Welcome to the Save State Cblogs! In honor of Chad Concelmo's awesome Memory Card series, we decided to continue his legacy.
Remember that one moment from your favorite video game? You know, that one you made a special save file for just so you could easily experience it again? Well, that's us!
Every so often, we write up about moments in games that had an impact on us, either by making us feel super happy, super sad, or a moment that showcases how awesome videogames are! These are the special moments we saved and want to share with the world.
It is strange for me to think that for anyone slightly older than I am, every game was something that they got to experience - something new, but something within memory. For everyone younger, games as we know them were something that are just a given. Growing up today, children might see their parents playing games on the Xbox 1 and PS4, and wax nostalgic about those good old days. As for me, I remember picking up certains games - Secret of Evermore, Earthbound, and 7th Sage, to name a few. But then there were games like Bubble Bobble, Mario, and Joe and Mac that I just always remember as being there. One of the games that I took for granted was the original Final Fantasy. I only remember playing it half from memory, and half from the amazing strategy guide that Nintendo Power provided:
Also, ohmygod nostalgia.
There were many fantastic moments in that game - from the brutal fight with Astos, the Hall of Giants, backwards talking brooms, sailing the open seas, and the absolute freedom of flying aboard a sunken airship. In fact, just thinking about the fight with Bikke fills my heart with childlike glee. And then there’s the soundtrack! But no, today, I wanted to focus on the Flying Fortress, home of the Wind Crystal.
After acquiring the aforementioned airship, you and your party fly out to the desert to find Mirage Tower - home of the Wind Crystal, defended by the last of the four Fiends, Tiamat. The previous 3 fiends were positively monstrous. There was Lich - who polluted the earth, Kary - who guarded the crystal of fire inside of an active volcano, and Kraken - who sank the water crystal to a shrine under the sea causing the oceans to rage. Each Fiend was exponentially more powerful than the last, and each was on a scale like no other.
It is interesting how the game communicated the sense of enemy size to the player. The maximum number of enemies the grid could hold was 9, in a 3 by 3 formation. If the enemies were larger, they were held in a 2 by 2 grid, and this was reserved for giants and trolls. Then, finally, there was a spot reserved for Fiends: ancient wicked monsters, larger than giants, and more powerful than time itself. They took up the entire screen. Every other fight in the game let you select which target you attacked, but the Fiends only allowed you to select your command...were you planning on hitting something else? It really gave a sense of scale to these monsters, and made the fights feel unique, and grand.
The four Warriors of Light ascend up Mirage tower - a pillar made out of sandstone in the middle of the desert - you fight your way through a fairy tale, taking on gorgons, chimeras, vampires, and the occasional blue dragon. Eventually, at the apex of the tower, you find your goal: a transporter, along with...a robot? Sure, why not. He informs you that you need a CUBE to use the transporter, which as a prepared adventurer, you totally have. Upon activating the machine, you are whisked away to the Sky Castle. The Sky Castle contrasts the Mirage Tower as a labyrinth of metal and technology. After fighting your way through more mythical menageries, you finally reach the top floor. At the apex of the tower there is a single, ominous bridge, only wide enough for a single party member to cross at a time. At the end of the bridge, you see the object that you have been looking for: the crystal, and the final Fiend. One by one, the party starts to walk on the bridge.
Now, there are two very distinct things that can happen on the bridge: the first is nothing remarkable. You make it to Tiamat, and the fight begins. Incidentally, Tiamat is one of my favorite bosses in an RPG, for a very specific reason. See, the manual gives what bosses are strong and weak against. In the case of Tiamat, he is weak against BRAK (unfortunately, not from Space Ghost fame). BRAK is a black magic spell that has a chance to instantly kill an enemy. It was often more fun to see if it would be easier to kill the final Fiend in this game, a monstrous multi headed dragon, by punching him to death or instantly killing him. It often feels like a race between the two halves of the party, which is really amusing considering how powerful some of the other Fiends will be. You could walk in to this area underleveled if you were lucky!
Speaking of luck, something else can happen on that bridge, and I remember the odds very clearly. One in sixty four. For reference, that is a one and a half percent chance. Your party may not know it, but that number should have them quaking in fear. The player does. After reading about what happens every one in sixty four times you try to cross the bridge, you don't just press the up button on the dpad, you mash up. You mash it like it makes you run. Because if you don’t….
