Touching Special Places–2011’s Best iOS Strategy Titles

Dear reader, in the borrowed structure of Rampaging Roy Slaven, do you think iOS gaming is a waste of time and lacks the ego-stroking, self-determined legitimacy of ‘proper games’?  If the answer is ‘yes’, don’t bother reading further (or calling in to our talkback line). 

2011 was a very, VERY strong year for Apple’s touch devices.  Going against those famous words of Steve Jobs – who millions mourned at his sad passing – the strategy genre on iOS has been anything but ‘foolish’ and we’ve not been hungry for such games in the year’s duration. 

Let’s get straight into it, because if one thing is perennial in touch-gaming, it’s all about getting in as quickly as possible.  Chow those fibre pills, snack on a bag of prunes and park the beef on the Royal Dalton.  It is on. 

Starbase Orion

I’ve covered this gem prior, but it damn well deserves the praise heaped upon it and more.  Few things can beat a 4X space empire builder in your pocket, especially one packing asynchronous multiplayer.  It certainly makes for a more legitimate game than all of those internet browser affairs, revelling in the notion that it is indeed the direct portable descendent of Masters of Orion 2. 

Without reinviting verbosity, Starbase Orion is all about stellar conquest and developing a robust empire to feed an increasingly ravenous economic and military machine.  There is no great diplomatic facet, no differing paths to victory.  Starbase Orion is about subjugation, about annexation and obliteration, it is solely about annihilation.  Orbitally bombard an enemy base.  Deploy troop transports for a planetary invasion.  Research shipyards, greater naval weaponry, enhance your espionage and sabotage capacities, buttress border worlds with planetary defences and the exciting list goes on. 

The interface is slick; flicking between and arranging an empire and assigned planetary projects is one of triumph.  As the lifeblood of Starbase Orion is population, distributed between the three main disciplines of food production, manufacturing and research, shifting workforce ratios is as easy as moving population abstractions between discipline slots with a single swipe, either within a planetary worker pool or between planets or even between systems. 

The fact that players now have the opportunity to take what traditionally was a predominantly solitary experience into the realm of portable asynchronous multiplayer is the biggest feather in the cap of Starbase Orion.  What’s more, it features an intelligent turn-based system that measures empire projects and milestones against each other, so players with short-term development, manufacturing or explorative goals set might find they receive two or three sequential turns before their opposition receives theirs on account of finishing a project.  It might sound complicated and even slightly unbalanced, but it keeps things fast in the early game and becomes less of an observable facet after player expansion.

All in all, Starbase Orion is one hell of a game.  With a clutch of differing races and the ability to create custom ones, it should cure what ails any space strategy freak. 

Ravenmark: Scourge of Estellion

Along with Starbase Orion, this is what I offer up as a shining example of iOS gaming depth.  Ravenmark is an army-centric fantasy turn-based strategy gem worthy of a much higher price tag – and on any other system, it would certainly be the case.  What makes Ravenmark special is the sheer degree of love a plucky studio out of Singapore put into this debut effort.  Not content with simply offering up a tactically-sound detachment-level TBS that can rival the best of Koei’s efforts (as Romance of the Three Kingdoms is the closest cousin to Ravenmark’s combat mechanics), but there’s an incredibly deep backstory not only to the world itself, but to each unit, religion and factions. 

The campaign itself is a tough but enjoyable one, with an ensemble of interesting characters and surprisingly fine writing and a great soundtrack.  I don’t want to say much more, dear reader, outside of fans of Japanese SRPGs and tabletop wargames owe it to themselves to pick it up.  From the intuitive UI to the crisp graphics and snappy movement and combat, Ravenmark is peerless and stands toe-to-toe with contemporaries of far greater budgets and manpower.

Legion of the Damned

Dear reader, love stalks me once more.  This time in the form of a hex-based sci-fi wargame based on the military science fiction novel series by acclaimed author William C. Dietz, and by Jupiter’s many moons, it is a winner! 

If you’re familiar with the names Missionforce: Cyberstorm or Panzer General, you should already be acquainted with what lineage Legion of the Damned stems from.  It might look perhaps a little basic to those thinking science fiction strategy gaming starts and stops with Starcraft, but this is a very different beast and, to use  a snippet of phraseology from George Stobbart, if you know your onions you will know there is some serious tactical firepower within Legion of the Damned. 

William C. Dietz also wrote the campaign story, so there’s some great military sci-fi trappings throughout in this tale of a reanimated rogue’s gallery of cyborgs given a second chance to serve the Empire as a bio-augmented frontier force against an encroaching alien threat. 

The meat and potatoes, naturally, is the combat.  After a raft of in-depth boot camp tutorials, the challenge ramps up quickly, testing a player’s ability to enact lessons learned prior.  The use of recon, artillery spotting and use of terrain is paramount – as well it should be – but each of the three factions brings a different experience to the wargaming table.  Punctuating each mission are fully-voiced slideshow animations that do a great job of adding flair to an already interesting title – something Legion of the Damned and Ravenmark share. 

However, dear reader, Legion of the Damned has, like Starbase Orion, a planet-splitting weapon in its feature arsenal.  Outside of the map creation and sharing component, you have an asynchronous multiplayer battleground to dig into.  When setting up a game, players can select a free-for-all or a team-based 2v2 match.  The option to choose a faction is also offset by the fact there are three ‘loadouts’ or compositional army types – Recon, Assault and Resistance – and feature differing unit numbers and classes upon deployment to the field. 

Legion of the Damned is a game of territory or flag capture, so even the early game of a match is speedy and directed.  Add to this the fact that each match is constrained to eight turns and you’ve got a savagely mobile game, if you’ll pardon the pun.  The multiplayer server allows you to set up a game, give it a lofty title (thus far, my pitiful, withered porridge has added to the pantheon of great battles like Thermopylae, Rorke’s Drift and River Plate with ‘Firefight’, ‘Left Offworld’ and the miserable ‘Frontier Alliances’), and it will sit on the server until the requisite number of players has been met.  The glory of push notifications means you’ll be sent a message when the dropships have landed and troops are in position. 

