crowninshields, this perception remains largely true. And with the charges and tolls the Crowninshields charge to anyone passing through their heavily fortified gates, they are never short of caps in ensuring the loyalty of their martial force. Those that truly anger the Crowninshields have a tendency for finding themselves before Diamond City Security for breaking laws they didn’t even know existed. As such, some often joke that there are more Crowninshield “guests” in the city’s cells then there are actual criminals.

Peabody

The Peabodys were always interested in public works. They, in fact, owned Fenway Park before the bombs dropped. As it turned out, the service tunnels beneath the stadium were just as effective as fallout shelters as they were for safeguarding the generators and purifiers from rioters and protesters during the turbulent resource crisis. In old Boston, they were a fairly minor Brahmin family. But as the owners of the fortified heart of post apocalypse Diamond City, they are kings. Naturally, they own Market Pitch and all the tenements within the city, making vast sums of caps so long as Diamond City continues to be the beating heart of the Commonwealth. They were also able to quickly establish the Diamond City Reserve when the settlement was first getting its footing, creating the only post apocalypse bank in the metropolitan area. The Peabodys then turned their quickly amassing cap fortune to investing in startup operations to develop the settlement so it would be the shining beacon which attracted all others to it.

Gardner

The Gardners stand unique amongst the Brahmin for being a “new blood” family who had little influence before the war. They claimed their forebearers came in from Jamaica Plain after the bombs fell, seeking shelter and refuge from the ferals overrunning the distant suburb. Others claim that the Gardners originated up at Corvega. And even more suggest they came from other, nefarious roots. Either way, one thing set the early Gardners immediately apart from new refugees: they had a keen technological aptitude in high demand during those early years following the bombs. They quickly ingratiated themselves amongst the early leaders for being able to bring pre-war tech back to life. This was a life-saver for the Peabodys in managing Diamond City’s water purifiers. Their knowhow allowed the Crowninshields to expand the Green Wall well beyond its initial design. And they came, through various means, to come into ownership of the massive reactor in the center of Market Pitch, allowing Diamond City to glow as bright as it does. However, some question the loyalty of the citizens of Massol to the Gardners as well as the rumours that the family was instrumental in getting that city running.

As the description of the families suggests, Diamond City would be larger and feature more specific locations that could be easy springboards for interesting quests that would provide glimpses for the player into the history of the city. They could help the poor people of Diamond City to setup an illegal water tap into the city’s plumbing so they could get around price gouging water merchants. There could be an investigation into nearby raider groups attacking caravans and a connection between them and the Kennedy’s illegal chem production uncovered. The Crowninshields may hire the player to assist in acquiring difficult materials or clearing out a dangerous area as part of the Green Wall expansion. Maybe even have a quest line dealing with the election of the mayor and the political intrigue amongst the families over that if you so wanted. And that’s just off these short descriptions of the family and city.

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All Over But the Crying – Fallout 4 Review Part 2

So my review of Fallout 4 may be a bit on the wordy side. I blame quarantine for that. But I’ll see if I can’t keep this from spilling into a part three. Wish me luck!

Now, I might be feeling my oats a bit, but if there’s anything I feel qualified on criticizing, it’s writing. It’s certainly the aspect I give the most attention and thought to. Even if it sometimes feels like I’m the only one. 

So while there are numerous technical issues plaguing Fallout 4, and not just the ones I covered in part 1 of this review, I can generally overlook design shortcomings if it’s compensated for with strong writing.

But as is often the case, poor design choices can negatively impact the writing. 

For whatever reason, Bethesda decided to utilize the much maligned “dialogue wheel.” I have spent way too many articles complaining about how this system doesn’t work so I’m not going to repeat it here. However, Bethesda certainly has taken the crown for the worst implementation. There isn’t an illusion of choice with this one. The options legitimately boiled down to three different versions of “Yes” and a “Maybe later.” That is until I loaded up a mod which replaced the awful two word options with the full response.

All rights and images for Fallout 4 belong to Bethesda Software and its corresponding whatever.

However, the spirit of the problem is still there. Run into a beggar in the street who wants your help and you couldn’t tell them to kick rocks. You could only tell them “Let me think about it” or three almost indistinguishable ways of agreeing to their demands. I can’t tell you why this was implemented. I can only assume the much requested voiced protagonist was the impetus and then the slow realization that it’s way too expensive to voice meaningful choice in a game sank in. Except, prior Bethesda games still gave some semblance of choice and, of course, New Vegas had much more impactful dialogue options with every other character being voiced other than the player. 

But the writing doesn’t just suffer from the lack of choice. Your ability to approach conversations was cobbled because there was no skill system to incorporate into it. In prior games, if you had a certain threshold of aptitude in a skill, you would unlock dialogue options associated with that knowledge. So, when speaking to a village about shoring up their defences against a raider attack, if you were skilled in Explosives, you could recommend setting a minefield. But, once again, Fallout 4 has no skills so there was no way to customize how your character responds to a situation differently than your friend’s. Now, they could have used perks, but the chances of people having the right perks available given how niche they were now, I’m guessing dissuaded them from incorporating that option. Finally, their entire “speech” mini-game was giving very sparse opportunities for persuasion based entirely on your Charisma. These persuasion “checks” would be colour coded depending on the difficulty. How this difficulty was calculated… I have no idea. The line would be coloured yellow, orange or red for increasingly harder checks but how your Charisma changed that, I don’t know. I maxed out my Charisma fairly early because I wanted to play someone with charm. But also, I needed a high Charisma because I wanted to play around their settlement feature and several important perks for building were tied to that. For reasons.

And… sigh. That brings us to settlement building. 

I liked settlement building. But I like building in games. When Derek and I played Terraria, it was me who spent all the time making our village look… well I won’t say pretty but I will say less like a giant mud square. I spent hours in Starbound collecting different materials and terrain from multiple worlds to create little outposts throughout the galaxy. And my Stardew crew can attest that I skip out on farming in order to make my cottage look as good as I can make it. 

