This is the second part of a two-part series. Read “Part 1: Discovery”

I started thinking about writing full length reviews of video games in late 2001. I was still at University. I was going to make a website and came up with some generic name I thought was edgy and reflective of what I wanted to accomplish. It was going to cover more than video games. I had some things to say about popular culture.

After talking to some friends at school about my vision, there was some interest in this collaborative effort. There was already a zine floating around our faculty, but it was horrible. It was a soapbox for people frustrated with school and mostly contained their annoyingly priveleged views on an “oppressive” society. Instead of being provocative or insightful it was lampooning popular culture with pedestrian observations and half-baked philosophy. I could do better.

Of course, when you rely on friends to produce something for free, it doesn’t happen unless you get on their case about it. And I wanted to keep my friends. Plus, the whole “trying to graduate from University with a degree” thing. The project died on the vine, and I gave up the dream. For the time being, anyway.

I graduated from school the next spring, and started playing video games while I looked for work. My comptuer was getting old, and at this point the most it could muster was Unreal Tournament and Civilization III. I read the issues of PC Gamer that were mailed to me to keep up with the industry and the hobby I loved. I hung out on the internet a lot, and read too many terrible reviews that people actually got paid to write. My head started filling with ideas again. I could do better.

I started thinking about another website. Something that would capture my love of video games and provide an outlet for my brand of scathing commentary. I would call it “Tales of a Scorched Earth”, because I am an insufferable Smashing Pumpkins fan. I would adopt the handle of “Gatmog”, because it sounded cool and it provided the mystery any good internet handle should have¹.

During this time, I started playing and thinking about video games as if it were research. I built a new desktop PC after I got a job and some money. I had a new purpose: I would record my thoughts on video games, write some reviews and share them with others. The availability and ease of use of self-publishing tools made this easier than I expected. I thought I would be doing something different than the typical weblog, and I used that as inspiration.

I wrote a lot of reviews and embarrassing posts during that time². I published most of them. It was a start.

Medal of Honor: Allied Assault (2002)

When Medal of Honor: Allied Assault was released, it recieved endless praise from the entire video game industry. The word that reviewers liked to throw around was “cinematic.” The movie reviewers liked to reference was Saving Private Ryan. Which was completely natural, seeing as how Spielberg himself had something to do with the game. But this was the start of a recurring problem with video games.

With the success of the Medal of Honor franchise, everyone wanted to tap into this new sub-genre. We started to see a lot more games use World War II as a setting. And the people that loved every single one of them would soon turn on them as fickle audiences often do. And not because the setting had nothing new to offer (Brothers in Arms proved that³), but because it was simply a skin designers would stretch over the same tired FPS formula. Will World War II games ever be fashionable again? Will they ever explore anything deeper than gun-toting heroics? Maybe we’ll see a bunch of games about Iraq in 40 years that leave out all the bad parts, too.

I didn’t actually get to play Allied Assault until later in the year, when I upgraded my desktop. In hindsight, this was fortunate, as everyone was over the initial hype and playing Battlefield 1942. I played the Omaha Beach landing and took part in what everyone called “the most intense experience you will ever encounter in video games.” At the time, I agreed with these hyperbolic reviews. And I still do, mostly. It is intense. It is absorbing.

But is it accurate? And, even though we already know the answer to that, is it right to give these games praise for offering a sterilized simulation rather than realism?

The World War II genre is simply a manifestation of the gaming industry’s obsession with “cinematic presentation.” Big budgets and bigger expectations encourage developers to create the equivalent of Hollywood’s summer blockbusters, in the hopes that this will somehow contribute to the validation of the medium.

However, by doing this you have now have reviewers who base their opinions on how games reference the “source material”, which are movies, and are themselves not entirely genuine. No one who reviews one of these games understands what happened out there on the battlefield. You can’t expect a veteran to play this and give their solemn nod of approval⁴. They fought so we wouldn’t have to. Why do we insist on reliving these horrible events? Why do we call it a game?

Allied Assault got me interested in the history behind the events of these games. I started reading about World War II, and the famous battles and operations summarized and retold by its various missions. I wanted to know what it was really like. I read the first hand accounts of Allied soldiers who were just kids thrust into the front lines and expected to carry the weight of the free world on their shoulders.

In Allied Assault I had autosaves and quick reloads when I died. After reading some of these books, I found the whole concept disturbing. At this point, I wanted to study these games. I wanted to record and categorize the effect of this genre on people’s impressions of World War II, and war in general. I wanted to prove how out of touch our generation was, and how these events are being perverted by an industry.

And yet with all that introspection, I was ensnared just like everyone else the following year by Call of Duty⁵, designed by key members of the 2015 team who left EA to create Infinity Ward. This was a game I could get behind. You weren’t Rambo, you had buddies standing around with you joining the fight for freedom. See how much personality they had? See how everyone reacted when they died?

I wouldn’t articulate these feelings for another few years, in an article I wrote for The Cultural Gutter⁶. I detached myself from the spectacle of it all. I thought about those 20 minutes spent in 2002 trying to beat the Omaha Beach mission in Allied Assault, and how I was annoyed at the number of attempts it took me to complete. Indirectly, these games still had a lot to teach me.

Rise of Nations (2003)

I played Civilization II along with everyone else in University. I stayed up way too late for “one more turn”. I tried out Alpha Centauri after Sid Meier left Microprose to form Firaxis in 1996. I felt that Civilization III was a richer game than its predecessor and probably the best in the series, even though the critical reception for Civilization IV has long since overshadowed it. When I heard that Brian Reynolds was leaving Firaxis to form Big Huge Games and was planning to make a real-time Civilization, I was a little shocked. Would this be a travesty or the breakthrough crossover that everyone had been waiting for?

I got Rise of Nations the week it was released. I played it for at least three months straight. I introduced it to friends and acquaintances that had never played Civilization, and whose experience with Real Time Strategy was the brute force reactive tactics of StarCraft and Command & Conquer. I watched as they succumbed to the spellbinding combination of civilization building and front-line battles. Tales of a Scorched Earth was almost ready and this would be the first review I would write.

My review for Rise of Nations became an obsession. I was struggling with the review style I would use on my website, as I wanted to avoid the type of product summaries that everyone else slavishly followed. I had to pick apart this game and figure out what made it work so well. I wanted to trace its influences back through video game history, and put words to Reynolds’ brilliance in how he selected the best aspects of these influences and combined them into a satisfying whole. As I struggled to find my voice, I also tried to develop my own rubric for reviewing video games with words and not numbers. While I was familiar with the criticisms surrounding either approach, I just wanted to write.

I never did publish that review; instead, smitten with the recent purchase of a Game Boy Advance I finished and published my review of Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow. A more simplified effort, and what I thought was the safer bet. I didn’t know what audience I would acquire, and I didn’t have confidence enough in my detailed analysis of Rise of Nations to think anyone would find it worth reading. Going back to read the Castlevania review is disappointing. I could have set the tone for this website a lot earlier.

