Tag: Gaming (page 5 of 41)

Cadmon’s Journal: First Entry

Courtesy Wiki of Ice and Fire

Please note: All characters, locations and events are copyright George RR Martin and the events that take place during this tale can and will deviate from series canon.

Now that I have time where I am not on the road or dealing with immediate threats, it occurs to me I should put down some record of my thoughts and travels. I know I am a bastard. I know that my account may not matter to many or amount to much in any end equation. Yet I still feel compelled to put ink to paper in the form of some record of this journey I find myself upon. Maybe some future bastard staring down a life of derision and bleak prospects will find something of use in these words.

My name is Cadmon Storm. My mother is Rhiannon Penrose, a serving girl at Storm’s End. She did not tell me, during my childhood years, who my father is. I learned later that she wished me to grow up free of expectation or ambition, to have as normal a childhood as possible. But given that I was born a few short years before Robert’s Rebellion, my childhood is not what anyone would consider ‘normal.’

Few children wished to associate with me of their own will. They kept to themselves, to lessons with the maester and the septons. I found myself the unwilling recipient of several beatings by my peers, I’m assuming under the guise of learning my place as a bastard in a great House. I often would sneak free of the castle to wander amongst the villagers, and then down to the docks not far from Storm’s End. The salty folk who made their living there had much more tolerance for a bastard and I found myself spending more and more time there.

I had gotten into the habit of learning all I could. My mother encouraged this, always sneaking a little food from the kitchens for when I returned from my wanderings. Despite not having the focused instruction of the trueborn children of Storm’s End, I picked up a few things on life at court, the lot of servants and the trades of the sea. I watched the swordplay in secret by day, and practiced down by the waters of the Narrow Sea at night. One of these practice sessions lead to what was the first pivotal moment of my young life.

I’d found a broken oar handle, just long enough for my little hands to grip and swing properly. I was six, maybe seven. I’d paused in my usual trek down to the docks to practice what I’d seen the previous day on a sturdy oak not far off the road. One could see Storm’s End from the docks and vice versa, so it wasn’t uncommon for the children of the servants in the castle to run errands while the servants worked. One of those children, a girl with two or three name days on me, was coming up from the docks with a basket of onions. A boy older than us both was walking down from the castle, wearing the azure & sable colors of House Trant. He was looking up at the trees and the girl was minding her basket, which is how they collided.

“Clumsy idiot!” The boy was spitting leaves as he got to his feet.

“I’m so sorry!” The girl scrambled, trying to collect all of the spilled onions.

“You’ve struck the son of a noble house! Do you know what that means? My father is going to flog you within an inch of your life!”

He seized her arm and she gasped in pain. One of her onions rolled up against my foot. I bent and picked it up with my left hand, the oar handle in my right. I may have been a boy, but even then I knew right from wrong. And letting this pompous wet-nosed ass harm an innocent if somewhat clumsy girl was wrong.

“Let her go.”

They both turned and stared at me and the boy just squeezed her harder.

“I know you. You’re that bastard boy who’s always skulking around. Go back to the woods, bastard, before I have my father flog you too.”

“He’s not here.”

He blinked at me. “What?”

“Your father isn’t here. Neither is mine. We’re both bastards out here.”

He spat, releasing the girl to draw a dagger from his belt. In his hand it was nearly a shortsword. “You take that back!”

I raised my ‘sword’ the way I’d seen them do in the courtyard a hundred times. “Make me.”

The girl, grasping onto a modicum of sense, grabbed her basket of onions and ran. The boy snarled and lunged at me. I backed up, moving to one side. He followed me and kept trying to stick me with his knife. It was on his seventh attack that it occurred to me that I’d seen this, too. One boy lunged, the other stepped to one side and hit them. Once an instructor had aimed his blow at the oncoming sword-arm, to knock the blade away. I did the same, bringing my oar handle down with both hands. The boy made a very unmanly shrieking noise and dropped his dagger, only to swing at me with his free hand. He punched me in the throat and for a moment I was unable to breathe. He jumped on me, forcing me to the ground, and started punching my face.

“STOP!”

The boy didn’t stop. I felt my nose break under his fist. Large hands pulled him away from me. I was helped to my feet, still gripping my makeshift weapon and the girl’s onion. Several men dressed for the sea were trying to make sense of our melee, and one in the middle, wearing a black surcoat and drumming shortened fingers on his crossed arm, had an expression that demanded an explanation.

“He hit me!” The boy was still shrieking. “The bastard hit me!”

