Games Completed in 2011, #20 – Fallout: New Vegas, Dead Money DLC

I’ve decided to count DLC as completed titles for my super cool and impressive ongoing megalist of games I’ve conquered for the year so far, considering most of the DLC I’ve bought 1) is purchased with real money, 2) takes a decent amount of time to complete (3-8 hours), and 3) has end credits. That’s good enough for me, and so I figured before I get to discussing the Honest Hearts DLC I’ll first have to tackle musing gravely on the Dead Money DLC. Oh wait. I’ve already done that…like a ton. Just click on the links below so I don’t have to regurgitate for y’all:

Take the Dead Money and run

All my greatest critics in the Mojave Wasteland think I’m a hack

Fallout: New Vegas – Dead Money DLC is more like deadweight

In summary, Dead Money is too frustrating to be fun, even if it is more Fallout: New Vegas. Next!

How to play Caravan in Fallout: New Vegas

Currently on my third playthrough of Fallout: New Vegas, I’ve logged somewhere around 120+ hours in the Mojave Wasteland, and, amazingly, I only won my first game of Caravan last night. Now, this wasn’t my first time trying to earn some extra bottle caps in a friendly card game between strangers, but each time I did try I’d end up throwing cards down misinformed, losing quickly without any notion as to why. I even looked up a few videos and tutorials online, and the dang thing still did not click. Until, without warning, it did, and then I won three games in a row against NCR ambassador Dennis Crocker, unlocking this pretty gem:

Know When to Fold Them (10G): Won 3 games of Caravan.

Unlike other Caravan players, Crocker will continue to play even when he runs out of caps, and each win still counts as a win. So far, I’ve beat him 11 times. Just need to do so another…uh, 19 more times to unlock the Caravan Master Achievement.

Right. How to play Caravan. The point of the game is to create three stacks of cards equaling 26. Your opponent is also trying to do this so the speedier you can get there, the better. This is why it’s important to have as many 10s, 9s, and 7s in your Caravan deck because 10 + 9 + 7 = 26 exactly. A Caravan deck must consist of at least 30 cards, and many online tutorials suggest taking out everything from your deck that is not a 10, 9, or 7 before playing; however, this can be very time-consuming, and I found it fine to just hit “random deck”. Once a match begins, before you play your first card, you have the opportunity to discard as many cards from your hand as you want, and I did this until my hand was mostly filled with 10s, 9s, 8s, 7s, and 6s. Face cards like Kings and Queens won’t help you, same with Aces despite what you might assume, so drop those like they’re laced with cazador poison.

After you’ve discarded enough to get a good handful of desired cards, try to place a 10 (of any suit) in each of the three rows first. Next, try to place a 9 beneath each 10 (it has to go below as cards can then only be played in descending order). Lastly, aim for a 7 below the 9 in each column to make for a perfect 26; more than likely, your opponent is still struggling to build strong Caravans on their end, and then you’ve won a match in a matter of a few turns. Rinse and repeat.

It sounds simpler than it first appears to be, and the biggest problem for me was that I kept trying to place cards next to the first card I played, only to have them turn up red and “unplayable.” I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong, and decided that Caravan was not for me despite my love for many in-game card games like Triple Triad, Tetra Master, and Xeno Card. I’m glad I went back to try again, and now I’ve got some grinding to do for that “win 30 games of Caravan” Achievement, with victory match #30 being the last match of Caravan I’ll ever play.

30 Days of Gaming, #21 – Game with the best story

Suikoden told the story and struggle of one Tir McDohl, a young boy growing up fast in a big world where politics and war meant ultimately the same thing. On top of dealing with betrayal and unfairness and the death of several close friends and all that jazz, young McDohl also learns early on that he’s destined to be the Tenkai Star, a prophesied hero fated to unite the 108 Stars of Destiny, bringing forth a new age of prosperity. Heavy stuff for just a lad.

