Mourning Landmark

Last night, I got an email from Daybreak Games about Landmark. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I clicked and found my fears confirmed: Landmark will be shutting down next month.

Chock full of handy goodness!If I’m being honest, this isn’t hugely surprising. Landmark has struggled to find an audience since its inception, and while I didn’t expect the end to come quite this quickly, I thought there was a pretty good chance it wouldn’t survive the year.

But that doesn’t make the news any easier to hear. Landmark has never been a focus of my gaming time the way titles like World of Warcraft or The Secret World have been, but the 72 hours I’ve logged in it (according to Steam) is still more than you get out of most single-player games, and while my play has dropped off over the last few months, I’ve always enjoyed the time I’ve spent with it.

Landmark was a very bare-bones game, but the potential of what you could create was always exciting, the beautiful works of fellow players always inspiring. Gorgeous graphics, lovely music, a warm and welcoming community, and an endless stream of new sights to see made it a great game for relaxation.

I am reminded of some of the most impressive things I’ve seen. One person on my server bought up builds all along one coastline and built themselves an entire kingdom, with castles and towns and outposts. Another constructed a huge hollow tree with an incredibly beautiful and detailed home amongst the branches. I’ve seen screen-accurate replicas of the Enterprise and the Serenity, functioning Stargtes, and even a Tim Horton’s.

I think, also, of my own builds. I think of all the hours I spent perfecting my ambitious second build, and I can’t help but be frustrated that the Vale of Whispers’ life will be cut so short. I try to comfort myself with the knowledge of the players who’ve visited and enjoyed it.

My first build in Landmark, viewed from a distanceI think the first build is what I’ll miss the most, though. I built Maigraith’s Grove to be a serene place capturing all that I love about the fantasy genre, the natural world, and the interplay between the two. It was a wonderful place for relaxation, a literal happy place, and even as my time in Landmark dropped off, the mere knowledge of the Grove’s existence provided me a certain comfort. I may have grown up to be a city boy, but on some level the forest will always call to me, and my first build was a way to connect with that part of myself.

In a few weeks, they will be gone forever. I have taken many screenshots, and I may take more, but it will never be the same.

The journalist in me is watching my own reaction to the news with a kind of cold fascination. I’ve long lived with the knowledge that MMOs don’t last forever and that sooner or later I would become one of those people mourning a game lost, but this is the first time an MMO that I actually care about has shut down (it’s the third MMO I’ve played to sunset, but I had no real investment in or attachment to Dragon’s Prophet or Trinium Wars).

I am curious to see how I will cope with Landmark’s impending end. Will it motivate me to enjoy the game while I still can, or will the futility of it all drive me away?

My feelings can and likely will evolve over the coming weeks, but right now one emotion is drowning out all the others: Anger.

My character reclining by a waterfall on another person's build in LandmarkTo be blunt, I think the blame for Landmark’s end rests squarely on the shoulders of the MMO community.

When EverQuest Next was cancelled, the community turned on Daybreak, apparently not understanding that sometimes new concepts simply do not work. I, too, was disappointed by the cancellation of what looked to be a very promising game, but as someone who works in a creative field myself, I understood that it was simply a failed experiment. Unfortunate, but sometimes unavoidable.

The community, however, chose to demonize Daybreak as some sort of ogre. They took EverQuest Next’s cancellation personally. And a lot of that hate spilled over to Landmark, the proverbial lemonade made from EverQuest Next’s remnants.

People hated Landmark because it wasn’t Next. People hated Landmark just because it was made by Daybreak. People hated it because they had misinformed or unrealistic expectations of what it was supposed to be.

Landmark was never given a fair chance by the community. It was written off as a failure before it launched. It was lambasted with unfair and often misinformed reviews. It was attacked at every turn.

That’s not to say that all criticism of the game was unfair, or that it was by any stretch of the imagination a perfect game. It was grindier than it needed to be, its combat was weak, and it suffered from an unacceptable level of bugs and technical hiccups.

Soaring across the ocean in LandmarkAnd it is true that Daybreak has mismanaged it in some ways. It didn’t seem to get much in the way of marketing, for one thing. But far less deserving games have succeeded where Landmark failed. If Daybreak is the one that steered it into dangerous waters, the community is still the one that sunk it. Again, it was simply never given a fair shot.

I have long been a harsh critic of the state of the gaming community, and I’m sad to say that my cynicism has once again been proven right. We live a world where people cheer for games to fail, where the slightest misstep by developers is met by a level of bile that should be reserved for war criminals.