“Better me than the girl.” My jaw hurt. Talking hurt. I did it anyway, wiping blood from my face with the back of my right hand. “He was going to have a girl beaten for running into him. He wasn’t watching where he was going.”

“Liar!”

“Enough, both of you.” The man with the shortened hand looked from me to the boy and back again, then over his shoulder at the girl. “I think what we have here is an accident and a misunderstanding. Girl, apologize to the young Trant for running into him.”

“Forgive me.” Her voice was timid, unsure.

“Never!” The boy pulled away from the hands holding him. “You cost me my dagger! It was a gift from my father!”

“This little girl disarmed you?”

“No!” He thrust out his jaw at the man, pointing angrily at me. “The bastard did! He stole my dagger! He’s a thief!”

The man knelt so that he was eye-to-eye with the boy and his voice became more quiet and more menacing. “I know from thievery, boy. If he’d stolen it he’d be away from here as fast as his little legs could carry him. But here he stands.” He glanced at the ground, found the small dagger and handed it to the boy. “I think you’re making a hurricane out of a storm cloud, and what’s more, you’re making a fool of yourself.”

The boy opened his mouth, then closed it again. His fingers tightened around the dagger, holding it close to his chest. He thrust his jaw out again but tears welled in his eyes. “It’s not fair! He’s a bastard! I should be right!”

“Life isn’t fair, boy.”

At that, the trueborn dagger-lover burst into tears and bolted for the castle. The man stood and shook his head, then looked at me. His eyes flicked to the onion in my hand, then the oar handle.

“What’s your name?”

“Cadmon.”

“Well, Cadmon, we’d best do something about that nose. It’ll heal crooked otherwise.”

Before I could protest, he seized the end of my nose with his shortened fingers and tugged it back into place. It hurt so badly I passed out on the spot.

That’s how I met Ser Davos Seaworth.

Second Entry

The Art of Thor: Ah, The Power of Cheese

Courtesy Blizzard
“Hmm… that Probe looks suspicious. I better question it. With my gun.”

“Speed is the essence of war. Take advantage of the enemy’s unpreparedness; travel by unexpected routes and strike him where he has taken no precautions.”

This concept will be nothing new for StarCraft players. On a conceptual level, things of this nature have existed since gaming began. From the shark at the blackjack table to the RPG player grinding a particular area over & over again, gamers like to game and some especially like to game the system. Sometimes, this is referred to as cheating or exploiting. StarCraft has a particular term for it. They call it cheese.

Cheese is a strategy for opening a game that looks to take advantage of a timing or mechanics advantage you might have over your opponent. While it’s not the same as going all-in on a particular strategy, if your cheese fails you can end up at a severe disadvantage economically. Many cheeses also involve a measure of micro-management, pulling your focus away from establishing the foundation for longer play. If you invest in cheese up-front and don’t follow up with a solid mid-game, your clever strategy might actually become the reason you lose the game.

Let me give you an example from each race.

Protoss: Proxy Pylon

The basic infantry units of the Protoss – Zealots, Stalkers, etc – are produced at Gateways, which can be converted to Warp Gates. When they become Warp Gates, the buildings can teleport units into play anywhere the Protoss have built a Pylon. Pylons require minimal investment, can be built anywhere and, like all Protoss buildings, do not require a Probe to be present while completing construction.

The cheese in this comes when the Protoss player builds a Pylon far from his home, in or near the enemy base. On some maps, the geography allows the Pylon to sit out of the enemy’s sight while its power grid, the area which powers Protoss buildings & provides space for the aforementioned units to warp in, intrudes into the enemy base. A Protoss player can warp in units at his leisure or even build Plasma Cannons to destroy their opponent’s economy, wreck their buildings and generally be a nuiscance.

Terran: Planetary Fortress Rush

It may seem a bit silly, but a Terran player can use their initial base structure as an offensive unit. The Command Center has the option to be upgraded to either an Orbital Command or a Planetary Fortress. The latter upgrade beefs the building up with layers of armor and adds a pair of cannons on a turret on top. After upgrading to the Planetary Fortress, the building cannot lift off again as most Terran buildings do.

The thrust of this opening is for the Terran player to build a second Command Center as soon as possible, float it into the enemy base, drop it in place with a few SCVs for repairs and upgrade directly to the Planetary Fortress. After the enemy workers have been eliminated, the Terran player’s own workers can acquire the resources of the enemy base while the Fortress blasts anything that tries to take it down. It is meant to capitalize more on psychological impact than any practical issues like longer game strategy or unit counters.