Suikoden II, taking place three years after the events in Suikoden, is basically that plus more. More betrayal, more scheming, more large-scale battles, more heartbreak. The Kingdom of Highland is invading the City States of Jowston. The player controls Riou, a soldier of the Highland Army’s Unicorn Brigade. Together with his childhood friend Jowy Atreides, the two of them will get swept up in the seedy underside of the Dunan Unification War.

The greatest aspect of Suikoden II‘s yarn is its fair and rounded treatment of relationships. You truly believe that Riou and Jowy are great friends with a lot of history, and as the plot unravels it becomes clearer and clearer that the two will not see eye to eye on everything. Plus, each is given half of a True Rune, demanding that they work together for its full potential to be realized. Still, their separation is no surprise, but it’s still just as crushing. Jowy ends up working for Luca Blight, “the Mad Prince,” a villain as villainous as they get, and starts to move up in rank as Riou begins to build his own army and plans for stopping Highland. As things really get heated and the battle rages on, Jowy betrays Blight, revealing that he is trying to bring peace to the land, and that he never believed Riou could do it so he set out on his own to accomplish the task. There’s some bitterness there, as well as relief.

You also believe that Riou and his sister Nanami love each other, all the way to the end. Two other characters with a great relationship? Old-time favs Viktor and Flik, of course.

There’s multiple endings, too. Three, I believe. Here’s how my one and only playthrough concluded. At the end of Suikoden II, Riou returns to a spot where he promised Jowy they could meet up if they ever got separated. The climb back to where it all started is hollow and eerie, with not a single sound to be heard. The two converse and then you’re given a faux choice whether to duel or not. Regardless, you’ll have to fight it out with your once BFF. Once Jowy is weakened, you have another choice, this time a real one: take his half of the True Rune or don’t. I did, knowing full well this decision would kill him, but not sure what made me want his Rune half; maybe his betrayal and murder of Anabelle still stung deep down. After that, Jowy makes his peace, and it’s montage city until the credits roll.

The story is smart, sophisticated. The battle plans make sense, and Luca Blight, while being a little over-the-top, is exactly what one fears in a villain–intelligent and passionate. It was clearly crafted with care, and it’s a story I will care about myself for as long as I can.

Pick-pocketing glitches from the pockets of Fallout: New Vegas

At this point, y’all should know how I like to roleplay in my big, open-world RPGs, especially in Fallout: New Vegas–stealthily. I love skirting conflict, sneaking around the building’s side, lockpicking my way in, tampering with the security computer to switch the turret’s targeting assignment from me to raider, and then creeping up on anyone left standing to pop em once–critical damage guaranteed–in the head. Then we loot and move on to hopefully do it all again.

That said, there’s one aspect that goes hand-in-hand with being sneaky that I just don’t like to do or take advantage of, and that’s picking someone’s pockets, whether it’s to grab a key they got or drop a live grenade into their trousers. I just don’t like doing it. It seems to me that, even with a high Sneak skill, you’re chances of getting caught are greater than not, and then I usually have to reload my game because I don’t like getting caught and having the entire New Vegas strip mad at me because I stole somebody’s fresh apple.

How then, you most certainly ask, did I unlock the following Achievement over the weekend?

Artful Pocketer (15G): Picked 50 pockets.

Here, let me tell you. I used a glitch. Yup, even with two (or is it three at this point?) patches for Fallout: New Vegas, there’s still a few glitches to lovingly grope. I mean…use with love. Because 50 pockets is a lot of pockets, and I know that I’d never actually get that many in a single playthrough especially since I hate doing it so much, but this glitch made it all too easy. First, let me explain how pick-pocketing in Fallout works: you crouch, you wait until it says hidden, you search their pockets, and you take an item. If done successfully, the item will disappear and  you’ll hear the sound cue for losing karma. If done unsuccessfully, the menu closes, and the victim turns into an enemy, ready to beat you down for your blatant thievery.

