Another Earth, Another Sky, the second installment of the popular Earth and Sky series, is a significant step up from its predecessor in terms of technical sophistication. Object implementation is complete but not very deep, matching a relatively spare descriptive style for locations. What stands out most is the "situational implementation" -- the game's bug-free logic is prepared for a wide variety of actions that the player character (Earth) might take, or might ask the key NPC (Sky) to do.
This attention to scenario detail was atypical at the time, and the game was exceptionally well-received. Not only did it win the 2002 IF Comp, it received 2nd place in the comp's Miss Congeniality rankings and was later nominated for five XYZZY awards (winning only Best Use of Medium). This last is almost certainly due to the use of comic-book style graphical elements (title cards and onomatopoeia-based "sound effects"), an affordance of the Glulx virtual machine that was still little-used at the time.
Unlike the first installment, which sweeps the player along quite quickly, this episode has a slower and more contemplative pace. The bulk of the action occurs in three parts: (Spoiler - click to show)a short investigation at an abandoned cabin, a much longer investigation on an unusual artificial planetoid, and a brief climax and denouement. The second portion will take up the bulk of the playtime, consisting of one long puzzle about gaining access to the endgame. The scenario is designed such that you must explore the entire area to find the pieces that you need, creating a "travelogue" type of experience that encourages you experience the sights, sounds and smells of the various geographical sections. Sprinkled through this are various optional discoveries that let the thorough player unravel the mystery that serves as a plot, but a full explanation will be provided before the cliffhanger ending in any case.
The game does not stand very well on its own, since the plot continues the events of the first game and seems largely designed to supply backstory for the third episode. The climax encounter with a new NPC is disappointingly short, especially when contrasted with the earlier interaction with the PC's superhero sibling. Rather than attempt this as standalone entertainment, it is probably best enjoyed as part of the series.
One minor item of interest is that the startup menu allows the player to optionally specify details of the resolution of key events that occurred during his or her playthrough of the first episode. The answers have a small impact on the introductory text, but I did not notice any other consequence.
I downloaded An Act of Misdirection many years ago, having seen it mentioned in passing in a positive way. The only thing that I remembered about it when I loaded it up this morning was that you play the part of a stage magician, and that you had to figure out the steps of the performance.
"Well, this should be interesting," I thought after reading the run-up to the first command prompt. Imagine my delight as I found that the way had been carefully prepared for my bumbling first attempts, that hints and nudges were craftily placed within every turn of phrase of the interaction. These hints began small and subtle but escalated to large and glaring when needed to get my attention, and rapidly taught me both to follow their lead and to take advantage of the breaks in the action to "work the crowd" for a response.
I have noted in the past about certain games' ability to follow the player until the player can learn to follow them. This is accomplished so expertly here that it seems effortless. The only point where I got stalled too long was a place where a little thinking about the logic of performances of this type would have sufficed. (Spoiler - click to show)Specifically, having used a blunt instrument for its intended purpose, it makes sense that it can be disposed of thereafter. (Spoiler - click to show)A hint from your assistance about which item he expects to catch would have smoothed the way here; if there was one, I missed it. The correct move was apparent enough when I stopped to consider it... it just took me a while to do so because I was swept up in the urgency of keeping the show going. The author, Callico Harrison, should truly take a bow for this achievement; not many games manage to instill this sense of immediacy.
Having come to this game mostly "cold," I wasn't even aware that there was a horror component to it. I would imagine that this situation has been relatively rare since the game's initial release -- this IFDB page, for example, clearly labels it as such -- but knowing about it is a massive spoiler! If you have already played the game you can imagine my own shock, echoing that of the fictional audience, as the performance reaches its culmination. The first act had been an Act of Misdirection, indeed.
Moving on from there, Ms. Harrison demonstrates a surprisingly rich and deep command of language in painting the scenes of the protagonist's origin story. Many people seem to find this second section to be inferior to the first; I did not. The same craft and skill is used to keep the action moving with clues, now less blatant in their prompting of the right command. The parser is fairly free in its interpretation of your input at this point, redirecting your intent when you are "close enough" in order to keep the scene moving briskly. Call it "railroaded" if you like, but I prefer to think of it as the game urgently requesting your cooperation to play along so as not to ruin the intended pacing. I found myself eager to catch up as the game led me through a chaotic situation, glancing this way and that at glimpses of Victorian life before being tugged along to a more contemplative setting where the horror begins in earnest.
