The Raving

Jedi Knight: Mysteries of the Sith

While Dark Forces II: Jedi Knight had some flaws, it also contained more than a few elements that made it endearing to me and a legion of other fans. It was the story of Kyle Katarn’s ascension from a freelance blaster-toting fighter to a member of either the Jedi Order or ruler of the Sith, depending on your choices. Traditional shooter gameplay gave way to using Jedi force powers and spectacular (at the time) lightsaber duels. Combine the enthralling gaming experience with the delightfully cheesy live-action story videos, and you have a game that’s better than the sum of its parts.

Imagine my delight when I saw that this game I loved was getting an expansion that not only dealt with the Sith, but featured Mara Jade as the lead character! A new game with Mara Jade, nemesis of Luke Skywalker turned ally, was a big deal. After all, this was 1998; the peak of the Expanded Universe for Star Wars fans. Considering Lucasarts’ track record, there didn’t seem to be any downside to having high expectations. Just look at this box art! Mara Jade! Purple Lightsaber! RANCOR!!!

Okay, so it’s just the manual but it’s all I managed to hang on to for 21 years.

Unfortunately, Mysteries of the Sith is the least fun I’ve ever had while playing a Star Wars video game.

That’s not saying that the game has aged badly, even though it has. It’s more a reflection of the lack of quality found in the game at the time it was released. In fact, the thing I remember most about my first attempt to play the game was encountering a progression-stopping bug that either forced me to restart it or wait for a patch to be released.

Both Jedi Knight and MotS have some shared quirks. There’s a unique feel to the movement and the action that’s only present in games built in the Sith engine. Because the games were developed in the early years of three-dimensional shooters, everything is big and blocky. And while Jedi Knight embraced this and gave players huge and expansive levels to explore, MotS traded these for medium-sized levels that are packed with more non-player characters and scripted sequences.

I could list off a laundry list of things I observed in my experience with the game, but ultimately I think it boils down to four distinct failures:

Failure #1 Mysteries of the Sith starts off by giving the player control of Kyle Katarn.

By itself, this isn’t a bad thing. Players were familiar with Kyle, and starting a new game with a lightsaber and full suite of force powers is a good way to get straight to what made Jedi Knight shine. Unfortunately, the game’s introduction takes a long time; four of the fourteen levels belong to Kyle instead of Mara Jade. Though she’s present in between missions during the cutscenes, I started to wonder if I’d ever get to play the game’s marquee character.

Finally, after spending two hours repelling a generic Imperial attack on a nondescript base players are given a glimpse of what this game is all about:

At the end of the fourth mission, Kyle abruptly leaves the story to go and pursue rumors of a Sith temple on a faraway planet. This leaves the player to take control of Mara and not do anything related to mysteries or Sith.

Failure #2After immersing the player to fun, competent mechanics it strips all of them for a restart almost 1/3 of the way through the game.

You’re finally in control of Mara Jade on the fifth mission. Jedi student to Kyle, her force abilities are considerably weaker than his. Forget about the first two hours of the game that you spent wielding a lightsaber to block blaster bolts and force-pull enemy weapons out of their hands. You’re a padawan now! While it makes sense from a story perspective, it makes the game instantly less fun to play.

Mara is unable to reliably block enemy shots with her lightsaber, and her force powers are weak and seem to take ages to recharge. It’s much more effective to equip a blaster and shoot everything that moves. Forget about being a Jedi until you can level up your force powers.

Leveling up your force powers happens between missions. Completing mission objectives will usually give you a point or two to apply to a power of your choice. What’s stated in the manual but not in the game itself is that extra upgrade points are awarded for discovering secret areas. I missed a lot of secret areas, so by the time I got to the end of the game I felt like Mara was significantly under powered to face the uncertainty that was waiting for me. Speaking of the end of the game:

Failure #3The key selling point of the game, Mysteries of the Sith, isn’t embraced until the last three missions.

There are fourteen missions in MotS. Kyle makes a vague reference to a Sith temple at the end of mission four, but the player doesn’t actually do anything related to mysteries or Sith until mission 12. So what the heck happened in the middle seven missions? A lot, and nothing.

Mara is sent to secure supplies from a Hutt gangster, who sends her to steal something from one his rivals. In the process of doing this Mara is captured and sent to a dungeon. Eventually she faces off against a Rancor with nothing but her lightsaber and an array of weak force powers. It sounds a lot more fun than it actually was. Fighting a Rancor involved a lot of saving, dying, and reloading while I figured out how I was actually supposed to survive the sequence. There was so much potential for a fun game, but the way the game was executed really sucked the fun out of it.

By the time I got to Dromund Kaas, the location of the Sith temple, I was ready for the game to be over. The last few levels have a ton of creepy atmosphere, but there are a bunch of new elements thrown at the player for them to figure out.

No weapon except your lightsaber will function on the Sith planet. There are creepy statues that block your passage unless you use your power of force persuasion. Scattered about are a few tiny Ysalamiri that sapped my force powers. Oh, and there are some traps and hidden sinkholes that appear without warning and kill you in about three seconds.

And can we spend a minute to talk about the encounter with ‘Evil Mara’? In the first level on Dromund Kaas, Mara enters a foreboding structure to find a darker mirror of herself. She’s dressed in black and wielding an orange lightsaber like Kyle’s. This begins your first lightsaber duel in the game. It had the potential to be really cool, but wound up being nothing but a pile of frustration. My under-leveled force powers were a severe liability here as I tried to cope with Evil Mara’s frequent bursts of force lightning. While I died after about 3-5 hits with a lightsaber, Evil Mara took close to thirty before finally going down.

What wound up happening is a vicious cycle of save, hit, save, hit, die, reload, repeat.

Never mind the fact that I still don’t know exactly why I was fighting against an evil version of myself. My best guess is that it’s supposed to mirror’s experience in the cave on Dagobah during The Empire Strikes Back. In the movie, there are enough subtle and overt clues to let the audience know that this is a warning to him not to fall to the dark side. Mara’s experience in the game, however… I still don’t quite know how to interpret that.

I still have a lot of questions about the direction of the game and I think the answer to them is:

Failure #4The developers had ambitions for a game bigger than the one they wound up making

In short, I get the feeling that the developers had far more ambition than they had resources to realize their vision. 1998 was a legendary year for action games on PC, so I’d guess that MotS had to be released early in order not be competing with other big titles. Releasing a scant five months after Jedi Knight, it’s possible development was rushed to meet deadlines.

While I don’t know how exactly we got the game we did, I do know what it’s like to play now. And it’s not fun. Really. I don’t recommend anyone play this; it’s just not worth it.

It took me about eight hours to beat the entire game. I recorded all of it and cut out about three hours of frustration, wandering, and failing to give you my definitive play though experience. Most videos have some hopefully humorous annotation to give you a glimpse into my madness while playing:


Mysteries of the Sith has some good qualities and a lot of bad ones. There is a wealth of great concepts present here, and most of them were executed flawlessly in 2002’s sublime Jedi Outcast. But that’s a game for another post…

The Siren Song of Gaming Music

…every track perfectly conveys the emotional undertones present in the game. This is music felt, not just heard. Every track takes my mind to a pivotal story moment that shaped the lives of each character.