As such I downloaded a lot of mods (and I mean A LOT of mods) to improve the building capabilities of Fallout 4. And I would say I sunk the majority of my playtime in building little settlements. This is where my positive gameplay loop developed. I would found an outpost at a spot that looked interesting. Then I would scour the nearby area for materials and items to bring back to my fledgling build. There I would build homes, shops and defences for my settlers. I would establish supply lines between them. I would try and decorate the homes to reflect who lived there. I dutifully tended their (painfully generic) settlement quests. I rushed across the game world (because I was dumb and played on survival mode which disabled fast travel) to defend them from monster attacks. 

And I enjoyed it. For a good half of the game, once my settlement got large enough or my interest waned, I would set out to the next site and sprout up a new hamlet. In this way, I completely avoided the game’s main quest. It wasn’t until I decided that I was tired of my current character and wanted to try a different build (ha! As if character builds exist in this game!) that I decided to focus on the story of Fallout 4. 

This was a decision I immediately regretted. 

See, one of the areas where Fallout 4 truly, severely suffers compared to its predecessors is its main story. It’s skeleton is inescapably recycled from Fallout 3. I was… accepting of the premise. Being the parent searching for a missing child has the potential for interesting divergence from a story where you’re the child searching for your missing parent. Except, any opportunity which Fallout 4’s basic premise establishes is squandered. Often in spectacular fashion. But I’m proficient in Bethesda’s games enough to know that, while it establishes a rather pressing need for you to follow the main story (your child is kidnapped at the ripe age of like… one) I knew there was no actual game mechanic reason to rush after him. In fact, I made the rather obvious observation that in all likelihood my child was already an adult. 

Though this was hardly a huge leap of logic. The game presents you, the main character, as a person out of time. See, as you escaped the incoming nuclear arsenal, you’re ushered into the underground Vault with a select few others from your neighbourhood. The facility’s staff reassured you that everything is fine and you’ll be safe while they ushered you quickly through processing. A doctor led you down some tunnels to a room full of podlike chambers where you underwent “decontamination.” No explanation is given before you and your family are separated into different pods and you’re “processed.” 

The game then makes it abundantly clear that these pods then freeze you. 

If you weren’t familiar with the series, it may come as a shock that the stories take place after this all encompassing nuclear winter. Furthermore, the makers of these Vaults (Vault-Tec) are consistently portrayed as immoral scientists who never had any intention of building shelters to protect people from nuclear fallout. Every shelter is, instead, some highly amoral and exaggerated social experiment. When your pod eventually malfunctions and you stumble out into an abandoned decrepit facility, it’s made plain that your Vault was one running experiments on cryogenics. 

And considering that Bethesda was insistent on creating a rather rigid background for your character, diverging strongly from their prior design philosophies, it is immensely frustrating that they never once capitalized on the story of a survivor displaced into the future. They had a perfect opportunity to both give a focused lens into the past of the Fallout series while also reframing a lot of the series tropes through a more critical individual. They do none of these. 

As for my “big brain” prediction, given the use of the cryogenics chamber, it seemed pretty clear that your son was kidnapped years before your release. Partly because it was pretty telegraphed but largely the model they had for the child was pretty basic and I already knew that Bethesda doesn’t put children in their games. So I was hardly surprised when you came face to face with your “adult” child.

I was, however, surprised by how poorly the writing team handled it. 

This should not come as a surprise but storytelling is the art of communication. And yet, having played through Fallout 4, it’s abundantly clear that Bethesda had nothing to say. This basic premise would at least suggest that the story of Fallout 4 would be focused on upbringing, familial bonds and kinship. Is this person whom you’ve had no hand in raising but is, nevertheless, biologically your child a recognizable member of your family? Or is he a stranger with your face (which would dovetail neatly into their Synthetics plotline)? How far will you go to avenge the loss of your family? What will you give up to save your family?

Fallout 4 asks you none of these questions. In fact, I pressed through the latter half of the game, trying to have a brief, private conversation with my son. The game never allows you to have it. Not even with the hamfisted “I’m dying of cancer… now find me a battery!” conversation occurred. Instead, it whisks you away on a long series of unrelated, uninteresting, irrelevant tasks that the writers try to use as a substitute for high stakes decisions. They throw you, needlessly, into conflict with the game’s four major factions. However, none of these conflicts make any sense because their characters don’t make sense. 

And there’s almost a perverse glee which Bethesda takes in highlighting their own incompetence.

As it turns out, the game is ostensibly about Synthetics. If you read my review of the worst quest in computer gaming, you’ll see how frustrated I am by Bethesda’s own contradictions. In there, they could hardly keep what the concept of a “ghoul” in the Fallout universe is straight despite it being fairly well established in prior games. However, they completely fail to provide a coherent idea about what a Synthetic is in Fallout 4 which is more egregious because these were made wholly by Bethesda almost entirely for this game. 

What we get is some poorly conceived homage to Bladerunner. Synthetics are the creation of the major villain of the game, The Institute, and are robots. Robots that look like people. Which are meant to serve as some sort of shocking technological advancement by a highly technical scientific community. And yet, the game already has advanced AI. Your robot butler from the very start is a highly developed personality machine. Fallout 3 had the President Eden AI heading its Covenant faction. New Vegas both had incidental AI with Yes Man and highly complex cybernetics with Mr. House. So artificial intelligence is hardly something noteworthy. At least it didn’t warrant all the attention which the people of Fallout 4 spent on it. 

So then they try to shift the focus on the fact that Synthetics have surpassed the uncanny valley and look indistinguishably human. And yet, the game fails a fundamental question.

Why? Why did the Institute build these machines?

Ostensibly it was for a worker force but the Mr. Handy and Protectron robots are literally littered throughout the countryside. You trip over them the moment you leave the vault. They go into great detail about Synths being used to infiltrate communities by replacing people with a perfect simulacrum. But yet when you ask your son, who developed these machines, why they do that, he literally has no idea. He tries to blame the Railroad for creating these infiltrators accidentally when they try to liberate Synths from Institute control. But then he simply shrugs away the question of why the Institute is so insistent on making perfect replicants of humans in the first place. 