Rise of Nations is stilll one of my favorite games. But it also remains one of the most important in the development of this website.

Metroid Prime (2002, played in 2003)

One of my friends got an XBox and Halo: Combat Evolved the day they were released. I was still in University. Naturally, I had to see for myself what everyone was getting excited about. Microsoft entering the console market? Preposterous!

Halo was a first person shooter, designed to be played with a gamepad. As an overzealous PC gamer⁷, I looked upon this game as an abomination. How could anyone get used to this? Nudging an analog stick provided nowhere near the same responsiveness or precision as a mouse. There had been numerous attempts prior to the XBox to bring FPS to game consoles, and this effort would be no different. I’d give it a try, just to say that I played it. I made it a third of the way through the co-op campaign in two sittings. You know, to humor him.

A few years later, Halo would be identified as not only the XBox’s “killer app”, but the game that made consoles a viable destination for FPS. With the introduction of XBox Live, people were playing Halo 2 online like I was playing Unreal Tournment a few years prior. This was it. The end was coming.

I refused to legitimize this shift in attitudes towards console gaming, even in light of what I called “PC Defectors”: developers and gamers who were growing tired of the PC as a platform, and moved over to the XBox for a more streamlined and hassle-free experience.

Back in late 2003, the Gamecube was subjected to a massive drop in price by Nintendo. It clearly couldn’t compete with the PlayStation 2′s stranglehold on the market, or the unexpected rise in popularity of the XBox. The Gamecube had a limited selection of 1st party titles, but no “killer app” that would sell consoles the way the Grand Theft Auto and Halo series did for the PS2 and XBox. At this cheaper price, Nintendo would settle for being someone’s second or third game console. This is how I got in.

I had heard about The Legend of Zelda: The Windwaker, Metroid Prime and Super Mario Sunshine. I knew they were good games, and reason enough to own a Gamecube. However I found myself connecting the most to F-Zero GX at the time, because I had so many great memories surrounding the SNES version. For $150, how could I go wrong?

Well, I was wrong. About the title I bought the console for, anyway.

Metroid Prime caused an uproar among fans of the series. Like everyone else I was astonished at how such an iconic side-scrolling action game could be transformed into a first-person shooter.

Metroid Prime was the game that proved me wrong about FPS on a console⁸. Retro Studios made a PC gamer feel right at home with the Gamecube controller, creating an accessible blend of action and adventure in a vibrant new environment, while still retaining everything I enjoyed about the old Metroid games (even the backtracking!). The combat may have been made easier with the lock-on feature, but the controls were forgiving enough to allow me to get comfortable with the idea of using a gamepad to move and jump and shoot instead of the trial-by-fire approach to Halo‘s brand of action. Metroid Prime may not have been a true run-and-gun FPS, but it allowed me to get comfortable with the concept. There was nothing to fear about FPS on a console.

While those sentiments were sincere, I still remained faithful to the PC. My aversion to console gaming wouldn’t be dispelled until much later.

Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines (2004)

Like everyone else, I bought Half Life 2 on the day of release. I can’t say my excitement was of Diablo II-proportions, but it was a day that would cement Half Life into the video game collective conciousness, after attracting a cult following since the original’s release. It would also mark the launch of Steam, which would bring Valve’s authentication servers to their knees. Half Life 2 redefined acceptable linearity in FPS by creating a compelling narrative driven by the player⁹. I fully acknowledge it as one of the greatest games ever made.

Unfortunately, Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines had to compete with the blockbuster release of Half Life 2. Being the first game to use the Source engine, it was rushed to coincide with Half Life 2‘s launch, and it showed. The textures were plain and uninspiring, the facial animations stiff and inhuman, and there were numerous game-crippling bugs. Players and reviewers thought this was reason enough to overlook the game. There was Counter Strike: Source to be played, after all.

This would be devastating to the sales and critical reception of the game. It was Troika’s last effort before shutting down in February 2005. It was also their greatest achievement.

As soon as I finished Bloodlines, I wanted to play it again. This was a game that captured everything I loved about the tabletop RPG, and about computer RPGs in general. It was an example of what these games should be striving for. The voice acting was superb, and the dialog felt completely natural and engaging – something I wouldn’t encounter again until I played Mass Effect. I loved Bloodlines unconditionally, and as a result it changed the way I thought about video games. If a game is deeply flawed, yet so perfectly displays an aspect that defines the genre, it should still be recognized. Maybe I had too much of a personal investment in this game, but I made a point of advocating it to whoever I talked to. I even called it the best game of 2004 when everyone else was handing those accolades to Half-Life 2¹⁰

In early 2005, I got an email from someone who read my review of Bloodlines. Up until then I had received a few emails since starting the website from random visitors with mostly disposable praise or criticism. The useful feedback usually came from the comments section after each post. I appreciated every single one.

This email, though. It was from someone who had been turned off of Bloodlines by all of the negative press surrounding it upon release. He saw no reason to pursue it.

That is, until he read my review.

At that point this person, whoever they were, completely validated my existence. I wielded the power to influence people to play good games; I wasn’t just screaming into the void with opinions no one cared about. This is the most valuable piece of feedback I have ever received in the entire life of Tales of a Scorched Earth, and I will never forget it.

After that I knew my purpose. I would not be content to simply play video games and write up a review. I wanted to critique them. I wanted to contextualize them in our culture, and provide more than just references to other games. I wanted to cut through the hype and evaluate a game on its own merits, not popular opinion. I wanted people to recognize the flawed ones that deserved better.

Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines is the reason this website still exists.

Gears of War (2006, played in 2008)

When the ad campaign started for Gears of War, I was filled with seething rage. My allegiance to PC gaming was as strong as it had ever been, and seeing Epic use their Unreal Engine to create what appeared to be a third person shooter in some darkened and grunge-layered science fiction setting felt like a betrayal of the highest order. These were the same guys that brought us the brightly colored and meticulously balanced Unreal Tournament 2004. What started with Halo would soon completely reshape the landscape of first person shooters and multiplayer gaming on the console. It was a sobering revelation, and I despised Gears for perpetuating this trend.

Time passes, people have children, and they tend to unclench a little. Maybe that’s all I needed.

In the summer of 2008, I bought a laptop to replace my desktop. In hindsight this may have forced my hand in the decision to purchase an XBox 360. But I’ll get to that.

I got Gears of War for my PC, because I wanted to try it out for myself. I already had a XBox 360 controller from my time with Assassin’s Creed, and I used the HDMI-out to plug my laptop into the TV. It was an instant XBox 360!

