Since diving back into City of Heroes/Villains via the Homecoming server, I’ve found that the game mostly holds up. The user interface and sound design have aged well, but the gameplay feels slow-paced. However, as always, I find the most fun in CoH’s character creator. There are a dizzying amount of options and costume pieces, meaning you can really let your imagination run wild.
So I thought I’d share three characters I created this weekend. Note that they’re all “Rogue” characters and have yet to become either Hero or Villain.
“Greenus”
“Greenus” is a gothic dark energy-wielding character inspired by Tim Burton and old renditions of the Joker.
“Infernus”
One of my stronger character creations and certainly the one that took the longest. I spent many hours deliberating over one costume piece versus another.
He’s a Fiery Mastermind who wields a flame whip and summons hellish beasties to do his bidding.
“Insectus”
I hit the “randomize costume” button and got a monstrous ninja-looking girl with a face ventilator. I dug her Mortal Kombat vibes so I polished/honed the costume and got this. She’s a “Stalker” (stealth) character who uses a staff and ninjitsu to defeat her foes.
Have you toyed around with CoH’s character creator at all? If so, feel free to share your creations in the comments!
With NCSoft recently issuing a license to the Homecoming private server, I’ve been sinking my teeth into all things City of Heroes/Villains. And I stumbled across Villains’ menu theme, which instantly remined me of its greatness.
The dramatic strings, devilish brass, and glitching synths all cascade to create a shifting, pulsing, malignant main theme that sounds convincingly villainous. The track doesn’t seem to have a name, but I think “The Heart of Evil” would be apt.
Over the last couple weeks, I’ve been sampling different character classes in Lord of the Rings Online. I’m always of the mind that I should try each class, or most, before committing to one. After all, if you’re going to invest hundreds of hours into a megalithic MMORPG, why not ensure those hours are invested wisely?
Here are the contenders so far:
Mariner
This is LOTRO’s latest class and one that resonates with me. It’s a hybridization of Champion and Burglar — a sea-faring swashbuckler who dual-wields swords and daggers. There are also some thrown pot/bottle abilities in there for added ulility and flavour.
Mariner is fun enough to play, and I enjoy the nautical theme versus other, more traditional melee classes. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll ultimately be hacking and slashing 90% of the time. Hell, 90% of my abilities seem to involve sword poking.
So Mariner, while certainly more interesting than other melee classes, still seems like just a melee class.
Minstrel
I always avoided Minstrel because of its musical-bard theme. The idea of entering battle with a musical instrument is just odd when your peers all have swords and staves at the ready.
But while quirky in principle, the class is undeniably fun to play. The instrument attacks act as ranged casts, but you can also melee attack at close range. So it plays like a hybrid class of sorts.
My Minstrel’s damage and survivability seem solid so far. And the prospect of getting to heal in group content is nice. So I’ll probably be sticking with the Minstrel for now.
Lord of the Rings Online released a new starting zone (Swanfleet) with its “Before the Shadow” expansion back in 2022. And players were widely pleased, noting Swanfleet’s visuals, soundtrack, and immersion as highlights. But now that some time has passed, its reception has soured — and understandably so.
Swanfleet, with its marshland motif and pastel palette, is certainly a joy to behold. Nearly any screenshot of the zone will capture its objective beauty (I included one with this post!). But when you pivot from aesthetics and start digging into the zone’s design, that’s where things fall apart.
Put simply, Swanfleet isn’t dense enough. There’s lots of empty space between questgivers, packs of enemies, and quest items, which makes navigating the zone a tedious bore. Worse yet, the zone’s mountainous verticality — once championed as a unique strength — necessitates scaling awkward cliffs and crags. Even the dense, pictureque ground foliage becomes a literal snag when your character gets invariably stuck on some unseen rock or tree branch.
As a newer LOTRO player, I didn’t understand how underwhelming Swanfleet was until I replayed the vanilla starting content with a different character. Archet, which acts as your first quest hub as a Man or Hobbit, excels at onboarding players. It’s scenic, focused, and best of all, dense. By keeping its content structured and novel, it engages players and dulls the tedium of lower-level gameplay. You’re constantly being introduced to new enemies and environments. Here’s a breakdown:
Go kill some wolves and get some herbs in the nearby meadow
Oh no — you’ve uncovered a sinister bandit plot to overthrow the town!
Go enlist the help of some nearby allies, and infiltrate a bandit encampment
Spiders! Spiders are infesting this tunnel and town cellar!