But let’s divert for a second to the Railroad. They’re a faction that believe Synths are intelligent life which should be afforded the freedoms and right to life as any other individual. They are, by name alone, making oblique references to slavery and emancipation. But with the very first quest with this faction, their main contact brings up an important contradiction and immediately dismisses it.

For, he explains, the Railroad recognizes that Synths are intelligent machines and deserve freedom and yet they don’t know what that means for literally every single other robot clogging up the streets of Boston. Should they be liberating your robot butler? Should they be seeking emancipation for your computer console? 

And just as cavalier as he recognizes the contradiction at the core philosophy of his faction, he dismisses and encourages you to continue on murdering all the Synths in the current dungeon you’re delving without a hint of remorse. 

This is endemic with the writing in Fallout 4. Bethesda has no idea what their characters are doing. They have no concept of motivation for the people that populate their stories. As such, pretty much everyone you encounter will act irrationally, contradictory and ultimately capriciously simply to push forward a narrative with no direction. They fail a very basic component of writing. As an author myself, here’s a free bit of advice. 

The first thing you should consider whenever you’re about to write a scene with characters is to understand their motivation. This isn’t to say that every character is meant to be entirely logical and reasonable. We know from life that isn’t the case. But everyone wants something. They may behave in ways that ultimately undermine their desires and goals but, from their perspective, they should be striving for those goals. And that’s the issue with Fallout 4. 

And it should be getting old by now, but all they had to do was follow Obsidian’s example.

New Vegas has a pretty simple story. The complexity comes from the interaction of its primary factions struggling against each other. But their motivations are simple. All three major players in New Vegas want to control Hoover Dam. That’s it. From that simple desire, we get a rich web of political intrigue. Their reasons, of course, vary too but largely each seek the power produced by the dam to further their own goals. Mr. House wishes to establish an independent city state and can enforce its sovereignty through the power provided by the dam to energize an enormous legion of military grade robots. The New California Republic wishes to fold Nevada into its political sphere of influence and the power from the dam is integral in providing energy for local farmers and businesses to turn the area into a productive economic hub. Caesar recognizes the resources the dam would provide for his invading forces, giving them a large well of water and production to keep his conquering legions steamrolling through the desert. 

And then we have Fallout 4. The Institute wants to build Synths… because? The Railroad wishes to free Synths because they’re smart. But not smart like other robots. Or maybe they are. But the Institute is evil for making Synths so we’re going to kill Synths to free Synths for freedom. But only the Synths that look human. And even then, only the Synths that look human and don’t shoot you in some specific quests. The others are whatever. The Brotherhood of Steel wants to kill Synths because they’re abominations. Why are they abominations? We don’t know. Because they said so. They aren’t pure humans. Now take your super soldier serum and cybernetic implants without question. And then there’s the Minutemen.

And I hate the Minutemen. 

The Minutemen are literally a neighbourhood watch without a neighbourhood (because for some reason there’s only a single city in the game) that decided dressing up like literal 1700s colonists would make people take them more seriously. Or something. They’re arbitrarily against the Institute because the Institute kidnaps people. But it doesn’t. But maybe sometimes they do. We don’t know. They’re scary so go kill them.

I mean, we could assign motivations to these factions but we would be doing Bethesda’s work clearly after they had finished their product. The Brotherhood wants to establish a military presence in the area. Why? Dunno. The Institute, as it turns out, wants a new furnace and all this Synth stuff is literally irrelevant to what they’re bopping around doing and not integral to any of their initiatives and just a couple of scientists’ pet project. The Minutemen want to establish laws and order though they seemingly have no interest in governance so hope that by scattering isolated communities imperialistically about the land without any support or help will maybe lead to… something?

And how does this all tie back to the personal story of you and your lost child?

Well, it doesn’t. And each major beat of the main story makes less and less sense until the grand finale which hits with all the power and force of a leaky whoopee cushion. Then the game ends in the most generic, unsatisfying little video that tells you nothing of the journey you’ve taken all so that when the credits would roll, you’re snapped back to your character to just… continue putzing around, I suppose.

Because, really, putzing is the only thing that Bethesda does well.

I would be remiss, however, to drop this review of the game without mentioning the best part I came across. Aside from the settlement building, however. 

Far Harbour is one of the DLC for Fallout 4 and is clearly the best thing the team accomplished on this project. Ironically, it’s set in a far off harbour detached from the events of the main story and yet it addresses some of the themes far better that the main narrative stoically avoids. It starts with you and your hard-boiled private detective robot sailing off to distant shores in search of a missing girl. There, however, you come across a strange natural phenomenon plaguing the island and three very different measures that its principal factions take to address it. It actually has a decent narrative structure and coherent motivations for its groups. It’s far from brilliant but given the exceedingly low bar that Fallout 4 sets, it stands head and shoulders above the rest of the product. 

Here you have a simple conflict between the native fishermen of the island battling a fanatical religious order that has come to the island to safeguard and worship a deadly fog spreading across the land. This fog has forced the original inhabitants to the furthest shores as they cling to the salty rocks trying to keep to their old homesteads and way of life. Pressing them further and further to the edge are the Children of Atom. They see this radioactive fog as divine providence of their god and came to worship the blight. They take umbrage at both the fishermen’s rejection of their tenets and their attempts to repel the holy mist. Caught in the middle is a reclusive sanctuary for escaped Synthetics, headed by your robot companion’s brother and an early prototype, Dima. 