The soundtrack to The Last of Us is brilliant. Simple melodies are expertly executed with a flair for musical minimalism. This is not a grand score with a full orchestra. No, it’s a musical narrative of a harsh world crafted with only the essential instrumental voices needed to convey an idea. Every track on the album evokes emotion. From the eerie premonition of ‘The Outbreak’, to the moment of intense resolve present in ‘The Hour’, and the absolute horror of “Infected”, every track perfectly conveys the emotional undertones present in the game. This is music felt, not just heard. Every track takes my mind to a pivotal story moment that shaped the lives of each character.

At least, I think they do. See, I’ve never played The Last of Us. It’s been on my ‘want to play’ list for ages, but as I don’t own a Playstation and don’t use Playstation’s streaming service, the game has remained out of my reach. I’ll get around to it one of these days.

It takes a special composition to forge an emotional resonance to a piece of music when the listener only has a limited context for the piece. This is especially true when the music is only an instrumental score and no lyrics are involved.

Judging from the soundtrack, The Last of Us seems to be an intimately horrifying glimpse into the life of a makeshift father / daughter relationship in a harsh and cruel world.

Mirror’s Edge is another title where I’ve devoured the soundtrack by Solar Fields, but have yet to spend any time with the game. Clocking in at more than four hours, you’ll get more than your money’s worth out of this one. There are a variety of sounds and moods present here, from calm ambiance to breathless but harmonious tempo; this is the perfect background music for thinking or working.

‘The View District’ is my favorite track. A gentle but upbeat intro sounds to me like the musical version of potential; like we’re being introduced to some new opportunity with potentially huge payoffs. Around the seven-and-a-half minute mark the track shifts to an airy and energetic melody that compels my body to react in some way; either by tapping of the foot or bobbing my head. This is the musical equivalent of success. In the game I imagine this is a section where your running abilities allow you to leap across rooftops with ease in the exhilaration of parkour. In my more grounded pursuits of spreadsheets and data analysis, this section makes the numbers flow a little bit easier.

Mass Effect: Andromeda continues the musical excellence of the original trilogy, presenting themes that are new and familiar at the same time. The score seems a bit more polished to me than that of the original trilogy. ‘A New Beginning’ sets the stage well, capturing musical elements of hope and discovery without feeling overly dramatic. And that’s the key thing to this score for me: the tracks emphasize action, exploration, or danger without feeling like the fate of the galaxy rests on what’s taking place. They’re dramatic, but they don’t feel dramatized.

If I was able to travel the galaxy, kicking alien butt and taking names, I’d want the Andromeda soundtrack playing on my spaceship. While ‘Uncharted Worlds’ from the original Mass Effect trilogy is as close to perfect as you can get for map music, it makes me feel content to sit and explore a map for hours on end. Comparatively, ‘Heleus’ takes the undertone of charting an expedition and puts a sense of purpose behind it. Rather than just look at a map, I want to look at a map and then go somewhere. It’s difficult to explain.

The music of Mass Effect: Andromeda gives me the sense that the game is as much about the journey as it is the destination. We’ll see if that holds true or not.

Last but not least, I’ve stumbled upon the score for Ori and the Blind Forest. The game was described by my buddy Bryan as “a nicer Hollow Knight”, and that’s the vibe I get from the soundtrack. There are recurring themes of magic, wonder, discovery, and a bit of whimsy. Wherever the game takes place, I get the sense that holds a special significance to the main character. Something about the world is worth discovering, worth pursing, worth saving? I have no idea what happens in the game, but there’s a lot of emotion bound up in these musical notes.

One of these days, I’ll have to see if my musical impressions were right.

What are your favorite video game soundtracks? Leave a comment and share below; I’d love to take a listen!

Exploring DOOM

But should you choose to get lost and ignore the guiding lights, you’re bound to discover something. And that’s the fun thing about exploration in DOOM: it’s never forced, but it’s almost always rewarding.

“Don’t follow the lights.” This was Gollum’s advice to Frodo in Sam as they traversed the Dead Marshes in The Two Towers. The Dead Marshes were haunted swamps which covered an ancient battlefield. The putrid water trapped the bodies and souls of those who had fallen long ago. Lingering too long could cause one to be lost to the murky abyss. Much the same could be said about DOOM. Except it takes place on Mars. In the future. And there are demons. From Hell. And following the lights is a good thing. Similarities abound!

This does kind of look like Mordor!

I’m playing through DOOM (2016 all-caps version, not the 1993 original) again. Seeing the gameplay reveal of DOOM Eternal at Quakecon made me want to. It’s just as much fun to play now as it was the day it came out. The action is as fast, frenetic, and adrenaline-inducing as it’s ever been. It truly is one of the most-fun shooters to have ever been released. But amid all the action and explosions and flying bullets and bodies, it’s my opinion that part of DOOM’s appeal is often overlooked: the level design.

After all the bullets stop flying and the demons are dead, it’s just you and a totally awesome base on Mars. Players can be forgiven for missing out on the detailed level design, to an extent. But when you stop to admire the sights it’s plain to see: the UAC makes a pretty base. (“UAC” stands for Union Aerospace Corporation, the hyper-villainous entity responsible for unleashing hell on Mars)

Every room and corridor is a lovingly arranged bit of sci-fi aesthetic engineering. Employee lockers have contents spilling out of them, computer screens have data or error messages scrolling down them, safety warnings are plastered everywhere; there’s a lot of detail present even before it’s covered up by the remains of unfortunately dismembered base personnel.

It’s not all cosmetic, either. Green lights guide the way. Present on walkways, railings, and equipment; these lights emit a piercing green glow which serve as a point of orientation. All you have to do is follow the lights for the surest route of more progress.  There’s no way they could be called ‘subtle’, but they never look out of place.  They’re placed smartly enough so as not to be noticeable when looking backward over your path of progression. This is especially beneficial after a disorienting gunfight. Between the lights and the in-game map, it’s almost impossible to get lost. 

But should you choose to get lost and ignore the guiding lights, you’re bound to discover something. And that’s the fun thing about exploration in DOOM: it’s never forced, but it’s almost always rewarding. Exploring is the means by which you acquire upgrade points for your suit and weapons. Sometimes you’ll stumble upon an alternate path to your main goal. If you’re lucky, you’ll discover the hidden lever which unlocks the area where classic maps are unlocked. And if you know just where to look you might stumble upon more than a few Easter eggs, like a skeleton having a birthday party

So the next time you find yourself battling the demon horde in a UAC research facility, make it a point to slow down and take in the sights. You never know what you might find…

Battlefield 1 and the Pigeon of Doom

Remember that it is 1918. They didn’t have radios in tanks back then. And yes, they really did use messenger pigeons during The Great War. So given a bit of context, it’s not that absurd for a commander to send a message back to HQ on the foot of a pigeon.

