When Warhammer Online (known as WAR) came out last year, I was very excited. The game was supposedly pumping life into an dying generation of MMORPG, introducing several mechanics with the intention of bringing players together (and also against one another). An element of these mechanics is known as the Public Quest, or PQ.
In a traditional MMORPG, a "quest" is a mission that the player must accomplish. The player talks to an NPC, who then grants them a quest that they can complete. Players keep their own quest logs, and each player can complete each quest for him or herself. The process is very localized. For quests that involve multiple people as a requirement for completion, this internal nature can cause problems in getting a group together. Moreover, rewards in traditional quests are not always fairly allotted to a group.
WAR sought to end these problems with the concept of the public quest. In a PQ, an area of the world is reserved for a specific quest. Unlike a traditional quest, the PQ is a scripted series of events that begin periodically, running their course and resetting upon success or failure. Any players in the area can participate, simply by walking into the area where the PQ takes place. One doesn't need to be a member of a group to benefit from the quest. Depending on his or her contribution, a player has a better chance of earning a good reward. On paper, this is a fantastic idea.
In practice, I find that the system needs work. The PQ does streamline the questing process (and to be fair, WAR is not about questing), but instead of communicating with other players to achieve a goal, I found that players in PQs simply contribute to mindless blob-play. There is no communication - indeed, if you're not in a group but still trying to participate, there is no easy way to contact other players in the middle of an event. If you're being hammered on by five enemies, then you're at the mercy of any random healer who happens to notice you dying in the corner. This is, of course, not ideal for new players.
Players who run these quests repeatedly end up re-creating an atmosphere of expectation common in the endgame of an MMO: "if you are here, you should know what you are doing and you should do it well." The PQ system breeds a crowd of hardcore players who are out for rewards, and when the system encourages play without communication, it marginalizes players who are still learning. I don't think that this is what Mythic intended at all.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Free-to-Play: No Download Required! Web-Based MMOGs
Before there were big and flashy, graphical internet games, there were web games. While your average DVD-ROM based MMORPG will devour several gigabytes of space and demand high amounts of memory, a web-game will humbly exist within your web browser, asking only for what the application can spare. These are not MMORPGS in the contemporary sense of the term, but they remain popular even now, when techonology makes games with incredible visuals popular. It is a different genre of game altogether, but occasionally, these browser-based games, such as Anime Cubed's Billy vs. SNAKEMAN, can compete with bigger names for several unique reasons.
Browser games are often asynchronous; a world is persistent, but "ticks" on an hourly or daily system - that is, reources (and therefore playtime) can be managed simply by setting the pace of the tick. This pacing makes it logical for players to log in for 10-20 minutes, once or twice a day, play to their hearts' content, and set down the game until tomorrow. A browser-game is not an EVE online, Everquest, or World of Warcraft, games that can demand large blocks of leisure time to accomplish anything within. Players can play because they feel like they have the time to. In addition, asynchronous playing often comes with a hieghtened sense of anonymity, for those players who absolutely hate being social with others ;)
Browser games are (often) easy to pick up. Most tick-based games make their money on advertising, so players are usually encouraged to refer other players for in-game benefits. This is certainly no new concept in the world of marketing, but the simplicity and convenience of a web game can often lead to people outside a demographic to pick up the habit.
Browser games are (often) free! As mentioned above, advertising makes most of a browser game's revenue, and the implications of click-through and page impressions are obvious. Doing nearly anything in a browser-based game will refresh or change the page you are visiting, which loads new ads and (possibly) convinces a user just a little bit more to click on one. If a player doesn't care for advertisements, perhaps a flat fee can be assessed to remove them - a deal that the host of the game will enjoy, no doubt. Barring this, there is usually no cost for a player when registering for a browser-based game, making them risk-free for the consumer.
If you haven't played a web-based game before, consider giving one a try. You could discover a new sort of video game that tickles your fancy.
Browser games are often asynchronous; a world is persistent, but "ticks" on an hourly or daily system - that is, reources (and therefore playtime) can be managed simply by setting the pace of the tick. This pacing makes it logical for players to log in for 10-20 minutes, once or twice a day, play to their hearts' content, and set down the game until tomorrow. A browser-game is not an EVE online, Everquest, or World of Warcraft, games that can demand large blocks of leisure time to accomplish anything within. Players can play because they feel like they have the time to. In addition, asynchronous playing often comes with a hieghtened sense of anonymity, for those players who absolutely hate being social with others ;)
Browser games are (often) easy to pick up. Most tick-based games make their money on advertising, so players are usually encouraged to refer other players for in-game benefits. This is certainly no new concept in the world of marketing, but the simplicity and convenience of a web game can often lead to people outside a demographic to pick up the habit.
Browser games are (often) free! As mentioned above, advertising makes most of a browser game's revenue, and the implications of click-through and page impressions are obvious. Doing nearly anything in a browser-based game will refresh or change the page you are visiting, which loads new ads and (possibly) convinces a user just a little bit more to click on one. If a player doesn't care for advertisements, perhaps a flat fee can be assessed to remove them - a deal that the host of the game will enjoy, no doubt. Barring this, there is usually no cost for a player when registering for a browser-based game, making them risk-free for the consumer.