Also, like all good asynchronous games, it supports dead drop messaging both globally and between team members, so players can leave eloquent appraisals between turns or denigrating notes that would leave Xbox Live teen gun-heads shamefaced and red-cheeked.  As expected, the community I’ve dealt with so far, dear reader, is a fine and upstanding one. 

In summary, Legion of the Damned should be on any discerning iOS strategy gamer’s machine. 

—

And there you have it, dear reader, another list you never asked for.  You can continue to believe iOS gaming is nothing but Canabalt and Angry Birds clones, weak tilt-based non-events, busy work disguised as quaint pixel gems…OR, you can sink your canines into the rich red meat supplied above.  Granted, these aren’t your 99c specials – Starbase Orion, Ravenmark and Legion of the Damned hover around the five dollar mark – but on any other platform, a pundit would be paying in excess of fifteen dollars for such software.

iOS gaming just keeps getting better for strategy games.  You’re now acquainted with the best of 2011 on the platform. 

Armoured Warfare 101: How Not To Assault A Position

Dear reader, allow me to sneak this lazy post in before bed.  Due to the gravity-defying excellence of my good friend and fifty percent of a very strong Pan Pacific Trade Mercantile, Simon Dimant, I am humbly and thankfully in possession of Steel Armor: Blaze of War.  Now, I do hope to elucidate upon this magnificent piece of Russian tank sim after I spend a few nights in the belly of either a T-62 or an M60A1, but for the time being and in the spirit of the season, behold my resplendent failure at commanding a pack of MBTs. 

Welcome to Susangerd, where I was supposed to engage the enemy as part of a border contact. 

So I shuffle my exhausted – as historically correct, one might assume – units under my control up to the line and contact is made.

Indeed, nothing like an armoured engagement in the evening.  In Cold War tanks.  Which means a luxurious ride in a steel beast, with crewman positions no bigger than a portable lavatory.

And great visibility, too.  The whine from the V-55 12-cylinder 4-stroke diesel powerplant actually does wonders to enhance the cosiness of the vehicle.  Like being in a big metal sleeping bag propped against an industrial metal compactor. 

Switching to the Commander, I open the hatch and have a further look when flares – enemy flares – ignite in the sky.  This is, one can safely deduct, a bad thing.  Especially for someone with as flimsy a grasp on the hotkeys at this point as the idiot writing this AAR.

I switch to the Gunner and try to make out any movement in the night optics, which proves to very helpful for the enemy to then do this:

And the other MBTs under my command?  Well, one is up ahead, disabled, with half the crew dead.  The other…?

Track blown to hell, crew retreated and I’m left with the romantic twinkle of flares, tracers and sabot rounds.  Much like Real Warfare 2: Northern Crusades, I am in love. 

And Now We Present: The Mayan End Time

Dear reader, 2011 is almost at an end.  I do hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and indulged in the glory of modernity and excess despite Emperor Palpatine Pope Benedict warning us of neglecting the true meaning of the holiday.  The meaning, for those not in the know, is one of joy.  Of celebration.  It means the Boxing Day Cricket Test is a day after the 25th, as well as the start of the illustrious and dangerous Sydney to Hobart yacht race. 

I just wanted to take this opportunity to say cheers for reading this piffle.  I’ve been a little pressed to devote time to blogging as the year’s curtain call is made, but will have a few days at the inlaws over the run-up to New Year that’ll – fingers and various other appendages crossed – allow for a slew of posts to be created.  Upon my return, dear reader, to where the rump usually rests, the upload button will be mashed and for those with utterly nothing but time to kill, it should tide you over for at least two coffees.  Lukewarm ones, so either easy to gulp down or walk away from.

I hope you’ve all had a grand year. 

To The Hunt Eternal

To a good man, a husband, a father and grandfather.  A go-getter, a man of many trades and talents.  The wryest sense of humour and the warmest of heart.  Best friend to my father-in-law, perennial comrade-in-arms through work and play.  There for the harvests, the projects, the good times and the bad. 

I will never forget that moment, the day Hisae and I signed our wedding papers, where you leaned over the table and quietly uttered with that trademark solemnity “If you muck about on her, I’ll shoot you.”  You expertly let me try to wring a polite smile from my stunned state before beaming, raising your shochu and wishing us the best. 

My dearth of apt wordage to celebrate your time does you no justice, though to stumble further would do you a disservice.  Simply, I am honoured to have known you, honoured to have my family meet you and will miss you dearly. 

To the hunt eternal. 

   Chitoshi Setoguchi

1942 – 2011

Not For Man, But Mankind–The D.M. Scheer Histories

Dear reader, you’ve oft seen the name “DM Scheer” mentioned in many of my posts, but what can you really tell me of the man…the REAL D.M. Scheer?  To what do we owe him, this enigma that history has written nearly out of record?  Behold; a man’s mark made illuminate.

Stoic Beginnings

Dieter Meinhard Scheer was born in Freising, Bavaria, during the Gründerzeit on November 29th, 1871 to artisan parents.  Noted as a sombre child, Scheer spent a good deal of his childhood as an outsider.  Refusing to partake in activities with peers due to what he stated as “a terrible disappointment in these slovenly, bumbling individuals”, Scheer preferred the company of aristocratic scholars returning from the Ludwig Maximilians Universität in Munich.  “The golden summers of Freising balanced by the amber radiance of intellectual discourse”, Scheer wrote in his diary.  His parents, Reinhardt Scheer – a pianist and instructor from Dachau – and Sieghilde Fiedler – a student of French Impressionism and who would later forge the way for Die Brücke at the Königliche Technische Hochschule in Dresden – were accommodating of their son’s comparatively strong-willed ways.  Sieghilde often stated to friends in the Friesing artist communities that Scheer “offered a paradox of tenderness through an iron grill”.  Scheer’s father tried on a number of occasions to foster an appreciation for music, though so cold was his son’s continued rebuffs that Reinhardt eventually relinquished all attempts. 

