My Love/Hate Relationship With RPGS

You might be surprised to learn this, but for a good chunk of my life, I considered RPGs to be my least favourite of the major video game genres. I played several, but I usually felt them to be more frustrating than fun.

My rogue surveys her domainEven now that I’ve matured a bit and learned to appreciate RPGs more, there’s still a very significant part of me that’s constantly rolling its eyes and cursing under its breath as I play them. I’ve coined the term “RPG BS” to describe the more irritating habits of the genre, and my opinion of an RPG usually boils down to how much it can minimize this “BS.”

So why do I keep playing RPGs despite loathing many of their fundamental aspects? I asked myself that question, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I love the fantasy of the RPG, but that the reality of the genre often doesn’t align with that fantasy, and in many cases, even actively works against it.

Fantasy versus reality:

At its heart, the RPG genre is about putting the player into the classic hero myth. Start from humble beginnings, go through many trials and tribulations, learn from those experiences and grow into a more powerful hero, and achieve glorious victory.

That’s an awesome concept for a video game. You take the most core and powerful human story, and you put the player center stage. A good RPG is like a brilliant novel or a masterpiece film, but even better, because it’s not some abstract character you’re watching from the outside. You’re living it. It’s your story.

Even if you’re someone who doesn’t pay a lot of attention to story in games, it’s still a thrill to go through that archetypal journey. We’re just hardwired as a species to be drawn to that concept of growth, trial, and achievement.

My wizard posing with Eirena in Diablo IIIThis is what draws me to RPGs. To live the fantasy of the epic hero.

But a lot of the traditional mechanics of RPGs are completely divorced from that fantasy, or outright harmful to it.

I’m sure a lot of purists will sneer at me this, but the obsession with numerical balancing acts is one of the worst aspects of the RPG genre for me. Everything in these supposedly epic adventures boils down to math.

You’ve got to carefully pick and choose where all your stats go, and there’s generally very little thought to it since there are rarely more than a handful of ways to build a character effectively. Rare indeed is the RPG where a warrior stacks intelligence.

Boiling everything down to math rips me right out of the fantasy. I don’t recall Shea Ohmsford having to reach at least 35 points of strength or learn the “Mystic Sword Mastery” talent to wield the Sword of Shannara.

A lot of the restrictions RPGs place on characters based on their stats are completely illogical, too. You level up skills or attributes so that you can wield powerful weapons or spells. Logically, it should be the other way around. You practice with melee weapons; you get better at melee weapons. You try a new spell and slowly become more adept at it.

The Darkspawn march through the Dead Trenches in Dragon Age: OriginsGranted, in a lot of games it functions more or less this way anyway since you’ll generally be using the same fighting style the whole way through — God forbid a player have the chance to experiment — so a melee fighter will slowly work their way up to more powerful weapons. But having to think excessively about your stats or your build distracts from the fantasy and detracts from the adventure.

Winning on the character sheet, not the battlefield:

In the end, success in the majority of RPGs relies much less to how you play your character and much more on how you build your character. Aside from detracting from the heroic fantasy, this also sucks a lot of the fun out of the gameplay. Combat isn’t very exciting when you know the outcome has likely been decided long before it begins. It devalues things like reflexes and snap decision-making and makes one feel unheroic.

Excitement comes from narrowly avoiding boss attacks, executing perfect combinations of abilities, and making sound strategic decisions in the heat of combat, not from Googling a theorycrafted build, equipping some phat lewt, and facerolling your way through enemies.

The reason I loved the original Dungeon Siege was that it was a game that got out of its own way and let you live the heroic fantasy. You just picked up whatever kind of weapons or magic you wanted to use and got fighting. The more you used melee weapons, the more skilled you became with them. Want to be a combat mage? Just start throwing fireballs. You built your character by playing the game, as opposed to playing the game by building your character.

