Tyler Versus the MMO Trinity, Part Two: Life Outside the Trinity

We come now to part two of my trinity trinity, a trio of posts on the tank, healer, DPS triad of MMORPG group rules and how I’d really like to see the genre break free of it. Catch up on part one if you missed it.

My Templar's group cuts a heroic pose in The Secret World's Polaris dungeonToday I’d like to highlight some of the best experiences I’ve had without the trinity, or at least with a modified version of it. Interestingly nearly all of these are from games that theoretically do subscribe to a rigid trinity, though I imagine that’s just a coincidence.

I hope to accomplish two things by doing this. First, it offers more insight into where I’m coming from when I talk about alternatives to the traditional trinity, and second, it further debunks the notion that a rigid trinity is necessary for interesting group content.

Two Sith walk into a bar flashpoint:

Star Wars: The Old Republic’s tactical flashpoints are a fascinating ground for experimentation with MMO group roles. The game builds a full group for these, but it does so agnostic of roles, and the content is tuned accordingly. Usually this means you end up with full DPS, or three DPS and a single tank or healer, but sometimes stranger things happen.

Such was the case a few weeks ago, when I had one of the most fun group experiences of my MMO career.

I queued for my first dungeon on my Sith inquisitor, who I’m building as a tank. I fully expected to be the only tank in a group of damage dealers, but I wound up matched with another tank of the same class alongside two ranged DPS. The responsibility usually placed on a single individual became spread between half the group.

A tactical flashpoint with two tanks in Star Wars: The Old RepublicIt was glorious.

All that social pressure, all that fear of failure, melted away. I had all the fun of tanking and none of the downsides. I waded into combat fearlessly, imposing my will on my enemies, without fear that a wrong move would doom the group. The other tank and I worked together, taunting mobs off each if one of us ever became overwhelmed.

The trinity is often held up as a shining example of team work, but really, everyone is kind of doing their own thing. My fellow Sith and I felt more like a team — in a random PUG with minimal communication — than most hard trinity groups I’ve been a part of.

Even aesthetically, it was a major improvement. My comrade and I formed a wall of armour and blazing lightsabers, holding back the enemies from our softer team mates. There was no breaking of immersion here; it looked and felt like a real battle.

I cannot overstate how fun this run was. I long for a time when experiences such as this might be commonplace in MMOs. This is how it ought to be.

Never say Neverwinter:

Neverwinter does have a traditional trinity, but of all the games I’ve played, it has the best take on it, at least if you ask me.

My cleric battling wererats in NeverwinterNeverwinter may have the trinity, but if you’ll pardon the pun, it’s not religious about it. I’ve done high-end dungeons with no tank and done fine, and the roles are a bit softer. Tanks generally don’t hold aggro on everything all the time, and DPS can survive a few hits. Both tanks and healers still do decent damage, though less than their damage-oriented comrades. Heavy use of healing potions helps balance the responsibility of player survival.

The most fun I’ve had as a healer in an MMO — at least in terms of core mechanics — was as a devoted cleric in Neverwinter.

In Neverwinter, healers aren’t just slaves to HP bars. They’re more like Swiss army knives, utility characters adapting on a moment to moment basis. Sometimes you’ll be healing, but other times you’ll be throwing out buffs, and if nothing else is needed at the moment, you can put out some respectable damage.

I like this because it’s not forcing you into a narrow box the way the trinity does. I get to experience a broader wedge of combat without having to change character or specialization. To borrow the metaphor from my first post, it might not quite be a peanut butter sandwich yet, but it is at least toast with peanut butter.

…Hopefully I won’t get in trouble with the Hague for torturing that metaphor so much.

Old school oddness:

There isn’t much I miss about life before dungeon finders, but one thing that I do have some nostalgia for is being forced to come up with odd, random group compositions out of sheer desperation.

My panda hunter doing Scarlet Monastary in World of WarcraftThe tank left? The warlock is pulling out his voidwalker. Healer ragequit? Well, the shadow priest is gonna throw out some heals, and the rogue has some bandages, and the mage is praying to every deity in the book that we finish this.