As the party crosses the bridge, a distinct whistling sound is heard. Looking forward and backwards, there is nothing. It can only be coming...from above? A massive explosion soon follows, leaving nothing but a mushroom cloud in its wake. The two mages, unfortunately, didn’t make it past the initial blast. The black belt is badly injured. As the fighter tries to make heads and tails of what happened, an audible thud comes from the other side of the flames and smoke. The sound of gears grinding, steam pumping, pistons pushing suddenly becomes sickeningly loud. As it clears, you finally see what happens: the WarMECH. A gigantic bipedal beast of a monster has sprung to life, and acquired your party as targets, launching a preemptive Nuclear before you could even react. The fighter draws his sword, and begins to attack, only to meet the hardest steel his sword has ever known. The WarMECH switches targets, and, with a single stop and gut wrenching crunch, removes the black belt from the fight. The fighter, ever the warrior, tries valiantly to find where a weak point is, but unfortunately his efforts are fruitless. The entire party lays slain feet from their final objective, and the key to salvation of the world. An electronic eye scans the battlefield and finding no signs of life, the WarMECH returns to his hiding spot, activating a sleep protocol, waiting for another unfortunate band of adventurers to make the same mistake.
Without the drama, the WarMECH (official spelling), has a 1/64 chance of spawning. More often than not, if you are just getting to Tiamat, he will kill you. He typically gets a preemptive strike on your party as he spawns. Out of a maximum health of 999 for a single party member, his strikes can do upwards of 250. For a fighter at this point in the game, it is about half their health. For a mage, it is almost nearly death. But for those truly unlucky souls, the WarMECH has been equipped with one special technique. A spell so powerful, even the most experienced of wizards have to prepare days just to emulate it once: Nuclear. Nuclear is the hardest hitting spell in the game, and it hits all party members. An inexperienced party can be wiped by a single cast. This means that your entire climb up the Mirage Tower, your fighting through the Flying Fortress? It was for nothing. Do it again.
But the fun doesn’t stop with his offense. The WarMECH is only weaker than 1 enemy in the entire game: Chaos. The last boss. This randomly spawning monster is worth more experience It has nearly the same defenses as the last boss as well, meaning that it laughs off most of your attacks. It offers more experience, and more than five times the gold of the boss you are about to fight if you manage to defeat it. If.
You can watch the fight here:
First of all, can you imagine playing the game without a guide? I never did. I always knew that he was lurking. I knew that the moment I stepped on that bridge, there was a chance that I was dead. I was dead, and all my progress was lost. With every. Single. Step. But to a new player, that bridge is just a bridge. Maybe you played the game five times (not an unpopular idea, back in the days when you only had a few games), and never gave that bridge a second thought. Nothing more than an odd design meant to ratchet up tension? Then, out of nowhere, comes a monster slightly smaller than a boss, who clears out your entire party in an instant. How cool would that be? The low percent chance of it happening means that anyone encountering him ‘blind’ will fall into a state of shock and awe - pun intended. Every time you see that bridge, you feel that terror. You have to make a choice every time that you get there: how much progress are you willing to lose? Do you want to run the whole temple again, or is now the time to back out...you know….just in case.
But more than that, this isn’t just an optional boss, or anything like that. He may like look Final Fantasy’s origin story for enemies like the Emerald Weapon, and things of that sort, but that is incorrect. When you kill a WarMECH, it isn’t gone. That thing is a robot, and this fortress is mass producing them. They are always there. Always watching. Always waiting. The fact that there are infinite amounts leads to, in my opinion, one of the most fun side activities in the game...farming them. As you prepare to make your way through to the Chaos Shrine to break the endless cycle of the death and rebirth of Chaos and the Fiends, you finally gain enough power to fight this monster head on. This typically involves a black mage who can cast Nuclear himself, along with FAST on the main source of damage, usually your black belt. The White Mage typically buffs the entire party, heals the entire party, or casts FADE, the only offensive spell in her repertoire. The DPS classes do their best to take out the WarMECH’s massive 1000 hit point pool.
I also just wanted to touch on his attacks, just for a minute. I don’t mean to put too fine a point on it, but he only has 2 attacks: null - no description, just hits, and usually two. In my mind, this was always a cold, hard stomp on whichever party member was closest. The second attack is Nuclear. Nuclear…just...wow. This is a spell that your party can get by finding a secret magic shop, tucked away in the back of a town, and have minimals casts of. Not only is the damage massive and the attack spammable, but it is named after the ultimate tool of death. If my memory serves, he is also the first enemy in the game to be able to use this spell - in the past when the Fiends are at their full power they can also unleash this, but the WarMECH is the first to use it in the present. The psychological effect of being nuked by a bread and butter enemy is just intense.
Apparently this guy feels like he needs a guard?
I know that when I played this game with my brother, we would grab a sheet of paper when we started the farming route. With each mech we killed, we would draw a little silhouette with an X through it, signifying our victory. It only takes about a dozen or so to level your party to an absurd level, but it is a long grind. Typically, the first WarMECH takes out all of your resources - health, magic, items, bodily fluids...Later there comes a point where you can take on two or three in a single run.