It’s kind of difficult for me to know what to expect of shooters these days. Having grown up on the 2.5D shooters like Wolfenstein 3D, Doom, and Duke Nukem, I was able to watch the medium make a long and frequently awkward transition into rendering increasingly realistic 3D environments. Each year brings a new technological innovation that allows game creators to cram more visual fidelity into the worlds they create. 

The problem that creative works run into is known as the “uncanny valley”. The more realistic things appear the more people will see how they are, in fact, fake. This knowledge will gnaw at the subconscious of the person viewing the media, therefore undermining any kind of immersion that’s trying to be generated. The opening hour or so of Battlefield 1 is one such moment for me. 

Meet a soldier. I don’t know who he is, and I don’t know who he’s fighting for. The opening scene shows him resting in a hospital bed as a scratchy recording of “Dream A Little Dream Of Me” played over a war montage. This is the first thing that tripped my uncanny alarm. I got the impression the soldier was listening to the song in the hospital bed, having nightmarish flashbacks to his time in battle. Except “Dream A Little Dream Of Me” wasn’t recorded until 1931. World War 1 ended in 1918. 

It’s just a song, sure. And I get that the juxtaposition of the sweet lyrics are supposed to clash with the carnage unfolding onscreen. But this comes across as heavy-handed pandering rather than channeling the heart of what soldiers might have actually experienced. There are plenty of songs from that era that might have been a better fit for the moment. “I Didn’t Raise My Boy To Be A Soldier” by the Peerless Quartet, for example.

At the end of the montage the screen fades to black and some serious text tells me that “What follows is frontline combat. You are not expected to survive.” Well that’s just dandy! Missing from this grim piece of news is who I am, where I am, and why I’m fighting. A soldier nearby tells me that we need to “hold the line”. Because lines don’t hold themselves, I reckon. 

Fighting among a ruined village, I settle in and get used to the controls and information presented onscreen. The game is beautiful in a desolate kind of way. I’ve never seen a burned out countryside look this good! Eventually I work out that the soldiers with tiny blue dots over their heads are allies and I should shoot the soldiers without those dots. 

After a few minutes, I run out of ammo and then die. The screen fades to black and shows the name of what I presume to be the soldier from whose perspective I just played, and his birth and death years. “Karl Wilcox” 1900 – 1918″. The camera pulls back from the spot where Karl breathed his last, pans over, and zooms in on a machine gun nest near some trenches. 

I’m now manning a machine gun, mowing down enemy troops as they unwittingly get funneled into my field of fire. It’s kind of a fun shooting gallery! Eventually something next to me explodes and the machine gun falls over, rendering it useless. Now I’m holed up next to some allies in a burned out church, shooting enemies in the face with a trench gun. I run out of ammo. Again.

This goes on a few more times… 

…but there wasn’t much emotional resonance from any of these experiences. There was a brief section in there where I played the part of a tank’s gun operator, which was pretty fun. A man I presume to be my commanding officer shouted the phrase “FOR KING AND COUNTRY” at least once, so I think that I’m experiencing things from the Allied point of view. 

As the first mission draws to a close I’m enjoying the core mechanics and the slick presentation, which seems to be a bit at odds with the somber tone the game wants to present. The way the opening mission jumps from person to person suggests that the only way to progress through a mission is by dying. I tested this out once. Picking my shots carefully until I almost ran out of ammo, I was still alive. Feeling the odds tip against me, I ran away from the front lines back towards allied soldiers. I was able to hide for a bit, but nothing else in-game happened. Only when I ran out of cover and allowed enemies to shoot me dead did the game jump forward and begin the next story. Awkward?

At this point I’m sincerely hoping that the game goes into more depth in telling the individual experiences of soldiers who lived through the first World War. Thankfully, as the mission ends and I’m treated to a montage teasing, I presume, stories portrayed in the game:

Okay, now that’s more like it. ‘Through Mud And Blood’ is the first series of missions. Played from the perspective of a tank driver named Edwards, it’s your job to drive a tank named Black Bess through battle and keep her crew safe. 

As tank missions in war games go, this one is pretty typical except for the World War 1 setting. Shoot some bad guys, hop out of the tank to exact some repairs when it gets damaged, blow up the anti-tank guns, etc. The visual fidelity and detail really help sell the experience here. Hills deform under the weight of the tank. Buildings and walls are destroyed by explosions. There’s smoke, water, and mud; and all of it looks fantastic. 

Except that mud is very bad for your tank. Back in 1918, tanks were very new, and they didn’t know how to build them to not get stuck in mud. If you get the tank stuck you’re a sitting duck, practically inviting enemy troops to swarm in and shoot you through the view ports. So when it comes to dealing with mud, there are two options – Plan A: avoid mud at all costs. Plan B: send out a homing pigeon to call for an artillery strike of your immediate surroundings. 

Let that last sentence sink in for just a moment. 

Remember that it is 1918. They didn’t have radios in tanks back then. And yes, they really did use messenger pigeons during The Great War. So given a bit of context, it’s not that absurd for a commander to send a message back to HQ on the foot of a pigeon. 

That’s one deadly bird.

Your squad mates argue as to whether or not it’s a good idea to call for an artillery strike. Understandably so. If the coordinates are wrong, you’ll die. If the artillerymen don’t fire accurately, you’ll die. If the pigeon doesn’t make it back to HQ, you’ll die. This may have actually been a point of tension in real battle. After all, it’s hard to disconnect our modern perception of technology from what we think war might have been like in 1918.

Where Battlefield 1 jumps the shark is the way it portrays this moment in the game.


Well, now I can add ‘become a pigeon’ to the list of things video games have let me do. 

Battlefield 1 really, really wants me to take it seriously. But as you can see, I’m having some trouble with that. Can you understand why? 

The Wind… of Change

“You hear that? It’s the wind… of change.” Change can be a funny thing. Depending on what it is and when it occurs people might refer to changes as crises, opportunities, or seasons. My changes began about six months ago. I got promoted at work to a supervisory role and my responsibilities expanded. My major project, implementing a company-wide Enterprise Resource System, kicked into high gear and required most of my mental resources during the work day. That, coupled with spring just being an insanely busy time in general, meant that I didn’t have much time for gaming; let alone writing about it. Hence, it’s been about four months since I last posted a blog post at a regular interval. Life, huh?

As we’ve come to August, things are finally starting to settle down for me a little bit. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. Lately I’ve been outlining some of my life priorities, and one of the things I had to do during this process was examine what I felt was a success in the past year. RavingLuhn was one of those successes. Writing and publishing at a semi-regular interval over a period of time is something I hadn’t been able to pull off before. While I struggled at times with scope and themes, other times words just came naturally and flowed with ease. Looking forwards to the rest of this year and beyond, I think I want to expand the scope of what I’m doing here. Part of my plan involves taking RavingLuhn mobile. That’s right; I got a laptop. Say hello to ‘Puter: 

It’s old, it has a screen resolution of 1366 x 768, it chokes when opening two tabs in Chrome at the same time, and it can’t be upgraded; but I got it for free. In short, it’s perfect for playing old games and fostering my creative tendencies. I expect to play a bunch of older, 2D games here; games that I tend to overlook when using a computer that has a decent graphics card. Microsoft’s Visual Studio 2017 is here to help me on my way to learning C++. I have no idea how well that’s going to go. Most importantly, I’ve also installed OneNote and Twine 2.0. These tools I’ll be using to outline and write a story that’s been in my head for the past few years. My ultimate goal is to publish a novel; it’s a sci-fi adventure story with a bit of humor and a lot of heart. I’m excited about it, and I look forward to sharing more about it when it’s ready.