Here Ms. Harrison shows that her command of the psychology of horror is as great as that of her command of language -- indeed, I found this section to be a master class of the technique for "showing, not telling" in the context of interactive fiction. I expect to spend much time scrutinizing the writing here to better understand how she so expertly conveys key knowledge indirectly; important realizations suddenly appear in your mind at the center of a flourish of well-chosen connotations. A second bow in encore is called for here.
If there is anything to criticize about this work, it is that it is over too quickly, and that certain details of the scenario are not clear after a first playing. I am glad to see that other reviewers almost universally recommend a second playthrough, and I look forward to doing so... preferably with other players who don't know what to expect.
As a final note, I want to point out that this game was written in Inform 6, and it is a remarkable feat to achieve such a level of polish with that toolset. Very few games of the era are its equal in this respect, though nowadays Inform 7 makes it easier (if not exactly easy) to build scenarios of comparable quality.
Ms. Harrison does not seem to have ever produced another standalone work of IF (though she did contribute to Cragne Manor), but if she does she will find me among those waiting "in anticipation of something magical" to try her next work.
Back to Life... Unfortunately is an entertaining but significantly buggy game. I played version 3, obtained from the IF Archive. (At least, I think it was version 3. The game banner claims to be version 2, but the response to the command >BUGS implies otherwise.)
As noted by another reviewer, the game's humor starts well but doesn't hold up for long; there are really only so many ways to tell the same joke. However, by the time the humor has worn off, you are likely to have achieved several "successes," so you will be well-motivated to finish the game on the basis of wanting to complete the remaining puzzles. Regrettably, you are likely to run into trouble while doing so.
Many of the issues stem from the use of ADRIFT to write the game. As I've noted elsewhere, the most frustrating thing about ADRIFT as a player is that it lacks a proper parser and does not differentiate well between errors that are caused by failure to understand the arrangement of words vs. the failure to understand the words themselves. The game's gravest errors are where it provides inaccurate feedback, giving the player the perception that certain required commands would have no effect or would be unrecognized. I got hung up for quite a while on the syntax required to mark boxes on a form; since the need to do this is immediate and obvious, it is no spoiler to relay that the correct syntax is of the form >TICK BOX 1. (Just >TICK BOX is treated as a totally unrecognized command -- a disambiguation message would have helped tremendously here.) The worst offender of this class was (Spoiler - click to show)(see numbered hint 3 below). Attempting to use any other direct object results in a message instructing the player to say which of several indirect objects is intended. Specifying the correct indirect object in the command via its typical adventurese abbreviation (i.e. color only) will not work and falsely claim that there is no effect.
There is a built-in hint system, but it is not very extensive and does not help with guess-the-* problems. (Even here there is a significant inconsistency: While >HINT works as a command, the response to >HINTS claims there are no hints in the game.) (Spoiler - click to show)If you get really frustrated, there is a command >CLUES that will point the way to 100% spoilage. Since the game is enjoyable and worth playing, I offer the following hints:
1. Handling an intruder: (Spoiler - click to show)After exploring a bit, you will hear the sound of an intruder in your chambers. (Spoiler - click to show)You should immediately >LISTEN as soon as you are notified of this. Should you fail to do so, it will seem as though the noise was a false alarm. Go back to the Throne Room and >LISTEN to trigger the next part of the sequence. (Spoiler - click to show)An assassin! Oh, no!... but wait a minute, don't you want to die? (Spoiler - click to show)As the game hints, you don't want to die at the hands of this particular person -- once was enough.(Spoiler - click to show)You can't handle the intruder alone. He will kill you.(Spoiler - click to show)The guards can help here. (Spoiler - click to show)You have to call them -- but it only works correctly from the Laboratory. (Spoiler - click to show)If you don't do things this way, you will miss two opportunities to die.
2. Dealing with the problems of the kingdom: (Spoiler - click to show)You don't want to rule anymore. That's someone else's job. Someone specific. (Spoiler - click to show)Your High Chancellor is very... effective, shall we say, but he can't do the job alone. (Spoiler - click to show)Your layabout son is the proper ruler at this point. You will need to "encourage" him. (Spoiler - click to show)Did you know that you can >CALL GUARDS from the Throne Room? (Spoiler - click to show)They will provide you with a ring allowing telepathic communication. Pay attention to its introduction. (Spoiler - click to show)Examine it carefully before putting it on. (Spoiler - click to show)Your son isn't eager to take up his duties, but he is eager to avoid any displeasure. (Spoiler - click to show)Especially pain. (Spoiler - click to show)>SMASH RING -- but only while wearing it in the Throne Room, for inexplicable reasons. That will get his attention. (Spoiler - click to show)Then >TALK TO TOROMIN again -- but only somewhere other than the Throne Room, for inexplicable reasons.