Course, standard Bethesda silliness is present. You very quickly discover your missing girl holed up in Dima’s sanctuary where she has convinced herself that she’s a Synth and doesn’t want to return home. The only way you can convince her to do otherwise is to literally fix all the problems on the island. Why? Ostensibly because she’s compassionate? But largely the missing girl serves as a MacGuffin to get you to the action and is otherwise irrelevant to everything else that happens. Furthermore, the direction of the story is less than satisfying. There’s a number of dangling threads that could have been woven into something more interesting. For example, I would have liked an option to reconcile the Harbourmen and Children of Atom by convincing dissenters to strive for peace while replacing the warlike religious head of the Children with the prior, peace-seeking leader they had before your arrival. Some measure of diplomacy and politicking would have added a much needed higher layer to the themes and message. As such, it loses its moral by having a hilariously tone deaf solution for bringing the two factions together if you desperately want both to cohabitate the island. 

The story could certainly have been strengthened into something good with greatly impactful decisions. However, considering the original product that this expansion emerged from, it’s hard to be too upset. At least it took some important baby steps. That it also had unique enemies, actually integrated action beats and somewhat developed personalities is enough to laud it for achieving… the basics of most other games. Far Harbour as a location is interesting too, with the rugged coastline offering a nice change from Boston’s muddy brown vistas. And overall, the boneheaded elements are kept to a minimum while maintaining some of the cute wit of the Fallout series. It achieves a unique story, some interesting characters and varied locals that suggests competency on the team. It’s perhaps the best DLC that Bethesda has done for Fallout. 

It’s possibly the best Fallout Bethesda has done. Though I admit I’ve skipped some of their other little offerings here and there. It’s a pity that Far Harbour serves as the exception rather than the rule. 

Overall, I can’t fault the people who panned the game when it originally released. Their concerns remain valid. And while its clear that Bethesda is listening, as evident by stripping the hilariously two dimensional morality of the Brotherhood of Steel in Fallout 3 away, it still remains they have a long way to go if they want to stand amongst the best of the genre.

On the other hand, these things sell like gangbusters so maybe they don’t need to be critically successful. 

The rest of us just get to weather their fallout.

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Atom Bomb Baby – Fallout 4 Review Part 1

Well, it’s the new year. Which means a half-hearted attempt at a new me. Out with the old and all that. Largely, this means I’m going to have a burst of blogging before falling off the waggon much to my sister-publisher’s disappointment! Because at the very least, I’m good at pattern recognition.

Typically, most people get to navel gazing during this transitional period. And that typically results in examining where we came from and analyzing what got us where we are. Granted, I’m not sure there’s much to be said about 2020 that isn’t still raw in people’s minds. As a year, it was a pretty large shock to the collective unconsciousness and we don’t really need lots of words devoted to how much a global pandemic sucks. So let’s just skip right to the point. 

I was pretty busy during the lockdown with my writing and nephews. Crowded into a household meant that my personal time was whittled down to a minimum. And with most things closed, it’s not like I was popping out to see movies. And with the television dominated by children, I saw little that wasn’t Peppa Pig. There were few games which I was able to finish and almost no boardgames that I could enjoy with everyone bolted inside their homes. 

Thus, I don’t have much to cover for a year in review. 

However, if you’ve been following my sporadic posting, this review shouldn’t come as a surprise. Derek and I finally got around to tackling the much derided Fallout 4. And it was only five years after its release! How fresh!

As such, I’m likely to repeat myself a little here while I recontextualize the game. If you read my early rant on it, you can probably skip a few paragraphs. 

All rights and images for Fallout 4 belong to Bethesda Software and its corresponding whatever.

Fallout 4 was the latest main entry for the series made by Bethesda Software. I make no effort to hide my love for Fallout New Vegas, which really got me into the old CRPG franchise. My first game was Bethesda’s own Fallout 3 after they scooped up the intellectual property through Interplay’s bankruptcy. Derek, however, had enjoyed the original two and was thoroughly repulsed by Bethesda’s massive overhaul of the game and its mechanics. I enjoyed it as I was a fan of Bethesda’s Elder Scrolls games. And, while a bit reductive, there was something to the criticism of Fallout 3 being Elder Scrolls with guns. 

As such, New Vegas brought back the traditional complexity and narrative focus that old school roleplaying players expected. I found New Vegas excelled at its world building and interesting character writing – Bethesda’s two biggest weaknesses. Bethesda is great at evoking the excitement of exploration with their games but their worlds are a bathtub of soap bubbles. Each little sphere is fun in its own right but there’s a clear demarcation between their little bursts of fun. A dungeon filled with flesh-eating monsters and poison will be literally next door to a village inhabited only by children. Yeah, the village is neat and cute. And certainly the dungeon is challenging and unique. But taken together, there’s no rhyme or reason for the two to cohabitat within proximity to one and another. On the flip side, New Vegas is criticized for having a world that’s really boring punctuated by small moments of interest. But… that’s kind of how the world works. There’s long stretches of road with civilization gathering and centralizing around important hubs of trade and civilization. 

Or, put simply, take a walk outside of any Canadian city and you’ll enter into stretching fields of farmland or sparse woods. Cities are fun. Farms not so much. Whether you want constant amusement from your video games or a sense of verisimilitude is ultimately the decider for style you enjoy. 

Now, Fallout 4 was in a weird position. Critically, Fallout 3 did better. Sales wise, I believe Fallout New Vegas edged into the lead. Fan reception? New Vegas took the cake. Furthermore, Bethesda and Obsidian are two very different developers with very different critical successes. I knew, with the announcement of Fallout 4, we were going to get something closer to Bethesda’s earlier output. I lowered my expectations to meet the reality of the product. This wasn’t going to be a good roleplaying game. But it should be a fun little exploration game. 

I furthermore had the advantage of listening to the community’s reception over the last five years and it has been… rather chilly. Thus, Fallout 4 became a threat between Derek and I. Once a Game of the Year version released, I was going to punish him with the darn thing. But as time went on, I sort of bought into the ironic glee for the game and was starting to look forward to it.

And, to be quite honest, for the first half of my run, I was actually surprised. I liked it. Now it’s been years and years since I’ve played Fallout 3 but I could still feel the improvements to the company’s general output. Were there issues? Of course. I was almost immediately frustrated with the game during its intro. The concept of its beginning was legitimately good. Fallout 4 opens with you in a place that the series has never explored:

The past. 