Okay, so on the New Vegas strip, there’s a hotel hangout place called Vault 21; it’s actually a true Vault-Tec vault that’s been transformed into a rich place for some R&R. It’s a little bizarre you’re first time through as it’ll feel a bit like returning home in Fallout 3. Anyways, all the residents of Vault 21 are glitched; the items in their pockets do not disappear when pick-pocketed, but the sound cue for losing karma still happens, and when you check the stats menu it clearly shows you were successful. This means you can sit there and just pick-pocket someone over and over and over. I did this to a woman snoozing with her eyes open. Took me less than 15 minutes to go from three pockets picked to 50. I did, however, have to save frequently as the woman did seem to catch me after the third or fourth try, but if that happens, you just reload and try again. Easy peasy. Sometimes glitches are good, time-savers. Sometimes they’re not, like in the case of the Achievement for recruiting every companion, which I’ve done, but which has not yet pinged. Grrr…

Thanks for listening, chiiiiiiildren!

Steve Jackson Games unsheathes Munchkin Conan the Barbarian

Strangely and surprisingly, over the Memorial Day weekend, Steve Jackson Games announced yet another new Munchkin title, this time going almost back to their fantasy origin roots with Munchkin Conan the Barbarian. This is a 15-card supplement for original Munchkin–y’know, the core set that already has 74 supplements as is–and while I will always be excited for new Munchkin art, cards, and game mechanics, I am growing a little weary of how bulky original Munchkin is getting. I think I only have like three big expansions (Munchkin 4 – The Need for Speed, Munchkin 5 – De-ranged, Munchkin 7 – Cheat With Both Hands) and one little one (Munchkin Waiting for Santa), and it’s already way too many cards to deal with. When my wife and sisters and I play, we have to actually create two Door piles and two Treasure piles because stacking them all at once would suddenly turn a round of Munchkin into a round of Jenga.

But yeah, Conan the Cimmerian…I mean, Barbarian. He’s definitely a great character, surviving in a world with inventive monsters and barrels full of fun–yet deadly–weapons. There’s actually so much to Conan’s rich history to pluck from that I’m sad to see this as just a supplement and not its very own set. Again, give me more big sets before little additions.

Munchkin Conan the Barbarian comes out this fall. Naturally, a better title would’ve been Conan the Muncharian. I’m dying to see what the Barbarian Booties do. No sample cards available yet, but you can check out a few pieces of early art over at the set’s homepage.

Skirting the wild side with Wild Arms 2

Tara‘s been telling me for several months now that I have to play Wild Arms 2 from her side of our games collection, and since there wasn’t much else to deal with today but dog diarrhea and a severe lack of air conditioning in our apartment, I finally said okay and gave the game an hour of my time. Sorry, Greg, but I didn’t take any notes as I played. I did, however, have a serious blast naming the many characters’ names. That’s something I’ve always enjoyed doing in RPGs; for my first and only playthrough of Final Fantasy VII, I gave everybody either a Greek or Roman god’s name.

Here’s what I came up with for our colorful crew of heroes in Wild Arms 2:

Just ignore the stats in the images above. I got nobody past level 3 by quitting time. I also named some boy hostage 12345 and a friendly dog Updog. Yeah, I know. I’m da best at naming dem thingies.

Like all Wild Arms games would go on to do, the adventure begins with picking one of three characters to play as. Don’t worry. You’ll do everyone’s origin story, and then all three timelines will connect with each other. I picked Dimples first, a soldier in Meria Boule’s army, one of the three nations of Filgaia. He walked around some underground place, learned how to hit switches with throwing knives, and then fought a boss monster with creepy hands. Next it was on to Banana’s story, which is a little on the somber side. See, he’s hunted as a criminal, but is actually a “hero.” The use of quotation marks is his doing, not mine. Maybe he doesn’t want people to confuse him with a sandwich. Lastly, there’s Brickface, and boy did I name her correctly. She’s a hapless magician in training, and her introductory story is one giant puzzle of blocks and switches and giant bugs. It’s not fun. In fact, it’s a bit frustrating, and by then I’d had enough, so off went the PlayStation 2’s power button.