It didn’t always work. It often failed miserably. And it wasn’t sustainable. We were able to bluff our way through some leveling dungeons, but you couldn’t do challenging, endgame content that way.

But it was interesting to stretch your toolkit that way. It required a lot more thought than a rigid trinity does, and again, you weren’t being forced into some narrow role. That voidwalker wasn’t going to hold aggro on everything all the time. That shadow priest wasn’t going to save you if you didn’t make good use of your own survival tools.

It offered respite from the stifling order and choreography of the trinity.

Double D:

I was always surprised by how much I’ve enjoyed instanced group content in MMO shooters like Defiance and to a lesser extent The Division.

Now, I’ll be honest. It’s pretty mindless. It’s not exactly every man, woman, and rogue Castithan for themselves, but teamwork is much less than you’d find with a hard trinity.

Battling a Dark Matter mech during a major Arkfall in DefianceBut it’s fun. There’s a joyful chaos to running in, guns blazing, and watching the bodies hit the floor.

Games are meant to be fun. They don’t always have to be super serious, or intellectually stimulating, or brutally challenging.

I wouldn’t want all games to devolve into mindless anarchy with little team play and no roles, but there is a place for that. Again, I want variety. Mindless slaughterfests should be part of a balanced MMO diet.

* * *

Next time, in my final post on the MMO trinity, I will outline my plan for how I would “fix” the trinity.

Gaming: The Love/Hate Developers

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you’ll note that there are some game developers towards which I have, shall we say, very intense feelings. You’ll often see me going on epic rants about their blunders or casually putting them down. Yet paradoxically I’ll play virtually anything these companies produce, and I remain rabidly passionate about their games. It could be pretty confusing to a reader.

A vision of the Xel'naga keystone in StarCraft 2: Legacy of the VoidFor all their flaws, though, each of these developers brings something special to the world of gaming, something exquisite that keeps me coming back for more. I thought it would be interesting to look at these companies and explain why I am so loyal to them, despite everything.

Up until relatively recently, only one developer would have fit his category, but these days the number has grown. No prizes for guessing that the original is…

Blizzard Entertainment:

I have been playing Blizzard games since before I knew how to spell my own name, and they remain a company to whom I am so loyal that I often joke they “own my soul.”

But that doesn’t mean I think they’re perfect. Far from it. In fact, they faceplant with alarming regularity, and their games are almost never without some significant flaw.

I think Blizzard’s brilliance and their blunders both stem from the same source: passion.

The Heart of Fear in World of WarcraftHave you ever seen Chris Metzen talk about the games he’s worked on? He’s the living embodiment of childlike joy and enthusiasm. He has so much passion for Blizzard’s games it’s like he could spontaneously combust at any moment.

And I think that’s true of all of Blizzard to some extent. They love games. They love making games. They have fantastic passion for everything they do.

And therein lies their folly. I think much of Blizzard’s mistakes come from them being so caught up in their passion and excitement that they don’t take the time to pause and think if what they’re doing is really a good idea.

I think that’s how we got the trainwreck that is Warlords of Draenor. They thought, “Hey, I bet it’d be cool to bring back all the old Horde characters,” and never considered much beyond that. If they had, they would have realized what a powerfully dumb idea that is.

I don’t know if this preference for passion over common sense can explain every one of Blizzard’s mistakes, but I think it’s one of their most core flaws and the reason why their plots are often a bit shallow, their continuity nonexistent, and their games rough around the edges.

The bridge of the Spear of Adun in StarCraft II: Legacy of the VoidBut that same passion is what makes their games irresistible. Blizzard are so colourful, so larger than life, so bombastic and beautiful and unabashedly fun that nothing else can compete. I often say that Blizzard games may be popcorn movies, but they are the absolute best popcorn movies around.

