Okamiden or the well intentioned house guest that stayed a bit too long

You get the call. {EAV:845042aad297d746}


"Dude, it's Mike, Bob's little bro. I'm in town for a few and was wondering if could crash at your place?"


You think, sure, why not? Bob is great. Mike has to be as cool as Bob, right?


"Sure Mike. Come on over."


And that's how it starts, you let this guy you only half sort of know into your house to stay for a "few."

You see Mike is Okamiden, the plucky Nintendo DS sequelish of Bob, the beloved PS2 (and the slightly less beloved Wii) title Okami. You with me? Good.

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   *SPOILERS*

 Okamiden has plenty to live up to when being compared to Okami. But it seems to be up to the task from the start. The touch screen and stylus work better than the Wii remote could ever hope in Okami. The PS2 controls work well for Okamiden's predecessor, though it seemed to be fully realized as you portray the deity doggie in pocket form. There is a sense of satisfaction that I felt as the unspoken consciousness of the sun goddess's progeny, striking foes with a celestial brush. It just makes sense. It is almost as if the original game should have been on the DS had it the ability to capture the truly beautiful visuals.

Okami won me over with this key premise. That art can be used as a tool to make sense of the world. It can make it beautiful and frightening. It can be dangerous and renewing.

Okamiden also honors Okami by maintaining a semblance of its vivid visuals and sounds. It looks similar to Okami and plays similar than Okami, but there is something hiding beneath the surface. It just takes a while for it to rear its head.

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 You let Mike sleep on the couch. The first night is actually a lot of fun. He ponies up for pizza and beer. You hang out, share some stories, tell a few jokes. Bob's little brother is pretty cool. How long can a house guest stay? Right? A day or two and he'll be on his way. 

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So now begins your venture into Nippon. As the diminutive child god-dog of the heroine of the previous iteration you befriend other child heroes and travel across the land kicking up the sand.

Is it because this is a handheld game that the heroes have to be children? I moved forward, seeking out new powers for your god brush and helping the hapless as one does in adventure games.

But seriously. The adults in this game allow a puppy and children of the age of no more than eight years to help them. Fetch you your pottery old man? Whilst slaying all of these demons, you want me to also look for your earthenware? Okay. Fine. You better pray real hard if I find your bowl.

Ahem. Sorry. I did enjoy cleaning up the land. I loved helping the characters with there task mostly because the damn game is so cute. Draw a circle around a tree and blossoms appear, boom. Draw a circle around a patch of evil looking turf, bam. I am cleaning up Nippon. I feel pretty good.


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You head out to work the next day and Mike assures you he will look after place while you're at your place of employ. You head home expecting to say adieu to Bob's little bro, but he has ordered pizza and bought some more beer. Great. 


Another evening of similar jokes, stories and forced brouhaha. There were worse ways you could imagine spending the evening, but it feels a little disingenuous to keep laughing at the same jokes. He keeps referring to last night. 

"Remember how funny that was when I said that thing, last night?"


"Yes, Mike. That was funny."


It's fine. He'll be gone tomorrow, right?

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I make no qualms with sequels using what works in what defined the previous game. That wasn't even an issue. Out of nowhere this game about mysticism and magic, nature and faith, the truly charming stuff about the universe of the game, is dumped on. By the sloppy writing of one character. One character brings this admirable title to it knees.

 Like most of the characters in Okamiden, this character is  roughly a miniature version of a similar character in Okami (see Waka). But the Moon Tribe character Kurow annoys me. He took me completely out of the game. And the character isn't even a a kid. Its a doll.

This game is about an evil little Pinocchio. It was about a son of a goddess helping the land of Nippon, but now it is about a selfish little doll who jeopardizes everything because he is lonely. This is what happens when you try to write a story in a universe that was aptly conceived by someone else.

Hideki Kamiya has some chops. Great big chops. He is writer and director of Okami, he also directed Resident Evil 2, Devil May Cry and Viewtiful Joe.