The logo for Dungeon SiegeThis focus on building over playing is compounded by the fact that most RPGs make changing builds difficult, costly, or outright impossible, thus punishing mistakes or experimentation. I don’t mind The Secret World’s dependence on build choices for success because swapping abilities is incredibly quick and easy. It’s an element of gameplay, not a chore. Plus, it encourages experimentation, rather than discouraging it.

Thinking of TSW and its adaptability, another pet peeve of mine about RPGs is how they limit players and force them into such narrow boxes. Most force you to pick a class, and there’s generally little opportunity to customize these classes in truly meaningful ways. You can be a warrior who specializes in swords, or a warrior who specializes in axes.

This one isn’t so black and white. Classes do have a positive impact, as well, because it gives people readily identifiable archetypes and allows them to jump into a game and know what kind of experience they’re going to have. Most people are going to gravitate to certain playstyles, anyway.

But still, I wish games would be a little more creative with their classes or at least offer some more diverse ways to customize them. Given the choice, I’d probably play every game as a plate-wearing mage who dual wields swords. Or maybe an arcane archer.

Humble beginnings:

There is one way that RPGs are good at sticking to the heroic fantasy, but it’s the one way that they probably shouldn’t: the idea of starting as nobody.

My hunter on the Wandering IsleStarting from nothing and working your up to a great hero makes for a good story — though I think the “humble beginnings” angle is overplayed, myself — but it doesn’t make for exciting gameplay. I don’t particularly enjoy running around in rags and killing boars with a rusty kitchen knife.

In my experience, single-player RPGs are getting better about throwing you into the exciting stuff immediately, but a lot of MMOs still have the nasty habit of forcing you to wade through level upon level of tedium to get to the good stuff.

Gear:

And we come to my final gripe.

The idea of iconic weapons and armor is very core to a lot of heroic stories. Frodo had Sting and his mithril tunic. Perseus had his mirrored shield and winged sandals. Tirion Fordring has the Ashbringer.

Nothing says “fantasy hero” like slaying a terrible beast, collecting a weapon of incredible power from its hoard, and using this weapon to bring justice to the world.

My Dragon under the moonlight in Blue MountainRPG developers recognize this and make gear core to progression in most games, but therein lies the problem. They’ve made gear so central that it’s fallen away from the original fantasy.

See, Frodo didn’t replace Sting with the Bloodied Handaxe of Savagery, and then replace that with the +1 Giant Stick of Compensation.

The whole thing about iconic weapons and armor is that they’re iconic. RPGs have made gear so meaningful that it’s become meaningless. You never grow attached to your equipment. It doesn’t become a core part of your character’s identity.

I’m reminded of a game I played in my youth called Drakan: Order of the Flame. It wasn’t exactly an RPG, but it had elements of one, such as gear. But in Drakan, new items were relatively uncommon, and really good items were even rarer. I remember one weapon you could find in act one, the Mace of the Hand, was so good that you generally wouldn’t replace it until act three. That’s how gear should work.

In the case of MMOs, gear is especially problematic because it becomes a treadmill. You need to regularly perform gear resets and make people start over again. My characters in WoW aren’t any more powerful now than they were when I joined back in Wrath of the Lich King.

My mesmer showing off her gear in Diessa PlateauI like how The Secret World handles gear, because they don’t do resets. They add new forms of progression instead. Gear upgrades are also rare enough to feel meaningful. My Dragon used his sword from last year’s Mayan event up until just a few weeks ago.

The later Mass Effect games also had an interesting take on gear. Rather than making new pieces of armor numerically superior, they just granted different kinds of bonuses. Gearing was a strategic choice, not a matter of “this has bigger numbers, so I’ll equip it.”

Making everything depend on gear also devalues the concept of your character as a hero. My WoW characters are weak as kittens without their gear. That’s not exciting; a hero should be a badass no matter what they’re wearing or what weapons they wield.

* * *

RPGs have become more interesting since I was a kid, and they are amazing games when they can effectively capture that heroic fantasy. But far too often, they’re bogged down in mechanics that do more harm than good.