For me, the WarMECH is probably the first thing in a videogame I ever feared, and it covered every aspect of that fear. It starts off with a lowly one and a half percent of finding you...lurking in shadows, not quite charged up, whatever mythos you give it, you know that it is there, and every step you take it could be the final steps you take. Every fight you encounter on that tiny bridge is a sigh of relief. Then just seeing it..it was like spotting a shooting star, only it was heading right for you. You get the chance to marvel at its beauty before it erases you from existence. Almost a badge of honor to be wiped from it. But maybe it doesn’t kill you. Maybe you can run. Flee. After seeing the terror, maybe there is a way to escape. Then later, it is the apprehension that you might be prepared for it this time. Standing up to it. And when you finally triumph over it? Wonderful. Just pure awe. Then to finally return to where it lived just to hunt it down, just to prove that you can. To silence the nightmare, to assure yourself that you are capable. It really comes full circle.
The WarMECH is so many wonderful things. It is the skulking terror that keeps you on your toes. It is an unholy, unthinking robot that doesn’t flinch at the use of nuclear weapons to take out 4 humans. It is a faithful guardian to a 2000 year old god that controls the sky itself. Then later, it becomes a test of your mettle. A badge of honor. Then, finally, it becomes another number. Another one down. Another mob. Another monster. Then you know that you are truly ready, having conquered all that the world can throw at you.
Hey, so this is super embarrassing - I have no idea what the name of this game is anymore! I played it a few years ago, but couldn't find the exact game online. Huh. If you know what it is by the description, please let me know. Because of this, generic screenshots, and placeholder images. You all like those, right?
Have you ever played a game that opened your eyes? A game that truly changed your perspective, and shocked your world view? The Save State blog has often talked about moments that have messed with our perception of games, storytelling, and mentioned times in games that have tugged at our heartstring, but today, I wanted to cover a game that really made me think.
Now, oftentimes, the best games are hidden gems. It is rare that a AAA game has an incredible lesson, although games such as Spec Ops and Bioshock Infinite have offered an interesting treat. But no, we are not talking about AAA games. So surely, this must be a game like Thomas Was Alone, or perhaps Braid, right? No, today I wanted to talk about a flash game. A flash game that on the surface has no apparent depth, but when you peel away the layers, explains more than you could ever imagine. Of course, I am talking about GAMENAMEHERE.
You can play GAMENAMEHERE at URLHERE.
No, you dolt, its a parable about the dangers of unfettered immigration. Jesus, how do you not get that!
At it’s core, GAMENAMEHERE is a very, very simple soccer simulator. You have anywhere between 4 and 10 people playing on different teams. Each player is a circle, the teams are different colors, and the ball is a 3rd color. This game is not advanced. The goal of the game is exactly the same as soccer: at the end of a predetermined time period, have more points than your opponent. It’s incredibly simple, right?
The controls are just as simplistic. WASD controls movement of your character, and touching the ‘ball’ makes you dribble the ball, in that it is in front of you until someone steals it away by touching it. Pressing spaces allows you to move the ball in your current forward trajectory as a pass or a shot on goal. This game boils down the entire sport of soccer into five buttons, which is beautiful for reasons I will soon explain.
Further touches on the game include displaying the nationality of the player - not for a fake team, but of the actual person controlling the circle. As much as I would like to believe I was only dealing with eagle loving, blue blooded, commie hating Americans, the games were actually pretty diverse, although countries well known for a love of soccer are well represented. As an aside, I am American so it is soccer, or at the very least “freedom ball”. The nationality of the player is displayed, along with a chat window. The chat is usually inactive in game, but used for only the most basic “gg” in the game, or if your team lost, the chance to yell at your players for not guarding the goal..
The areas in red being people who are correct.
Communication in the game is often non verbal - If you see two or three people rushing for a ball and one isn’t you, then you are on defense. If your opponents have the ball, you get between them and the goal, with one person hanging back on offense in case the ball comes back. The positions of an individual player can change through the course of the game (there are no rules enforced). Most of the time, any semblance of strategy just falls into place.
So why am I making such a big deal out of the game?
Sadly, this is not a Frog Fractions moment, where GAMENAMEHERE suddenly turns into a match of Call of Duty with one player playing DDR. No, it sadly remains as a soccer game. But the interesting part is which team wins. As you take a pool of people from the internet with varying levels of experience in the game, eventually a dominant strategy occurs. You notice that if a team adopts a certain strategy, they win more games, so your team attempts to use the same strategy to beat the opposing team. You try to rally every future team you are with into using this single, defining strategy of the game.
As I played round after round, different teams attempted different tactics to outwit the opposition. Occasionally, we could get away with a power play - everyone attempts to play offense. Many teams were left on the back foot, leaving all of their team members on defense. Many times this involved all of the players of a team crowding the goal in an attempt to stop anyone from scoring a goal. None of these strategies compared to the winning strategy.