So what is RavingLuhn now? It’s my home for wild, irrational, and probably incoherent ideas. I make no promises about the quality or frequency of future content here. Expect the site to be divided into a section for games and a section for writing. Expect a lot of (hopefully) entertaining Twine stories to be posted. And most of all, I expect it’s going to lead to something amazing. Eventually.

Deus Ex – The End!

“Here is a sandbox where you get to play with all the different game mechanics; figure it out and have fun doing so. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the second half of that mission. It takes place in tunnels underneath the base and is guarded by devious four-legged security bots that don’t hesitate to electrocute you to death. “

I finished Deus Ex. Finally. It took about 30 hours of play time spread out over an extremely busy over four months, but I did it. My first thought after seeing the end credits roll? This game is way, way too long. Even so, I now understand why Deus Ex is regarded as one of the best and most influential games of all time. Ultimately it comes down to player agency, and providing a gameplay environment for it. There’s almost always more than one way to do things, and one option is just as valid as the other. Enemy encampment? Kick down the front door and run in guns blazing, or sneak through a vent knocking goons unconscious with your billy club. It’s possible to beat the game without killing anyone. Ridiculously hard, but possible. Deus Ex is the first game to offer this amount of choice to the player, and do it well.

The game falters a bit at about the halfway point, in Hong Kong, because that’s where it should have ended. At this point you discover that the global plague is manufactured by the UN as a way to control the people. They manufacture the plague as well as the cure, doling out either as they see fit. Ideally, the game would have wrapped up here with a mission or two where your character destroys the plague, manufactures the cure, and saves the world. Instead, more conspiracies and secret organizations are added to the fray. The Illuminati show up, as does a rogue AI, a few crime syndicates, and a lot of powerful angry white men. It didn’t take too long before I forgot who was an enemy, who was an ally, and why I cared about anything that was happening.

In spite of the story threads resembling a plate of spaghetti, the gameplay stayed pretty sold through it all. My favorite, and most memorable mission is probably Vandenberg. Jock, my personal helicopter chauffeur, drops me off on top of the main building of a military base that’s just been taken over by the bad guys. I walk around on the roof to get the lay of the land, mark out targets, and evaluate potential points of entry into the base. It’s a setting that encapsulates the spirit of the game. Here is a sandbox where you get to play with all the different game mechanics; figure it out and have fun doing so. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the second half of that mission. It takes place in tunnels underneath the base and is guarded by devious four-legged security bots that don’t hesitate to electrocute you to death. Just fighting one of those robots is a challenge if you don’t have the right weapons, let alone a half a dozen.

And that example illustrates one of the problems with player choice: it’s all too easy to make decisions that come back to haunt you. Spending skill points on pistols is a great idea until pistol skills are all you have to deal with a half-dozen murderous electrocution robots. These decisions also extend to your personal cybernetic upgrades. Each upgrade is picked up as an item that fills an inventory slot. They can only be installed in certain parts of the game by a medical bot. Each upgrade serves one of two functions and can’t be reassigned. Though the game does offer a description of what each upgrade does, it’s difficult to grasp the gameplay ramifications until you have a chance to use it. While in Hong Kong, I found an upgrade that let me choose between an Aggressive Defense System and a Spy Drone. I went with the defense system because it sounded better. However, I had spent the entire game up to that point building a stealth character and the defense system – used during open combat – would be practically useless for me. The spy drone would have allowed me to deactivate turrets, cameras, and yes; even murderous electrocution robots. Live and learn, I guess?

As convoluted as the story is, the game’s final chapter wraps things up in a relatively satisfying way. As the mission progressed, I received personal communiques from the main faction leaders asking me to act on their behalf. Even though at this point I had little clue how the major players fit into the overall story, the game gave me a clear path for how those stories would conclude. I could either merge with an AI to lead humanity in peace and harmony, let the Illuminati take over and do things they way they’ve always been done, or I could destroy the global communication grid and plunge the planet into a New Dark Age. New Dark Age it is! All it took was the disengagement of some coolant lines and overloading a reactor and the world as people knew it was over. Seems like it should be more difficult than that. My only complaint is that while the game gives the player full freedom to choose the ending, the result of that choice isn’t conveyed in a meaningful way. After pressing the button to blow the reactor, I got treated to a scene that shows my character running through an exploding room and then the game ends with a quote superimposed over a globe. I expected to see some bums huddling around a fire in the darkened ruins of New York or Paris. My actions would have had more impact if the game had shown what this New Dark Age looked like.

Deus Ex is widely regarded as one of the best, most influential games of all time. Having completed it, I can understand why that is. Playing through titles like Thief, Prey, Dishonored, Alien: Isolation, Bioshock and others; it’s easy to see the influence of Deus Ex. Some of the greatest games since 1999 have buit on the foundation laid by Deus Ex;. Even though it’s hampered by a convoluted story and a bit of bloat – expect to spend 25+ hours to get through it – it’s still one of the best games you can play today.

The Definitive RollerCoaster Tycoon Experience

“OpenRCT2 is an open-source re-implementation of RollerCoaster Tycoon 2 (RCT2), expanding the game with new features, fixing original bugs and raising game limits.”. To put it another way, a dedicated group of fans have spent years voluntarily rebuilding RollerCoaster Tycoon and improving it in nearly every way.

RollerCoaster Tycoon takes the prize as my second favorite game of all time. So much so that it was the subject for the first post I ever published on this website. Since it occupies such a spot on my list, I’ve got some great suggestions for what your definitive experience with the game should be. Sure, you could just buy the game from Steam or GOG and play it without any modifications, but I don’t recommend it. Installed directly as purchased, the game is locked in a 4:3 aspect ratio that will be stretched to your widescreen monitor. In addition, there’s no way to play in windowed mode. No matter how long you play, it’s likely you’ll never quite get used to the squished perspective everything has. On top of the awkwardness of actually running the game, if you buy RollerCoaster Tycoon 2 you’ll be stuck with some ugly, ugly scenarios.

Here’s a screenshot of what the vanilla game looks like as installed on my PC and played on a standard widescreen monitor at a resolution of 1920 x 1080:

No, it’s not bad, but it’s just kind of awkward. If you don’t think so, compare it to the screenshot below:

The angle is better. The Ferris Wheel is round. The perspective shift doesn’t make things look quite so flat. Things don’t look quite so muddy. It’s an all-around improvement, I’d say. So what’s the secret to the change? OpenRCT2. As stated on the project’s website, “OpenRCT2 is an open-source re-implementation of RollerCoaster Tycoon 2 (RCT2), expanding the game with new features, fixing original bugs and raising game limits.”. To put it another way, a dedicated group of fans have spent years voluntarily rebuilding RollerCoaster Tycoon and improving it in nearly every way. All of these changes and tweaks are completely legal, since the source code to the game was voluntarily released years ago. The improved version of the game works on modern operating systems and is compatible with a wide array of hardware. It supports windowed mode or plays full screen at nearly any resolution. There’s a debug and cheat menu. And it’s quite easy to import custom scenarios. Ready to play yet?