Zerg: Zergling Rus

It’s a StarCraft tradition. The Zerg rush has been used so often and so effectively that the term has seeped into other games and aspects of culture. Zerglings are the least costly of the initial starting units of all three races, and the nature of Zerg unit production allows for many of the units to be produced at once. Take a bunch of these little guys, produced as quicly as possible, and point them in the general direction of whatever you want consumed.

The basic strategy is alive, well, and relatively unchanged from the original game. The Zerg player puts down a Spawning Pool with all due haste. The initial batch of Zerglings then speed their way to the enemy base. A half-dozen Zerglings can absolutely gut the economy of an unwary player in the very early game. It relies on quick scouting and constant unit production.

Beating Cheese

Getting around cheese is actually relatively simple. Maintain strong macro, scout your base and move aggressively against any encroachment. If you are constantly building units, even the most basic fighters, most early opening cheese won’t lost too long. Keep a unit, be it a builder or something more robust, peeking out from your base and coming back just to make sure the enemy doesn’t get any bright ideas. And if you do see a builder or a couple units whistling innocently as they approach our base, stomp them as quickly as possible. That shoul take care of most cheese, but sometimes, you just won’t get your placement exactly right and those Zerglings will slip through, or you’ll scout your entire perimeter only to just miss the Pylon about to dispense unpleasantness on your buildings. Keep playing & practicing, and it’ll happen less often.

The Art of Thor: Build to Attack

Courtesy Blizzard Entertainment
You don’t build stuff like this just because it looks cool.

There is no instance of a nation benefiting from prolonged warfare.

It’s tempting to get ahead of ourselves. It’s why folks rack up debt.

In the context of StarCraft 2, though, you may begin to think that what you’re doing in the process of learning macro skills is boring. You see live casts and replays of pro gamers, seeing the builds they use very effectively. You want to do the same, because they win and because it’s more interesting than what you need to do to build fundamental skills.

Stop that.

I humbly refer you back to these two entries in which I talk about what you should be building and how often you should be spending your resources. If you do this, over and over again until at least a couple promotions have gone by, you’ll be laying a stronger foundation for pulling off those daring gambits you see the pros execute. If you focus instead on some other strategy, you may get past Bronze or even Silver, but the higher ranks are going to be more of a frustration. Experienced players are already well-prepared for your cheese.

So you’re building basic units, builders and the means to keep building both. What do you do with them, though? Should they stand around your base protecting your pretty buildings? It can be an effective defense, sure, and if you want to play that way, go for it.

In my humble opinion, however, the quickest way to end the fight is through direct, uncompromised aggression.

As long as your production buildings are humming along and churning out more units, there’s no reason not to send the bulk of the units you’ve already built up your opponent’s ramp. Especially in, say, the first six minutes of the game. Before they can reasonably get any sort of high-tech response mounted, you should make them spend their resources on replacing whatever you manage to destroy. You can’t do that staying at home.

Now, I’m not saying you should follow every move your units make. At low levels, micro-management isn’t nearly as important as macro skills. But if your forces manage to past their defenses, there’s no reason not to direct them to the mineral line. Be it in their starting base or an expansion, blasting workers slows down their economy and is annoying as hell. While they recover their lost time and units, you’re building away for an even bigger assault.

Worried they’ll do the same? You should be. But if you’re building as much as you should, constantly producing units and ensuring you have enough food for everybody, the assaults your opponent mount in response should not do a great deal of damage. You might lose a few units but you have more on the way.

If your opponent gets behind you with air units or some sort of stealth attack, chances are you haven’t been attacking enough. It takes time to get air units, time you could be spending sending ever-growing waves of basic infantry against them to distract, harass, inhibit and destroy.

Sure, you’ll play the occasional hour-long macro game, with top-tier units slugging it out while you trade bases. But you learn little from such experiences. Quick wins, and quick losses as well, teach us a lot more about the strengths and weaknesses in our styles of play. Learn these lessons well, refine your style as much as possible, and just keep building and attacking.

It’s the advice I’ve gotten and am trying to follow. I’m sure it’ll get me out of Bronze league.

Someday. Hopefully before Heart of the Swarm gets here.