Yukinori Kitajima wrote Okamiden. I can find nothing else that he has done. I am sure he is a fine individual. But he has no chops as far as I can tell. Why was this chop-less person allowed to write Okamiden? Why!?! <shakes fist>

I can see not investing time and effort into a DS title. I can see it not being worth their time over there at Capcom. But the lack of effort shows. I will say what I heard from all of my teachers in grade school. "He would do so much better if he would just put forth the effort."

Okamiden, you could have been something grand. You just needed a little polish. 
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You come home from work and the house is empty, but something is not right. You can hear the toilet running and water pooling outside the bathroom door. Mike took a monster dump and destroyed the toilet. He left your house like this. 


Bob would be so disappointed.
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 Well fine. Okamiden isn't really like someone took a dump in your toilet and let it over flow. It does have a lot of the charm of its predecessor. But not its weight. Not its beauty. It neglects the narrative of a deity that is trying to save the world through reviving nature. It is a thrifty version of its original title, but it didn't have to be.

Final thoughts: Okamiden is a valiant effort and emulates glimpses of the original's heart, however like boy puppet in the game who wants to be loved, it dies an empty death. Being forced to have compassion for a character so selfish, is trite. I wish I had a celestial brush to be able to erase this portion of the game, getting it closer to the majesty of the original.

Analog to Digital Gaming Just Got Interesting

I can't tell you how many hours I have spent plodding out new characters for Dungeons & Dragons. It is a constant obsession. For the past 15 years I have been playing with the same group of friends. It has been on again off again for that time, but we have always come back to the table. Some of us enjoy it more than others. Some of my fellow gamers enjoy Xbox Live multiplayer over the table top gaming world, but to each their own. Give me long, tactical battles that can be swayed by chance. Give me a chance to play a character that will cause eyes to roll or generate a laugh. At anytime we can stop the game, look at each other and recall a story from the week prior, order pizza, have a smoke or stop to watch the latest game preview.

Those benefits aside, let's talk about the shared storytelling or the interactive fiction involved with a tabletop role-playing game. As a group we have generated an incredible amount to content through this ritual. These stories are valuable. We can remember whose character unleashed the wrath of an ancient god or role-played out of a scripted fight. We did this communally.

I was hopeful when the massively multiplayer online roleplaying game appeared. I was so excited to share this experience in the realm of video games. I remember creating my first character in Everquest, he was an old befuddled High Elf Enchanter who liked to fish. I would play the game and interact with others as this character. But it seems I was doing it wrong, not to many people caught on and I couldn't level up as a "roleplayer." Countless mmorpgs have graced my pc, none have replicated the exhiliration I get when gaming with my friends around the table with pen and paper. They have generated new addictions and obsessions (thanks for those by the way) but it is not the same.

But now these guys come along:

If you are still not clear on this you should check out their Kickstarter donation page. It is simply amazing and ambitious and just god-damned clever. Go ahead, Ill wait for you to come back...

I hope these guys can make it happen. In fact, anyone who can, chip in $5 to this Kickstarter. Consider it my Christmas present.

I will be one the first ones to start the story rolling, who wants to be the hero?

Follow these ambitious fellows on the Twitter, @WrittenWorldHQ

Dusting it off...

It is no great surprise that I have been absent from this post. The boy is bustling with 8 months of energy and what little time I have is spent in Skyrim or lamenting not playing  Skyrim.

I did try the hardcore fan fiction thing with Torchlight, I honestly did. But my endeavor to play until I died lasted only so long. It happened like this:

I was adventuring through the depths of mines of Torchlight when suddenly...The baby cries. I look over to make he is okay, he is, I look back. I am dead. And the sad thing is I tried to start over, several times. Even though it wasn't within the preset, self-imposed rules, I started over. The baby cries, I look, he is fine, I look back and on Torchlight, dead.

Alas, this the life of gamer dad with an infant son.