To have the definitive RollerCoaster Tycoon experience, here are the steps you need to take:

  • Purchase RollerCoaster Tycoon 2: Triple Thrill Pack from GOG: https://www.gog.com/game/rollercoaster_tycoon_2 Install it on your PC.
  • Download the OpenRCT2 launcher from the website’s downloads page: http://openrct2.org/downloads Scroll down to the bottom of the page to get to the correct link:
  • The next page you’ll see has a bunch of different versions of the file to download. The one you want is the straight .exe file for windows:
  • Download it, and then run the installation process. Once the program is installed, remember that you want to run the program called “OpenRCT2 Launcher”, and not the installation of RollerCoaster Tycoon. They are very different!
  • To make your installation complete, you must download and install the scenarios from the first RollerCoaster Tycoon. They weren’t included in the retail release of RollerCoaster Tycoon 2, but the game’s dedicated fan base reconstructed them and assembled them in an easy-to-install pack. The link to the scenario pack is in this Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/rct/comments/1h93gx/more_exact_recreations_of_rct1_scenarios_for_rct2/ The MediaFire link is the one to get.
  • To install the new scenarios, extract the contents of the file you just downloaded to the scenario folder created by the installation of OpenRCT2. The file path for that should be something like “C:\Users\YourUsername\Documents\OpenRCT2\scenario”

That’s all there is to it! Prepare to enjoy dozens if not hundreds of hours of one of the best PC games known to mankind! If you need any help with the install process, leave a comment and I’ll do my best to walk you through it.

Deus Ex – Betrayal!

Turns out, murdering a fellow agent isn’t the thing to do if you want to earn favor with your boss. But surprisingly enough all I got was a scolding. […] In retaliation for the betrayal, they’ve remotely deactivated Paul’s augmentation and activated his kill switch. Your brother has twenty-four hours to live. If Paul has a kill switch, that means I do too. Step out of line, and the powers that be will snuff me out. This kind of puts a dampener on morale; nobody likes to work for a jerk!

This post is the fourth in my series which chronicles my journey through the original Deus Ex. Read part three here.

The pursuit of stolen Ambrosia continues. I’ve successfully traveled to the private section of LaGuardia airport in pursuit of Juan Lebedev, the man behind the theft of the Ambrosia vaccine. According to Joseph Manderley, my boss at UNATCO, “Lebedev poses a continuing threat to UNATCO. He is also a dangerous man, and if the operation should result in his termination rather than capture, there is no doubt that the agent responsible would be found acted appropriately and with the full force of the law.” Lebedev is loading the stolen vaccine onto a plane in preparation for transport elsewhere. My job is to find him and the vaccine, and prevent both of them from leaving the airport. 

Sneaking around the airport was tense, but not as difficult as I thought it might be. Due to my unfortunate resort to violence in the last mission, I was well stocked on tranquilizer darts here. There were a few security bots I had to sprint away from, but I was able to get the drop on most of the security guards. Outside of the the airplane hangar, my main objective, I had a little bit of trouble with the guard house. There were two ways in: a door, and a second-story window. Entering through the door put me in full view of two NSF troops. There was no way for me to incapacitate both before one of them triggered the alarm. Going in through the second-story window put me in a dorm room. There were some supplies, but I needed a lockpick to get out, and I didn’t have one. At this point I’m starting to wonder if lock picks really are so fragile, or if the game has made them disposable for the sake of balance. It’d be kind of overpowered if I only needed a single lock pick to open every locked door in the game, right? To get in the guard house, I wound up going back outside through the window, and tossing a few metal crates around. The noise attracted one of the guards from inside, which I batoned into submission. This left me free to give the remaining guard a dart-infused nap. Obstacles removed, I stood freely in front of my objective: Lebedev’s 747.

Betrayal! In this hangar I find a terrorist-operated 747, a barrel of stolen vaccine, Juan Lebedev himself, and my dear brother Paul waiting on the front steps to greet me. He’s a double-agent, affiliated with the NSF but working undercover at UNATCO. Shocking? Maybe to some people, but it was pretty clearly telegraphed by the game up until this point. What I didn’t expect it what Paul tells me about the virus. The Gray Death is a man-made virus, which means someone unleashed it intentionally. Since UNATCO is the only organization capable of creating and distributing the cure, every organization on earth is subject to their whims. Earth is controlled by bankers. Who’d have thought?

I go into the plane and prepare to meet Lebedev. Before doing so, a friend of mine suggested I plant a LAM, Lightweight Attack Munition in the hallway outside our meeting. It seems a bit odd to me to plant an explosive outside of a peaceful meeting between a government agent and a world terrorist, but who am I to judge?

Explosive planted, I walk in to interrogate Lebedev. He surrenders and says little else. My conversation with him ends, and the hallway outside his room explodes. A second later, I hear footsteps walk past me and into the bathroom. Following them inside, I notice that Anna Navarre is cloaked and registering as a hostile. Shooting her a few more times, she falls and then explodes. Cybernetically augmented agents do that, apparently. Wait, what? I planted the explosive in the hallway, and Anna detonated it. The explosive is triggered by any kind of motion, friend or foe, so that’s why it detonated. The blast wasn’t enough to kill her, but she registered it as an attack and responded by activating her built-in cloaking defense. At this point, she is hostile towards me since I planted the explosive. I had to shoot her a few more times to preserve my life and Lebedev’s. She then died, at which point her cybernetic implants went into overload and exploded so nobody could recover them.

So what would happen if I didn’t try to explode Anna preemptively? Deus Ex is great in that it gives nearly unparalleled player freedom, but it doesn’t necessarily make clear what the alternative options are. As it turns out, if Anna had come into the meeting between JC and Lebedev, she would have issued an ultimatum: Kill Lebedev or she will. Kill the prisoner, and you both go back to UNATCO. JC would be riddled with the guilt of murdering an unarmed man; a man who his bosses claim is a terrorist. In addition he’d be no closer to knowing why his brother betrayed an organization that’s the embodiment of international cooperation. Kill Anna, and you’ve betrayed the world government and will presumably suffer their full wrath.

Since killing an unarmed prisoner isn’t my cup of tea, I decided that to betraying my host organization was the moral thing to do. It was a good thing that Anna had been removed from the picture. After she, er, departs, Lebedev is in more of a talking mood. He states that JC and Paul are genetically-engineered humans; a pioneering experiment in the absolute control of mankind. UNATCO is a lie, that it’s just a puppet for the real threat: a secretive organization called Majestic-12. Why else would there be only one corporately-manufactured cure to a global plague? Shouldn’t the recipe for healing be transmitted to any company that’s capable of manufacturing it? The Gray Death is about controlling the population. The NSF was working on getting the vaccine to a man in Hong Kong named Tracer Tong. He’s working on reverse-engineering the cure so it can be mass-produced and distributed to the masses.