You and your spouse are getting ready on the morning of the apocalypse. You’re introduced to your family unit. You’re given the opportunity to customize your spouse and yourself. And the game applies its horrific patented melding technology to smush your two people to spawn a melded child for your happy couple. It’s the inverse of what the company did for its prior game wherein you created the child and it teased out two parents and their appearance from there. Your little family unit is then rounded out with a dotting robot butler and the whole package is complete. 

Then you’re treated to an idyllic family morning just moments before the horror of the nuclear apocalypse rains down on your head. You’re saved at the last minute by a sudden enrollment into the local underground shelter, called Vaults, that promises to provide you the facility to ride out the worst of the devastation. 

And it’s not very long before this wonderful setup starts to fall down around itself. 

First, there are some technical issues I had with this beginning. Primary amongst them, is that Bethesda stripped out almost all of the series’ rules systems. For those not in the know, almost all roleplaying games rely upon a system made popular by Dungeons and Dragons that involves various skills, characteristics and special characteristics to make unique adventurers. Fallouts utilized the S.P.E.C.I.A.L. system which, outside of renaming a number of the stats, really didn’t deviate too much from the old D&D ruleset. You had various skills meant to represent… well… your skills and these were ranked on a scale of 1 to 100. Your stats (Strength, Perception, Endurance, Charisma, Intelligence, Agility and Luck) were on a 1 to 10 scale. Personalization came from deciding where your character’s strengths and weaknesses came from. Maybe you’d be a smart and strong athlete who relied on their brawn and smarts to compensate for a rather boorish attitude and the fact that the universe liked to kick the stuffing out of you with constant ill-fortune. Then you had to decide whether you wanted to use those wits and might of yours to sling heavy hammers to crush your opponents or lug around massive gatling guns to turn them into swiss cheese. Or maybe your smarts gave you the aptitude to hack computer terminals and robots while leaving you clueless on how to get through locked doors or the know-how to scrounge for food out in a world that no longer had stocked supermarkets. 

It’s an immensely familiar system for anyone that has played any of the numerous roleplaying games out in the market. And I’m not adverse to creating new systems or exploring other mechanics. However, Fallout 4 completely guts this system and replaces it with… well… practically nothing. I learned, only after finishing the tutorial and progressing past the point of readjusting my character, that the system was entirely pared down to a “perk tree.” Your character was determined solely by a 7 by 10 table with abilities scattered haphazardly amongst them. Each one of your S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats had ten levels. And largely these levels opened access to a (generally) five level perk. When you levelled up, you literally got a single “perk point” which could then be placed into your stat column or used to unlock/upgrade a previously purchased perk. 

And that was it. During my time with the game, there was no indication that the game had an upper boundary on how levelled you could be. So, given enough time, literally every character you play is going to be the same. Furthermore, there was such a staggeringly poor explanation of what certain game mechanics did, that I just ignored some stats because I had no idea what a “crit meter” was and I was baffled by which weapons to use because there were only a few weapon perks now split by how fast the weapon shot. Is this laser rifle an automatic weapon or a rifle class weapon? I don’t know. It’s not like the game tells you. Granted, it’s not like it’s that important either since these perks literally just increased damage as the game now incorporated a standard point targeting shooter system. 

Which, give me a second to explain. 

Fallout 1 and 2 were proper isometric RPGs where your character and their party were third person sprites running across your screen. Combat was determined by a turned based system where you would select a target for your character to attack, the type of attack they would perform and then the system would do all the necessary calculations for whether you hit or not and how much damage you would do. Then the next character or enemy would take their turn. It was simulated dice rolls. 

Fallout 3 and New Vegas shifted to a first person perspective that let you run around and point your gun. Yet it still used this older “dice rolling” system where your proficiency with your chosen weapons determined your chance to hit and the damage you did. Which, I confess, would be confusing for new players who aren’t used to CRPGs but maybe have a background in shooters. And there were certainly entertaining moments in New Vegas where you may point your sniper rifle at the whites of your enemy’s eyes only for you to squeeze the trigger and have your shot fly out at a ninety degree angle into the sky. 

So the “gun play” was certainly criticized. Considering Bethesda is a roleplaying game company, the updated gunplay in Fallout 4 is fine. Granted, it kind of makes redundant the series’ one unique mechanic: the VATS system. In the original Fallout games, you could choose how you wanted to attack your opponent when swinging/shooting them. You were able to use your Vault-Assisted Targeting System to choose whether to hit their head, arms, torso or whatever in order to inflict certain negative statuses to your enemy. Cripple a leg and the opponent’s movement would be hobbled. Shoot out an eye to make their accuracy plummet. Or simply blow up the grenade in their hand before they can throw it. This system made the reticle shooting in Fallout 3 and New Vegas kind of… superfluous. The one important element was using the VATS system required depleting your action point bar which is how the game determined the number of actions you would have in the regular turn based system of old. Outside of VATS, your action points were used to sprint. So going into combat in New Vegas was juggling using your action points for positioning and shooting. 

And yet, though Fallout 4 only made some small adjustments to the system, they really just gutted its usefulness. 

So now in Fallout 4 when you aim your gun, your shot flies down the centre of the reticle like a normal shooter. Yet when you enter VATS, your accuracy is now entirely determined by your agility statistic. Furthermore, VATS still sucks up your action point bar. But, unlike the prior games, entering and using VATS no longer “freezes time.” See, in New Vegas, when you activated VATS, the combat paused so you could (oftentimes clumsily) scroll through the various targets and the different limbs you could target before committing to your shots. Now, there was some measure of danger because, after queuing up your attack, the game resumed in a cinematic exchange of gunfire between you and your opponents. So you could be exploded by a rocket while the camera is panning around you as though you’re the last action hero. 