3. An optional death: (Spoiler - click to show)If you have handled the intruder correctly, you will get two items that he was carrying. (Spoiler - click to show)One is easily applied to your goal. The other requires some work to use. (Spoiler - click to show)The leaf has an odor that reminds you of something. (Spoiler - click to show)Your lab has something that can help. (Spoiler - click to show)You want to heat it up. Which potion is best for this? (Spoiler - click to show)For inexplicable reasons, >PUT LEAF IN PURPLE won't work (and falsely claim that nothing happened), but >PUT LEAF IN POTION or >PUT LEAF IN PURPLE POTION will have a result.
4. A required death: (Spoiler - click to show)As you have discovered, your minions are quite adept at bringing you back to life. How can you stop them? (Spoiler - click to show)You need to be not just killed but obliterated. (Spoiler - click to show)Earthly methods are insufficient here; you need divine intervention. (Spoiler - click to show)Divine is not the same as infernal! (Spoiler - click to show)You probably found a scroll discussing "words of power" in the Laboratory. (Spoiler - click to show)Oh, darn -- the words are missing. But this was your scroll, supposedly, so maybe you already know them? (Spoiler - click to show)You can just say >WORDS OF POWER to use them -- in the right place. (Spoiler - click to show)The right place being someplace open to the sky. (Spoiler - click to show)No, not the balcony. (Spoiler - click to show)The Throne Room needs to be prepared before it will work. So do you. The scroll is specific about this. (Spoiler - click to show)Holy water is the tool for the job. (Spoiler - click to show)You can drink some to prepare yourself, but you need a way to get some to the Throne Room. (Spoiler - click to show)The only container that can be used for this must be ordered using the mouldy scroll (obtained via >CALL GUARDS in the Throne Room). (Spoiler - click to show)The genie in a bottle is a red herring. (Spoiler - click to show)The fiery potion won't kill you but does provide you with a container. (Spoiler - click to show)You can >FILL VIAL in the Laboratory and >SPRINKLE WATER in the Throne Room.
Although the goal is to reach a score of 10, the way to achieve this best score is, unexpectedly, to forego one of the opportunities (Spoiler - click to show)(see numbered clue 1 above). Doing so provides the PC with needed items that can't be obtained any other (legitimate) way. Sharp-eyed players will note that the score (measured in "successful suicide attempts") goes up even when the PC chooses not to die here, and that this mysterious extra death is needed to get to 10. The reason for this is not clear; it seems to be a bug.
The least bothersome issues encountered in the course of play were several misspellings that looked like the result of depending on a spellchecker instead of human proofreading. Of particular note were two phrases: "the semi-literature Toromin" (instead of "semi-literate") and "full extent of the water" (presumably instead of "of the law"?) -- the remainder were sound-alike errors that are easier to miss.
The problems were frequent and severe enough to sharply reduce my opinion of the gameplay experience, which is why I've given it two stars. However, I did like this game, and I encourage people to try it out. Its premise is solid, and the writing is above-average. It ended up being the first of a series, followed by two sequels that received respectable rankings within the competitions in which they were entered. With some corrections in place, this game would definitely warrant three stars. Until that happens, don't hesitate to use the clues above as a way of smoothing out the roughest parts.
Wisher, Theurgist, Fatalist is a short game with an unusually ambitious scope. It is intended as an homage (self-described as "fanfic" in the game's banner) of an RPG system proposed by Jenna Moran (the outdated URL for which is also shown in the game's banner; the Wayback Machine has an archived version).
I had never heard of this RPG, and a cursory review of its rules suggests that it was proposed as a game mostly in jest. Rules are frequently written in a joking manner, such as the following passage: "Don't play WTF when operating heavy machinery. Use caution when playing WTF while tired, drunk, or punchy, as it may increase the chance that the shadow lurking beyond the edge of the world shall immure you all in timeless misery. If you are or think you might be pregnant, talk to your doctor about playing WTF." Even the RPG's acronym (WTF) implies that it is not intended to be taken seriously.