Treason committed and sinister plot uncovered, it’s time to go back and report to the boss. Manderley is not happy.

Turns out, murdering a fellow agent isn’t the thing to do if you want to earn favor with your boss. But surprisingly enough all I got was a scolding. Manderley was happy enough that they were able to take Lebedev into custody, but he’s very upset at Paul’s abandonment. In retaliation for the betrayal, they’ve remotely deactivated Paul’s augmentation and activated his kill switch. Your brother has twenty-four hours to live. If Paul has a kill switch, that means I do too. Step out of line, and the powers that be will snuff me out. This kind of puts a dampener on morale; nobody likes to work for a jerk! To make things worse, my next official assignment is to go to Hong Kong and execute Tracer Tong. UNATCO takes their anti-competition clauses quite seriously.

I walk over to the helipad and meet up with my pilot, Jock. He’s not taking me to Hong Kong, but rather back to Hell’s Kitchen. Paul returned to his apartment and is in need of my help. You know, since he’s being murdered by the people who made him. Upon capturing Lebedev’s jet, UNATCO now has the locations of many other NSF agents around the world. This puts Paul’s allies under the hammer, and they’re getting wiped out left and right. Paul went back to Hell’s Kitchen because there’s a communication center nearby he can use to broadcast a warning to his friends.

There’s a lot to this section, but I think the most important thing is that I (finally) learned how the game’s durability system works. Doors, panels, and certain other objects have ratings assigned to them. These ratings make it easy to see how difficult it will be to access them. Take a look at the screenshot below; there are two ways to gain access to it. In order to open it up, I need to either use two lock picks or deal more than 10 damage to the door. 

Thankfully, the damage stats for each weapon in your inventory is pretty easy to read. My upgraded pistol deals 16 damage per bullet, making it a very logical choice to get that cabinet open.

However, there’s a door right next to that cabinet that required some… more powerful… methods in order to get it open.

The room that I blasted my way into contained some incriminating data on UNATCO. Paul needed me to broadcast that to the world along with the warning to other members of the NSF. This required I work my way back on top of a building to get to the broadcast terminal. Since I was still friendly towards the UNATCO troops who occupied the building, this was not a problem. However, part of being a cybernetically-powered super soldier is the always-on monitoring software. It’s this feature which allowed my tech support Alex to record – and then delete – my interaction with Anna on the jet. This is the same feature that allowed Walton Simmons, evil robotic overlord, to witness me broadcast a signal to the NSF in real time. Since he, through some malevolent influence, commands all UNATCO forces, this was a problem for both me and my brother Paul. Now we’re both enemies of the state.

Paul was back at his apartment, sitting defenseless whilst surrounded by now-enemy troops. When I make it back to visit him, he tells me to run for the subway station and leave him there. Leaving and running is the most logical thing to do. I possess no heavy weapons, and even if I did I don’t have the training to use them effectively. There are at least a dozen human soldiers to contend with, as well as two or three tough Men In Black. The only problem running away is that if I do so I also condemn my brother to death. Leave, and he’s out of the story. Considering that it’s his influence that caused me to betrayed the only peacekeeping government on the planet, there’s no chance I was going to just let him sit there and die. 

Since my armament consisted of little more than a pistol and a mini crossbow, this was a tough fight. I had to resort to using my one LAM to take out the Men In Black, and that was barely effective enough. My pistol proficiency was good enough that I could stay crouched and land head shots consistently, but the ammo reserves dwindled very quickly. The lobby of the ‘Ton held a more challenging fight. A dozen or so UNATCO troops wait stationed at various locations, all of them holding different armaments. I had to save, reload, and reload again to find a path that worked effectively. In the end it took a combination of pistol shots, tranquilizer darts, and a well-placed gas grenade to ensure that my brother and I could leave the hotel alive. After the battle Paul pushed me towards my only route of escape: the subway. Unfortunately, Gunther was waiting to remind me that there is no escape from scary robot men. 

Deus Ex – Dealing Drugs, and the Dumpster That Should Not Be

Owing to my inability to tell the difference between the men’s room and the women’s room, I find myself in the men’s bathroom. There’s a junkie here named Lenny, and he’s in bad shape. He threatens to blow me up unless I can get him a fix. As luck would have it, I picked up some drugs in Hell’s Kitchen. Here is where I have a brief moment of internal crisis. Do I really want to be a low-level drug dealer?

This post is the third in my series which chronicles my journey through the original Deus Ex. Read part two here.

The working theory is that the terrorists took the stolen vaccine to the warehouse, then dropped down into some abandoned subway tunnels to transport the goods elsewhere. First step: get to the old subway tunnels. A chopper takes me away from UNATCO HQ and drops me off at battery park, outside Castle Clinton. There’s a shanty town nearby where I press sum bums for informatio. Though I have no memory of the encounter, in a previous mission I was told the Mole People’s secret password. A bum in the shanty town pressed me for the passphrase, which JC knew. He gives me a secret code to activate a hidden entrance behind a phone booth in the nearby subway station. After punching in the code the entire booth sinks into the floor, granting me access to a passage that leads to the old subway station.

Ah, good old decrepit subway stations. Dark, moody, and just not a whole lot to see. A couple of bums walk the platform, as well as a hooker and a junkie. There’s a door on one end of the station, but the hallway behind it is blocked by some heavy debris. One of the bums on the platform tells me that everyone living in the station has been suffering since the water got shut off. There’s a valve that, when opened, will restore the flow of water; but it’s located past the blocked hallway. I do have an explosive, a LAM, in my inventory, but I don’t want to use it just yet. It’s usually best to search through the area and make sure there aren’t any other pathways forward.

On the level above the platform I run into a group of stout and well-armed gang members. All of them instruct me to talk to their leader because “he manages the business”. So that’s what I did. Upon seeing my augmentation, he offers me a job: take out the drug dealer on the platform below in exchange for some high explosives. I decline the offer; I didn’t sign up to do anyone else’s dirty work. Upon reflecting on his method of payment, it’s pretty obvious that the only path forward is through the blocked hallway. After turning the water back on and clearing the path, a nearby bum tells me that there’s a secret passage in the women’s restroom. The NSF moved “a bunch of barrels” through there an hour before I arrived. The secret passage is opened via keypad under the sink. Owing to my inability to tell the difference between the men’s room and the women’s room, I find myself in the men’s bathroom. There’s a junkie here named Lenny, and he’s in bad shape. He threatens to blow me up unless I can get him a fix. As luck would have it, I picked up some drugs in Hell’s Kitchen. Here is where I have a brief moment of internal crisis. Do I really want to be a low-level drug dealer? Is that why I play video games? I already blew through the passage, so I don’t really need more explosives. But then again this is Deus Ex, and I’m certain that there will always be a need for explosives. I tell my conscience to shut up and trade the drugs for a LAM. It’s only as I’m writing this I realize I never did anything about the drug dealer on the platform. Oops. Maybe Lenny will live to take a hit another day. 