I played through most of the campaign. Visually, the game was a lot more detailed than what I originally gave it credit for. The duck and cover, shoot and run mechanics flowed naturally, and I was able to get a grip on the control scheme for the most part. But something didn’t sit right. I tried with the mouse and keyboard, but it felt sluggish and unresponsive. I didn’t like the story, or the neverending stream of gender stereotypes and macho overcompensation coming from my television. I gave up on Gears of War. I moved on to something else.

In November 2008, I played Horde mode in Gears of War 2¹¹. It taught me to use the 360′s controller for shooters, and revealed an “endless mode” with an intensity of play that stripped the game down to its basic elements. I loved what I was experiencing.

I went back to Gears of War on my PC and finished it. I then started to write one of the longest, most positive reviews I have ever written at Tales of a Scorched Earth¹². Playing the game long after it was released I could ignore the press, and write what I truly felt about the game. Writing the Gears of War review was the most fun I’ve had since starting Tales of a Scorched Earth.

So I bought an XBox 360. I had to be able to play Gears of War 2, you see.

I was wrong about Gears of War. It is a prime example of the exploration of video games’ basic tenet: kill or be killed. It is Space Invaders with a Lancer, and yet it refines a mechanic for FPS and third person shooters that would be shamelessly copied by the video games that followed it.

Gears of War taught me to slough off platform evangelism. If there is a good game somewhere, I should play it. I dispensed with any rhetoric I had written in the past¹³. I would focus on the games themselves, not get caught up in the fanboy politics that accompany them. I revisited a pact I made with myself shortly after starting this website: I will write here until I have nothing more to say about video games.

And since expanding my horizons with the XBox 360, I have a lot to say about video games.

The “Gaming Made Me” series of video game retrospectives started by Rock, Paper, Shotgun came from games industry writers, journalists and the designers that make them. It’s become a kind of collective autobiography sourcing the video games that shaped who they are.

Of course, the cynical part of me expected this community-driven effort to consist of mostly name-dropping key titles from the history of video games. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the response of webloggers that have taken up the mantle where Rock, Paper, Shotgun left off¹.

So now I feel the need to contribute, because I think it is absolutely necessary for anyone who loves to play or write about video games to recognize the ones that got them into the hobby. Or in the case of game designers and professional writers, what made them get into the industry itself.

I have been into computers since very early on in my life, and playing computer games was a natural extension of that interest. However, I had no idea that this hobby would result in me creating a website to talk about them. I’m no industry figure, weblogging personality or budding game designer – I’m just a guy that loves to play video games, and write about them. For the people that truly love video games, they are as important as the books they read or the movies they watched when growing up.

For any game weblog, I’d say that writing something like “Gaming Made Me” is more essential than an “About” page. It’s important to let readers know where the author is coming from, and what games influenced their lives and opinions of what makes a great video game. It provides context for the reviews and criticism they produce.

At this point in my life, video games are no longer just a hobby. They have made me a writer, and they have taught me to be critical of things beyond video games. Both video games and this website have become such immutable aspects of my life, that I can’t imagine it without them.

It was hard to come up with this list. So hard, that I had to split it into two. I wanted it be a list of games that shaped me as a player of video games, as well as my viewpoints on what makes a great video game, instead of simply rewording a “favorite games of all time” list. So I’m not going to list off the Zeldas, the Half-Lifes, the Thiefs, or the Rainbow Sixes. That would be too easy for me. No name dropping of the classics and pretending as if they meant something to me in my early development as a gamer. The following list of games got me started in the hobby, tempered my opinion of the medium, and introduced me to the genres I love. Most importantly these are the games that eventually led me to write about them². They are the ones that left an indelible mark. And for that, they must be recognized.

Alley Cat (1984)

Bill Williams’ Alley Cat was one of the first games I got for my IBM clone desktop PC when I was nine years old (it had been out for a few years). The PC had no hard disk, and I had the game in PC Booter format – it booted right into the game without the need for an OS. The computer and game arrived in my house at the same time a lot of my friends were getting NES consoles for their TVs. I thought the whole home arcade thing was stupid. I could do more with a computer.

Except that all I had for my computer was a monochrome monitor. So I could play Alley Cat in black and green, or black and orange, or black and pink, or black and white. That’s some variety! Who needed the NES and its 8-bit graphics and low-fi chiptunes. I had a PC speaker.

Obviously, these experiences established my allegiance to PC gaming at an early age.

I played the living shit out of Alley Cat, mostly fueled by a white-hot jealousy of the friends that had an NES and Super Mario Brothers. So I got good at it. And for what appeared on the surface as a game for kids, it’s actually pretty hard. Jump into a window in an apartment compex, play a mini-game: a maze in a giant piece of cheese, a fishbowl with electric eels…it was pretty surreal and often frustrating. One of the mini-games involves seducing a female cat to increase the difficulty level, after which the other mini-games could be replayed. Alley Cat helped me define “keyboard bashing.”

Alley Cat was the first computer game I remember committing myself to, even if was for the wrong reasons. I consider it the start of both a rewarding and extremely damaging relationship with video games.

SimAnt (1991)

After the success of Will Wright’s SimCity, there were a series of games developed to leverage the “Sim” brand, which included SimEarth, SimLife, SimAnt, SimTower, SimTown and SimTunes. Little did we know this was just the beginning of a publisher’s business model built on the sales of expansion packs!

SimAnt is generally considered to be a critical and commercial failure for Will Wright, as it seemed to be too eccentric a riff on the SimCity formula. Instead of focusing on large scale empire building or ecosystem shaping, SimAnt was about digging tunnels in the ground, collecting food, managing population happiness, defending the colony, and avoiding lawnmowers. Most gamers weren’t ready for that.

A friend gave this game to me to try, because he thought it was cool. I was 12. I was so past the age of thinking bugs were interesting, so why would I want to create an electronic ant farm? The whole concept seemed ridiculous. Nevertheless, the game gripped me for months. It was better than SimCity: this game taught me about sustaining life³. I was so captivated by my ant colony, striving every day to keep my Queen alive so that it may prosper, that I began to assign my own narrative to it. I would later use these ideas to write a short story for my school’s creative writing contest, where I described a lowly ant’s adventures in saving his colony. I won fisrst prize for it, too. People thought it was such a creative and original concept. If they only knew it was inspired by a video game.

Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis (1992)

Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis is my favorite game of all time⁴. It made me love computer games, and electronic games in general. It made me appreciate good scripting, dialogue and voice acting. It made me believe that an original story based on a well-known property could actually result in a good game. It also made me wish it had been made into a movie.

Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis was the first game that helped me break down the barrier between “toy” and “medium” for video games. It is a game I go out of my way to play once a year, like watching a favorite film or reading a favorite book. The endgame brings sadness because I know it will be over soon. I have yet to encounter a video game that instills these feelings. Fate of Atlantis made me realize video games would be part of my life forever.