Some strange things to note though. Despite being three separate characters who have not yet met each other, they all shared the very same inventory. I had collected 14 Heal Berries with Dimples, and then when it was time to switch over to Banana, he also had access to all those berries. How does something like that work? The battle graphics are atrocious, but otherwise the game is pretty decent looking. Dialogue can be a bit confusing as it’s not always clear who is talking. Evidently, you can also name your own spells; Tara renamed many of hers after ones from Slayers and Magic Knight Rayearth. Go, nerdy wife!

I can’t promise that I’ll go back and play more Wild Arms 2 at this point, but if I do, at least it’ll be worth a few laughs.

30 Days of Gaming, #20 – Favorite genre

If you thought the answer to this topic was gonna be racing or cooking sims, well…you’ve clearly not been paying much attention to Grinding Down. I’m all about the roleplaying games, but it did take me some years to really get into the genre and stay there, as many JRPGs almost ruined me, as they have almost ruined others before me. Thankfully, standout titles like Suikoden, Suikoden II, and Final Fantasy VII literally blew my genitals, taking me from teenhood to manhood in a matter of dozens of hours, thanks to intricate plots, fantastic battle systems, soaring sounds, elegant pacing, light grinding, addictive gameplay, and endings that still resonate with me to this day. Plus, y’know, they let me play a role in their worlds.

I’ve always been a big reader, and much of the credit can go to my sister Bitsy who, from an early age, passed along books she had already read to me. Many of these turned out to be fantasy novels–works by Mercedes Lackey, Piers Anthony (oh my), and Anne McCaffrey–and it wasn’t too hard to leapfrog from them to more “adult” work, devouring things like The Belgariad series by David Eddings, The Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks, and stuff by David Gemmell. Throw in the classics like Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings and the entire Discworld series, and well, I was hooked on stories.

And here comes along a genre of videogames that promises epic stories…and more! The majority of RPGs, more often than not, at least five or ten years ago,
were fantasy-themed. Sure, there’s the occasional sci fi-themed RPG, and many could argue that Final Fantasy VII is more space and metal frames than swords and dragons, but these videogames gave all their love to royalty and kingdoms and knights and dragons and magic spells and small-time villages trying to make ends meet before war destroyed everything everywhere. So I ate it up, even the bad meals like Beyond the Beyond and SaGa Frontier. It didn’t matter–I just wanted to be in a realized world, growing as a character, growing into a story.

Character customization is not as important to me as character crafting is. Whenever a new RPG begins and you’re given the chance to mold how your dude or dudette looks, I click around, raise their cheekbones, lighten or dark their skin, find a cool beard, and call it a day. I can easily see that hours upon hours can be spent noodling with dozens of options, but that’s not important to me. Once we’re in the game, spending skill points or focusing on this spell or deciding what kind of armor Mini Paul will wear are the bigger decisions.

While RPGs are my favorite genre, this also can be problematic. On average, a RPG can take around 30 to 40 hours to complete. However, having an addictive personality, I end up playing most RPGs for double that. See: 130 hours logged so far in Dragon Quest IX, over 100 hours for Fallout 3, eighty+ hours for Fallout: New Vegas, and so on. Playing more than one RPG at a time is like juggling balls of fiery acid with no gloves, and yet it’s something I simply can’t avoid.

Last year, I needed a break between some RPGs I was eating up, and so I picked up Mini Ninjas for the Xbox 360, thinking that an action title would be a good change of pace. I completed the game in under five hours. That’s it? I’ve played prologues in RPGs for longer than that (think Suikoden V, people), and I was a bit taken aback at how much quantity I look for in a game these days. Quantity over quality, especially when discussing bug-ridden games like the Fallout series. I don’t care how broken they are…there’s so much stuff to do to distract me from such bummers.