The winning strategy was: a goalie. Half the remaining players took offense. The other half took defense. If the remainder was uneven, one player would follow the ball.
Videogames, game theory, and qwantz, in a blog at one time? I am so proud of myself right now
Typically, this strategy started with someone taking goal, and it seems counter intuitive at first. This guy, instead of playing offense or defense, is instead just sitting in the goal. Player instinct screams to run to the ball. Similarly, sitting on defense when the ball is on the other side of the court is just as frustrating. Just imagine then how the offense must feel watching their defense crumble. If only they had another man! But after a certain amount of games, you know that this is the best strategy.
If you let people play soccer online, turns out, they will play soccer. Mind. Blown.
Pictured above: A revelation
“Taterchimp, thats dumb. Soccer players use that strategy all the time” EXACTLY. That’s amazing! When you put an infinite number of players into a virtual arena with the rules of soccer (X players on each team, score goals to win), the combination that wins the most is the reason why the players are set up in that way! It is beautiful to see!
Think back to the invention of the very game of soccer, when two groups of people had a ball, and someone said: I bet you I can get it into the net more than you guys can. For years and years people played this game trying to figure out the optimal configuration of players, and gamers came to the exact conclusion with a simplified version of the game! It proves that the rules for the team do not exist to restrict the teams, but it is to guide new players that it is the most optimal way to play the game.
Above: Non optimal play
I feel like here I have to tell you why I find this so special. For the past 4 years I have worked in a Six Sigma department at a well rated company. My job day in and day out requires me to identify flaws in processes and try and fix them to reduce the defects to a minimal level. My company doesn’t produce widgets like a factory would, so my job is basically identifying process improvement capabilities - where can we reduce manual processes and improve overall efficiencies? So I definitely have a keen eye for things like this, and I might be slightly biased/over excited when I notice something like this.
Consider any other permutation of a team - too much offense means that your defense has an enormous gap should the opposing offense get the ball on your side of the field. No goalie means that you cannot stop an offense. A single player on offense means you cannot hope to escape a defensive rush. Players are better off not switching sides in the heat of the moment, and maintain their position in case of a change in possession. It is the most optimal way of playing the game.
Reference all the things!
At its core, this reminds me of the scientific experiments that use nature to fix problems that programmers have spent hours upon hours to program. One such program was to find the most optimal path between a series of points (the traveling salesman problem). The example I have read the most on is for public transit - what is the most optimal organization of subway lines between cities? Model after model produced the optimal solution for how everything should be laid out, and thus the entire system was based off of these calculations. But the same results could be replicated more or less exactly by making each city a food supply for mold, and watching how the mold recreates the path. All the math, logic, and calculations, reduced to simply asking nature what the best way to do it is. Nature, truly, does find a way. There is such a beauty in being able to watch players come up with the best way to play a sport organically, with no rules to bind them, with no instructions, and no penalties.
As for the personal impact, as soon as I realized what was happening, my mind was kind of blown. I found myself using the chat function to assign players as goalies, determining if someone should stay on offense or defense. After realizing that every team should have a plan, it stopped being reactionary to a team having a ball, and started to be a matter of holding our positions. Then I took myself out of this game, and out of soccer: this applies to every sport. Baseball. Basketball. Football. We do not have these rules and regulations because someone wrote them down that way, we have them because it is the best possible way to play the sport. And because of this, teams aren’t judged by their strategy, but are instead judged by their skill (mostly - there are of course different formations and plays that can be used, but the core configuration remains consistent).
Now, think about how this applies to video games that we play. When you play Street Fighter and choose Ryu or Ken, are you picking the cheap character, or the best character for the sport? Are the best players the one’s who use their skills, or the ones who adhere to what the most optimal way to play the game is? In DOTA or Counter Strike, is there a single optimal strategy that would lead to victory? Have hours upon hours of playing the game with millions upon millions of people discovered the optimal strategy yet, or are we still playing those games ‘wrong’?
And all that comes from a single, simple, flash game...
One of the biggest letdowns that a gamer can experience is to have an experience spoiled before they get a chance to play the game. There have been many games that have had a pivotal moment in the narrative that if the player has advanced warning, lack that same impact. I remember the largest one here on DToid was Bioshock - I didn’t own a 360 when the game first came out, and after a year the spoiler became a running joke in the community. Sometimes, there is a price to pay for not being in ‘the now’. As I played through the game, when I reached that pivotal scene, it didn’t blow my mind. It didn’t warp my perception of player agency, it didn't put me into a state of shock and self questioning, and until a few days ago I wondered if it was because it was spoiled and it didn't resonate with me.
This is the point where I say this blog is about Spec Ops: the Line, and contains spoilers.