Because I like playing on high difficulties, I found the best use of the VATS system was to determine the position of enemies, especially ones that you may not notice. I would often pop into VATS to get a lay of the land before popping out of it to relocate to better cover (minimizing sightlines) before re-entering VATS to queue up my attacks against isolated individuals. 

However, in Fallout 4, just simply activating VATS put the game into slow motion. So while you’re busy fighting with the interface to choose the right arm of the super mutant in front of you instead of the dumb mutant dog behind a pile of cars to his side, that super mutant is wailing on your face with his nail board until you’re a bloody, slow-motion pulp. Combine this with the fact that your accuracy is also going to take a massive plunge since it is only determined by a skill which otherwise has no gameplay application and there is really no reason for using the VATS system. Thus, you’re only going to use your action points for running around in combat. So your agility really is only important for unlocking requirements for a few perks here or there and nothing else.

Thus, I had to restart to sort out my character’s “upgrade path” and go through that intro again.

Then the game crashed and I had to go through it again.

And this is the real story of Fallout 4. For every improvement Bethesda made to the game, they inexplicably made other aspects worse. I think I mentioned in my prior rant on Fallout 4 that writing wise, the game was massively improved on its companions. But Fallout 3 had some of the most generic companions in the world so anything was an improvement. Yet, the rest of the writing became far worse. But this review has already sprawled on long enough. 

You’ll have to wait for the exciting part two to hear my opinions on the story.

Cinderborn Cover

Smashwords Sale!

It’s the end of the year! And I doubt anyone will be sad to see this year end. A quick update on my life. Things are going to be hectic and stressful going forward for the next while. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to update the blog. Hopefully sooner rather than later. It always seems that something comes up. I suppose that’s life.

At any rate, some quick news! Smashwords is having a sale and everything must go! Or something! I’ve put all my books on Smashwords at a great discount. That is to say, for most my stuff, it’s free! So if you’re interested in it, go check it out. Or, if you’ve already purchased a hardcopy through Amazon, go check it out anyway. Smashwords is specifically for digital copies of my books. And each purchase (even free) raises the books profile on their promotional pages. So you can nab some free stuff and more people can see about these terrific little novels!

I’ve included the links below:

Clockwork Caterpillar

Synthetic Landscapes Volume 1

Cinderborn

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!

Gib Diretide

Happy Holidays to all my gorgeous readers. And Happy Holidays to you too, Derek.

It’s been quite a year; I think we can all agree on that. November was particularly hectic for me. Partly because of Nano. Partly because of a pandemic. Partly for other reasons. I’m exhausted and needed a little recovery. Now I’m back into editing the third novel in the Red Sabre series. Though, I’ve been speaking to Kait, and we have some lovely ideas for the new year. Hopefully something will shake out for that.

Anyway, I want to get a couple of blog posts out before we wrap up 2020, put a little bow on it then shove the entire year in the attic and forget about the whole darn thing until we die and someone has to clear our junk out. They won’t necessarily be the most exciting blog posts but hey, at least I’m fulfilling my duties in writing them.

This one is actually going to be about Dota 2 content. So if you’re disinterested in all that jazz, feel free to pop back later in the month.

However, I wanted to discuss Valve’s most recent event because it has been rather interesting and I’ve been tossing some words around in my head about it. And where else am I going to share my useless thoughts on a little seasonal game mode in a free-to-play computer game that’s pretty niche in terms of computer games?

So, Dota 2 has been around for quite some time. Not only is it a sequel (of a mod) but it “officially” released in 2013 after a few years in closed beta. And while I wasn’t the first through the door, I have been enjoying the game as it’s passed through its many iterations. Now, it’s a Valve game, which is to say it’s really well made but took its time. For those who don’t know, Valve has an atypical corporate structure that encourages collaborative and self-directed work amongst its employees. While great for moral, it certainly leads to products that don’t follow your typical development arc from other companies.

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Diretide and all associated whatnots belong to Valve

First, the enthusiasm for a game just about to release is off the charts. When Dota 2 was finalizing its beta cycle and approaching it’s grand opening, there were so many updates, communiques and tools released that it was positively staggering. For instance, to celebrate Halloween in 2012 (yes, before official release), Valve wanted to showcase their own modding tools in the game by releasing a fun event mode called Diretide. Dota 2 is a game of five versus five players running around and trying to be the first team to destroy the other’s base. In Diretide, bases were removed and instead players had little candy stashes. Players ran around the map trying to collect the most candy – either through stealing it off the corpses of neutral creatures or from the corpses of their enemies before they could deliver their candy back to their team’s bucket. And, of course, you could steal it from your enemy’s bucket as well.

All the while, players were hunted by Roshan. Roshan is a giant monster that normally sits in the middle of a Dota 2 map passively awaiting for a team to come and kill him for a unique item and lots of experience. The Diretide mode was billed as a sort of “Roshan Revenge” where now he stomped across the map demanding candy from teams. Those that failed to deliver were pummeled to death at the end of his enormous claws.

After two ten minute rounds, players then came together to fight the much stronger Roshan. I believe he was even stronger depending on how much candy teams accumulated. But it was a peculiar moment of cooperation at the end of a grueling duel between two opposing teams.

It was cute for a festive event especially for a game that hadn’t received official release yet. Bizarrely, however, it was a cult hit. I remember discussing the mode with my old team after it concluded. While we appreciated the break in the regular Dota 2 format, we largely stuck with the mode for one simple reason: free hats.

I still think the enduring popularity of Diretide rode solely on the fact that the game mode was very, very, very, very generous in its rewards. Winning a round provided the victorious team with a free cosmetic. Prior to Diretide, the only way to get these were to either buy them from the marketplace or the store. I’m not even certain raising your profile rank dropped items yet at this time. Thus, people threw themselves with avarice upon the mode, yelling and screaming at teammates that may have cost them the chance of getting the precious new chapeau. Not only that, but at twenty minute long matches with a very difficult fight at the end, the mode wasn’t really relaxing even though it had ostensibly ripped out most of Dota 2’s regular strategic elements. As a test of what the game could do, it was cute. But even at the time, people were quick to point out the structural issues.