But yeah, RPGs. Love ’em. Always will so long as they continue on, which we all know they will. Can’t wait to see how big and massive Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is gonna be, as well as the multiple choice quiz that is Deus Ex: Human Revolution. Sorry, upcoming Cooking Mama 4 for the 3DS…I DON’T GIVE TWO STEAMED CAULIFLOWERS ABOUT YOU.

30 Days of Gaming, #19 – Picture of a game setting you wish you lived in

Fable II was an okay game. It did not wow me, but it had a lot of pretty to it, and bumbling into a new location was always a joyous moment because it meant immersing myself in a place and seeing how everything clicked. Oh, okay. That’s where they get their food, that’s where they sell their wares, that’s where a talking gargoyle head insults my intelligence. Bowerstone is an impressive main city hub, very busy with lots of shops and shoppers, as well as being broken up into distinctive districts. Bloodstone is moody and dangerous. Westcliff is a dump though you do get the opportunity to change its tides.

For me, the place to be in Fable II is Oakfield, a small village of farmers and monks north of Rookridge. It’s serene and open, quiet and nice, a place to spend the day either tilling the land or walking the paths, with a single bar hot-spot, the Sandgoose, to go to at night where, more assuredly, everybody knows your name. Some other points of interest include the Temple of Light and Manure Manor.

And if you play to the good-natured side, when you return from the Tattered Spire, you’ll find Oakfield thriving, with new houses and an expanded Temple of Light. Plus, autumn will be in full swing, with gorgeous reds, oranges, and yellows to feast upon, and probably nothing else comes as close as to feeling like a true fantasy village than Oakfield. Evil people get to destroy the village, which only makes me want to never finish my evil second playthrough even more.

A lot of Fable II is spent running after the golden breadcrumb trail, your dog desperately trying to keep up. Considering the game’s tiresome loading screens and sluggish menus, running was a blessing. I ran just about everywhere. Except for Oakfield in the sunlight, where I’d stroll leisurely around, doing little expressions for its inhabitants and keeping the peace. It’s the sort of place I dream about, where I could leave behind the plastic and pointless, be one with my surroundings, spend every day soaking up the sounds and smells.

Runner-up:

That’d be Serenity Farm, also from Fable II. It’s the inside of Oakfield’s Demon Door, and it’s special in that no one but your family (wife/husband and kids) can follow you there. Meaning no enemies, truly a secret spot all to your own. That also sounds good to me. Either way, fantasy farms…I kind of like ’em.

Honest early impressions for the Honest Hearts DLC

As expected, things go horribly wrong the minute you begin the Honest Hearts DLC for Fallout: New Vegas. First, the Courier needs to meet up with Jed Masterson, a traveling merchant working for the delightfully named Happy Trails Caravan Company. He tells you a bit about the caravan’s history, as well as his need for someone with a Pip-Boy 3000 to help him and his groupies navigate safely through Zion Canyon in hopes of trading with the Mormons in New Canaan. And off you go, zipping from state to the other in a matter of a single loading screen. However, once you arrive, your caravan is attacked and, sorry to say, you’re the lone survivor…which is a shame as Ricky would’ve made for a hilarious albeit annoying companion all the way through.

Speaking of companions, you can’t bring anyone with you in Honest Hearts. Sorry, ED-E. You’ll also need to drop your inventory down to only 75 lbs, which is irksome, but understandable. Thankfully, I was only at like 112/215 at that point, so I dropped some stupid things like lunchboxes and clothes I’ll never wear. At least they didn’t strip you of every awesome thing you worked really hard for like Bethesda has done in the past with Operation Anchorage, The Pitt, Mothership Zeta, and Dead Money.

So far, I’m enjoying Honest Hearts a thousand and five times more than Dead Money. It’s less claustrophobic, focusing more on exploring and looting through abandoned places considered too taboo for the native folk. The landscape itself is varied, but sparse of life, and at this point I’ve shot some geckos and steered clear of cazador groups. I was particularly surprised to see the Courier coming face to face with Joshua Graham, also known as the Burned Man, so soon into the adventure as I figured he’d be too pivotal and big for open chatting. Guess he’s desperate for help.