Downward towards the Mole People! The secret passage takes me to another closed-off section of the abandoned subway tracks. In these depths are more bums, barrel fires, and patrolling NSF troops. In one corner, a kid and his dog are standing by a barrel. Two NSF troops stand nearby, talking to themselves. From my best estimation, the enemy troops are far enough away not to notice me. I approach the boy and ask him if he’s seen the troops moving any barrels of Ambrosia. He begins telling me his answer when I hear a rapid beeping sound. Yeah, we blew up. As it turns out, those two NSF troops were in range! While I started talking to the boy, they tossed a grenade in my direction, blowing up all three of us. Jerks! I reload my game and decide to try again. This time, I sneak up to the corner and launch a tranquilizer dart at one soldier, switching to my pistol to take out the other. Satisfied that I had cleared the area, I again approach the boy to listen to what he has to say. We blow up. Again. Turns out there was a third NSF soldier that I hadn’t seen the first time. I reload my game again, then equip my pistol and go Liam Neeson on them. Finally, I can listen to the boy! He tells me that the terrorist leader lives down here. He’s got a hidden residence nearby, and the button that grants access to it is hidden; shaped like a brick. I never found it.

Instead I went what turned out to be the opposite direction and find a set of bathrooms. Again, one of them leads to a secret passageway. What is it with cyberpunk terrorists and hiding secret passages in bathrooms? Where do they go when they actually have to use the loo? In short, I wind up in sort of a large hallway protected by two security robots. There’s only one way forward, and it’s through them. I suppose it may be possible to shoot them down, but I haven’t the firepower for it. There’s a manhole cover nearby. Out of curiosity, I check it out and find it leads to a section of sewer. At the end of it, there’s a crate that conveniently contains an EMP grenade. It makes short work of the bots, allowing me to progress. Thank goodness our terrorists hide crates containing live ordinance at the bottom of a sewer!

As I approach the next section, Alex, my tech handler, comes in over the radio to tell me I’m approaching a helibase terminal. It’s connected to LaGuardia airport, and it’s where the NSF is ferrying all the drugs through. He even tells me that they’re close to identifying the person responsible for moving the shipment. Sounds ominous. This would be a story beat that occupies the forefront of my thoughts, but I get distracted by something completely trivial. Look at the screenshot below. Do you see it? If you can, then you know it is nothing other than The Dumpster That Should Not Be.

The Dumpster That Should Not Be

Okay, I realize that this probably wouldn’t bother most people, but it sticks out to me like – well, a dumpster that has no right of being there! Think about what a dumpster is and where you see them in real life. When you go to a strip mall, it’s a long series of shops and storefronts. All the customers go in through the front doors, do their business, and walk straight out again. All the ugly, smelly business goes out the back door to the dumpster. There’s usually a service road where the dump truck drives through in the wee hours of the morning and hauls all the nasty garbage away. In an office complex, it’s on the back end of the building, surrounded by an open expanse of parking lot. Even shopping malls have collection points that allow a garbage truck enough space to maneuver around them.

Why is there a dumpster here? Look again at the screenshot above. I’ve just come to an underground helibase through service passageways and tunnels. This would presumably be where garbage is taken away, but none of the passages I walked through are large enough for a dumpster or a dump truck to drive through. No lifts, no garage doors, no open passageways. Check out the screenshot below: the double doors might presumably be large enough to push a dumpster through, but why would people take their trash out of the office only to have to cart it back through again? It makes no sense! It’s little things like this that make me do a double-take in games. These missed details pull me out of the world just a little bit and make me wonder if the game’s level designer really thought things through. 

Deus Ex is certainly not the only game ever to make these mistakes. Doom, Half Life, and Far Cry have all done the same thing. Crates, vehicles, or other large objects are present in a space where there’s no logical way for them to have gotten there. It’s a sort of spatial anachronism that just eats away at my sense of immersion. Does it really matter? Not at all! But it does shed a bit of light on the evolution of game design as a whole. Years ago, before games had the ability to render believable spaces, they relied on artistic license to convey their setting. When technology started to catch up with artistic vision, there was a bit of an awkward period where it was hard to create semi-realistic environments just right. Details like this and the logistics of how that game world really functioned were overlooked. All it would have taken for some of these areas to make sense would be to place a large garage door on one wall. It doesn’t need to open or to lead anywhere, just serve as a suggestion that the game environment is bigger than what the player can see. Game developers got better at this with time, and it’s just interesting to see what some of the growing pains were. I don’t think it invalidates the experience at all; moments like this are the exception rather than the norm. Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled blog post:

Sneaking Into the Helibase

I’ve been crawling through service tunnels, trying to make my way up to LaGuardia airport to track down some stolen drugs. Right. There’s an atrium before me, surrounded by a series of offices that I need to sneak through. Enemy troops are very active here. At least five of them have patrol routes that take them through or overlooking the atrium. It’s going to be difficult to sneak past all of these guys.

Trying to be the nice anti-terrorist agent, I do my very best to neutralize the guards on patrol in a non-lethal manner. My results are mixed since some of these enemies are quite far away. If I can hit someone in the head with a tranquiler dart, they’re rendered unconscious immediately. Hit them anywhere but the noggin and they panic and try to alert everyone in sight. It’s a challenge to be an accurate shot with the darts, since their trajectory drops significantly over long distances. Trying to factor a the path of a projectile against a moving target makes incapacitating guards at long range a tricky proposition! What usually winds up happening is that I aim too low and land a dart in their upper torso. Victims know the toxin is moving in their body and they’ve got a few seconds to do something before losing consciousness. They panic and run to their allies. In this particular case, there’s an alarm in the base. All they have to do is press the giant red button and everyone comes swarming to that location.

After a few attempts to disarm the base the nice way, I decided the only way to progress was to play for keeps. It’s time to whip out the silenced pistol and take down these terrorists one by one. The downside to this is that fallen bodies alert other soldiers. Now I not only have to neutralize the enemy, I have to clean them up. In a cold and logical way, it makes sense that I would have to do this. How many times have we watched a spy movie and and seen the secret agent drag a body to a closet so they could safely continue clandestine operations? In video game form, it’s really no different. Discovery means failure. Neutralize the target, wipe the evidence, and move on to the next one. The only problem here is that by the time I cleared the area I felt less like a secret agent and more like a twisted serial killer.

Hmm. There were more enemy troops around than I first expected. But my cover is still intact, somehow! That’s a good thing right? With the area clear, I can proceed to the maintenance elevator and go up to the ground level of LaGuardia airport. As I survey the helicopter landing pad one more time, I can’t help but wonder how all of those giant shipping containers got there…

 

Deus Ex – Hell’s Kitchen

All of these paths forward are completely optional. If I’d wanted to, I could have skipped all these other distractions and just walked through an alley to approach the warehouse head on. Tactics dictated that doing that was a bad idea for me. Since I’ve been playing with a stealthy, mostly non-lethal approach, I have no practical means of neutralizing multiple enemies at long range. Plus, I just don’t want to go in with guns blazing. It’s that Deus Ex thing again: giving players a choice about how to play the game.