Diablo II (2000)

After finishing Ultima VIII: Pagan, I needed something similar. The game had captivated me with its isometric viewpoint, simple combat, epic quests and inventory management (really! I would have to leave excess stuff in people’s desk drawers and then come back to get it later). In response came Blizzard’s Diablo. While I would have to wait a year to play it (didn’t have the horsepower in my PC), I knew it was The Answer. See, Ultima VIII still had elements of adventure in it, as the world of PC RPGs hadn’t yet made the transition to the action-ready clickfests most of them have become. And you can thank Diablo for that.

Though Diablo was just the beginning of an obsession for me. The claustrophobic setting of a church with stairs that go down, down through relentless packs of monsters, down straight into hell, would occupy most of the time I spent with my computer. With Battle.net, Blizzard gave us multiplayer and co-op and (theoretically) endless replayability with their randomly generated dungeon levels, but it started to get tiresome. And with the release of Starcraft, the teaser trailer for Diablo II included on the disc confirmed its existence. It also gave me my reason for being as a PC gamer.

The wait for Diablo II was torture. It was the self-inflicted hell that the hero at the end of Diablo endured. My appetite for news on its development would not be appeased. I looked at screens, learned rumors of the new class types and the expansive maps that we would be treated to. The scheduled release was Spring/Summer 2000. I waited.

Closer to this time , I went to a local electronics superstore and asked for a specific street date. The woman who worked there looked at me funny and said, “You’re the 14th person to ask me about this game today. What’s so special about this Diablo II?” I had to bite my tongue at that point. Clearly society would never understand the cultural impact of video games.

I was away at University the week the game came out. I had to wait until the weekend to pick up my reserved copy, which was back home. After waiting over two years, you’d think that a few extra days wouldn’t matter. But knowing that it was there, waiting for me, just made it worse. Incidentally, I vowed to never pre-order a game after that. It hadn’t yet become as widespread a trend, but I could see that pre-ordering at a specific location tethers you to it. It provides no advantage over picking it up at any other store. Instead, you are made a prisoner with your own money and the con artists laughing at you from behind the counter.

But we are talking about Diablo II, the computer game.

The night I picked it up, I installed it on my parents’ computer. Over that weekend I must have logged close to 20 hours and stayed up way too late. I put the savegames on a diskette and packed up the CDs to go back to school. That week, I finished the game. In all it took me about four days, completing every quest and visting every random dungeon. I had beaten Diablo again. But where was Baal? The solid prospect of an expansion pack after I had finished the game helped sustain the euphoria of victory. These would be the best games ever made.

Of course, I was able to look past the hideous low resolution graphics (releasing a game in 640 x 480 game in 2000? Really, Blizzard?), the repetitive nature of the quests, and the game’s nefarious ability to make you want to collect things while in the perpetual loop of clicking a mouse button. Diablo II would provide the model for Blizzard’s own MMORPG, and an entire genre would be dominated by this game in the years after its release.

There’s no arguing Diablo II‘s impact on computer games, and video games in general. The simple “Click-Kill-Reward” concept had never been used to such devastating effect. This was a game I could install and play like some would play Solitaire, to pass the time. Everything became mindless, reflexive. I don’t think I’ve finished a game so many times as I did Diablo II. Hardcore mode provided an outlet for the experienced Diablo II player, where the character dies permanently. Losing my level 43 Sorceress stacked with a selection of rares and uniques to some pack of Fetish Shamans casting Inferno forced me to new depths of humility.

Diablo II was also responsible for something else. Back in that summer of 2000, another game was released. It was called Icewind Dale. Creating a mostly storyless dungeon crawler with the familiar rules and deep game mechanics of Baldur’s Gate had me equally gripped after I had finished Diablo II. So I decided to write an essay comparing the two. I thought Icewind Dale was the better game. I used pathetic excuses like “deeper”, “better soundtrack”⁵ and “nicer looking graphics”. I published the article on a website dedicated to games that didn’t last long. In time I realized I had betrayed a game that provided so many hours of enjoyment, and created stories I could share with the friends that also obsessively played it. Diablo II galvanized my love of PC gaming, and video games in general. Video games were more than a distraction to me at this point. I thought about them all the time, about their multiple layers of presentation, and how they were quickly establishing themselves in our cultural consciousness.

I began thinking about a proper website. I would have to write more about these things.

This is the first part of a two-part series. Read “Part 2: Critical Mass”

With access to the entire Lord of the Rings canon, EA has elected to adapt The Witch-King’s ascent to power in the North in Angmar as a new “Evil” single player campaign. The subsequent war that is waged against Men, Dwarves and Elves to eradicate the Dunedain presence in the North provides an appropriate bridge with the campaigns in the main game. Though what I’d like to see is an accompanying Good campaign that culminates in the Battle of Fornost, where the forces of Angmar are defeated.

Amongst hyperbolic descriptors like “the ultimate RTS Middle-earth experience” and “innovative new units” in the press release, improvments will purportedly be made to the shortcomings in War of the Ring mode, which I described in my review. Upgraded army persistence, additional siege options and “unified territories that serve as major control points” are some of the additions to this game mode. I’ll speculate that “unified territories” implies some kind of Resource point or even free unit bonus to an army, as it follows that a combined frontal assault would be more devastating than attacking from satellite territories. But I’d settle for adding back unit veterancy and persistence between the strategy map and battle map.

I can’t say that the new faction is inspiring; anyone could have added spikes to generic looking medieval structures. How about taking advantage of the ominous appearance of Minas Morgul seen in the films? The “new” units are equally unimpressive.

I consider The Battle for Middle Earth II the greatest game of 2006, but I almost wish they would just leave the game alone. It hasn’t even been six months since the original game’s release! But this is an incredibly unrealistic sentiment, because I know very well that this is just the beginning of another multi-part franchise that will offer the bare minimum to its supporters while exploiting the most esoteric details of Tolkien’s beloved mythos.

I’m tempted to call The Battle for Middle Earth II the best game I’ve played so far this year. I have yet to experience a game that has gripped me past completing the satisfying single-player campaigns to the point where I look forward to settling down into a nice skirmish, if only to build a fortress and assemble a glorious army. Or perhaps it was the incredible War of the Ring mode, which allows players to wage war on the entirety of Middle Earth and change the outcome of the Third Age. The Battle for Middle Earth II captures the spirit of The Lord of the Rings the way the original game did not. As much style as The Battle for Middle Earth had, it felt like you were given the means to engage in a massive campaign, but the world beyond the borders of the film’s story were blocked by glass walls. It was frustratingly limited, but in its own way still managed to contribute to the genre. The Battle for Middle Earth II is the game its predecessor should have been. It has built upon the first game’s foundations and created classic real time strategy, rendered to compliment Peter Jackson’s celebrated films and the literary work that inspired them.