People are always wondering why MMO developers are so risk-adverse. Why they so rarely try new things, why they tend to be so cagey and uncommunicative. Look in the mirror, because that’s where you’ll find your answer.

I did have a nice if bittersweet time commiserating with the other Landmarkians last night. Lots of people visiting each other’s builds while they still can, lots of support. I got a nice compliment on my build from one person. They’re trying to find a way to keep the community together even after the game shuts down. I haven’t played the game enough to rightly count myself a member of the community, but I wish them well.

Review: StarCraft, Evolution

I tried really hard to give this book the benefit of the doubt.

Oh, there were warning signs early on. Little things that were wrong, that showed an author who hadn’t done their research. Since when does Valerian Mengsk of all fekking people use casual slang?

Cover at for StarCraft: Evolution by Timothy Zahn.Still, I didn’t want to judge too harshly out of the gate. This was Timothy Zahn’s first book in the StarCraft universe, and besides, a few hiccups here and there aren’t the end of the world. Knaak’s writing can be a little rough, too, but I usually end up enjoying his stuff all the same.

I did a double-take when I realized that most of the new characters had received little to no physical description, forcing me to conjure my own images of them out of whole cloth. (I decided Tanya has red hair because she’s a ghost and, y’know, Kerrigan and all.) That should have been a pretty big red flag right there.

But StarCraft has had a really good run over the past year or two. Everything that’s been released in-game has been excellent, pretty much without exception, and it’s felt like the franchise has entered a golden age, like it can do no wrong.

So I pressed on. And I kept pressing on, until the end of the book, at which point I had no choice but to admit the truth: Evolution is a sloppy, dull book written by someone who appears to have little to no understanding of the StarCraft universe or its characters.

Evolution presents a rather bizarre scenario. It involves an attempt at a peace conference between the Swarm, the Dominion, and the Daelaam Protoss. What’s even more shocking is that the conference was orchestrated by the Zerg, by Zagara herself.

Zagara claims she wants to usher in a new era of peace in the Koprulu Sector, and to prove her intentions she’s used the Zerg mastery of bio-engineering to bring life to a formerly dead world. She promises do the same on Terran and Protoss worlds, to heal the scars wrought by the End War.

To test the truth of her claims, Emperor Valerian sends a survey team to the surface, including a surprisingly chill reaper, an underachieving pyrokinetic ghost, a scientist, a mysterious Protoss exile, and Generic Meathead Marine Dude #24601. It soon becomes clear to the survey team that sinister forces are at work on the newly green world, and tensions run high on all sides as a new war seems increasingly likely.

It’s a pretty weird premise, and a bit hard to swallow at first, but ultimately it’s the execution far more so than the concept that drags Evolution down.

And to be fair, it’s not entirely bad. Some of the new creatures and concepts introduced are pretty cool from a strictly sci-fi perspective, and if these plot threads are ever revisited (hopefully by a different author), they could go interesting places.

Some of the new characters aren’t bad, either. They’re no R.M. Dahl or Mike Liberty, but they’re not without their charm. Tanya, the ghost, is kind of cool, and I love the nickname the other ghosts gave her: Pyrokeet.

The pre-existing characters, though, are a mess. I’ve already said that Valerian’s speech pattern was all wrong, and Horner displayed basically zero personality through the whole thing.

Abathur, though, is the real travesty here. The author does not understand Abathur at all. He acts so wildly, absurdly out of character in this book that it’s just intolerable. I clearly remember dialogue in Heart of the Swarm that directly and completely contradicts all of Abathur’s behaviour in this book.

Artanis feels right, but really, how hard is it to write for Artanis? The man isn’t exactly complicated.

And there’s no shortage of things that are far-fetched, or just straight up don’t make sense. Like how an interstellar transport takes about eight hours just to cross one planet for some fekking reason.

The only real silver lining here is that Evolution doesn’t seem that relevant to the ongoing story. Normally this would be a bad thing, but this book is such a mess I’m glad it’s not super likely to have a lasting impact of the course of the StarCraft universe.

I wouldn’t mind seeing more stories about the adostra, but please, Blizzard, get Christie Golden to write them.

In the end, Evolution is a wreck, but it’s a pretty self-contained wreck. It’s not enough to spoil StarCraft’s current golden age.

Some of the StarCraft novels have been truly excellent, and are among the best sci-fi books I’ve ever read. This isn’t one of them.

At least it was better than Speed of Darkness.

Overall rating: 4.1/10