Scheer’s interest in the visual arts however was ignited with fervour matched only by his pursuit of academic prowess.  The Impressionism movement though was not to his taste, deeming it “nothing more than indiscriminate folly” and “a damning indictment of self-control being forsaken to legitimise unskilled fraudsters, charlatans and pigment-slathering Philistines.” Preferring the honest integrity and wit of the German Romantics, Scheer made efforts to meet the movement’s later proponents.  On his tenth birthday, Scheer travelled to Munich for a private audience with Carl Spitzweg, the noted Romanticist poet and artist.  Spitzweg commented after the conclusion of their meeting that Scheer “…possessed a mind as sharp as Toledo steel and wields it thusly.  What a man such as I had to offer would be nothing more than disposable triviality in comparison, despite age and experience.”

But Scheer did not always meet such favoured opinion.  Following the years of the Berlin Conference, which solidified Germany as a colonial power and leaving diplomatic ties with other nations withering on the vine, Scheer sought audience with the Reichstag and Bundesrat in Berlin as the so-called Scramble For Africa began with German colonial troops disembarking for the dark continent.  The young Freisinger made two separate speeches in the court, the first on the need for an overhaul of German armaments and to not rest on the victory laurels of neighbour subjugation; the second speech a hopeful plea for investment in what he coined a “field battleship” with a subtext of nation-building and reaching “the zenith of the arms technology race”, referencing Da Vinci and predating the author H.G. Wells by over a decade.  Perceived as “an ostentatious showcase of whimsical military spending, predicated on absolute fiction” by one conference attendee, and “circumstance where the term ‘brainchild’ should emphasise the latter in the compound, rather than the former.” from another. 

Despite derision by men of large sway within the Reichstag and Bundesrat, it was noted that as Scheer made preparations to return to Freising, a military officer by the name of Günther Burstyn made the young man’s acquaintance and requested to schedule an early lunch to discuss “matters technological”.  Scheer was not one to socialise for personal edification, but Burstyn appeared earnest in his representation and the two made their way to a restaurant on the Kleine Burgstraße. 

A Scheer Incline

Burstyn, a visiting Oberleutnant in the Austro-Hungarian army, was intrigued by Scheer’s speech on the notion of a ‘field battleship’.  Scheer explained the need for “self-ambulatory positions of battlefield power”, where “the static and frankly wasteful notion of the line, one prone to painful attrition, could be made obsolete in an instant”.  Burstyn admitted to experimenting with armoured cavalry chasses, to no great avail on account of vulnerabilities and supply burdens.  Scheer was adamant in utilising motorised means to diffuse the difficulties Burstyn had experienced, aiming to “make redundant all factors bar those not immediately replaceable or interchangeable.”  His diaries and technical manuals on the topic were succinctly surmised in one quote:

“Warfare must imperatively come to rely upon a strict two-layer concept of acceptable expendability atop rigorous indispensability.  The pitiable position of a horseman without a horse is plain to see.  Let us not push the point further than saying the days of ceremony on the field are numbered, in favour of industrious, superior logic.”

This particular meeting was the lynchpin in the young Scheer’s professional career, one that spanned a multitude of disciplines.  As colonialism ran its course and European empires, fuelled by nationalistic self-propelled expectation, began to rattle their steam-powered Victorian sabres, Scheer took advantage of governmental willingness to expand and build upon existing militaristic prowess.  Or, as Scheer stated, “ward against the rueful flimsiness of mere words with more than simply what the records read”.  Scheer was not an opportunist, but a idealist in favour of the status quo and dreamed of an equilibrium through innovation in all the sciences.  Often mistakenly described as a misanthrope, Scheer was known to harbour simply a higher standard to human achievement, though found his perennial stride towards innovation to be “a somewhat undeserved boon to civilisations not far along from [the discovery of] the wheel”.  This position led to great internal struggle, but one carefully kept close to Scheer’s chest. 

Scheer designed a number of blueprints for Burstyn, who manufactured a selection of prototypes to showcase for Emperor Franz Josef in 1906.  However, much like Scheer’s reception at the Reichstag and Bundesrat, Burstyn received only abject disgust from the ruler and his associates after an incident involving the Emperor’s horses being frightened by the sound of these curious constructions of track and armour.  Josef declared that “such a thing would never be of military value” and that both Burstyn and the designer were “mere engineering dilettantes, with practicality obviously the least of their concerns”. 

Though Scheer remained in correspondence with Burstyn, the two never met in person thereafter. 

An anecdote circulates that, two years prior to Burstyn unveiling the machines for Emperor Josef, Scheer had travelled to the 1904 Saint Louis World’s Fair in Missouri, America, to peruse cutting edge technology from around the globe.  It was here that he met an Australian engineer by the name of Lancelot De Mole.  De Mole and Scheer immediately found themselves kindred spirits, as De Mole had travelled to research American gasoline-powered tractors in an effort to create machines similar to those of Scheer’s.  After viewing De Mole’s notes and blueprints, assessing engineering viability and highlighting flaws within the Australian’s designs, Scheer insisted that De Mole take his work to any war office or military engineering institute that would accept such a patent. 

De Mole did heed Scheer’s advice, though consistent in determination, his persistence was met with rejection within the Commonwealth.  It was later, during the First World War, that Scheer wrote to De Mole, whereby the two men noted that their pre-war designs for this new warfare technology – the tank, as it came to be known – far outmatched those found lumbering slowly across the muddy battlefields of Europe. 

* * *

Dear reader, the tale of DM Scheer will continue.  Ahead lies the horrors of The Great War, discussions with noted men of mathematics and physics, the interwar years and Germany’s rise from the confused spiral of the Weimar solution.  History may have forgotten Scheer, but I hope, dear reader, that you won’t.  More to come.

Stunning Serbian Cyberpunk–Technotise: Edit & I

Dear reader, here’s a delicious one for you.  Serbian comic artist Aleksa Gajić turned his speculative fiction graphic novel Technotise into a terrific animated feature-length production and while you might not know anything about the intellectual property, allow me to give you a quick summation and encourage thrill-seekers to, well, seek this particular thrill.  It’s a good one.

Set in Belgrade in 2074, Edit Stefanović’ is a perpetual exam-flunking art student working part time in a scientific and social research institute as a carer to offset her dismal academic life. 

In an effort to gain traction in a seemingly frictionless existence, Edit decides to fast-track her education by installing a stolen military-grade subcutaneous microcircuit into herself – a classic piece of cyberpunk fiction – to effortlessly retain and recall information and thus breeze through her graduate program.  As expected, things get strange via an ongoing interaction at the institute.