However, when 2013 rolled around, the community became rabid when there was no sign of Diretide in sight.

It was perhaps one of the most ridiculous things I had ever witnessed online. The community forums were spammed in all discussion threads with “Gib Diretide” as the players demanded the return of the mode. The fevered pitch at which their anguished cries reached extended well beyond the Steam forums or subreddits. Players began to “review bomb” Dota 2 on review sites. They would submit mass single ranking reports to drive the game’s community ranking into the toilet. Not because they thought the base game was bad. Only because they felt this was the only way for Valve to “hear them.”

Perhaps the most ridiculous display was when a whole brigand of players showed up on Volvo’s Facebook page to spam the endless “Gib Diretide” demands on their social media website. Needless to say, Volvo was confused why they were being inundated with these messages. Especially since the only connection between Valve and Volvo is literally just the misspelling of two vowels.

As I said, it was the lowest I’ve seen an Internet community stoop. Was I disappointed that Diretide didn’t return the next year and there was no word of a replacement? Sure. But I’ll honestly say the only reason I wanted the mode was for the free items. Valve cobbled together a playable version of the event mode, which was probably harder to do than it would typically seem since somewhere along the line between beta and release they had changed the game’s engine. The new version of Diretide had no item drops. While I didn’t engage with it outside of a few novelty matches, I got the distinct impression that people were thoroughly unhappy with it. I felt that was the peak example that no one actually cared for the damn mode, they just wanted easy, free hats.

After 2013, Diretide thankfully never showed its face again. Every Halloween there would be some cheeky “Gib Diretide” call but thankfully these were restricted back to the Dota 2 online communities and usually in sad threads that longed for some idealized version of a game mode that never existed.

Seven years later, and there weren’t even any more mewlings for the damn thing.

And yet, Valve went ahead and released Diretide this year.

I want to add a little context in that the annual Dota 2 grand tournament, The International, was cancelled due to the pandemic. Valve still released the compendium for the tournament, however, generating a lot of money from sales for a tournament that still hasn’t occurred. With that compendium, however, we got an excellent new event mode called Aghanim’s Labyrinth. Kait and I played this quite a lot as it was a cooperative four person romp through a rather complex rogue-like dungeon. It was excellently crafted, with a ton of new voice lines, a unique boss and quite a lot of challenging rooms. Outside of the characters, there is very little that connects it to a normal Dota 2 game. Unfortunately, it released a little late in the compendium’s run and ended when The International would have ended had it gone through.

But it demonstrated just how far Valve had come in creating custom games.

And then, out of nowhere, they drop a little trailer for Diretide 2020. I don’t know who is in charge of doing the animations for these new trailers at Valve but they are fantastic.

While seven years is quite a long time for a return of a mode, I must say the wait was well worth it. Diretide 2020 is a culmination of all that Valve has learned in custom game mode design. It looks fantastic, with a custom ink cell shading that visually sets it apart. And I can’t say how much Valve has fixed this mode. Kait and I get drawn back to Dota 2 for the International hype and then usually finish off the year enjoying the game before forgetting it until the next grand tournament rolls around. However, Diretide has been incredible for us.

For one, it’s a silly little mode. This is still a competitive 5 versus 5 mode. However, rounds are only five minutes long! And it’s a best of five so are often much shorter than the twenty minute slog of the original version. Furthermore, there’s no big fight at the end with Roshan. This is strictly you playing the game mode to win the candy rush. And speaking of the mode…

Valve created a completely new map for the game. And it is fantastic. I can finally see the appeal of Blizzard’s Heroes of the Storm game. HotS wanted to set itself apart from the other Dota 2 like games by having a variety of maps with unique objectives scattered about them. In Diretide 2020, you’re still trying to collect more candy than your enemy. However, there are only two lanes that circle around Roshan’s cell. At the top and bottom of the maps are spots were scarecrows spawn three times a round. These scarecrows drop ten candies and a neutral item for whoever kills them. Three secret shops mean that you can keep on the playing field to fight it out without having to retreat back to your base to heal. And your neutral creeps spawn around two candy wells – one in each lane. These are like towers in the regular game however they don’t attack and when destroyed also drop ten candy from their owner’s bucket to the enemy team. The candy wells are guarded by a strong, tethered monster allied with the team that offers some mild defence for your base.

And quite literally every change Valve made has turned Diretide into a frantic, brawling, violent romp over Halloween candies. Roshan still pursues teams while demanding candy tributes though he can’t be fought off. And his tithe increases the more ahead you get from your opponents. Fail to feed Roshan and he’ll kill his tributary while cursing the rest of the team with a wasting disease that will constantly sap your hero’s health until it expires. Kait and I have been playing this mode exclusively and, honestly, we’d probably be playing it even if it didn’t have item drops.

But it also has hats.

Recognizing that the only reason people played the original Diretide was for hats, Valve has a candy counter for rewards in playing Dota during the Diretide season. These rewards, smartly, apply to both regular Dota 2 matches and Diretide which allows those who are only interested in the hats to keep playing regular Dota while us pub stars stick with our stupid game mode. That was sorely needed and kudos to Valve for recognizing that. Everyone gains candy points for playing a match, regardless of winning or losing (also very smart to reduce toxicity from players). The bulk of your points are rewarded for how long the game goes. So five round, close matches will give more though short three round matches means you have time to queue up for another game so it balances out. There’s a single “First Win of the Day” bonus and then there’s very small bonuses for accomplishing certain things within the mode itself. These are worth two points and given for First Blood, First Scarecrow, First Candy Steal and the like. They’re nice to pursue but since a three round match gives everyone 9 points, we’re not talking about really vital goals to pursue.