Review: World of Warcraft: Mists of Pandaria

Epic nerd rant time.

I have a lot to say, both good and bad, so I’ll get right to it. Let’s start with…

My monk stares down the Sha of Doubt in World of WarcraftThe bad:

For me, Mists of Pandaria has been an expansion defined by grind, excessive gating of content, and a tedious and confused endgame that seems designed to keep me playing the game for as long as possible not because I enjoy it, but because that’s the only way to play.

Let’s start with the daily grind early on. This issue has been beaten to death, but I’d like to address it anyway, because I think some important points have been lost in the arguments.

There’s nothing wrong with dailies. They’re a valid form of content, and an important part of WoW’s endgame. The problems with dailies as they were at the start of Mists of Pandaria are twofold.

One is that most of them were simply not good dailies. They were largely lacking in vehicle quests, bombing runs, or anything else interesting. How many expansions need to go by before Blizzard realizes that killing crabs for meat at a 25% drop rate is not fun and never will be?

The other, more important issue, is that forcing everyone into a single type of content to be competitive is always a bad idea. We went through this in Cataclysm with “raid or die.” In MoP, it became “rep or die.”

My rogue is inducted into the Shado-panNeither dailies nor raids are bad content; the problem is that everyone had to do them if they wanted to progress, whether they enjoyed them or not. People should be able to progress through whatever content they most enjoy.

This worries me more than anything, because it shows Blizzard isn’t learning from their mistakes. MoP had many of the same problems as Cataclysm, just in a slightly different wrapper.

On top of that, endgame progression was made all the more daunting by how confusing it was. I’m pretty tolerant of iteration in a live game, but the changes to the gearing path just about gave me whiplash.

“You need to grind rep to buy valor and justice gear. Okay, now just valor gear. Now you can also use your valor to upgrade your gear. Oh, wait, nevermind, we removed that. Here’s new valor gear locked behind a new and marginally less painful rep grind! Okay, now we’re bringing back the valor upgrades, and some of the old valor gear now costs justice, but no new valor gear.”

Valor and justice were also greatly devalued. Valor rewards were drastically reduced from where they were in Cataclysm, and justice was made so useless that it was mostly just converted to honor so people could buy PvP gear as a starter in PvE.

My warlock grinding Black Prince rep in the Dread WastesLet me repeat that: The primary PvE currency was only useful as a way to buy PvP gear, to use in PvE.

The mind boggles.

And this hobbling of valor and justice rewards made players more reliant on luck with drops, further increasing a sense of grind. Nothing like running raids all week and getting absolutely nothing meaningful out of it.

I hate relying on randomized reward systems.

For as long as I’ve played WoW, my endgame has revolved around farming justice and valor (and frost and triumph before that). It’s what I enjoy. It’s how I like to play.

By completely mangling the valor/justice system, Blizzard all but destroyed my endgame. They tried to make me do more, but they left me unmotivated to do anything at all, and I wound up losing interest in WoW for months at a time.

This brings me to another point: I find Blizzard’s efforts to artificially extend the life of content to be ultimately self-defeating.

My warlock meets with Lor'themar Theron following the Purge of DalaranFor instance, I loved the Landfall storyline in 5.1. Absolutely top notch storytelling. But I did it once, and I’m never doing it again, because I’m burnt out on the dailies needed to unlock it.

By contrast, I also loved Elemental Bonds back in Cataclysm, and since it’s all fun and no grind, I’ve done it on every character that’s hit 85, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.

Another thing that greatly irritated me was the immense gating on the Raid Finder. Waiting over a month to see a full raid after its release is ridiculous.

It’s especially painful if you care about the story, because it means you either have to cut yourself off from the WoW community entirely or have everything spoiled for you long before you get to experience it yourself.

And it’s yet another thing that sends the message that anyone not in a raiding guild is a second class citizen.

Then there’s a lengthy list of little annoyances: The pointless removal of Have Group Will Travel, no “Tome of Pandarian Flying” for alts, no spectral gryphons while dead, etc..