Though the game of trying figure out my boy is by far the most challenging. He is constantly evolving puzzle that offers little clues to its solution. But the rewards are amazing. Right now he has figured out how to zombie crawl, down right cute, especially when he is terrorizing the dog.

Anyhow, I struggle to eek out sometime to play Skyrim. My elder Orc Shaman type has just felled his second dragon. The game is simply amazing. Yay, Bethesda.

Now with more fire!

Fwoosh!! The crackling ball of flame sizzled as it struck the slime, leaving quivering molten mess. Fwoosh!!! The crackling ball of flame scorched the narrow mine walls as the light of flaming death was reflected in the eyes of the batlike varkolyn. Fwoosh!!! The crackling ball of flame singed the ratlin fur, softening it for the Vanquisher’s arrows.

Renza began to see the benefit of teaching Chevron his new trick. Though his new found enthusiasm was getting a little exhausting, Renza appreciated the extra firepower from her four legged companion.  They had scoured the third level looking for Brink to avail. Chevron looked disappointedly at the last of the smoldering corpses before him, then up to Renza. ‘More,’ he thought.

Then the sound of battle echoed once more just further down the tunnel. Chevron bolted as soon as Renza moved, summoning the arcane fire with a growl that would turn into a bark. The narrow tunnel led into a larger chamber with a rope railing, guarding against accidental falls. Lower levels could be seen faintly glowing by lantern light in the the depths beneath Torchlight. The square-jawed Brink clanked his blade against a very unhappy stone troll. The troll brought a powerful fist down the mercenary’s shield. The force of the blow buckled Brink’s legs from under him. Renza volleyed a hail of arrows into the monster. The troll roared in pain, pulling the arrows from its thick hide. Chevron let loose with his fireball, causing the stone troll to flinch. Brink gathered himself and slashed at the troll’s hamstring, dropping it to its knees. 

Renza landed several shots in the troll’s neck as Brink finished the beast off with powerful swing to the back of its head.

Brink looked at the fallen troll then at Renza. “ Did Syl send you after me? She must have thought I was in over my head again. Well she’s right, these monsters are getting stronger and I could use your help. I’m going after the fiend that was attacking Syl on the bridge, will you join me?”

Renza grinned and said not without innuendo, “For the right price, my bow is yours.”

Chevron rolled his eyes.

Fire it up, fire it up!

Dankness assaulted Renza before anything else in when she entered the mine. The clickety-clack of the mine elevator echoed down the shaft. As the elevator shuttered to a halt Chevron gave a quick whimper. It was going to be a long time before he would breathe clean air.

Renza could see several miners in the low lantern light.  In spite of the onslaught of ratlins and rock trolls, the miners continued their work. That was is the power of Ember. Without Ember, the town of Torchlight would be less than marginalized; it would cease to exist.

The Vanquisher and her companion moved cautiously through the mine. ratlins skulked in the darkness but were sniffed out by Chevron. Renza’s arrows found their mark, but the she could hear many more were the came from. She continued further in the mine and came upon group of ratlins who had a miner cornered. The burly but exhausted miner swung his pick ax clobbering one of the rat creatures, but the creatures continued to press the miner with attacks from their crudely sharpened weapons. The Vanquisher took a second to measure her opening shot. The arrow pierced the throat of the first ratlin, then bounced off the now gurgling creature into his unsuspecting neighbor. Not quite dead, the ratlin turned to face Renza, only to find Chevron at his throat. The miner smashed another ratlin as another ricocheted shot dropped the rest of the small gang of rat men.

The miner thanked Renza. He said he saw a crazed man chase a group of creatures down to the lower levels just moments ago. Renza took a second to look over the corpses of the ratlins. A bit of gold, a potion and a scroll were among the spoils. Renza disliked magic. While she understood its usefulness, she preferred her bow. Though Chevron could not speak, he was attuned to magic. It was not unheard of for such companions to be able to learn a magic spell or two. Renza looked at the scroll then at her dog, then at the scroll. The rough parchment had an ornate drawing of ball of flame in the midst of the magic mumbo jumbo.  Against her better judgment, she gave the scroll to Chevron.