I played Spec Ops back in January, six months after its release. All of the major scenes had been spoiled for me, but I had still heard it was a harrowing journey into the depths of the human mind and soul. Even Zero Punctuation liked it! Surely, this game would resonate with me. Well, spoilers, the first time I played it I wasn’t impressed. I played through the campaign to completion, and only felt...confused? Maybe not confused as much as empty. I didn’t get it. It didn’t click. And that really got under my skin. I love narrative driven games, why can’t I get into this one?! So I did as much research as I could stand. I read up on countless blogs, I watched videos online, and I even considered reading a book. I didn’t, but I thought about it, and it is the thought that counts, right? I came to a point where I understood the game and the impact, but it still didn’t resonate with me.
Then, recently, there was a blog posted about the game. About why they didn’t like the narrative. And, having done my due diligence, I found myself defending the game, refuting why it was the way that it was.
My understanding of the game was mostly from an academic point of view - I could have written about three quarters of this blog with my understanding before that day and it would have been more or less the same. Which, incidentally, if someone told me I would write a ten page paper on a videogame for recreational purposes, I wouldn’t have believed them. In my search for items that helped my argument, I pulled up a scene that backed up my argument. And as I watched that scene, it was like my eyes finally opened to the game. I found myself screaming out the “oh my gods!” during the scene. For the first time, it clicked. I got it. And I was deeply moved by it.
If you are reading, you surely know the plot of Spec Ops: you play as Captain Walker and are placed in charge of your two squad mates, Adams and Lugo. Your mission is to provide recon of the wasteland that Dubai has become. After dust storms ravaged the city, the “Damned 33rd”, lead by Konrad, set out to rescue the citizens. The US government soon abandoned the effort, but Konrad insisted that he and his troops stay behind, going so far as to disobey orders to leave. Your job was to see if anyone was left, and your curiosity leads you to find out what happened to Konrad.
You initially find yourself fighting insurgents who have been fighting against the 33rd. You also learn that the CIA has been attempting to ‘remove’ the 33rd, so naturally you are mistaken for a CIA agent. The 33rd open fire on you, forcing you to kill American soldiers. This is the start the start of your ‘sins’ in the game. You slaughter soldiers, you kill insurgents, you unleash chemical warfare on innocent refugees, and you doom the city by destroying the water supply. All in the name of getting to Konrad to solve the mystery of how the city got so bad. All because Konrad was leading you to do such things.
At times, the game presents the player with choices that are unclear - one scene has you in front of a rioting mob that just lynched one of your squad members. The game tells you to shoot to make them disperse. I know, in my heart of hearts, I was sad to see one of my men go, so I ripped right into the crowd. Only later did I find out you can fire into the air and they will disperse. However, some scenes you cannot avoid. There is a scene where the only way to progress is to unleash white phosphorous on a group of soldiers below - as the smoke clears, you realize that in addition to committing a war crime against Americans, you also destroyed a refugee camp. To many players, this scene is enough to instill a haunting memory, and I personally will never be able to forget the centerpiece of it all: the burnt husk of a woman, mouth agape in mid scream with no eyes, only sockets, covering what we presume is her daughter’s eyes from the grotesque scene of burning bodies surrounding her.
In addition to all of this imagery, the game also presents the soldiers you kill as human beings. Oftentimes, you can sneak up on them in idle conversation, where they are contemplating why they are fighting, talking about their family, reminiscing about being back home. The game goes out of its way to humanize the enemies you are fighting.
Finally, the game presents ‘tips’ on loading screens that are meant to shake you to your core. At first, they are things like “this button reloads!”, but they turn to things like “this isn’t your fault”, and “you are still a good person”. One in particular asks “how many American soldiers have you killed today?” It knows you will see these as you die or as a scene changes, and uses this opportunity to seemingly scold the player’s actions. All of the screenshots (except the first one) in this blog are in game 'tips' presented to the player.
The intended effect is that the player feels uneasy while playing. However, at the end of the game, the player finally encounters Konrad. And this is where it stops being a game.
A bloodied Walker makes his way to where Konrad is. A dozen troops meet you, claiming they are all that remains of the 33rd- you killed the rest. They surrender to you, and point you to Konrad. As you walk to meet him, he asks you “do you feel like a hero yet?”.
As you find Konrad in his lavish settings, he asks if you think he had gone crazy. Walker responds that he had hoped so. He is painting a familiar scene - he is painting the refugees, specifically the woman holding her daughter. Konrad says his undoing was that he couldn’t escape the reality of what happened in Dubai. He actions are figuratively pushing the painting in your face, forcing you to stare at the most gruesome consequence of your actions.
“Your eyes are opening for the first time”, he says.
Walker looks at the painting and after a moment declares “You did this”. “No, You did. Your orders killed 47 innocent people”. Konrad then asks who is responsible for what happened?