Final instance mission: Defend the town of Archet from a bandit attack
Compare that to Mossward (Swanfleet’s first quest hub):
Go click on some villagers to heal them
Investigate this recent Uruk attack by inspecting the bodies (more clicking)
Go collect some wood and meat around the town outskirts (boring)
Side quests: Deliver food to villagers, run to the river and back for a dare, and kill more wildlife (boring)
The Uruk investigation now leads you to other towns whose people have more mundane tasks for you (really boring)
As you can see, Mossward’s opening quest structure is much less interesting than Archet’s. And there’s nowhere near the same amount of diversity in environments or foes. Worse yet, Mossward sends you running all across the map, whereas Archet keeps your questing contained and focused in a smaller area.
It’s sad that LOTRO’s first new starter zone in decades is somehow worse than its vanilla counterpart. But it’s likely a reflection of the game’s atrophying development team and resources.
Also, people praise Swanfleet’s music, but it has some of the most ear-grating town themes I’ve ever heard in a video game:
I don’t want to come across as a hater. Swanfleet has its strenghts. But given the amount of undue praise it seems to receive, I had to push back some.
After binging Starfield, I was in the mood for more RPG — but of the massively variety. World of Warcraft is usually my go-to, but the Dragonflight expansion was decidedly mid-tier. So I sought out something else.
I landed on Lord of the Rings Online (LOTRO): WoW’s more clumsy and awkward cousin. Y’know, the Tolkein MMORPG with a prominent white anglo-saxon protestant influence and severely aged engine (it doesn’t even scale to modern monitor resolutions).
It turns out LOTRO released a new expansion since I last played, so I jumped on that, despite never progressing past level 20 or so. The new class, “Mariner,” a sea-faring swashbuckler, is totally up my alley. Last I played, the dual-wielding Burglar class was my favorite. And the Mariner is basically that minus stealth and plus some quirky seaman-inspired abilities like throwing bottles/pots and channeling the seas.
Despite my Mariner enthusiasm, though, I still haven’t decided on a main character. It’s a toss-up between my bald, aged River Hobbit and more traditional bearded “Man” characters. Very WASPy indeed.
Here’s another New Year’s Resolution: No, not more physical activity — more physical media!
I love physical media and always have. Perhaps it’s because I grew up with VHS, DVD, and video game cartridges and discs. I’m accustomed to having my favourite digital experiences contained within physical products. I love pouring over the box and liner details. And at $10-20 max, the price is right for a product that often holds its value as a collectible, or can be resold later for more.
As a result, you can see why I’m still irked by streaming and digital download technologies in 2024. The content ownership rights pale in comparsion to physical media. If these companies — Netflix, Steam, Apple — decide to revoke your ownership of the movies, music, and games you’ve purchased, you’re SOL. So to me, the issue always echoes the modern sentiment, “you’ll own nothing and be happy.”
Unfortunately, gaming — specifically PC gaming, my platform of choice — has been moving towards digital-only distribution for some time. PC games rarely get physical releases anymore, and current-gen consoles seem to be following their lead: Microsoft’s next Xbox Series model will ship without a disc drive.
Thankfully, the future of physical music and movies looks brighter. Music continues to release on both CD and vinyl. And movies seem to be enjoying niche popularity with 4K Ultra-HD Blu-ray releases, which can look quite stellar. Best Buy is discontinuing the sale of both, but f*** ’em.
So physical media will continue to get more love from me in 2024. Eventually, I’d love to get to the point where I own all my favorite albums, movies, and previous-gen video games in their physical form. No rush though.
There were several instances during 2023 where I needed to muster up confidence, but didn’t/couldn’t. This led me to miss out on life-changing opportunities.
So while I’m not usally a “manic” personality, I can see the value in it. Sometimes, life demands that you take a leap of faith. And if you don’t have the “faith” or confidence in that moment, you won’t leap.
My idea to rectify this in 2024 is alcohol. Specifically shots of hard liquor. When I encounter a confidence-demanding moment, I’ll reach for some good ol’ liquid courage. Not too much; Not too little — just enough to get me over that hump of uncertainty. And I’ll always drink after identifying the best course of action while sober.
Within reason of course. And never when driving or operating heavy machinery.
Technology and the internet have seemingly entered a dismal era. The hivemind of artificial intelligence mimics human ingenuity, steals art indirectly, and threatens human jobs. Social media has made us more anxious, isolated, and depressed. And the latest iPhones offer sparse innovation while carrying the same high pricetags.