Her charge is Abel Mustafov; an autistic maths genius whose own research on a grand unifying theory allegedly turned him into the near-catatonic husk Edit finds in her care.  TDR, the research institute, took Mustafov’s theorem and tried to calculate and interpret the variables through a multitude of super computers.  The systems would quantify the calculations, mysteriously and profoundly gain momentary self-awareness before irrevocably shutting down.  Edit witnesses the theorem after a meeting with Professor Dorijević, her boss, as he explains the origins of Mustafov’s discovery and situation.  With the ‘Abel Theory’ now unwittingly within Edit’s biomass, a chain-reaction is triggered and an initially subtle but rapidly accelerated change is brought about, resulting in the birth of a sentient manifestation of Edit’s subconscious – amongst other things.

I shan’t spoil the story, because it’s an earnest and well-told affair that should delight a fresh-faced viewer.  But just where does this one sit and what are its peers?

Artistically, Technotise feels like a glorious mash-up of Don Bluth’s high-reaching, slightly faulty sci-fi epic Titan AE and Kim Moon-saeng’s Wonderful Days (Sky Blue).  Crisp 2D artwork with impeccable lines and rich colour tones set beneath a tasteful myriad of vector and computer graphics, as well as the odd fractal injection.  Character design is obviously Euro and retains the full-bodied yet economic flair we’ve come to know and love from especially the Frémok publications.

The narrative feels very much like a post-Matrix tale, but there’s a tight thoughtfulness to the progression that eschews overreach or, despite offering inspiration, the sometimes overbearing dialogue found within Mamoru Oshii’s cyberpunk work.  Technotise is a bubbly affair in comparison, and while never feeling heavy-handed it does treat the audience to a snappy, intelligent script and likeable characters – which immediately puts it ahead of Otomo’s similarly-themed predecessor, Akira. 

Without putting too fine a point on it, I would say Technotise is one of the strongest cyberpunk efforts of the decade.  Ancillary technological elements are never overblown, effecting legitimacy with aplomb.  We never find ourselves lingering for the sake of smug, self-gratifying pleasure, even in relatively bombastic scenes.  Scenes in a futuristic Belgrade are subdued, no gratuity or requirement to blow out scenery with cheap visual over-developments.  At its heart, Technotise simply wants to tell a tale about life itself – which it does.  There are no post-apocalyptic climaxes, outside of personal ones.  There are no tank battles.  There is simply fine exposition.

In summary, dear reader, seek this one out.  Technotise: Edit & I is narratively supple, has a cracking pace and – most of all – these gems from unexpected places deserve far more attention than they get.  Oh, and the website has the soundtrack for free!  Come on.  Does it get better than that?

Side Projects – Squadron Of Shame Music Mix Poster

Dear reader, you could not – no, WILL NOT – find an easier grab in terms of cheap updates than this one.  Yes, a quick run-down of the creation of this little effort here.  Those with any sense will roll on.  Those with a lurid predilection for rubber-necking, this is as close to an overturned campervan on the highway as you’ll find right now, so stick about!

The terrific little gaming club known as The Squadron of Shame – a group of likeminded yet diverse individuals who specialise in the weird, the wonderful, the forgotten and the forlorn titles (though never shying away from the triple A) – now have two Squad Mix volumes.  These mixes, composed of tracks submitted by Squaddies, offer an opportunity to interpret, understand and explore the tastes of folk who make up this small but illustrious band. 

So, after finishing the first volume poster and hating it, I decided to be a little more stylistic with the second; limiting line work, utilising bold colours and inferring geometry.  I think it worked quite nicely.  Instead of overloading and overbearing the viewer with a hideous mash-up of jarring fonts and colour you’d find in some nightmarish mental health ward, I succumbed inadvertently to a form of Hollywood’s Orange and Teal curse.  Dear reader, I can assure you that I do feel more confident in justification than Michael Bay, given the nature of the piece.  Transformers this ain’t.

The theme was Dusk Metropolis; with a description bound by no restrictions bar the limit of imagination and inspiration.  I’m a fan of the metropolis in all forms, from the neon-buzzed to the rusting outskirts.  Many a fond memory consists of sitting with friends on a flight of stairs near my old house, overlooking the city vista as the sun sank.  The sparking of streetlight lattices through the suburbs, the distance hum of evening traffic and the sky peeling away to reveal a light-polluted night strata, but visible stars nonetheless.  It was always a philosophical time, alone or with friends.  But I digress with sentimental tears streaming down my shameful visage.

So, nothing says ‘metropolis’ more than structures.  The initial design was a street scene, perhaps a little inspired by Henry Flint or Dave Taylor’s respective depictions of Megacity One in the 2000AD comics.  It was okay, but I lost the pencil rough through leaving it atop the printer and my wife scooped it up with other paperwork and binned it!  Yes, a perfect, fabricated excuse for incomplete homework became a reality and I was left to start again.  For this mishap, I’m thankful.

Deciding to forsake excess detail, it became a task of inferring immensity.  Conveying an approximation of grandeur; of concrete stoicism.  Taking a cue from my favourite castle in the Western Hemisphere, the French crusader fortress of Krak des Chevaliers in Syria, whatever was penned needed elevation.  Perhaps in part, I owe inspiration to two of my other favourite cities, Hong Kong and mainland China’s terrific Chongqing.  These bustling cities don’t so much spread out as climb up; Hong Kong island has architecture draped over its inclines, Chongqing squats on the banks of the Chang Jiang whilst disappearing up into the mists of the surrounding hills.  These places benefit from their verticality because it enforces an intriguing topographical relationship with those who traverse the area. 

Perhaps this is getting far too airy-fairy, dear reader, so I’ll get back to basics.

Initially, there was going to be a much bigger push on populating the environment with structures; as though ‘metropolis’ required underlining.  However, I did not want to sacrifice the time of day and wistfulness I associate with dusk to a maw of visual busyness and decided to keep the structures as few in number as possible. 

Another inspiration came from perhaps the most seminal game I played as a young fellow.  Cryo Interactive’s Dune game from 1992.  If pushed, I would probably state that as the game to have the most powerful visual impact on me until…well…maybe Homeworld, so no mean feat.   Within Dune, the architectural renderings remain with me to this day and can be rightly seen as inspiration for the towers within the poster. 