The Battle for Middle Earth II is a return to form for the original Westwood team that brought real time strategy to the masses with Command and Conquer. They have maintained the strengths of the original game, and implemented some more conventional elements of the genre to create an experience that is pure RTS – the first I’ve legitimately enjoyed in a long time. However, given the advances in recent strategy titles such as Rise of Nations, Dawn of War and Rome: Total War, The Battle for Middle Earth II will initally come across as another game simply following the well-worn formula. And perhaps it is formulaic. Though it would be a grievous mistake to assume this is the extent of the game’s substance.

After acquiring the rights to produce games about Tolkien’s written works instead of just the films, EA has set out to create a game based on the War of the Ring in its entirety; the War in the North that takes place between Sauron’s forces in Dol Guldur and the Elves and Dwarves being the focus of the single player campaigns. Each of the campaigns for the Good and Evil factions was a good collection of missions that exposed the game’s new features, but they seemed a little too straightforward to be challenging for veteran RTS gamers. I was glad to see that the Evil campaign is more than just waging the War in the North from the other side – it adds a few gratuitous tasks like killing Celeborn, Lord of Lothlorien, in the first mission, already rewriting the history of Middle Earth.

The Battle for Middle Earth II is all about choice in the war for control of Middle Earth. Choices you didn’t have in the original game by being led by the screenplays. The game has been expanded to six playable factions, all of them with their own unique assets: the Men of the West (Gondor and Rohan), the Elves, the Dwarves, Mordor, Isengard and Goblins. Every race and character is represented: from the Hobbits to the Corsairs of Umbar, from the Mouth of Sauron to Tom Bombadil. Whether they are buildable units or summonable allies they are available in the game, making it the most complete game based on the Lord of the Rings mythos.

Goblins cackle upon victory. The Riders of Rohan yell as they charge into battle. Batallions let out a hearty cheer after defeating the enemy. Things that should have area damage, do. Catapults launch enemy troops high into the air – on fire if you have the flaming shot. Mumakil (Oliphaunts) sweep the ground with their spiked tusks, tossing cavalry effortlessly aside. Cavalry units still trample on a charge – something that has strangely been absent from RTS games since their inception. Despite Age of Empires III‘s awesome use of physics, charging into a mob of enemies only caused your mounted units to grind to a halt and then engage with their weapons. I’ve since noticed this trampling effect copied in Rise of Legends. Every unit has a unique death animation: footsoldiers will run wildly when on fire, cave trolls will sway and fall, causing area damage when they land. There is personality in every unit.

You are now afforded the freedom to create your base however you choose. Beginning with a fortress, the production structures can be placed anywhere. Walls are available, complete with fortifications such as catapults, arrow towers and stationary “protector” units like Ents or Mountain Giants depending on your faction. Once complete, bases were always a sight to behold in their magnificent detail. The design of the structures is consistent for each race, influenced by the films for the structures that were seen, but taking some creative liberty with the ones that weren’t, such as the dwarven stronghold and Goblin encampments. As with the first game, constructing a Resource structure is all that is required to begin building an army. But this time around, the placement of the structure effects its output efficiency. They can’t be placed too close together, and end up indirectly expanding the footprint of your base. Though in the heat of battle when you’re in need of additional resource and command points it becomes a little annoying, as you’re stuck focusing on which plot of land will output the most resource instead of maintaining your battle strategy.

In recreating the setpiece battles from the films, The Battle for Middle Earth made sure you spent the least amount of time inside your base as possible. The Citadel, or central structure in each base, had to be protected or else you wouldn’t be able to produce any new units. But the game wouldn’t end if you still had units in the field. In the Battle for Middle Earth II, instead of having to wipe out all enemies, destroying the main stronghold is often enough to ensure victory. Though this may promote rushing strategies, at least it allows attackers to focus on preparing an adequance siege force instead of spreading their army too thin over the map looking for stragglers.

In general I found that buildings (especially defensive towers) are weak and are easily destroyed, making mobile forces more of an asset. The game is almost asking you to be on the offensive all the time, which is unfortunate after all the effort that went into making base building such a enjoyable process. As a result of focusing on building large attack forces, the skirmishes are occasionally short, and depending on the level of AI do not reach the epic scale of the films.

The number of units per build has increased, increasing the scale of the battles. You can also form up your army using a mouse shortcut that creates a default Calvary in front, archers at rear formation. This can only be widened or narrowed; there are no other formation options. However, coupled with the available battle stances it can be extremely useful in open areas: I found that Dwarven Guardians made an excellent wall in a defensive stance to protect my axe throwers so they could safely launch volleys at incoming cavalry.

This increase in numbers on screen made me wish for the “ultimate” zoom out of Empire at War’s ground battles that flattens the map and creates a bird’s eye view showing everything under your control – and it allows you to select single units or the entire army instead of constantly mousing around terrain. It is also difficult to keep track of unit types in a large selection group in the Battle for Middle Earth II. The only quick-select units are the builders and heroes. This makes it hard to pick out a particular battalion that is already engaged in the often messy clashes that take place. In this regard, it would have been nice to have a pause feature similar to the Total War series to issue commands on multiple fronts instead of wasting units by hastily sending them to the enemy’s positions.

With this larger number of units comes some performance issues during particularly chaotic skirmishes. My current PC exceeds the requirements for the game, yet I had to run it at a lower resolution just to get my army to move at a normal pace instead of perpetual slow motion. Like Rise of Legends, the engine felt unoptimized and unnecessarily taxing given the quality of the visuals. Which isn’t to say that the Battle for Middle Earth II was lacking in that department – I’d easily compare it to the level of detail presented in Age of Empires III.

Overall, the game feels easier. While the factions try to seem balanced with corresponding footsoldier, cavalry and seige units, I found that the Goblins were my least favorite faction to use. Even though they were cheap and quick to produce, hinting at the Zerg strategy from Starcraft, they were still far too weak even with armour upgrades to be of any use as an assault force. Archers would easily take care of warriors before they even reached the front lines. It also seemed to be a mishmash of leftover items from the other evil races – I don’t see what spiders have to do with Goblins, unless of course they’re deferring to Warhammer. Elves are clearly the most powerful faction, with their archer units being able to completely decimate the ranks of any battalion once equipped with silverthorn arrows. Though heroes, most of all, are overpowered – I was able to fend off an entire army of Mordor with King Dain of the Dwarves as long as a Hearth was nearby to heal. It may keep with the heroic nature of the stout-hearted king, but it just felt unrealistic.

The Battle for Middle Earth series uses Command Points to control the size of your army. Even though it can be incrementally improved through buidling resource structures, building an army is still a balancing act. The system promotes battlefield strategy, encouraging you to make use of what you have and to build each unit wisely, despite an excess of resource to pay for them. For example, the larger siege units and monsters in the evil factions are more powerful, but they cost more command points. Cavalry are good to have for assaults, but are expensive to produce just to defend a base. Therefore, the game is not necessarily about collecting a mob of units and throwing them at the enemy. They must be used as intended, or else you will lose them quickly. This became readily apparent in base sieges where my catapults with the expensive flaming shot were left undefended and were destroyed by one boulder lobbed by a cave troll.