If you haven't played a web-based game before, consider giving one a try. You could discover a new sort of video game that tickles your fancy.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
What Makes The Game?
As a self-proclaimed MMORPG Junkie, I feel like I should post about this.
Critics of the genre will have a bit to say about the MMORPG. The games, according to some, are a blight of sorts - the worst form of video game that destroys the lives of its players. In a way, these people have been proven correct: the nigh unbelievable stories of players dying in their worn computer chairs from exhaustion, or of neglected spouses, partners and children, or of hygiene so horrific that not even loving parents can draw near - all are indicators of serious effects that the standard MMO can have on its subscriber base. While these people are the outliers - the folks who prove the exception to the rule - it is fair to say that the addictive nature of Massively Multiplayer can be dangerous.
What is the cause of this addiction? Surely, your run-of-the mill MMORPG isn't so compelling that it could ruin lives. They are, after all, games designed by the same order of people who developed Pong, and Mario, and Final Fantasy. Is it a sense of achievement? Team competition? A case of e-peen grown too large?
I'm not sure there's one singular answer, but I think it's food for thought.
Critics of the genre will have a bit to say about the MMORPG. The games, according to some, are a blight of sorts - the worst form of video game that destroys the lives of its players. In a way, these people have been proven correct: the nigh unbelievable stories of players dying in their worn computer chairs from exhaustion, or of neglected spouses, partners and children, or of hygiene so horrific that not even loving parents can draw near - all are indicators of serious effects that the standard MMO can have on its subscriber base. While these people are the outliers - the folks who prove the exception to the rule - it is fair to say that the addictive nature of Massively Multiplayer can be dangerous.
What is the cause of this addiction? Surely, your run-of-the mill MMORPG isn't so compelling that it could ruin lives. They are, after all, games designed by the same order of people who developed Pong, and Mario, and Final Fantasy. Is it a sense of achievement? Team competition? A case of e-peen grown too large?
I'm not sure there's one singular answer, but I think it's food for thought.
Lord of The Rings Online: An Unusual Audience
I play Turbine's Lord of The Rings Online. I have for over 18 months now, and I have been very impressed with it. It is a game with a rich lore base; specifically, the story that is the father of all modern fantasy. It is a game that looks pretty and runs well, and is built on fairly solid mechanics. It is a game I have reached the "end" of, even after the expansion pack. And I still play it. I still play it to the point where I have purchased the game's lifetime subscription plan (at the featherlight cost of $200), and intend to play it for the foreseeable future. Why, I hear you ask? If there's not much challenge left in the game, why bother?
For me, the answer is in the community. LoTRO is a strange game, not for its design or its gameplay offerings, but for the players that inhabit it. Unlike any of the MMOs I have played in the past, this one offers something that the developers didn't necessarily intend - an enjoyable human experience. The best intentions of a game designer can lead to some serious replayability in any game, but when using the aging model set forth by Everquest and refined by World of Warcraft, it seems unlikely that a current generation MMO is going to grip a given player for longer than the average seven months. What, then, is supposed to keep your subscriber base happy? Other players.
I can admit to being a roleplayer. I sometimes toy with the idea of writing fiction (which is substantially harder than writing about a character in a game), and I jump at the opportunity to create a story within the world of a game. This is decidedly a minority sentiment in online games, but what some call a minority, others call a niche. Perhaps to Turbine, they recognized a niche and sought to make use of it. LoTRO is based upon lore from another generation - my mother read Tolkien's works, and so did her parents. Players from both of those generations are signing up to experience virtual Middle-Earth, and many of them share my interest in roleplaying. The result? The first MMO I've experienced in which the average age of a player is likely to be greater than 25. Older players mean more maturity (for the most part), and the community is a rich one as a result. I've written works with these people that I would enjoy to someday adapt to a world of my own. The interactions have proven solid enough for me to want that.
Sure, there's still a fair share of hardcore gamer-types, griefers, and other assorted stereotypes that comprise every online game. But beyond that is a group that strikes me. It was worth paying $200 to remain a part of, even before my time playing made that subscription plan a wise financial decision. Is Turbine on to something? Is the basis for a game the primary element that attracts a demographic?
For me, the answer is in the community. LoTRO is a strange game, not for its design or its gameplay offerings, but for the players that inhabit it. Unlike any of the MMOs I have played in the past, this one offers something that the developers didn't necessarily intend - an enjoyable human experience. The best intentions of a game designer can lead to some serious replayability in any game, but when using the aging model set forth by Everquest and refined by World of Warcraft, it seems unlikely that a current generation MMO is going to grip a given player for longer than the average seven months. What, then, is supposed to keep your subscriber base happy? Other players.