So, dear reader, to reel in this meandering mess, the dusty loneliness of Cryo’s Arrakis coupled with its Art Deco-inspired monuments and structures, a deep orange sky with a hint of succumbing to nocturnal eventuality and the certainty of dissipating illumination captured only in the high contrast of a few bold blocks of window reflection…this is the conveyance I wanted to achieve.  The physical process, however…

…to cut a long and boring tale short, the initial linework was done, coloured in slightly lighter hues, printed, rescanned to degrade colour and detail, levels adjusted, linework removed in favour of blocking with flat colour and edges tidied, background filled and red tinge applied, thus Ron Perlman is your uncle.

Outside of that, my fascination with Impact as a no-nonsense font, one good for all seasons, continues.  Dodging the mess that was the last frankly grotesque effort, one font and one font only was applied and that is, dear reader, all she wrote.  The only thing I’m a little dissatisfied with is the justified spread on lowest text line.  What a shambles.  Should have worked harder on that.

Now, ask yourself:  Have you read a more vacuous and insubstantial piece of internet today?

No.  I didn’t think so.

Ordo domus Sanctæ Mariæ Theutonicorum Hierosolymitanorum

Or How I’ve Fallen For The Teutonic Brotherhood

That’s a ghastly long title right there, dear reader.  Even with a wonky little subheading.  Anyway, just a quick little waffle on the latest piece of gloriousness out of the Eastern Bloc.  Now, the USSR is more the great DM Scheer’s love, and it feels a near-travesty to cut the man’s academic grass.  The only place I feel like I have a slightly tangible foothold in the region is via the digital goodness this region ushers upon us.  Like their high art – the film, the books, the art and music – Russian gaming is utterly distinct.  More often than not, it is uncompromising.  Solemn.  Twists of wry humour thatched into the most downbeat of scenarios.  Their attention to detail is matched only by the Japanese and, in rare cases, by the rest of the world.  There is no forced romantic conveyance in Eastern Bloc gaming.  The earnestness of their products is second to none and I would be far less interested in video games at this juncture in geekdom if we didn’t have these strange and wonderful creations making their way westwards. 

Forgive the digression.  My heart, my wheezing, fizzing heart, is ever-present on my sleeve when on the topic of the Eastern Bloc and its plethora of tasty and interesting titles.  Where do the Teutonic Knights, those fearsome Christian fascists of the 13th Century fit in with all this?

Real Warfare 2: Northern Crusades, dear reader.  The latest strategy heavyweight from the 1C publishing house and Unicorn Studios, a follow-up to their previous Real Warfare/XIII titles, is one of the most most engrossing and punishing tactical combat games I’ve played in…hell…years. 

And I love it. 

Real Warfare 2: Northern Crusades tells the tale – as best as a strategy title can – of the Teutonic Order’s push into Prussia at the invitation of Konrad I of Masovia to cleanse the land of the unholy forces that stood as the last Pagan bastion in the region.  According to the usual suspects, these Northern Crusades, though little-known when set against the crusades in the Holy Land, ran for two centuries!  In any case, it’s a colder, darker and arguably more interesting historical scenario to fold a game around, which is why I love Eastern Bloc gaming so much – these terrific little niches they excel at devoting entire projects to. 

But this is not a review, just a quick run-down of what sets this apart from what some might see as a Total War clone. 

Dear reader, what sets Real Warfare 2 apart from contemporary grand scale real-time tactical hijinx is the brain-bustingly acute attention to detail in the combat parameters.  Simply put, this ain’t your bog-standard “fling ten thousand men at enemy, combat ensues, you win/lose” title.  Each regiment of troops in Real Warfare 2 is governed by fifteen individual facets.  Things like flank protection, self-motivation, terrain, a highly sophisticated morale system that puts most other games to red-cheeked shame, fatigue, armour damage, command proximity and the list goes on. 

I’m a mild Total War fan.  In fact, it would have been the original Shogun: Total War that lit the fires of interest in historical gaming – not solely in the strategy department, admittedly.  However, as much as I like where Creative Assembly took the Shogun sequel this year, I don’t think I can go back to the comparatively arcade-style combat after spending the seven or so hours thus far with Real Warfare 2.  There’s something incredibly meaty that sidesteps the abstracted intangibility of commanding an army that genuinely feels perhaps not “alive”, but human.  Even in the most crushing of defeats, there’s a thrill to be had in that final rallying of troops.  A last hurrah by a group of irregulars and their fresh-faced mounted commander, a brigand army of a thousand men marching on the rocky Moravian hillock.  A regiment of irregular bowmen begin to break at the sheer sight of their impending demise and begin to take flight, only to have their commander rally them and steel their countenance. 

What’s more, it’s a devilish AI that we are dealing with, dear reader.  A damn devilish one.  Reserve troops lay hidden and are manoeuvred deftly.  Unlike many games of its ilk, an army on the march will not always simply advance on a position.  They will take advantage of the lay of the land with expert understanding.  They will bide their time, almost goading a human into making the first move – and this is only in field combat.  Sieges are another thing entirely. 

A brutal game, dear reader.  Brutal and fearlessly holding no hands.  The overworld map – one you traverse in order to complete the main campaign; seek out side quests; indulge in trade, tax and commerce; hire, upgrade and train greater numbers of troops etc. etc. – is a diabolically dangerous place.  Brigand armies gallop over hill and dale, enemy forces march on border fortresses, raiding parties cause havoc in hamlets.  Hiding in Teutonic outposts and allied castles will only get a Komtur so far.  It is a careful balance of trade and picking the right battles in the early game that will make for a less-than-caustic first impression.  I have, over the time I’ve spent in the game, restarted twice.  And yet, despite a difficulty evoking a flanged mace to the cheek, what doesn’t kill me makes me all the more eager.