Also, kind of like when one first arrives at the Strip, the player is overwhelmed with a great number of quests to do. Like three at once, and then another five at once. It’s both great and maddening. I’m currently working on Rite of Passage, a side quest that’s more than a little trippy, while I figure out exactly how I want to go about Zion and saving its people (or not). I got to the end of the quest and quickly met death so I’m not sure if I’m ready for this or just if I need to plan better. We’ll see…right, Ghost of She?

And here’s what I’ve gotten so far Achievement-wise, both of which are simply tied to completing specific quests:

When We Remembered Zion (20G): Arrived at Zion.

Restore Our Fortunes (30G): Resupplied Daniel and the Sorrows.

Sadly, the Achievements for these DLC add-ons are never very exciting. If only the brains behind them would open up and get creative; I mean, the in-game challenges do a much better job of getting players to express their characters fully, encouraging my current Courier to melt enemies and damage limbs, rewarding us with bonus XP. Why not go the extra three feet and make some of those into Achievements? But I digress…

Looking forward to exploring more Utah territory. Most likely this weekend.

GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH: Final Fantasy: Mystic Quest

Sadly, I can only imagine how terrifying RPGs must have seemed when they first came out on gaming consoles years–nay, decades–ago. In contrast to games like Super Mario Bros and Zelda II: The Adventure of Link, here was a gaming genre that moved slowly, told a grandiose tale, reduced combat to a turn-by-turn basis, and asked the player to save frequently because there’s no way you’ll end up finishing this title off on a lazy Saturday afternoon. To ease gamers into this notion of quests of the epic nature and turn-based combat, Squaresoft released Final Fantasy: Mystic Quest for the SNES in 1992, a game that was, for all intents and purposes, a gateway drug to the realm of harder, more satisfying drugs. Drugs here being RPGs, people. Calm down.

Final Fantasy: Mystic Quest‘s plot is guessable. It’s about a young boy named Benjamin who is out to save the world. He’ll accomplish this hefty goal by collecting stolen crystals that affect the world’s four elemental powers. Yup. If that sounds familiar, you’re an attested RPGer. By the way, this unnamed world is divided into four regions: Foresta, Aquaria, Fireburg, and Windia. Go ahead and guess what each one is like, I’ll wait.

Gameplay, for an RPG, was simplified. And this was before Mass Effect II did it. Random battles, equipment customization, save points, and a full party system were abandoned for a streamlined, cleaner presentation that did most of the work for you. Newly acquired armor simply replaces the previously worn. You explored towns and chatted with folk, and you could chop down trees, blow up walls, and use a grappling hook to cross wide gaps. Sounds a bit more like a Zelda game, right? Here’s another instance of Squaresoft making it easier for gamers: the heal spell not only recovered lost HP, but also removed status ailments, eliminating the need for other item types.

I bought a copy of this game for über cheap several years after its release, after it missed the mark of finding lovers in the hardcore Final Fantasy fans, as well as the general mass market. I remember playing it for a bit, but never completing it. My favorite aspect was always how gargantuan the monsters you fought against were in comparison to Ben. Also, the main town in Windia stands out in my mind, but I can’t pinpoint why…maybe there was a band there playing music and I thought that was pretty neat? Maybe. But at some point, this game was bundled up with a bunch of other SNES carts as I traded them all in for my chance at a PlayStation. Strangely, it wouldn’t be until the PlayStation that a Final Fantasy game hit both targets of hardcore RPG fans and those not in the know.

Easy, simple RPGs, such as Costume Quest, can still be awesome, be loved. A part of me wants to believe the same can be said about Final Fantasy: Mystic Quest, but that same part also thinks that new equipment replacing old equipment against my will is extremely obnoxious.

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GAMES I REGRET PARTING WITH is a regular feature here at Grinding Down where I reminisce about videogames I either sold or traded in when I was young and dumb. To read up on other games I parted with, follow the tag.