As the scene continues, we find Konrad assures us that ‘this is no game’. We then see Konrad in a chair, pistol in hand, aged, and most importantly - dead. It is clear that we are talking to an illusion at this point. The background turns black.
The game flashes back to the opening, remind you of your initial mission: find out if there are survivals, then radio home. Not to chase down Konrad, not to save the city. Thinking back to it, Walker says that nothing that happened was in his control, and that he was only trying to help. Konrad reminds him that everything that happened was based on his actions, and no one was saved - the only thing Walker is good for is killing people. Scenes of those you have killed flash past. The illusions that Walker created throughout the game are suddenly revealed. Then Konrad says that “the truth is, you are here because you wanted to feel like something you are not. You wanted to feel like a hero”. He continues to claim that Walker has used him as a scapegoat for his actions.
At this point, control is returned to the player, and a decision is presented - you can shoot Konrad. Or you can kill yourself. Walker mutters that maybe this is all in his head, to which Korad retorts that maybe it is in his. The player gets the choice to pull the trigger on whoever he or she chooses.
You can watch the entire scene here:
Here we learned that Walker is suffering from the stress of a battlefield, and was using Konrad as a scapegoat for his actions. He disregarded orders from up top because he wanted to prove himself as a hero. Yay. The end!
The scene makes sense in the context of the characters, but there are certain phrases that should key you in to what is really happening: The game isn’t showing you a dialogue between Konrad and Walker. The game is talking to you. The game is saying that you the player are Walker, and that Konrad is the developer. Slowly, it changes the background from what would be expected in a realistic war game to a black screen. The set is taken down for a minute, the actors stepping out of their roles. The scene isn’t dialogue between two characters.
This is a message. From the developer to you.
And they are pissed.
If you haven’t realized this before, go back up and watch the scene again. Watch it with Walker as you, personally. Not as you projecting as Walker. Not as you pretending to be Walker. But between you personally and the Yager. With Walker as nothing more than a puppet that you are controlling. This is, afterall, what they wanted. Konrad tells you that this isn’t a game, and he really means that. They break the fourth wall to get you to pay attention and listen up. There is also a line where Walker says that maybe it is all in his head. An illusion. Konrad says that maybe it is all in his. It was, afterall, a picture in the mind of those who developed the game. The developer shows you the burned refugee. It shows you that it knows that you killed civilians. It knows that you killed innocent lives. And it had the ability to predict this, so much that it could paint out the outcome of your actions in the way that would affect you the most. Of course you would kill them. Of course you would open fire on Americans. Because you are a monster. How would Konrad know that this happens? Easy. He doesn’t. The developer does.
The game reinforces this player agency by showing Konrad dead in a chair, having taken his own life. He never existed. He is nothing but a voice in our ear, an audio snippet playing from someone long gone. A voice in our ear that we were using as an excuse to commit these atrocities.
The next exchange is simply fantastic. “You did this”. Every player who dislikes Spec Ops uses this exact argument. The developer set up the game in such a way where the only way to progress is to gun down soldiers, to bomb civilians, to doom an entire city In many places through the game the player has a choice: like I mentioned above, you can mow down the crowd, or force them to disperse. Other times, there is seemingly no choice. Because of this, many feel like the game is unfairly punishing them for doing what the game told them to do. The only way to progress it to commit a war crime, so why are they holding it in our face. They made us do this!
The response is that you did this. Your orders killed the refugees. Your orders killed American soldiers. You orders doomed the city. And not your “orders” as Walker. But you playing the game. You saw what the game way presenting. They made it painfully clear who your enemies were, and what was at stake. They gave you your mission, then asked you to deviate from it. The developer gave you a voice in Konrad that prodded you into killing soldiers. It suggested you should mortar soldiers. And you obliged. The game isn’t responsible for you playing it. Your purchased it. You played it. And when it told you to kill, you killed. The game never forced you to kill anyone. It allowed you to kill people. And we, the generation of sociopaths who find pleasure in playing power trip military fantasies were all too eager to oblige them. We had a choice. We always have a choice. The game went too far, and we winced, but we never stopped playing. If we had stopped, turned around, and remembered what our mission was, we could have saved countless lives. If we decided that this game crossed the line of what we are willing to do, we would have turned it off and dismissed it. But we are conditioned to press on and keep playing no matter what the virtual consequences are.
Then Walker takes the voice of the player yet again: “I was only trying to help.” How. Powerless. Later on he says that he never meant to hurt anyone, and the developer responds with “no one ever does”. We were playing this game because we thought it was ultimately the right thing to do. As we continued to kill, we ultimately believed we were doing so because the story would end up where we were doing the correct thing. We wanted to believe that if we pushed through the brutality, we would find an ending where maybe the city was saved. What did we get instead? We received nothing. Bleak, horrific, nothing. So why did we do this?
