In fact, patch 3.13 actually managed to fit in buffs to several champions including Heimerdinger and Sivir. Criminally underplayed, these two both had the distinction of being some of the Fields of Justices’ least liked characters–spending the entirety of season 3 gathering dust. Over the past few weeks, however, both of them received significant kit changes. Sivir even got a visual rework along with the changes, finally putting an end to her ridiculous moonwalking. (more…)
Analyze This: Heimerdinger and Sivir’s reworks
Hearthstone took the gaming world by surprise.
When it was first announced at PAX East this year, people were disappointed Blizzard’s big announcement was just a card game. Fast forward to this Fall, however, and it’s the only thing gamers are talking about. Hearthstone quickly became one of the most popular games on the internet and a robust community sprouted up overnight. And, perhaps in the most surprising news, Razer even signed a professional Hearthstone player this October.
From xPeke to Faker, everyone’s eyes were on the mid lane during this year’s League of Legends World Championships. Assassins stole the show with their high mobility and absurd damage. Ahri, Zed, Fizz, and Kassadin were heavily contested each game by being banned or picked nearly every time. Their popularity in the competitive scene quickly carried over to solo queue as well. Players soon learned that you either ban out champions like Kassadin or you lose–much like Cloud 9 did in the quarterfinals to Fnatic. (more…)
This isn’t the article I wanted to write about Tomb Raider. In fact, I had an article that was a lot more poetic; there were lines about agency, the environment becoming a character, and how Tomb Raider truly was a next gen title that was my game of the year.
Instead this is an article about Lara Croft being choked to death.
There’s a scene fairly early on in the game where our young, intrepid heroine is being stalked through the forest. Her innocence is shattered; her friends are being brutally shot around her, their screams echoing in the distance as they’re murdered. She crouches against some old ruins at one point, finding a brief reprieve from the horrors she’s witnessing unfold. Suddenly a man surprises her, grabbing her and lifting her up by her throat. His hand clamps over her throat and he begins to choke the life out of her. She starts struggling. She has seconds to live.
If you don’t hit the right series of buttons, she’s choked to death in front of you. Her body goes limp in his hands, her face goes blank, and he laughs the cruelest of laughs.
My overall conflicted experience with Final Fantasy XIV still didn’t stop my jaw from dropping the first time I saw a dust storm settle over the sky of Ul’dah at night.
But for better or worse, Ul’dah and its dust storms are something that many gamers will never see. Unfortunately, not many saw its distant cousin Bastok either. The roads to the cities of Bastok and Ul’dah, to the games of Final Fantasy XI and XIV, are one and the same. They’re all roads less traveled in a world covered by interstate. Still, I like to believe that the scenic route is worth taking time to time–if you aren’t afraid of getting lost.
And I mean really lost–nearly everything in both games works differently from what you would think, creating what can be at times a frustrating of experience. However, if you know Final Fantasy’s history as an MMORPG, this may not be a new revelation.
Civilization V is coming out soon and I feel like I’m ten years old again on Christmas Eve; unabashedly, I brimming with excitement. For me, the series represents the very foundation of gaming. It was also one of the staple titles of my early youth, something that grew up as I did–from my years in middle school to my years at college, some version of Civilization was on my PC and being played. Watching Civilization evolve with each entry has been a great experience and I’m excited to see what Jon Schafer has done with time around.
Despite my enthusiasm, though, I’m a little disappointed right now. I just finished preordering Civilization V and I found myself paying extra for an exclusive civilization and its leader. I had a brief internal monologue in which I told myself lunch at Starbucks was out for this weekend to make up the cost and then added the deluxe edition to my cart against my better judgment. I’m not completely sure who to be mad at, myself or Firaxis or Nebuchadnezzar II and his ridiculous surname, but I’m still mad. And a little embarrassed.
In fact, this leader’s inclusion for an extra sum, repackaged with a digital soundtrack as a special edition, seemed to speak to a bigger problem in the videogame industry: the cash cow syndrome.
Gaming is about the experience. Mashing buttons and keys is how I spent the nineties–I stomped on Goombas, explored dungeons in Hyrule, and bunnyhopped in Quake. When playing Doom in my early years, I was terrified of the demons that the gates of Hell unleashed. And I’ll never forget the first time I saw the rain streaked sky in Donkey Kong Country’s second level, swinging vine to vine.
I had a blast with gaming then and I have a blast with gaming now. My experiences have been memorable and positive–most of the time, at least.
As titles both released in 2010, it stands within reason that Final Fantasy XIII and Heavy Rain should have a lot more on the classics of yesteryear. They should have evolved significantly in the overall quality of experience–from gameplay to graphics, each title has had more than enough time to improve itself. But for some reason, I feel more immersed playing Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest than I do when I play as Ethan Mars.
Video games are art.
It’s boring, it’s been said, and it’s been argued against. But it’s true. Game developers are this generation’s unnamed Ansel Adams and Andy Warhols. The video games they work to create are their own unique worlds imagined and they bring to life these visions with precise direction and immense effort. By any definition, the entire process is an art form; writers weave a story out of nothing, artists turn barren worlds into illustrated societies, and coders bring it all to life in an interactive formation.
The entire process is undeniably art–almost magically so.
I thought the pigeons in Grand Theft Auto IV were pointless, but I found them all anyway. I spent hours getting Tonberry as a Guardian Force in Final Fantasy VIII although he was underpowered as a summon. I even saved Cybil in Silent Hill through some extra legwork.
I try to play video games with an open mind and to completion. I avoid reading previews or reviews before I dive into the latest video game release as well. I strive to complete side quests, embrace even the most fruitless of storylines, and play my heart out until the end credits roll. I save the complaints for later written analyses and prefer to get lost in the moment, attempting to remain objective until I can see the sum of the whole.
Every once in a while, however, a video game and I don’t start off amicably–and it takes a lot to get us back on track.
My hands hurt from holding my mouse so tightly and my heart’s pounding. In a few seconds, I will be wiped out by several siege tanks, but I don’t know this yet and what I don’t know is killing me. It’s a mirror match for 1v1 ladder play in StarCraft 2. I just placed platinum in the previous game and although I should be pleased, all I’m doing is panicking instead. Whoever said the most stressful part of SC2 multiplayer were the initial five placement matches hasn’t played afterwards–or at least hasn’t played them as someone as competitive as me.
The enemy appears as I’m debating taking a third expansion to support my burgeoning army. As I see him coming down the map, my mind stops and my stomach sinks. Seconds become minutes as I realize I am about to lose.