This post is the second in my series which chronicles my journey through the original Deus Ex. Read part one here.

Terrorists have intercepted a shipment of Ambrosia, the anti-plague vaccine. JC, that’s me, recovered a lone barrel of it in Castle Clinton, but the majority of it remains unaccounted for. Clues point inland, towards a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. The NSF’s armed forces have retreated there and set up a line of defenses. Such hasty movement shouldn’t be a problem since UNATCO employs multiple cybernetically-augmented superman. But part of their defense involves a powerful generator that produces an electromagnetic field. This effectively blocks UNATCO troops from entering. Your mission: Disable the generator so your brother Paul can swoop in and recover the vaccine.Hell’s Kitchen is kind of a barren place. What first strikes me about the environment is how much it does and doesn’t feel like a big-city neighborhood. On one hand, its depiction if a city block is pretty spot-on when compared to many other games released around the turn of the millennium. On the other hand, it’s really, really barren. Cities are a hard thing to recreate in video games. In the real world, there are thousands of tiny details and variations that give buildings and neighborhoods a human touch. Even in subdivisions filled with cookie-cutter houses, the personalities of the people who dwell in them set them apart from each other. Gaming technology of the late 90s just didn’t have the power to display all of that. As a result, buildings become large shapes comprised of overly-simplified geometry. Those large shapes are then covered with a small patch of a texture, tiled and repeated to cover the surface area. Since the human brain wants to find patters, big rectangles covered with repetitive designs stand out like a giant sign saying, “this isn’t real!” This is supposed to be the heart of New York city, after all.

From a gaming perspective this usually means that if there’s a detail present in a large open area, it’s there for a reason and worth investigating. Shortly after entering the level, I find a corner of the map where there are a few crates and a dumpster. On the building exterior above them is a ledge. Thinking this must lead somewhere, I stack the crates so I can jump onto the dumpster and then traverse the ledge to an open window. It’s connected to a small one-bedroom apartment. There’s a safe in the wall, so I use one of my valuable lock picks to get it open. Inside is a bio-electric cell and another lock pick. There’s another locked door in here, but I don’t have anything to open it with. The loot I got didn’t seem worth all the trouble, but at least I didn’t lose anything valuable. Before leaving, I scan the room for anything else of interest and my cursor briefly highlights an object on the wall. Out of curiosity I crouch down for a closer look. It’s an electrical outlet. I press the right mouse button to interact with it, and wind up shocking myself. Puzzled as to why the game would allow this, I shock myself a few more times before losing interest and move on. Maybe some practical use for this will reveal itself later on?

Feeling sufficiently energized, I head off to explore another corner of Hell’s Kitchen and walk right into a firefight between UNATCO and NSF troops. The bad guys were severely outnumbered here, so I crouched behind a barricade and let the battle play out. Once the bullets stopped flying I did what any decent soldier would do and looted the corpses that piled up in the street. Since I’m still not planning to play this game with the intention of shooting everything in sight, I didn’t recover much that was of use to me. Most of the troops were carrying machine guns and big bullets; not anything I’ve used so far. Talking to the sergeant in command of UNATCO troops, I learned that the bad guys had fled through a nearby door. It’s secured with an electronic lock, but nobody knows what the pass code is.

As barren as Hell’s Kitchen is, there’s still a lot to do. In addition to the firefight, I also saved a bum from getting beaten up by NSF thugs. I met a drunk outside of a hotel who warned me about a hostage situation inside. And last but not least, I beat up a pimp who was trying to further the exploitation of one of his call girls. All of these activities are completely optional, but all of them enrich the main path of progression. The bum offered a clue that could get me to the main warehouse via an entrance hidden by shipping containers. Clearing out the hostage situation in the hotel provided me with  a clue to the location of a window I could climb through to gain access to my objective. Knocking out the pimp led to more discussions about crime in the area and ended up giving me the pass code to the door that my UNATCO ally told me about earlier.

All of these paths forward are completely optional. If I’d wanted to, I could have skipped all these other distractions and just walked through an alley to approach the warehouse head on. Tactics dictated that doing that was a bad idea for me. Since I’ve been playing with a stealthy, mostly non-lethal approach, I have no practical means of neutralizing multiple enemies at long range. Plus, I just don’t want to go in with guns blazing. It’s that Deus Ex thing again: giving players a choice about how to play the game. I decided to go the quiet route, back to that warehouse entrance protected by a keypad. After sneaking past some guards, picking a few locks, and climbing a ladder or two, I found myself on the rooftops.

In the times I’ve played this game before, the rooftops have always been a cakewalk. Enemies didn’t seem to be able to see three feet in front of themselves, allowing me to wield a baton and knock them all out stealthily. That didn’t work this time. The improved AI in GMDX surprised me. While I was standing near a ledge using my binoculars to scout he rooftops ahead of me, I started taking damage. Where did that come from? I frantically panned around and couldn’t see anything! Finally I noticed there was a sniper on a rooftop below who had just hit me for the third time. In a panic I whip out my pistol and send some bullets back in his direction. The firefight attracts the attention of two other enemies, and I wind up lining up some long-range shots with my pistol. So much for the quiet entrance.

As I get closer to the warehouse, I drop down to ground-level and find a staircase that leads to a second-floor office. There’s a lone NSF soldier sitting at a computer. I introduce my baton to the back of his head and then hack into the workstation. Before I know it, I’d turned off the generator and an alarm starts blaring! It was my intention to see what the computer controlled and then do some more snooping around, but I inadvertently shut down the generator and triggered the end of the mission. Now NSF troops are rushing past me towards the roof, where I hear a lot of gunfire. The enemy troops are exchanging fire with an unseen assailant on the roof. One by one they crumple to the ground in front of me. Gunther Hermann, an ally of mine, had been dropped on the roof via helicopter and was securing my extraction with a lot of bullets.

Warehouse infiltrated? Check! Generator shut down? Check! Lots of enemy troops, gunned down in a hailstorm of bullets? Uh, check, I guess. While it wasn’t my intention to complete Deus Ex with a nonlethal run, I didn’t really want it to turn into a bloodbath either. The fact that you can still complete your mission even after things go wrong is one of he alluring things about this game. I’m certain that if I was a lot more careful, I could have completed this mission more discreetly. It’s a relief to play a game that’s comfortable with improvisation, rather than programming the player to fail unless they do things exactly as specified.

Speaking of failure: after returning to UNATCO HQ, you find out that Paul botched the retrieval mission in the warehouse. UNATCO still doesn’t have the drugs they were after, and Paul didn’t report back to HQ. The NSF is still moving the vaccine, conceivably through abandoned subway tunnels. It’s your job to clean up your brother’s mess and go find the drugs. I poke around at headquarters for a bit, healing from the bot in the med lab and then try to hack into an email account or two. It turns out that some of the top brass isn’t happy with Paul. The “Primary Unit” isn’t behaving as expected, and they are releasing him from service. Ominous tidings for my bionic brother…