An Open Letter to Blizzard Entertainment

Courtesy WoWHead and sorronia
*sniff*

Dear Blizzard Entertainment,

I’ve been a fan of your work since the days of Warcraft 2. I’ve played games in all three of your major IPs and enjoyed every one. I’ve begun playing StarCraft 2 in a competitive sense (even though I suck) and I’ve watched the development of Diablo 3 with interest. However, I have let my World of Warcraft subscription lapse, and in light of the latest major patch, I doubt I’ll be re-subscribing any time soon.

When I pay for World of Warcraft every month, my expectation is not that the game will be exactly what I want. My expectation is that the game will allow me to explore the extensive world you’ve created, interact with like-minded players and face challenges in the form of dungeons and raids. It’s that last part that’s been lacking for some time now. Cataclysm began with some promising steps in the right direction, but in light of many, many complaints from some of the more vocal members of the community, you have taken World of Warcraft down a path I can no longer follow.

I’m reminded of a scene from the movie The 13th Warrior. Antonio Banderas is traveling with a band of Vikings looking to protect their homes from vicious savages, and one of the Vikings gives him a large sword. “I cannot lift this,” says Banderas’ character. The Viking shrugs and says with a smirk, “Grow stronger.” The solution to the problem is not handed to Banderas; instead he must find the solution for himself. Granted, he eventually has the sword shaved down to a scimitar-like size and balance, allowing him to use speed he possesses instead of strength he does not, but it was still a solution he developed on his own.

Instead of letting your players grow stronger or adapt to face the challenges you present on their own terms, you’ve swapped the big heavy sword for a butter knife.

By lowering the difficulty of encounters, you do several things that I feel will be to the ultimate detriment of the game. You remove the challenge that is part of the appeal of dungeon and raid encounters. You encourage players to be lazy and not improve their skills. Most importantly, you foster the notion that a player or group of players who complain loudly enough about something they feel is unfair or to which they feel entitled will gain them what they want, without them having to expend any real effort. Get a bunch of like-minded friends together, post on the forums about how unfair or overpowered or unbalanced something is, and next thing you know stuff is less difficult and it’s easier for you play. It’s magic!

I’ve been frustrated by encounters before. I’ve gotten into absolute fits over not being able to clear a particular boss. I’ve been short with guildmates, yelled at my wife, startled pets. But not once did I think any of my difficulties needed to be fixed with a wave of Blizzard’s magic wand. No, my frustration came from the idea that my skills were not good enough, so I would need to improve them. I can be impatient, and crave my shinies just as much as any other adventurer in Azeroth, but I want to earn them, not have them handed to me. Developing the skills to earn something is difficult and time-consuming, not to mention carrying the possibility of failure.

Rather than letting players fail more often, you lower the requirements for success to near insignificance. I know I’m not the only player who feels this way, but as I don’t complain regularly my voice is one of the many that goes unheard. These concerns and worries go unspoken, because we’d rather work on our problems within our own reach rather than wave our arms in hysteria and grab attention, screaming as soon as we have it until we get what we want.

I was hoping to come back to World of Warcraft soon. I met my wife there, after all. But I’ve realized you can’t hope for things to go back to the way they were. I met my wife during The Burning Crusade, long before this sense of entitlement crept into the player base and the development team was producing multiple raid dungeons for every tier of progressive content. We had a great guild that worked well together, from role-playing to raiding, and it was a great time we’ve thoroughly enjoyed.

But those days are gone. And no matter how fondly I might recall them, wishing for a thing does not make it so. You have decided that a vocal minority demanding you change is more important than the majority of the player base who want to progress, improve and succeed on their own merits. I feel this is an incorrect decision, and all I can do is call attention to the whys and wherefores of my own decision not to return to World of Warcraft. I hope I have done so and that this criticism is taken in the spirit with which it’s written.

I will continue to play StarCraft 2, but I must admit to being wary of doing so. I am aware that many of the official forums for that game are also full of complaints about balance issues and how one unit is more overpowered than another, how this matchup is unwinnable or that one needs a nerf. I’m also now nervous about Diablo 3. While I still look forward to playing it when it launches, I fear that within a month of its release players will complain that a boss is too hard and your response will be to lower its difficulty until all challenge and excitement from the encounter is lost, reducing the experience to the repetative process of “click enemy once, recieve loot.”

I’m certain that Blizzard Entertainment is not overly concerned with the complaints of a single customer who will no longer be using a particular service of theirs. It’s entirely possible that this rather verbose dissertation on the state of the game will fall on deaf ears and go largely unread by anyone in a position to correct the course World of Warcraft has taken. I accept that, yet I could not let my feelings go unvoiced. It is my hope that as I and others of a like mind try to bring this very real and unfortunate situation to light, you might understand the position we are in and look into ways to make World of Warcraft great again. I guarantee you’ll see players coming back if you make the right decisions for the sake of the game, rather than pandering to players who feel entitled to their loot instead of being willing to work for it.