Chevron’s eyes scanned the scroll, and the images on the parchment vanished.

‘Now I can set them on fire? Most excellent.’

Miners not minors...

The story of Renza continues...

“Taste arrow death!” shouted Renza as she charged into Torchlight. But no one was there to sample her offering of pointed demise. The town was relatively vacant save for the few merchants who began to peek out from behind their stalls. An elderly man dusted off his cap, glancing up to see the Vanquisher’s puzzled face. He arched his brow and pointed to the other end of town.  

Renza dashed off with Chevron at her heels, fresh corpses of villagers and beasties littered the streets. The Vanquisher followed the now clear sounds of battle. The mouth the mine could be seen and two humans battling a mess of furry faced Ratlins. A square-jawed man bashed the whiskered  face of a red eyed rat-man with his shield. The dazed creature was then made a pin cushion by Renza's arrows, dropping it in dead heap.  The other human was magically blocking the bridge that led into town from the mine with ball of crackling force. Chevron took off and began snap his jaws at a cave troll as Renza continued her volley,  quickly launching several arrows into mix dropping two of the small  rat creatures in the rear of the mob. The melee ended, but the man chased after the retreating monsters. The dark haired woman quickly introduced herself as Syl. She pleaded with Renza to follow her friend into the mines. She went on about her Master or some such, but all Renza heard was the part where she said,  

"I can pay you well. Please catch up with Brink before he gets himself killed." 

Renza chased after Brink into the Orden Mines in Torchlight, grinning. 'Shortest. Interview. Ever.'

Can you tell me how to get, how to get to...Torchlight?

As I recently stated on the podcast (Lobbycast ep. 121) I am attempting a fun little self-imposed writing assignment. I have started yet another playthrough of Torchlight on hard AND hardcore (permanent death). I will be writing a sort of character journal, a bit of the ol' roleplaying if you will. So pull up a chair and welcome to Lou's Storytime Lunch Break-

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The Vanquisher

Meet Renza the Vanquisher

Renza had to pee. She really, really had to pee. The floodgates were being knocked with each footstep. Torchlight was just up the road so she didn’t want a denizen of the boomtown to catch her with skirt down. ‘I am a Vanquisher. I am the Baroness of Bows, Radiant Countess of Revolvers. I can snipe a ratlin’s wart from across a field. Now please let me finish my tinkle,’ was something she didn’t want to deal with so early in her prospective employment. The Vanquishers had standards, and public urination was not among them, at least not chiefly.

Her short-legged companion trotted alongside her obediently. His fur was matted and his breathe wreaked of dog, but he was an excellent co-worker. He was always ready for his shift, carried his (and Renza’s) load and worked for table scraps. She called him Chevron, for he was like an insignia of honor and loyalty. He called her Jiggly. He was bred to be an adventurer’s pet infused with hyper intelligence. Hyper intelligent for a dog is still not that far from the cognitive capacities of a 12 year old boy. And she did wear a leather corset very well. Give the dog a break.

 It’s not like he could talk, but Renza felt that her scruffy companion did occasionally eye her too intently to be comfortable. She would just distract him by saying, “you wanna get the ball? Get the ball Chevron, get the ball,” only to throw the classic invisible object. Magically enhanced mutt or not, dogs love balls.

The lovely Vanquisher squirmed the last few paces until she saw Torchlight; the town where the Ember flows like water. Ember, that magic and rare ore that can be used to imbue crafted items with great power or corrupt the most pious heart. However things did not seem well in Torchlight the day that Renza first arrived and it didn’t look like it was going to get any better any time soon. The town was under attack.

Renza looked down at Chevron and said, “Pee first, then, we battle!”