It must be said that, prior to this title, I’d shared the great DM Scheer’s nonchalance and apathy towards the medieval period – preferring the bookending eras.  Actually, the clarification of “European” medieval history must be made on my part, as I’m a sucker for the Japanese middle-ages based solely on the elaborate armour designs.  So, with the odd spike coming via things like Ridley Scott’s Kingdom of Heaven (Director’s Cut or bust, I’ll have you know!), this has been a really refreshing and eye-opening piece of entertainment, to the point of making me seek out any other complimentary material that deals with such a violent and miserable slice of relatively unknown history. 

Ah, what the hell.  Let us finish on another screenshot. 

Consider me a Real Warfare franchise fan henceforth.

Slightly Touched – iOS Goodness Continues

Dear reader, I have admitted my handbrake turn from cynic to celebrant prior on the topic of iOS gaming.  From a grouchy snob to gleeful pundit, there has been much to discover on the platform.  Admittedly, there’s a lot of garbage, but by golly, there’s a growing amount of good stuff nowadays, too.  So, let us not waste any more time and help you shuck bucks from that hideously overweight purse of yours. 

Steambirds: Survival

No no, don’t pop that wallet clasp just yet.  Halfbrick and Spryfox’s turn-based fighter game is, like the birds, free.  The great DM Scheer and I used to frivolously fritter away afternoons and evenings hot-seating Achtung! Spitfire, the great grandfather of Steambirds: Survival.  As with Achtung! Spitfire, players thrum about the map from a bird-eye perspective, directing their aircraft via a cursor that takes into account speed and inertia.  Tight turns make for short distances travelled, with longer arcs and straight coursing allowing for larger gains to be made.  It is far less complex than this bumbling description implies, and thus, simplicity is Steambirds’ strength.  Plot course, end turn.  Plot course, make for enemy, end turn.  Use item, plot course, end turn, automatically engage enemy.

Survival is the central conceit, with waves of enemy fighters and bombers incrementally pouring onto the map over the various levels.  New aircraft can be bought via coppers earned in the campaign or, in the spirit of the new Freemium model (no longer pay to win), bust out a little real-world currency to fast-track unlocks. 

The aesthetic feels deliciously cribbed from a flyboy’s clubhouse in a Boy’s Own Annual, replete with wood panelled menus and a muted colour scheme evoking those glorious old stress-skinned monoplanes of World War Two.  In-game, cute sprites soar over a parallax scrolling map, trading chunky machine-gun fire and other assorted weaponry picked up in the wake of a decimated foe.  Steambirds: Survival is a quick and enjoyable slice of action-strategy that provides easily digestible fun.  Thumbs up.

Alien Menace

Based on a French card game of the same name, Alien Menace is the perfect game for a single sitting.  In an alien-infested offworld installation. taking cues more from Doom than the Alien films, a player must trudge through various rooms in order to flush out and take down the invading foe.  Featuring a streamlined battle system, players utilise both luck and strategy to overcome the threat and destroy the portal in the final level.  The game can be completed in under twenty minutes, but the replay value lies in the shuffling of locations and cards dealt with each session.

There’s nothing particularly outstanding or deep about Alien Menace, but the mix of card-based combat with a virtual coin toss-driven luck mechanic seem to keep the gameplay travelling at a brisk pace.  Outside of the various weapon cards, there are items and order cards that allow for buffs, debuffs and hand augments – such as causing enemies to lose cards from their hand or gaining some for yours.  Outside of the gameplay, the artwork is a tasty mix of stock post-Aliens-esque facility renderings within a well-conceived aesthetic.  Proffering an early Nineties feel evocative of 2000AD, Alien Menace is a cheap, fun and straightforward card game with nary a skerrick of overreach. 

Temple of the Spider God

Now here’s something interesting, dear reader.  Remember the names ‘Steve Jackson’ and ‘Ian Livingstone?  Yes, the fellows who ushered upon the geeky bookworm those eponymous Fighting Fantasy novels, with classics like The Warlock of Firetop Mountain and my personal favourite, Black Vein Prophecy.  They transmogrified Warlock onto DS, but that’s essentially all she wrote for the series.  It was most pleasing to see little Melbournian outfit Tin Man Games revive the idea of an interactive novel on iOS, and I dipped my toes into the subset with their most recent and accomplished title, Temple of the Spider God. 

Boiled down, the experience is a Choose Your Own Adventure novel with dice combat and an inventory system.  It’s slick and streamlined, with inventory management a breeze and the enemy encounters a painless affair.  Upon coming to a fight, it’s a simple case of shaking the iOS device to roll virtual dice in either an offensive, defensive or fitness check capacity.  Encounters take no longer than a minute or two, and are remarkably fun in such an abstracted format. 

The presentation is simple and elegant.  As this is, at heart, an ebook, the text is large and comfortable to read with non-intrusive menus, overlays and inventory a tap away. 

Temple of the Spider God’s narrative is not particularly complex, but akin to any good storyline of its brethren past, the choices lead to an incredibly varied experience.  Stories crisscross and intertwine, death or glory around each corner.  Much like the genre forebears, Temple of the Spider God permeates a strange intrepid vicariousness and sense of spirited exploration simply by keeping the pre-encounter scenarios clipped and compact.  Chapters rarely drag; a scene is painted and shortly thereafter, the reader/player arrives at a crossroads that will dictate entire story arcs.  It’s thrilling stuff, and I must iterate my general disdain for fantasy.

The fantasy, however, within Temple of the Spider God is one mimicking Spanish Conquistador expeditions into the steamy jungles and fetid swamps of the New World, which does do wonders for those beleaguered by the tired old tropes of fantasy.  It’s a pulpy read and certainly no great work of fiction, but if gamers are familiar with the Fighting Fantasy series, then there’s a good chance they’ll get a hefty kick out of Temple of the Spider God.

Squids

Squids is one hell of a charming little physics-based strategy title.  There appears to be a shared cultural aesthetic kernel that French developers have, at least when you set Squids against Michel Ancel of Rayman fame.  A bubbly and bright clutch of characters within a breathtaking – yes, an iOS title can offer such a physiological response – undersea world.  Where to start, where to start…

The player controls a small squad of cephalopod cuties and battle all manner of lurking beasts beneath the waves.  It sounds simple, and perhaps that’s one the highlights; Squids’ conceit is flinging calamari about like rubber bands.  Using a simple interface, players stretch their units in a showcase of elastic energy to fire them at or within range of their opponents.  Making contact with an enemy pushes them in the appropriate direction, whereby they might be shunted off the edge of a map or into environmental dangers like urchins, amongst other things.  Dear reader, this is sealife billiards. 