“Because you wanted to feel like something you were not. You wanted to feel like a hero”.
Has a game ever been so accusing? Has a developer ever been so blunt? They flat out say that we are playing game as an empowering escape. We are killing virtually so we can feel good about ourselves. We are willing to pump round after round into our fellow digital man if it means we can feel like a hero. We are willing to sacrifice our morals if it means we can escape what we really are for ten minutes: no one. But in the power fantasy of the modern shooter, we are all fighting the good fight, we are all the infallible hero. And here comes Spec Ops saying “no. You are a gamer, playing a game, wanting to be something you will never be. You will sacrifice everything for that as long as there is nothing on the line, you loser.”
Finally, the developer gives you a choice. After all this, what do you do? Do you try to keep playing the hero? Do you hold out hope that after all of this you can still get a happy ending? Or do you admit defeat, allow them to say that they got you, and stop playing now by killing yourself. If you shoot Walker, you realize that you were wrong, and that they were right. If you shoot the developer you continue the illusion that you are still ‘right’, and that the violence was justified.
This single scene asks so much more of the player than any other game has. It isn’t just saying in this game you were a dick because I told you to be a dick. It is asking you if you really, honestly, think that every military shooter on the market is right. Is it correct to take people’s lives to live out your own power fantasy? How far are you willing to go to get the reward of being a hero? The entire scene is asking you to stop playing games as a kind of Skinner Box - keep killing and we will keep rewarding you - and start questioning your motives and thinking for yourself. What have they done? Why am I killing? Do I have a choice?
From a personal note, I played this game through on my first time going for the last ending. There was no closure, no fanfare, and I felt empty for it. I did everything it asked me to, because I knew that if I did I would get another chapter. I would get another achievement. If I shot someone in the face with a shotgun, a fountain of blood would pop up with all the fanfare of a coworker giving me a thumbs up in the office. I felt nothing from the game, except the feeling that I missed something. I played through again through the scene with the white phosphorous only to get the same empty feeling.
After watching that scene again, and realizing that they were talking about me? I feel horrible. I fell right into their trap. They were right. I would pursue any goal, no matter how gory, to advance whatever narrative they drove. When I mentioned Bioshock above, it wasn’t simply for the community spoiler. It was also because this game pulls the same “would you kindly?” card. I am willing to do whatever a game asks me to do, regardless of context, just to advance the game. We trust that what we are doing is correct. If a game refused to progress unless you killed an infant, would you? Would you turn off the game and play something else? What if the game asked you to open fire on civilians in an airport? Spec Ops takes a moment to ask, from one reasonable human being to another, what are we willing to do in a game to be entertained? How far will we go?
For me the answer to that question is, in a word, unsettling.
Ok, seeing as I'm still reeling from the flying knee the Game of Thrones delivered to my knackers Monday just gone, the topic for today’s save state cblog seems especially timely in that it concerns a similarly indelible 'holly shit' moment - a moment that shattered my assumptions and did much to ground my tastes and expectations for many of the games I've played since. The game in question is Fear Effect and the 'moment' - well I'll come to that later - but first let me talk a little more generally about a title that remains, to this day, one of the most satisfying I've ever played: Fear Effect.
Developed for the original Playstation by Kronos Digital and published by Eidos in January 2000, Fear Effect is a cinematic, adventure game with strong survival horror leanings and follows the story of its three mercenary protagonists: Hana Tsu Vachel, Royce Glas and Deke DeCourt, as their plans to find and kidnap Wee Ming Lam, the missing daughter of a Hong Kong triad boss known as Mr. Lam, are unsettled when events take a sudden turn for the supernatural.
Delightfully dystopian, fantastically futuristic and unashamedly mature, dipping back into Fear Effect for the purposes of writing this blog confirmed to me many of the things that first drew me to the game. Easily one of the most visually striking PlayStation titles, Fear Effect combines full-motion-video environments and Japanese-animation-inspired 3-D character graphics to terrific effect. Similarly, the game boasts a magnificently menacing soundtrack, strong vocal performances and engaging plot. Superb stuff!
In any case, seeing as this blog is reading more like a review than it is a commentary on Fear Effects hitherto ‘make Fandango’s tiny little brain take a big shit’ instant, I should probably share with you all the moment that affected me so:
Mind. Fucking. Blown. So, let me get this straight: I* have to pick which of the two remaining protagonists (Deke having earlier been murdered whilst trying to infiltrate a brothel, only to be reanimated as a grotesque demon for the purposes of a boss fight much later on) kills the other? At the games apex, you’re forcing me to murder my one remaining partner in making a choice that either benefits the literal devil or its avatar of destruction? How dare you! Is that even allowed? That’s…that’s fucking awesome!