However, the author of the RPG has published other commercial role-playing games, and the part of the WTF rules that are not in jest describes a collaborative story-building RPG system. That system as described appears to be at least 90% satire. I don't have enough experience with this type of game to comment on WTF's playability, but I assume that it is possible with the right set of participants. (A word of warning: The rules' example of play, from which the title of this review was drawn, might give you pause.)
The remaining 10% of the non-jest portion appears to be an outline of the RPG author's philosophy and/or methodology for creating fantasy stories (and/or possibly for living), which is interesting but is not the point of this review. The only part that is relevant is the prescribed gross structure of a game of the RPG, which begins in the the Civilized Lands. (Per the prescribed outline, the story is intended to progress from there to the Savage People and the Fairies, then on to the Ur-Toads -- optionally first attempting to reach the Dragons of the Deeps -- and thence to the Conclusion. Understand that these segments of the journey and their names are in some sense composed of mythic archetypes, and would seem to be highly fluid in their execution. The only requirement is that certain types of narrative challenge are overcome at each step.)
Xavid, the author of the work of interactive fiction which is the point of this review, seems to have been inspired by the RPG's more poetic sections to create a parser game rooted in the RPG ruleset. This is a goal that on the face of it seems manifestly impossible, as the ruleset is unapologetic about its massive ambiguities, and computer programs don't do ambiguity well. As a consequence, many (indeed, most) of the mechanics of the RPG are simply ignored by the IF. Perhaps unexpectedly, what remains seems, in fact, to be a pretty good adaptation of the intended play experience to the parser medium.
The human player takes the role of the player character, who is the Wisher, and indirectly takes the roles of the Theurgist and Fatalist, who are both non-player characters that become obedient to PC commands after minor puzzles are solved. Each of these roles has the ability to influence certain in-game objects by injecting those objects with a quality that is associated with the role. For Wishers, this is "valence," the relevance of that thing to the narrative. For Fatalists, this is truth (as judged within the story world). For Theurgists, this is "mechanical support," ostensibly referring to RPG game mechanics (but rather significantly re-defined in the IF).
Each of these qualities will be discovered in the course of play and can be used by the appropriate character to invest objects with supernatural influence for the purpose of solving the IF's puzzles, all of which offer multiple solutions. In addition, the Wisher and Theurgist characters have a limited ability to use other special influence, by affecting the thoughts of creatures and physical qualities of things respectively. (In the RPG, the Fatalist's special power is the ability to declare what is true about the history of the world. It would be difficult to implement in a meaningful way, so in the IF this character is largely reduced to the source of in-game lore.)
The events of the game cover the characters' travails in the first part (i.e. the Civilized Lands segment) of an RPG game, in which they must obtain the (vampire) queen's blessing to set out on their quest for the Jewel of All Desiring. This portion is very sparsely implemented, largely composed of single-sentence room descriptions and "You can't see any such thing." parser errors. However, mechanically the game performs very well, implementing some relatively tricky things without any noteworthy bugs. The built-in hint system is available if needed, which goes a long way toward keeping player interest from getting derailed by guess-the-verb and/or guess-the-noun frustration. The writing, limited though it is, is well-focused on what is necessary to create a minimum of atmosphere and adequate context for the game's puzzles.
The conclusion of the game is quite unexpected... and very thought-provoking. (Spoiler - click to show)Having reached the object of the quest, the player must wish the world into existence. (Spoiler - click to show)(In accordance with the rules of the RPG, this will be the world that the characters experienced -- yes, it's very meta that way.) The game asks a series of questions about the actions taken by the characters, soliciting your -- as in you, the player's -- input on the matter. Questions are phrased such that they ask whether or not you agree that aspect of the story. At the end of the ten questions, your score is given, and the maximum score accords with answering yes -- answering yes honestly -- to all questions. If the player does not like their score, they are implicitly invited to play again to find other solutions to the puzzles.
This game left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the concept behind it is compelling, and the implementation reflects insightful and inventive design in adapting the more ephemeral aspects of the RPG as written. On the other hand, everything about the game's text and interaction is so bare-bones that on the whole it feels flat and empty -- in stark contrast with the tidbits of evocative and compelling text pulled from the ruleset and delivered via the Fatalist. Ultimately, I decided that this flatness is what would matter most from the perspective of the average player, which is why I've given this work only two stars.
I remind the reader that, in my book, two stars is not a bad rating. I certainly think that this game is worth experiencing and contemplating -- it doesn't take long. Perhaps Xavid will return to this project and expand it to the point where it better fulfills its potential. If not... well, perhaps someone else will come along to take another shot at realizing the vision shimmering in the distance here.