There’s not much more to it than that, but travelling on the strengths of its art design and some inventive level design involving current streams etc., Squids is just plain old fun and entirely disarming.  Oh, and there’s a stack of unit customisation, too! 

As an addendum, I have seen some reviews be a little scathing on the In-App Purchase options with Squids.  There is absolutely no reason to purchase in-game currency in this game, so I wonder how much of the title the reviewers played to come to that conclusion.  So, fear not and nab.

Bike Baron

Here’s a nice little collaboration between Mountain Sheep and Qwiboo.  I do love Mountain Sheep very much, those plucky Finns who worked on one of my favourite PSP titles from a few years ago in Superhind.  Well, they’ve firmly implanted themselves as iOS heavies and Bike Baron is certainly a showcase of that.  Portable Joe Danger, anyone?

Many might mistake Bike Baron as riffing on the Trials HD mechanic – heavy physics-based terrain traversal – though the Baron and his passenger cat ride firmly around the Joe Danger encampment of item collecting and and playing it fast and loose against the clock. 

There’s a heavy emphasis on physics, but Bike Baron is far from the squirrelly perfection required in Trials HD.  Levels have various objectives, including coin collection, tricks to complete and the ever present ticking of the clock.  Despite having a few quirks here and there – bikes should not explode if the Baron touches his helmet on an overhead beam – Bike Baron is a clean and efficient experience on iOS.  Throttling a motorcycle over incredibly inconvenient terrain is well-represented in gaming, but there’s no reason Bike Baron cannot find its place in this two-stroke pantheon.

Worth the price of admission alone is the track editor – a simply marvellous and, most importantly, logical level construction kit where players can build to their hearts content, then upload to a server for others to try out.  Admittedly, the user-created content has no in-app browser, forcing players to go to the Bike Baron website to scroll for maps they’re interested in.  Once selected, a code is supplied and players input that into Bike Baron, upon which the level is downloaded.  Clunky and well behind the times, but a solution nonetheless.  Fingers crossed for a proper system to be included in a future update.

Elder Sign: Omens

Here’s one for the boardgame buffs.  A spin-off from the Arkham Horror franchise, a Twenties era Lovecraftian world of mystery and the macabre, Elder Sign: Omen is a single player team-centric adventure into the heart of a unnerving museum to keep the Great Old One Azathoth from rising and consuming all. 

The game can be played solo or via a hotseat method for up to four players.  A team of four investigators, selected on merit of their individual statistics and abilities, are chosen from a pool of sixteen varied characters.  Within the game itself, turns are taken as each character attempts a particular mission within an area of the museum. 

The way missions are attempted is through the use of glyphs.  These glyphs, conjured randomly in place of the boardgame’s dice mechanic, are matched against the horrors within the mission.  One particular section of a mission may require two Lore glyphs to pass, then require a Peril and two Terror glyphs upon the next encounter.  The strategy comes in via the investigator’s abilities.  One character-specific ability might be a re-conjuring of the entire glyph roll-out or the ability to convert one glyph type to another.  In overcoming particular horrors, the investigator is gifted with further ability cards that can be added to their ability stack.  However, if they lose an encounter, they lose stamina, health, sanity and, direly, may incur a Doom count. 

Sending Azathoth back to the depths can only be achieved via collecting Elder Signs, of which there are fourteen spread out over the various missions.  The Doom Track is a twelve-piece progression towards the end of the world at the hands of the Great Old One and must be avoided at all costs.  If, dear reader, one is not familiar with the boardgame, this might sound a little overwhelming or confusing.  Luckily, Elder Sign: Omens ships with a terrific set of video tutorials and they’re smashingly informative.  I certainly was no closer to winning a game, but understanding why is one step towards crafting the strategies between the metaphoric dice rolls. 

I would heartily recommend Elder Sign: Omens to anyone looking for that quick fix of boardgame on the go.  It certainly isn’t a Reiner Knizia-level title, but I personally find it a gorgeous gem.  On iPad, too, if that floats your boat. 

BANG! The Spaghetti-Western Online Game

Another card game, another gem.  This relatively simple class-based title is a quick and snappy affair with a focus on the recently patched-in online and cross-platform multiplayer.  Players take the role of either a Sheriff, Deputy, Outlaw or Renegade and battle it out with winning conditions based on the heirarchy of opponents.  A Sheriff and a Deputy must work together to defeat Outlaws, and as imagined, neither must kill each other.  Outlaws aim for the lawmen, though they can win the game by default if another player kills the Sheriff.  The Renegade may take down everyone else before assassinating the Sheriff.  If the Sheriff wins, the Deputies also win.

The twist in BANG! is that, at the start of the game, every player knows who the Sheriff is – with all other roles a secret.  This makes for very interesting late-game encounters, where Outlaws can direct their attacks onto players bar the Sheriff, who maybe be tricked into thinking the Outlaws are Deputies and aid in killing their underlings.  Each player other than the Sheriff should attempt to disguise their role, but at the same time, be able to telegraph via action towards their cohorts in a bid to make a conjoined play. 

Each player is given an initial hand of five cards, with a total of two cards drawn from the shared central stack upon each new turn.  Basic cards revolve around attacking neighbouring opponents, dodging shots, drinking beer to regain depleted health – of which a player has five segments – and an assortment of active and passive cards, such as Duel cards (challenge between two players, first to not be able to produce an attack card loses), and card actions that affect every player. 

Blue cards are permanent in their effect unless stolen or negated by other players.  Players can place opponents in jail and until that opponent can counter the effect with a specific type of card, they remain unable to attack.  Dynamite triggers a hot potato effect, where players must successfully draw a card that does not detonate the effect and thus pass it onto the next player.  There are also a variety of special cards dealing in weaponry that allow for greater range and repeated attacks. 

The final card type are Green.  These are semi-permanent cards, played but not activated until the end of the turn.  Players can effect attacks on opponents that do not count as regular attacks, which can make for decisive jabs once a player has finished his phase.  Others include card pick-ups and health regeneration.