At the end of each battle, along with the standard production charts and game summary, you are given a rating for “Tactical Skill” and “Strategic Skill” used in the battle. This is a great addition for those serious about strategy. If you just pump out units and throw them at the enemy your ratings will be low. If you constantly run your cavalry into a phalanx of pikemen the game is sure to let you know you’re an idiot. If you’re just interested in completing the mission this isn’t a big deal, but for me it made me reconsider the strengths and weaknesses of each unit, using battle stances and formations to greater effect.

The Battle for Middle Earth II introduces naval battles as well, but it doesn’t benefit the gameplay as much as fans of the original thought. The exposure to war on the high seas is limited to ports or enclosed bodies of water, and don’t really offer any strategic advantage. If anything, they were used in the Good and Evil campaigns to show off the beautifully rendered water – but that’s about it. The ships and explosions are not as detailed or satisfying as Age of Empires III, and seem like they were given the least amount of attention in the entire game. The boat AI behaves like ground units in lesser RTS titles: they attack anything in their vicinity. It doesn’t make tactical sense to watch them charging towards the enemy, when most of the naval units are pretty weak and will be destroyed quickly if caught on their own.

The Battle for Middle Earth II may disappoint those that wanted a campaign with the Men of the West, since the game follows these unwritten details of the War in the North. The good news is you can make your own campaign with the War of the Ring mode, which consists of a strategic map where territories are claimed through real-time battles. It feels like a totally different game, and while taking its influence heavily from the Total War series there are still some things holding it back from being the same brand of epic real time strategy.

It’s clear that EA took their newfound sense of scale and tried to implant it in this overall strategic mode. The War of the Ring mode has a multitude of scenarios to choose from (e.g. take control of 5 territories, take control of everything, take control of a capital…it’s quite flexible), and plays more like a turn-based strategy game while in the overall strategic map. Units are built or armies consolidated in the first phase, attacks or movements are made in the second, and resolution takes place in the third. As expected, fighting for a territory takes place in real time on a battle map, or can be auto-resolved. The problem with the auto resolution is that it takes the raw performance of each unit and multiplies it by however many you have – it’s pure number crunching. If you decide to resolve combat on a battle map, what happens is entirely up to your skill or your willingness to hunt down a solitary enemy unit. The problem is, if that unit is especially powerful, two or three batallions of archers might not take it down and you’ll lose the battle. However, auto-resolving it would probably result in a win due to the base numerical advantage.

One of the things that bothered me the most about the game overall was the lack of veteran units. Part of the original game’s appeal for me was how it rewarded players that used units as they were intended. If they stayed alive long enough, they levelled up and became more powerful. They could be carried between missions, eventually creating a veteran force that would make up the backbone of your army. Units can still be levelled within skirmishes or the campaign in the Battle for Middle Earth II, but they aren’t kept between battles. This disparity is exaggerated by the War of the Ring mode, in which units created during the resolution of battles are “lost” upon returning to the world map, regardless of its outcome. Only the batallions created on the world map are retained. This undermines the entire purpose of the game mode. The general willing to risk his veteran forces should be rewarded later in the game with more powerful troops. Each battle for territory shouldn’t involve starting from scratch – it eliminates continuity between the two playing fields.

The Battle for Middle Earth II’s detractors claim it’s too much of an RTS in the conventional sense. Indeed, when compared with its contemporaries, it wouldn’t seem that ambitious – but I propose that it was never the game’s intent. EALA has created a game that is infused with the qualities of the films, while staying true to Tolkien’s original mythos. Jackson’s interpretation of the classic fantasy trilogy will always be remembered for its sense of scale, its grandiose setpieces and extended edition DVDs that gave fans everything they could have possibly wanted. The Battle for Middle Earth II never forgets this, having been affectionately crafted by some of the very founders of the strategy model that we know today. It may bear the weight of licensed material, but those quick to dismiss it on these terms are missing out on one of the finest games to be released this year.

Rise of Nations was one of my favorite games to be released in 2003. Taking familiar aspects of the Civilization series and creating a highly playable real-time version was a true accomplishment. It also helped make the overall strategic map more accessible to RTS gamers, a feature that may have been intimidating when presented with the depth and relative complexity of the Total War series. When I heard that Big Huge Games was using a completely new fictional setting for Rise of Legends, I have to admit I was apprehensive. I expected them to capitilize on Rise of Nations’ success by fine tuning it and selling it as a sequel, a tactic not uncommon in the industry (see Empire Earth). After playing the demo, I am relieved that Big Huge Games have not lost sight of what made their first game so universally appealing. Though I am also a little disappointed, because the demo is a good indicator of what the final product will be like, exposing the limited extent of their vision for the franchise.

I must warn that the overall experience was tainted by technical problems. The original demo, despite its diminuative size next to the monstrous 2 GB of the Battle for Middle Earth II demo, was clearly unoptomized for performance. Slow loading times and sub-par graphics were prevalent, even though my hardware went above and beyond the minimum recommended specs. While I was patient enough to get to the actual gameplay, many gamers weren’t as forgiving. I’ve even seen an apology from the game’s executive producer floating around, citing their reasons were to get the demo out to the fans “as fast as possible”. A new demo was released just over a week ago that adddresses these technical issues. Problem is, the fucking thing wouldn’t install until I had downloaded it five times from the official site. I wasn’t the only one, either – apparently the setup archive, once decompressed, corrupts itself no matter where you’ve downloaded it from. I’d say that if it didn’t work after the fifth time I would have stopped, but that would be a lie.

Rise of Legends doesn’t veer too far off the beaten path of real time strategy. The number of footsoldier units produced by each build is more than the original game, something I really liked about Battle for Middle Earth II. The basic principles of gameplay from Rise of Nations are preserved – the idea is to take over the map, not necessarily destroy your enemy. Nation borders assist in this process, as enemy troops without adequate supplies will take attrition damage when inside your borders. Furthermore, instead of destroying neighboring neutral villages or outlying enemy structures, you can sacrifice a number of units to take over the core city in a process called “Storming”. This tactic becomes essential in extending your nation’s borders, without having to spend the resources to rebuild.

Base building has become a little more involved in Rise of Legends. Seeing some of the first screenshots, I wondered how these elaborate designs could be built while remaining usable. Adding Districts to your city creates the “shape”, as well as adds bonuses such as an increased population to train (Military District) or the ability to create trade routes (Merchant District), with the actual production structures freely placable around the city. There are a number of upgrade prerequisites, however, making Districts less of an option and more of a standard part of establishing each of your bases. Similar to Rise of Nations, after your city has reached a certain point through upgrades it becomes a “Large City” and you gain access to additional unit types. Though even with the updated demo, the visuals definitely do not meet the same detail standards as Battle for Middle Earth II and Age of Empires III.