The internet of the mid-aughts (2000s) was far less detrimental and existentially threatening by comparison — and I miss it. Here are some reasons why:
Websites were more diverse and decentralized. Social media giants existed, but were far less authoritative. As a result, independent sites were more relevant and drove more traffic and profit. Remember when you could make webcomics full-time? Now one company (Meta) owns more than half of social media (Facebook, Instagram), and most webcomics are posted there. And other than acting as professional portfolios, most independent, non-corporate websites won’t generate much traffic or profit. And if they are, I bet you their numbers are dropping… because websites are only becoming more centralized
Socialmediaand the internetwere supplemental to life, notfundamental. The internet and every day life were two distinct places. You could inhabit one or eschew the other depending on your preferences. And while new and exciting things were happening on the internet, it was still a nascent and quirky technology that didn’t have mainstream appeal. Most critically, social media’s lower-fidelity bandwith meant it couldn’t reproduce lifethru high-res video and communication: It was merely a supplement. Now you can attend schooling, work a job, and meet your wife all within a web browser. Life and the internet have merged completely
Art media had been liberated, but not yet cheapened. The internet started and boosted many artists’ careers. Musicians could release and sell full albums on iTunes without being beholden to greedy and archaic record companies. Podcasting amplified the voices of thousands of would-be talk show hosts and DJs. And improving online video fidelity allowed burgeoning filmmakers and hobbyist producers to find audiences. This greatly improved media — but with time, it cheapened it too. The sheer volume of content and instant-access desensitized audiences to its value, antiquating the notion of paying for it or supporting creators. But back in the mid-aughts, there was a more harmonious balance of consumption. People still bought CDs, went to movie theaters, and bought webcomic paperbacks
What about you? What was your favorite internet era or decade?
As you may know, Bethesda’s Starfield is a game about exploring space. In its universe, an environmental disaster has made Earth unihabitable, forcing humanity to settle among the stars. But the bulk of the universe remains unexplored and uncolonized, which is where you, the player, come in.
Naturally, Starfield’s main quest and side content is built around this theme of exploration. You’ll trek across the galaxy surveying planets, scanning minerals, and building outposts. Most of this exploration is optional — but the main quest necessitates answering the age-old question: What’s out there?
And yet, Starfield’s gameplay designers seem to have forgotten what makes exploration fun. Because they’ve literally copy-and-pasted environments and levels to assemble the main quest.
At about the mid-point of Starfield’s main story, you’re tasked with finding mysterious temples scattered across the stars. But unlike the other story missions that take place across varied locales, these temples are identical. And while each grants you a new power, attaining that power always involves solving a simple, predictable puzzle. They’re all the same — and across all twenty-plus I’ve discovered, they never change.
This is especially strange because Bethesda have done better before. In The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, upon receiving a new power (shout), the game asks you to prove you understand its use with a quick challenge. For example, you can’t progress the Greybeards quest until you’ve used your “Fus Ro” power. And later on, a dungeon requires you to use the “Whirlwind Sprint” power to advance.
Meanwhile, Starfield’s temple puzzles test your ability to float in zero-g — a task that a kindergartener could complete. Again. And again. And again.
It’s painfully predicable. And in being predictable, there’s no sense of discovery. And that is the antithesis of what Starfield is all about.
I can only assume Starfield‘s designers were rushed to finish this aspect of the game. There’s no other explanation. And there’s no excuse.
Here’s a fun fact about Starfield: According to Reddit user iOnlyWantUGone, every time you start a new game plus iteration in Starfield, the odds are increasingly stacked against you.
The game does this on the backend by increasing the damage you receive and decreasing the damage enemies receive, as seen in the table below:
NG1
NG2
NG3
NG4
NG5
Damage Received
+15%
+30%
+44%
+57%
+69%
Enemy Damage Received
-5%
-10%
-15%
-20%
-25%
NG6
NG7
NG8
NG9
NG10
Damage Received
+79%
+88%
+94%
+99%
+100%
Enemy Damage Received
-30%
-35%
-40%
-45%
-50%
Presumably, Starfield does this to scale difficulty to player strength. While you don’t keep any of your items or ships in each New Game Plus, you do retain your player progression via skills. And since there’s no level cap, this means you’ll only ever get stronger in Starfield — eventually allowing you to max-out every in-game skill.
Byte-Sized Worlds 