Category Archives: PC
The summer of Ultima VI
When I was a kid, my whole life was turned upside down when my parents divorced (don’t worry…this isn’t going to be a “my parents never loved me” kind of post). It was a series of typical events that I’m sure many of you can relate to, so I won’t delve into the superfluous details. Suffice it to say that my father ended up getting his own apartment, and my brother, Jasen and I were subjugated to required weekend visits twice a month. There wasn’t a whole lot to do during the weekends we spent with our father. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a “hands-on” kinda dad, and would mostly spend his time locked away in his bedroom watching TV, leaving my brother and I to our own devices.
While we did have a Nintendo console, it remained chained to the single television which was usually in my dad’s control. However, there was an old IBM x286 that sat in a relatively empty office room, and somehow that became the center of our world during those weekends. There were two of us and only one computer, and miraculously, instead of fighting over it (which we were prone to do), we learned to compromise and share.
One of the few games that we had at our immediate disposal was Ultima VI: The False Prophet. Jasen and I quickly devised a system of game play that satisfied us both. He being older (by a year and a half) would be the captain and I would be the navigator. This meant that he actually got to control the game, while I sat next to him and helped steer the course. Four days out of every month would find us sitting in our respective chairs; my brother at the helm and myself to his right, clutching a pen and notebook as we immersed ourselves in the world of Britannia.
Ultima VI did not have an in-game map, quest journal, nor any of the other features that you find in today’s games. When entering dialogue with NPC’s, certain words would be flagged in red that indicated more information would be available on that topic. If you weren’t paying attention, it could be relatively easy to miss something good. But thankfully, there were two sets of eyes and we rarely missed anything. One of my jobs was to catalog all of the topic keywords, while my brother typed them in. I coordinated our quests, while Jasen guided the Avatar through them. When we entered a dungeon, I dutifully sketched maps of the area so we wouldn’t get lost, while my brother controlled the combat with the various dungeon inhabitants.
This might sound tedious to some folks, but for me, it was a hell of a lot of fun. And although I didn’t realize it, or truly comprehend this until much later in life, I really learned some valuable things that summer, hovering around a computer screen. Through our cooperative method, I honed the keen attention to detail that I’ve carried with me throughout my life. I got to spend time with my big brother (who I secretly idolized, even though he gave me indian burns and endless noogies). To top it all off, I soaked in the abstract concepts of teamwork and compromise, and working together to achieve something.
In time, we beat the game, and our temporary alliance would end. That summer brought a truce between siblings who were often at odds with one another, although adulthood thankfully brought the growing pains of sibling rivalry to a close. And I can definitely look back now and count those hours spent gaming with my brother as one of my most fun, and most memorable gaming experiences of all time.
I’d love to hear about your favorite gaming moments, so please feel free to take a moment and drop a comment below. Happy gaming!
I credit my high WPM to Sierra
When I type, my fingers dance across the keyboard like a trailblazing cowboy. I didn’t develop mad typing skills in keyboarding class…my Keystroke Kata began well before school required that as a part of the daily curriculum. And I owe it all to Sierra.
The early text-based adventure games like Quest for Glory (originally dubbed Hero’s Quest), King’s Quest, and…ahem…Leisure Suit Larry really helped to shape my typing techniques because this style of game required you to input verb commands in order to progress and complete quests. As the graphics technology of this era were limited (but still awesome), you couldn’t always get an in-depth view of your surroundings. Commands such as “look around” or “look at” followed by what you wanted to examine returned an in game pop-up panel that gave you a literary description of what you were actually looking at.
The early Sierra games really required you to think. You drove the story with your commands, and so you had to think about what or how you wanted to do something, tell the game what you wanted to do, and make it happen (or not – depending on your command). The text parser system within these games translated your command inputs into something the game could understand, making it easier for the player to react to the game’s response. For instance, if you issued the command, “get the gold key”, the game would strip the input and understand “get key”, resulting in your character picking up the key in the game.
The game developers at Sierra had a quirky sense of humor that often coincided with the players themselves. You could enter in some not-so-politically-correct commands and the game would provide humorous admonishments about your lack of manners. I can clearly recall one instance in Quest for Glory where I instructed my character to “pee on bush” (come on…I was 12) and the parser responded with “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Sometimes this would turn into a personal conquest to determine how many insults I could fling at the game and get a response for.
When it comes down to the nitty-gritty, the complexity behind these early adventure games was almost mind-boggling when you stop to think about it. Every interaction, every consequential combination of objects, all of these aspects had to be carefully planned and coordinated by the game’s designer. The designer not only had to plan out the story’s sequence, but how the multitude of players would play the game and interact with the world. At some point, the designers of Quest for Glory anticipated the juvenile requests exploring the possibility of urinating in the woods.
The cool thing about text-based games is that you were really drawn into the game on an interactive level. These games weren’t just about mashing buttons mindlessly. They were about putting together the bits and pieces, unraveling the story one step at a time. You had to apply reason and conscious thought – if you got stuck on a puzzle, you couldn’t just Google the answer. However, on the flip-side of button mashing, if you were at the mercy of a non-intuitive puzzle, oftentimes you would end up typing out every combination of interactions with every item in your inventory. It’s tough to be the only kid in your sixth-grade class with carpal tunnel.
The introduction of mouse-driven game engines saw the decline of the text-based adventure game era. But thanks to games such as the hit titles in the Sierra lineup, it only took me 29.6 seconds to type this blog post.