There’s only one resource (Timonium) and no gathering maintenance is required. Mines are built near the resource, with workers purchased directly at the mine that automatically harvest the resource without any instruction. Buildings can be created anywhere as long as you have the resource to pay for them, without the need for additional workers. The cost of units increases the more you have of them, covering everything from workers to siege vehicles. While this may decrease spending in the short term, once you have a few Timonium mines and trade routes going the handicap just feels artificial. In fact, I can see the frenzied upgrading of buildings and faction powers consuming the first part of every battle, as it was in Rise of Nations. Something Age of Empires III did well was the balancing of units through the ages, such that as long as your adversary didn’t get to the end of the technology tree, you were still able launch a successful assault with “older” units.

The most obvious addition to the gameplay are the Dominance powers. This is a great addition because it allows players to take advantage of their current position instead of cranking out units to form some makeshift defense in a last stand. For example, you can gain Tactical Dominance by being the first to attack, but if you are overwhelmed by their defenses you can order a cease fire to safely fall back. Having the strongest economy yields Resource Dominance, allowing you to instantly heal a group of units. The requirements for achieving the Dominances increases after each one is used. The use of this feature gives rewards before even defeating your enemy, effectively strengthening your current position. But this also means that the tide of war can change very quickly, as these bonuses can be held by anyone during the match depending on who is ahead at the time.

At first glace, the Vinci and Alin seem quite different (the third faction, the Cuotl, was not available in the demo). The Vinci follow a more predictable technology tree, with associated production structures. The Alin abstract the foot soldier, flying and siege units as “sand”, “fire” and “glass”. Given the Alin’s propensity for the magical and their domain in the desert, it surely fits with the faction’s theme. However, having filled my gaming diet with only real time strategy these past few months, it doesn’t take much to supplant the Alin’s Fire Circle with the Vinci’s Control Tower for air units. After playing each side in skirmish mode, it was easy to find the strengths of each Faction, but as with Rise of Nations’ insistence in accelerating through the ages getting to these units involves a lot of upgrading.

It was important that Big Huge Games chose a fantasy setting for this game, because it allowed them to play around with new units, magical powers and overly ornate structures – things that would be obviously out of place in a historically based environment. Big Huge Games have done a fantastic job in designing this new world and the races that inhabit it, as they all look unique and evoke the feeling of civilizations that never were, but could have been. There is a lot of imagination at play in this regard, it’s just unfortunate this creativity doesn’t carry over into the structure of the game itself. Nevertheless, I’ll be playing the full version to confirm these suspicions.

The promotional trailer hints at some of the Necron’s uniqueness in the way that newly built troops rise from the sands, emulating the ascent from their stasis tombs below the planet’s surface. Gamespot’s preview also adds some particulars to the ambiguous “meta map” that was referenced in Relic’s press release. It’s a logical addition to the game, and seems to be the way most RTS titles are going . The ability to play through “Planetary Conquest” mode as any race certainly adds some depth to the single player experience, but in a game as action-focused as Dawn of War is it even necessary?

Waging war on a large scale was made popular in real-time strategy by Shogun: Total War, and has since been adopted by Rise of Nations and The Battle for Middle Earth. However, in the latter the benefits always seem to be the same: get more territory, get more resource, eventually pushing your opponents right off the map. They aren’t true Empire Building games when you get past the concept; it becomes a board game. There’s no management of colonies, corrupt governors, spies, taxes, unhappy citizens – all things that are well covered by Rome: Total War and Civilization III (since simplified by the latest installment). I’d love to see the Civilization series be taken a step further into resolving real-time battles. The concepts are there, they’ve just been executed in different forms. Would it be really that hard to implement in a single game?

Regardless, I anticipate the new story campaign in Dark Crusade, and it’s good to see the addition of such disparate races from the current five. As enjoyable as Winter Assault was, I felt Relic were simply repeating themselves with the Imperial Guard’s campaign – they felt too similar to the Space Marines (the inclusion of an Evil campaign helped offset this, however). My only concern is that by increasing the scope of the game with the new “meta map”, they lose sight of what made the original concept so endearing: its focus on up-close-and-personal, fast paced, visceral frontline RTS combat. Comparisons to Starcraft were prevalent in Dawn of War’s first days – I’m finally starting to see why.

Most of my game time lately has been dedicated to real time strategy, in an effort to gather material for what will likely be another article. After playing Darwinia, I tried out another 2005 IGF award nominee: Tribal Trouble. Though to compare the two would be unfair; where Darwinia is too self-conscious about smashing genre conventions, Tribal Trouble is more of a real time strategy game in the traditional sense. As a result, Tribal Trouble comes off as a considerably more playable game. Even if it is a little too straightforward.

Tribal Trouble uses a fully 3D engine, and the game’s minimalist interface adopts enough genre standards to keep the learning curve quite low. The principle of the game is simple enough: you are either the Natives or the Vikings fighting for the control of a series of tropical islands. Battles are fought over small expanses of land, and the bases are almost always close together. Missions will involve rescuing fellow Natives/Vikings, killing off the opposing faction’s chief or destroying their base. The unit models are exaggerated and cartoon-like, dovetailing with the game’s playful theme.

The game itself isn’t very revolutionary, but I was drawn to the subtle innovations it introduced to base building and army creation. The first structure that has to be built is the Quarters, which produces more of the standard Peon unit. The cool thing is that once I selected the structure to build, the peons I started the map with dash off to begin cutting down trees and recovering the materials to build it. The Armory is the next structure that is required, which creates weapons and trains warriors. Though you don’t create “new” warrior units, you simply train existing peons to become warriors, and equip them with constructed weapons. But there’s no explicit resource collection required. The Armory menu allows you to select the amounts of materials you want to collect, the types of weapons you want to build and the types of warrior units you want to train. All materials are collected automatically, as long as you have peons to do the work. The trick early on in the game is to keep building a pool of peons who will be collecting materials, and have an amount left over to create warrior units. As long as the Quarters is still standing and there are a few peons inside, you will continue to receive peon units. It’s a very streamlined system, and allows you to focus on the action at hand.

Since the island maps are so small, it’s often a fight for resources at the beginning of the game. Once you’ve built up enough of an assault force, you send them over to the enemy base to attack. Indeed, the strategy is overly simplistic, but it offers enough of a challenge in the way that you’re constantly balancing resource collection, warrior training and launching attacks with the same pool of resources.

Tribal trouble may not break any new ground, but there’s still something to be said about the unpretentious gameplay that’s offered. Especially when compared with big-budget RTS titles that can easily be reduced to the same principles of total annihilation.