Their passion means that when Blizzard gets something right, they get it so right. Legacy of the Void was a breathtakingly epic experience and an absolute joy from beginning to end. Ditto for Reign of Chaos, Reaper of Souls, and to a lesser extent Wrath of the Lich King and Mists if Pandaria.

At their best, Blizzard games are the perfect embodiment of the entire concept of “superior realities” that this blog is based on, an utterly engrossing vacation from anything resembling the real world.

Bioware:

I’ve often said that Bioware makes great choose your own adventure novels, but no one told them they’re a video game company. This is my way of saying that they’re good at story-telling, but that they seem to put no real effort into compelling gameplay.

Of all the Bioware games I’ve played, Inquisition is the only one where I’d list the combat and general game mechanics as a mark in the game’s favour. And even then, Inquisition’s combat isn’t great. It’s just decent. And I’m not sure I’d feel so good about if knight-enchanters hadn’t been so crazy overpowered.

My agent at work in her stronghold in Star Wars: The Old RepublicThat leaves story-telling as Bioware’s strength, but even that isn’t entirely true. The main storylines in Bioware games are, at best, hit and miss. The only ones that really impressed me on that front are Dragon Age 2 and Mass Effect 3 (yeah, I’m a freak). Origins’ story was just weak, Inquisition and ME2 had potential but became entirely too bogged down with irrelevant side missions, and ME1’s story was okay but not exactly mind-blowing.

Bioware is also, ironically, one of the worst developers out there for marrying story and gameplay. As in they don’t even try. The story is told through scripted cutscenes that are entirely divorced from the actual gameplay. Game mechanics are almost never used to heighten or enhance the story being told. Part of the reason I was so impressed with Inquisition’s Trespasser DLC was because they finally did start using game mechanics to enhance the story (IE the mark going crazy).

However, there are two things about Bioware games that are truly special.

One is the choices they offer. Even if Bioware’s stories aren’t always stellar, they’re engaging because it’s your story. There’s a tremendous satisfaction to being able to react as you choose to the situations the game throws at you, and it allows you to become so much more deeply invested than you otherwise might be.

I was reflecting recently that I almost never make the “evil” choices in games, but I’m glad they exist, because it makes the “good” choices feel far more meaningful. Sometimes being the hero isn’t about saving the world so much as it is about simply not clicking the button that says, “[Torture him]”.

My Shepard in Mass Effect 3It appeals to me as a writer, too. All the hard work of building a world and characters is done for me, and I can go nuts telling the story I want to.

Even then the choice system is often very imperfect. If I had a nickel for every time in a Bioware game I made the wrong choice because of a misunderstanding…

But very few games offer this kind of experience on this scale, so Bioware kind of has a monopoly.

The other thing Bioware does better than anyone else is creating amazing characters.

I’ve often tried to explain to non-gamers in my life what the characters in Bioware games are like, but words can’t do it justice. They feel real enough to reach out and touch. Going back and replaying a game feels like a family reunion. I genuinely miss talking to characters like Sera, or Tali, or Thane, or Merrill.

That’s not to say I always like the characters in Bioware games. In fact, every game has had at least one cast member I’d happily shove down a flight of stairs: Alistair, Isabela, Vivienne, Zaeed, Jack, Kaliyo…

NOT ONE WORD, DWARF.But even there, the depth of hatred I have for these characters speaks to their quality and realness.

Dontnod:

It might be a bit early to add Dontnod to the list, since they’ve only put out two games so far, but already they have all the makings of another company I love and hate in equal measure.

Life Is Strange and Remember Me were both brilliant games with serious flaws. On the whole, I found Remember Me was good enough to forgive the flaws, but Life Is Strange not so much. I know the general consensus is the other way around.

But what I respect is that both were games with big ideas, big ambitions. They tried to not only be good video games, but works of art, as well, and largely succeeded, despite their stumbles. I’d rather games that shoot for the stars and fall a little short.

The Saint-Michal District of Neo-Paris in Remember MeI’m already kind of excited about Vampyr, and I don’t even like vampire fiction.