Thank you for the years of entertainment. I wish you nothing but success.

Yours very sincerely,
Josh Loomis

The Art of Thor: Don’t Panic!

Courtesy Blizzard & the StarCraft wiki
Choose your moves carefully.

To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.

It’s difficult not to panic when you’re being shot at.

It may seem an obvious statement, and I don’t wish to downplay the severity of real-world situations in which soldiers, police officers and the occasional innocent bystander find themselves involving supersonic hunks of metal flying at them. But as StarCraft 2 is a wargame, and wars involve combat, it’s important to remember that combat is going to happen at times inconvenient for you. When our operations get interrupted in real life, we get annoyed. When it happens in a competitive situation, we can get nervous. And when it happens in ways that involve fire and blood, we can panic.

It takes practice, but you can work to downplay this natural reaction, to channel that nervous energy into productive activities. I’m not going to claim to be an expert on this, but there are steps I’ve taken to minimize the impact of the enemy’s plans upon mine, anticipating his moves and doing useful things as much as possible.

Know It’ll Happen

You’re going to get attacked. Things you build will blow up. Your troops are going to die.

It happens all the time. As Terran playing Protoss or Zerg, it’s common to wall off your ramp with a couple Depots and a Barracks. If the alien player’s on the ball, some basic units are going to run up the ramp and start taking shots at your buildings. Depending on your rate of production, you may only have a couple of Marines to defend. It’s a situation that’s bound to happen, so anticipate it if you can.

Likewise, when you gather up enough forces to send against your opponent, they might be ready for it. You might be able to scout them, using scans or spies, and build an appropriate response, but you might get attacked yourself in the meantime. Either way, if you anticipate potentially negative outcomes to your actions, their impact will be less shocking.

So if these things are going to happen, how can we prepare and respond?

Gather Intelligence

From the basic builder scout at the start of the game to the cloaked unit just outside the opponent’s front door keeping an eye on his massive forces, intelligence is essential to anticipating what’s coming next. A Drone, Probe or SCV zipping around the opposing opening base can give you an inkling as to what they’re thinking, and if you tech your way to a cloaked spy or use another, less costly means of observation (a Supply Depot on high ground for example), you can see attacks coming a mile away.

As your play improves you can also use this to your advantage. If your opponent zips into your base and sees you going for a particular build, don’t be afraid to change gears on him. And if you attack with a specific unit or group of units and he musters a defense in response, shift to a different type of unit or attack to render his intelligence moot.

Maintain Production

This goes back into the basics I’ve addressed previously. Always be building something. New means of maintaining your army’s supply, tech for your units and new supplements to your existing forces are all good things to invest in. As your macro skills grow, you will find it easier to do this even in the middle of battle.

An exercise I recommend that helped my macro skills greatly isn’t necessarily a winning one, but it might surprise you. Practice hotkeying your buildings and switching between them to check your status, and when you attack, use the minimap without watching the fight. I know, it’ll be more difficult to see and anticipate what your opponent is doing which directly contradicts what I said in the previous section, but bear with me. Hotkey your main base and production buildings (I put my Command Centers on 4 and Barracks on 5), switch between them and keep pumping out your basic units. When you feel you have an adequate number, for example with your first 4 Marines, use your minimap to A-move your forces to the enemy base.

As they move out, stay focused on your base. Keep producing units even when your expeditionary force comes under attack. Chances are, by the time the last one has expired, you’ve built twice as many troops. Send those. Keep building and expanding, again, without watching the battles. Attack, lather, rinse, repeat.

I did this after I ended up in Bronze, for a few matches. I was surprised how often my opponents would GG after my fourth or fifth push. Watching replays, it was clear they were trying to tech into a clever solution or were focused on what my Marines were doing, instead of maintaining their production. They panicked, and it was their downfall.

Now, since then, I’ve panicked a few times. Its a natural reaction, and you can’t always prevent it. All I can say is the more you practice, the more you can minimize this reaction. If you know an attack is going to come, get a notion as to where it’ll come from and build constantly to respond in kind, even if you feel a jolt of panic when they start chewing your brave soldiers faces off you can probably fight your way through it. The more you do this, the more success you’ll have and the faster you’ll rise through the leagues in StarCraft 2.

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