I’m quite fond of BANG!, though I’d like it even more if it offered asynchronous multiplayer.  However, as the gameplay focuses on honing instinct and intuition over the course of the match, real time battling is the only way to go.  A classy experience from top to bottom. 

Galaxy Pirate Adventure

From a little studio out of Hong Kong comes the rambunctiously-titled Galaxy Pirate Adventure.  Certainly one of the prettiest iOS titles on the market, GPA is a sci-fi starship combat game and trader-lite.  Starting out with a measly tin can and gradually working towards owning a battleship with AI-controlled fleetmates, the closest living relative to GPA is Infinite Space on the DS.  At the core, gamers can expect a lot of ship customisation, a fairly thin story and lots of space combat.

However, this isn’t a space dogfighter, dear reader.  Players operate the offensive and defensive systems on their vessel, altering the targets and distance of the encounter.  It sounds simple, and in the early game, it certainly feels a little grindy.  However, as enemies become more numerous and better ships and onboard systems become available, the stakes in battle ramp up as you take missions of greater reward and ever-increasing danger.  Ship management is quite intricate, as each facet of a ship’s components requires a crew member.  It might seem unnecessary and verge on pointlessness, but if you’re a spaceship junkie, the thought of putting fellows into the gun pits aboard your vessel is a slice of ancillary deliciousness. 

The main gripe of GPA is simply that it’s a bit of a one-trick pony outside of the customisation.  It is simply an optimisation equation to get the best possible bang for offensive and defensive buck when engaging an enemy.  That said, dear reader, if you once had a torrid love affair with games like Carnage Heart or Armored Core: Formula Front, then you know that the meat and potatoes of this buffet lie within the hangar and the two hundred-odd items and weaponry available for procurement. 

Junk Jack

I, for some reason, own Minecraft.  And, dear reader, unlike the many who adore it, just find it hellishly boring.  I find the crafting aspect utterly tedious and the self-directed ‘gameplay’ nothing more than playing Legos when I really am yearning for Technic.  Which is completely petulant on my behalf, because seeing folks build entire processor logic gates out of nothing but napalm and switches, or scale models of the Starship Enterprise, is mind-blowing.  It is, perhaps, the most honest humanistic display of virtualising our innate need to create.  So I had to press further and try a little harder.  And in walks Junk Jack.

This is, ostensibly, a 2D Minecraft.  From the blocky swine to the blocky trees, all the components are there.  Scavenge and mine the rawest of raw, combine in your crafting menu and voila, you’ve created an axe or a hoe.  Or a bamboo palisade.  Or papyrus.  Or a book.  Or a shelf for the book.  Or a house.  Or an elevator.  While by its very limited sprite-based engine gamers won’t find themselves crafting scale models of St. Paul’s Basilica, there’s perhaps more room for appreciation of one’s achievements in depth.  I like viewing my entire labyrinthian network of tunnels, seam after seam of struck ore and coal – something I never could in Minecraft. 

There’s a delightful day-night cycle, with the usual suspects of monsters appearing in the darkness and emphasising the need to build appropriate lodgings. Junk Jack is a relatively casual title with a deep crafting tree and one that certainly rewards those looking to scratch a forager’s itch. 

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That’ll do for the moment, dear reader, but I’ve got another iOS title that deserves a review all of its own, so look out for that one. 

Needless to say, parenthood makes for strange and enlightening gaming bedfellows – which is quite literally the case, as most iOS gaming gets done as I lie in bed.  Rewind to a year and a half ago and you would have received nothing but a sneer and a scornful look at the mere mentioning of an iPhone game.  The tables, how they do turn. 

Leaving Prints – An Enjoyable Art Experience for Kids

Dear reader, when I’m not geeking or slothing out, I’m at work teaching English and – most excitingly – art to excitable young kindy kids.  Not a bad job at all, and certainly the most rewarding part of teaching various forms of scribble and fostering creativity in these young lads and lasses is seeing them overcome challenges and utilising their bubbling imagination.  So, today, due to scheduling, it needed to be a quick and easy project that could be completed in under an hour.  And thus, it was time to bust out the 朱肉 stamp pad and get cracking.

Throwing caution into the wind, I went through my many pen boxes to collect every black water-based outliner I could find, most within the 0.1 – 0.2 nib gauge.  Usually a fairly protective fellow about my pens and their delicate nibs, I figured you simply cannot take your pen collection once you leave this mortal coil and readied them for use.

The stamp pad itself – the Japanese Shuniku – used an oil-based ink, but a water-based pad would have done just as well, although I probably would stress using a light coloured ink in order for kids to make easily distinguishable linework upon their fingerprint.

It’s a swimmingly easy project for young ESL students to grasp, especially as examples can be done in real-time with little fuss.  Makes a pleasant change from the Papier-mâché projects we’ve worked on in the past.  Once I’d handed out the cartridge paper (any thick gauge or water colour-friendly paper would do, though the smoother the grade, the better) and the stamp pads were divided between the small groups, it was go time.  To streamline the process, the young ‘uns were directed to make three fingerprints, then to start adding their own ideas with the pens provided.  The second round would up the ante a little by using scrap pieces of paper to halve the prints.  By this, students would place black card across the bottom half of their paper, ink their finger, then press down over the edge of the black card to produce a clean halved print.  We experimented then with perception…creating fingerprint character sitting in cars, their lower halves ‘hidden’ as they sat in freshly drawn vehicles.

Once the kids got a feel for the many ways they could use different parts of their fingers/pads and use multiple prints within the same ‘character’, their creative output accelerated with a discernable sustainment of quality in terms of imagination.  It was one of the most rewarding art sessions we’ve had a while.  A real highlight. 

This was contrasted with last week’s box-and-marble painting project, where it seemed Jackson Pollock was alive and well with students creating very vibrant colour streak artwork via rolling paint-covered marbles around in a tray across construction paper.  To go from relatively uncontrolled expression to immensely fine detail is a nice contrast.  It’s thrilling to see young folk not just taking part in artistic activities, but gaining so much unbridled joy from doing so.

I shall leave it there, dear reader.  Just felt like the ever-growing artistic prowess of my students needed a small, bloggy celebration.