I can admit to being a roleplayer. I sometimes toy with the idea of writing fiction (which is substantially harder than writing about a character in a game), and I jump at the opportunity to create a story within the world of a game. This is decidedly a minority sentiment in online games, but what some call a minority, others call a niche. Perhaps to Turbine, they recognized a niche and sought to make use of it. LoTRO is based upon lore from another generation - my mother read Tolkien's works, and so did her parents. Players from both of those generations are signing up to experience virtual Middle-Earth, and many of them share my interest in roleplaying. The result? The first MMO I've experienced in which the average age of a player is likely to be greater than 25. Older players mean more maturity (for the most part), and the community is a rich one as a result. I've written works with these people that I would enjoy to someday adapt to a world of my own. The interactions have proven solid enough for me to want that.
Sure, there's still a fair share of hardcore gamer-types, griefers, and other assorted stereotypes that comprise every online game. But beyond that is a group that strikes me. It was worth paying $200 to remain a part of, even before my time playing made that subscription plan a wise financial decision. Is Turbine on to something? Is the basis for a game the primary element that attracts a demographic?
EVE Online: Band of Brothers Dissolved
It's been a loooong time since I posted - indeed, being a senior in college and having a nasty console gaming habit will do that to you - but I saw a bit of gaming news that struck me last week.
It's old hat by now to anyone who plays EVE Online, but Band of Brothers, an alliance of hundreds and hundreds of players within that game world, has recently been wiped off the face of the galaxy. I don't know how that makes any of you feel; BoB had been around forever (long before I started playing EVE, at least), and to hear that they were defeated by a single player was nearly enough to make me want to resubscribe. Apparently, a corporate spy reached director status within the executor corporation, giving that player massive administration rights. Systematically, the spy then stole all the alliance assets that weren't nailed down, edited standings so that allies would see each other as hostile, kicked out all member corporations, and then dissolved the alliance, making a new one with the same name so that it can't be used again. In the course of an evening, the most formidable player-driven force in the game was erased from existence, replaced by a holding corporation with no purpose. What a trophy that must be, for the player who holds the name!
In a way, this is what EVE online is all about. Corporate espionage accomplished what a years-long war could not. It's a strange sort of PVP, but one that is apparently sanctioned by Icelandic developers CCP. As with other forms of play that border on griefing, the developers are likely to let the destruction of BoB stand. Whether or not you believe that the massive time-investment of BoB's pilots should be wiped out by the work of one sneaky player, I think that player deserves a tip of the hat. When I played, I was a pirate and thief, and this man (or woman) has certainly pulled off the most profound heist since the EVE-I banking scandal that rocked the game several years ago.
EVE has always been a spectacle for the folks who don't play, but I should leave them with an impression of real-world impact. since you can buy game time with in-game money (ISK) in the form of Game Time Codes, there have often been comparisons between ISK and US dollars. The loss of Band of Brothers' assets amounts to several THOUSANDS of dollars in time and resources, and countless billions of ISK. The exact number estimate is posted elsewhere, but I was floored when I thought about the accomplishment of this spy. Such a tangible measure of the damage he or she wrought - can there be a greater sense of accomplishment in a game that's all about the credits?
The foes of BoB should have a field day, trying to secure the territories vacated by the dead alliance. I'm still tempted to peek back in and see how it goes.
It's old hat by now to anyone who plays EVE Online, but Band of Brothers, an alliance of hundreds and hundreds of players within that game world, has recently been wiped off the face of the galaxy. I don't know how that makes any of you feel; BoB had been around forever (long before I started playing EVE, at least), and to hear that they were defeated by a single player was nearly enough to make me want to resubscribe. Apparently, a corporate spy reached director status within the executor corporation, giving that player massive administration rights. Systematically, the spy then stole all the alliance assets that weren't nailed down, edited standings so that allies would see each other as hostile, kicked out all member corporations, and then dissolved the alliance, making a new one with the same name so that it can't be used again. In the course of an evening, the most formidable player-driven force in the game was erased from existence, replaced by a holding corporation with no purpose. What a trophy that must be, for the player who holds the name!
In a way, this is what EVE online is all about. Corporate espionage accomplished what a years-long war could not. It's a strange sort of PVP, but one that is apparently sanctioned by Icelandic developers CCP. As with other forms of play that border on griefing, the developers are likely to let the destruction of BoB stand. Whether or not you believe that the massive time-investment of BoB's pilots should be wiped out by the work of one sneaky player, I think that player deserves a tip of the hat. When I played, I was a pirate and thief, and this man (or woman) has certainly pulled off the most profound heist since the EVE-I banking scandal that rocked the game several years ago.
EVE has always been a spectacle for the folks who don't play, but I should leave them with an impression of real-world impact. since you can buy game time with in-game money (ISK) in the form of Game Time Codes, there have often been comparisons between ISK and US dollars. The loss of Band of Brothers' assets amounts to several THOUSANDS of dollars in time and resources, and countless billions of ISK. The exact number estimate is posted elsewhere, but I was floored when I thought about the accomplishment of this spy. Such a tangible measure of the damage he or she wrought - can there be a greater sense of accomplishment in a game that's all about the credits?
The foes of BoB should have a field day, trying to secure the territories vacated by the dead alliance. I'm still tempted to peek back in and see how it goes.
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