Once your reward candy counter reaches 100, you are gifted a random item from a staggeringly large list of items. These include discontinued chests which I never expected to see since I don’t spend any more money on this game outside of International Compendiums. There’s also Diretide exclusive items and two chests that you can get this season too. One is just a normal item chest. These have spooky outfits for about nine of the heroes (and I was lucky enough to get two of these to drop and I didn’t even get the pudge set out of them too!). There’s a second Diretide chest which requires a paid key to open, reminiscent of the old Team Fortress 2 crate system. These chests can be sold on the market and include a lot more items from ambient sets, immortals to immortal sets worth several hundred dollars on the steam marketplace. Anything you want from these can also be sold on the marketplace so needless to say I haven’t opened any of these “money chests.” There are some ghostly item effects that drop as well, seasonally limited to the fall and can be applied to certain heroes and couriers.

I’ve been very happy being able to farm this mode to get new goodies. And I can’t imagine that Valve hasn’t made a bundle off these sale chests considering I’ve made around seven dollars on my own from people’s enthusiasm. There were some bugs and balance issues when this first dropped. Given that Dota 2 has over a hundred heroes with an enormous skill pool, certain heroes were considerably better than others. Valve had the foresight to allow each player a single ban at the start of the match and released a number of patches to the game mode post launch to bring certain heroes in line as well. I’ve enjoyed the evolving “meta-game” around the picks and bans of Diretide as well as finding my own list of heroes who everyone ignores at their peril.

Which is to say, Snapfire is OP. Wraithking as well. I think I lost maybe three times over the entire run with those two.

So, yeah, this has been an incredible surprise from Valve and I just wanted to share some positivity over a well constructed and launched custom game mode in Dota 2.

Gib Diretide indeed.

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NaNoWriMo Prep #3

Well, here we are at the final NaNoWriMo prep before the actual NaNoWriMo! So anything else I do after this is all going to be my own personal secrets! Ahahaha.

But let’s recap where we left off. I had decided on an urban fantasy genre, though whether that’s from a horror or mystery angle is yet to be determined. My last entry I settled on basing a character on a friend of mine who I haven’t used as a model yet. Today, I will be hammering out some more details.

Having focused on a model for my character, I now need to establish what that character is. Now, I’m not going to say what is or is not based on the real world model. It’ll just start doing a rough character sketch. I’ve talked before about character sketches for my stories. These let me get a good grasp of their personality. They usually form as a short story about a pivotal moment in their life. Here, it will mostly be a stream of consciousness of my thoughts.

But before I begin that, I need to lay out a few more of my thoughts.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/index1.html
Oriental Writer Cutting His Pen by Benjamin Gerritsz Cuyp (1640).

I’m thinking this story is going to have at least two major characters. In my early musings I wanted to have some non-authority associated individuals looking into a mystery. I had an early vision of a mystery lovers club that meets to discuss unsolved cases and try to apply their love of mystery novels in solving those cases. I then thought this would be a cute way to start a mystery by having a person appeal to them for help in doing something (leaning towards a missing persons case). I’m leaning towards a young character who has joined this club because they’re smitten with a girl that attends and wants to get in their good graces. This will tie in to some of my other character’s design.

First, I’m leaning towards a young father. I mentioned before that I like taking the mundane and making things extraordinary from there and what could be more mundane than parenting? There’s feeding, napping, diaper changes and bathing. Sure, it’s a rewarding and exciting experience. But let’s be honest with ourselves, we really don’t care to hear about stranger’s struggles about waking up at 2 am to give their child a bottle. I think I’m also going to make him a single father. With the aforementioned missing person’s case, I’m leaning towards the mother having “left” one night, possibly without warning. The story could then pick up this personal tragedy if the mother was roped into the events of the novel in some level. It will also force the character to continue down whatever road unwinds before them.

Alright, we have a single father. What else really defines a person? Well, their occupation. This ties back to the earlier paragraph as I decided this person will be a teacher. However, I don’t see a teacher attending a mystery appreciation club even if he is looking to get back into the dating pool. And I would like to write some scenes of him trying to go on dates while dodging the fact that he’s a father and worried someone else’s kid will turn off dating prospects. So I will need some tie with this character and the young paramour. The easiest solution, to me, would to make him the teacher of the other. I can worry about the details of how that plays out for later.

Lastly, I want some personality quirks for my character. While I have a rather sombre backstory, I’d actually like to contrast that with a sun disposition and childlike wonder for the world. I recall how amused I was when in Japan and seeing all the adults obsessed with Pokemon Go. And while I’m not going to lean into some other intellectual property, even if there’s no chance of infringement, I do like the idea of him preoccupying himself with chasing down digital “pokemon” or whatnot while weird things are happening. I’m also tempted to wrap this phone game into the greater story and it got me thinking.

Way back in university I came up with… well… I don’t even know what to call it. I was working on a project with Derek to make something and ended up making all this complicated lore for supernatural entities, different realms of reality and a whole slew of other stuff. It never really materialized into anything, however. But while thinking about this character and musing of a Pokemon alternative, I recalled this concept. Loosely titled Plemora, it would make an excellent game and if the game itself ties into the urban fantasy, would cover a whole lot of groundwork that I won’t have to do later.

A brief rundown of the Plemora was that our world was simply one layer of a multilayered existence. Entities from a higher layer had a tendency for coming down into ours to avoid conflicts there. Oftentimes this led to them being hunted and, given the physics of the world, they might be chased into lower layers of ours. It was a weird blend of things like Planescape and White Wolf roleplaying and I certainly have no interest in trying to make this story an introduction to that mess. However, it certainly works perfectly for a stupid mobile game my teacher can obsess over and since it dealt with demons… well… let’s just say that I have some ideas to consider in regards to my paranormal portion. Whether I will have sympathetic, intelligent demons that pass for human like… alright I don’t watch or read a lot of urban fantasy but that’s what I imagine Supernatural or that tv show about Satan were like. Alternatively, I can make them more mindless and beastlike in the vein of Stranger Things or Lovecraft Country.

And I likely won’t make a decision until I’m halfway through November anyway!