I originally set out to review Age of Empires III with regard to its application of history, because quite frankly the mechanics behind the game hadn’t changed much and the beautifully detailed graphics were nothing more than a smokescreen to obscure the shortcomings of the game beneath. Taking a period of time ripe with concepts that could be exploited for making an RTS with a deep economic system seemed so obvious. And yet Age of Empires III turned out nothing like that.

My disdain for the storyline in the single-player campaign and selective use of historical elements is covered in my review; there’s no need to reopen old wounds. Instead I want to focus on what could have been done to make Age of Empires III better. I don’t expect Ensemble to read this, but I wanted to get these thoughts down as a reminder to myself of why it was such a disappointment.

Playing skirmish mode regularly over the past month allowed me to become intimately aware of the game’s inner workings far away from the contrived campaign. Though even with the Home City the game felt too small, too limited in scope. A larger map to be conquered, complete with trade routes and valuable resources, could have been used to add purpose to each battle. Considering that the goal in every game played in skirmish mode is complete annihilation of your enemy, once you take away the powdered wigs and muskets it’s just another real-time strategy game. European explorers didn’t come to the New World to fight a war, they came to get rich. This is by far the game’s biggest oversight.

Age of Empires III is also incredibly hard. In a word: micromanagement. I’m all for building an Empire, but some tasks should be automated at the player’s discretion. The Civilization series, and Rise of Nations, do this well. I shouldn’t have to direct every single worker to collect a specific resource to keep them busy. If there are trees nearby, they should be cutting them down (Incidentally, wood seems to be the most important resource in the whole game). As a result, each battle is a balance between resource gathering, creating a defense to protect your assets, building up enough military to be able to strike back if necessary, or prepare for launching attack – a prospect that becomes less and less likely as you and your adversaries race through the Ages. It’s funny, but the times I was able to beat the game’s AI was in the Second or Third Ages, before technology had reached the point where it could be devastating and military units were still cheap to produce. As a result I often felt rushed, which is something I always hated about real time strategy. It becomes an exercise in learning shortcuts to churn out units one at a time, instead of formulating a cohesive and satisfying strategy.

There should have been more paths to victory, instead of the trivial pursuit of making war. I’m not kidding myself, though, because fighting to hold territory was a big part of the struggle for the New World for the Natives as well as the encroaching Europeans. But part of the reason was they had access to lucrative materials, land for agriculture – things that were worth their weight in gold (literally). So why couldn’t I exercise my power through economics? Forgetting the whole “meta-map” concept for a second, what if I was in control of all of the resources on the current battle map? What if I had installed trading posts over all of the trade routes on the maps? The trading posts on a route in the game only give you XP to level up your Home City, and don’t return any gold. It’s a weirdly abstract reward for something that should be self evident. They should be bringing in gold, or at least raw materials! The Marketplace is also an underutilized structure, because all you can do is trade one resource for another. There’s no need to get into the details of a trading simulation, but why such glaring limitations? One of the key aspects of colonizing the New World would have made this part of the game a lot more interesting, and opened up a whole new strategy based on territory control and economics.

I may have harshly judged the Card system, because it actually isn’t so bad if you’re in real need of a boost in materials or military units. However, I think the real strategy behind deck building is taking advantage of the unique cards to each civilization to give bonuses at key points during a battle. I used the French a lot, and found that their Cards relating to bonuses to Native units were extremely useful for building a fairly powerful army early on in the game. There are also some units you can only get as a result of having the associated card in your deck – the Field Surgeon, for example – but they seemed extraneous when you’re in a race to build an army the fastest. While there are many options for “turtling” (I built an amazing looking base once, complete with fortified walls and guard towers), it simply leads to a technological stalemate as you reach the later Ages.

The upcoming expansion due this Fall has been named “The WarChiefs”, and as I noted before will be introducing the Iroquois Confederation as a playable civilization. A recent interview at IGN with lead designer Sandy Peterson (that reads almost identically to one that appeared over a month ago at Worthplaying), says that “Ensemble has always tried to portray the ‘underdogs’…In effect we are now giving the native nations full control of history. So in some ways we’re empowering them.” Except that they’re not, because the Native civilizations are not being removed from the maps as villages that can be allied with. The new single player campaign still follows the fictional Black family of the original, but this time “hews much more closely to historical events. Thus, you will have members of the Black family involved in actual well-known happenings.” Well, let me think about this for a second, because I’m not sure if discovering the New World was an actual well-known happening. But I could be wrong. So are we going to get Dances with Wolves or Pocahontas, guys?

A lot of reviewers love to throw around words like “wasted potential”, but I think Age of Empires III is an ideal example of this qualifier. There is so much room for depth in this game, but it doesn’t seem to go beyond the superficial elements of real time strategy; things we’ve all seen before and have long since grown tired of. It’s a visually immaculate game, but that means absolutely nothing in the face of such disregard for its historical inspiration.

So I currently divide my game time between Age of Empires III, Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War and its Winter Assault expansion.

Firstly: Why Age of Empires III? It’s not like I enjoyed myself while playing it. Well, maybe I did once I started ignoring the idiotic story. I’ve now moved on to fighting the game’s unpredictable/stupid/cheating AI in skirmish mode, leveling up my home cities and building shipment card decks. I think the game’s disrespect for historical fidelity and eight year old gameplay has instilled in me a brand of indignation that won’t be satisfied until I determine exactly what went wrong with the game and how it could have been improved. I fully intend to share these findings.

About halfway through the Rebellion campaign in Empire at War, the initial novelty of the experience wore off and I was able to see more clearly. The engine used for the ground battles was actually pretty ugly when zoomed in. And I only felt confident that I would win a ground battle if I had entire legions of reinforcements waiting in orbit, because the tide of battle tended to turn very quickly once Imperial vehicles became involved. So it didn’t really feel like strategy. More like the management of armed forces. This has been done better.

At that point I decided to reinstall Dawn of War, a game I knew radiated the frenetic and visceral nature of frontline combat. I also used it as an excuse to check out the expansion released last year. I didn’t bother with the painfully short single player campaign; I went straight to skirmish mode. With the ground-based combat of Empire at War fresh in my mind I immediately noticed a few things: the battles had multiple, logical outcomes like complete annihilation or simply controlling points on the map; the combat was constantly in a fluid state and there were no breaks to reinforce units; and most importantly, the battles were almost always fast. The trouble with RTS is that it’s so focused on resource gathering that you end up fighting battles of attrition against your opponent: you attack, lose a few units, your opponent attacks and they lose a few. The armies regroup and the entire process begins again. In Dawn of War, you’d better have a strategy in place before you begin taking those control points, because you can lose ground as quickly as you’ve gained it. Dawn of War captured the essence of being a field commander. It deals in the currency of territory and strategic points. It has distanced itself from the economics of most RTS games, and revealed what is possible if combat was given precedence over the acquisition of arbitrary materials.