My warlock earns her legendary cloak at the Seat of KnowledgeAdd all that to my longstanding complaints about the game — such as my dislike for the subscription model and Blizzard’s apparent unwillingness to put any significant effort into moderating the community — and I’m finding it very hard to get excited about WoW like I used to.

But the heartbreaking thing about MoP isn’t how much went wrong. It’s how much went right.

Behold the wonders of Pandaria:

Probably the best thing about MoP was Pandaria itself. The entire continent is beautiful, immersive, and filled with memorable characters and captivating soundtracks.

I can’t say enough good about Pandaria. It’s so different and exotic, but yet it doesn’t feel out of place compared to the rest of the Warcraft universe. Blizzard crafted thousands of years of new history for this continent, but it doesn’t feel random or slapdash. It fits perfectly into the greater story of Azeroth.

Speaking of story, MoP featured one of the best main storylines in WoW to date. Far from the kid-friendly expansion many expected, it was incredibly dark and mature. It harkens back to the glory days of Warcraft III with its moral complexity and epic scale.

The Sha of Hatred in World of Warcraft: Mists of PandariaAt its best, Warcraft has always been a bit subversive. It seems to glorify war at first glance, but at its heart, it’s really about how evil and pointless war truly is. MoP exemplifies this.

MoP made me emotionally invested in a way few other expansions have. It wasn’t afraid to paint both Alliance and Horde as less than perfect. We as players did terrible things and failed in some spectacular ways, but we also had the opportunity to redeem ourselves and make things right. It was a very satisfying arc.

Please, Blizzard, give us more of this.

I was also quite impressed with the Pandaren themselves. I was never a panda hater, but I definitely had doubts about whether they would be a worthy addition. I was quite happily wrong; the Pandaren are one of the best cultures in Warcraft.

The clever thing was that Blizzard let us see all sides of Pandaren culture. From the humble Tillers, to the sage Lorewalkers, to the mighty Shado-pan. Seeing such diversity among the Pandaren made them feel like a complete people, not just an archetype.

Also, I absolutely adore Lorewalker Cho and Taran Zhu. Each is utterly awesome, but in completely different ways.

My rogue plants the banner of Theramore in OrgrimmarMonks were also a very positive addition. Admittedly, as a rogue player, I can’t help but feel cheated by monks getting all the improvements we’ve spent years asking for, but brewmaster tanking is stupidly fun, so I can’t stay mad at monks.

While the progression model was a train wreck, the actual content of MoP’s endgame was very good, dailies and Timeless Isle aside. Throne of Thunder was a bit dull, but otherwise, the raids were all fun. I loved all the details and cameos in Siege of Orgrimmar.

Scenarios are fantastic. They fill a great niche of quick, low-stress group content, and they’re a great storytelling tool.

I believe that the five-man dungeons in MoP were among the best in the game’s history. They were visually engaging, had good lore, and were neither too long nor too short.

Unfortunately, this brings up another complaint, as MoP was the first expansion in WoW’s history to not add any five-man dungeons after launch.

There’s not much to say about this decision other than that it was terrible, and it once again sends the message that what I want doesn’t matter because I’m not a raider.

My rogue exploring the Temple of the Jade SerpentLet’s be clear. The choice was not dungeons or raids. It was dungeons or slightly better raids. It leaves a bitter taste in one’s mouth when giving one section of the fanbase a slightly better version of their preferred content is a bigger priority than giving you any content at all.

It seems as though there’s no positive aspect of MoP that doesn’t come with some annoying caveat.

The verdict:

MoP had all the right ingredients to be a mind-blowing expansion. But they still managed to suck almost all the fun out of it with a litany of poor design decisions. I won’t say it was a bad expansion, but it fell far short of its potential, and the way Blizzard keeps making the same mistakes year after year leaves me very worried for the future of the game.

Overall rating: 7.1/10 As a story and a piece of art, it was excellent. As a game, it was a major step backward from where we were at the end of Cataclysm.