You know, looking back I can just about recall how conflicted I felt about what was being presented to me. Trying to reconcile the anger I felt at having Fear Effect place me in a narrative headlock with the surprise, excitement and apprehension I was somehow managing to experience all at once made for a wonderfully heady, hugely enjoyable, genre defining moment – one that’s remained with me to this day. My choice? Well I killed Glas because…well because…*ahem*…well because tits (Anita Sarkeesian forgive me).
Now, uncomfortable admissions notwithstanding, I’ll gladly hold my hands up and concede now that this ‘revelation’ is nothing like as powerful or sophisticated today as it first appeared to me all those years ago - and yes, playing through the game in ‘hard’ mode yields what many might consider to be an ‘optimum’ ending - but I would posit that there’s still plenty to admire in the conception, courage and delivery of a moment that makes a real commitment to storytelling (and in a way that doesn’t pander to the player).
On that point, I invite you all to take a moment and picture in your minds eye facing a similar choice - this time in the contemporary title of your choice. Me, my mind wandered off to ponder the potential of witnessing the uneasy alliance between Trip and Monkey in Enslaved shift differently in eventually coercing a similarly difficult dilemma. Cool, right? I also thought a little about the unrelenting joys of smashing Tails’ face repeatedly with a 12lb lump hammer, but I digress!
Ok then, seeing as this thing was meant to be a celebration of a favourite gaming moment and not a thinly veiled dig at the current state of the AAA game development, I’ll wrap up this briefest of blogs by saying that Fear Effect is a game that seeded in me an enduring love and respect for all those games that carry with them the courage of their convictions. It’s a game that delivered a hefty kick to my complacency, forcing me to re-evaluate my expectations and appreciate the value of murdering those who do not have awesome virtual boobies. Worthwhile stuff!
Here’s hoping I get to experience something similar again soon (I’m looking at you tails)!
Coming from a poor family, a lot of my gaming history comes from going to my cousins’ houses and playing on their consoles instead. I was addicted to my cousin’s PS1 and eventually begged my family to get one of our own. After finally getting one, besides playing X-Men vs. Street Fighter, we would also play demo discs over and over again as if they were full games because we were too poor to afford additional games. There were three demos I distinctly remember playing almost daily as an 8-9 year old kid. Those demos were for Tomba, Destrega, and finally, Einhander.
Einhander is a shoot-em-up, or Shmup, game developed and published by Squaresoft (now Square Enix) and was released in 1998, not too long after the release of Final Fantasy VII. Despite playing the demo more times than I could count, I never went around to purchasing Einhander and eventually forgot all about the game. It was only a few years ago that I remembered this game even existed, and through methods I won’t explain, I got the game running on my PSP and played it from beginning to end. Shmups were slowly reaching its stage of obscurity by the time Einhander was released. The game wasn’t even highly marketed and was most likely treated as a small side project. No one can say they saw this game coming, nor did anyone even want a Shmup from Squaresoft. However, what we got was a surprisingly well-made game, with not only deep gameplay mechanics, but an even deeper narrative.
What’s interesting about the human brain is that we are generally more affected by things we CANNOT see. Subtlety is key to presenting an engaging plot and likeable characters. Plus, it’s not exactly exciting to be spoon-fed information when half the fun of enjoying any story is coming up with questions and finding answers on your own. Oddly enough, I don’t believe Squaresoft was intentionally going down the subtle path and put little effort into exposing the story, as this wasn’t intended to be a huge hit in the first place. 10% of the story was presented in-game, while the rest could simply be found in the game’s physical manual (who reads those nowadays?).
If anyone is like me, and played the game before touching the manual (though in my case, I didn’t even have a manual), you were presented with a vague, yet sad tale of a pilot fighting for his people.
Einhander takes place in the distant future of 2092 in which Earth is made up of a single entity called the Empire, and humans who branched out from Earth and created the Moon Colony of Selene. Demanding independence from their Earthly superiors, the people of Selene waged war against the Empire, resulting in 100 years of the “First Moon War.” Despite huge losses from both sides, the Empire had overpowered Selene forces, and they were forced to retreat. Fast forward to 2245 and we now have Selene lacking in essential resources. The colony deemed it necessary to attack the Empire once again, as it was the only planet that housed said resources. Over the course of three years, Selene executes the attack program of Einhander, in which advanced fighter planes are deployed to cause as much damage as possible to lower the Empire’s defenses. You play as one of the pilots of these planes and dive straight into the Empire Capital of Gesetz, which happens to be Stage 1.
The Boss of Stage 1, a very familiar memory since this is when the demo ended
Alarms go off, sirens are blaring, and police officers are shouting at you in a foreign language. It’s clear these guys don’t want you to be here, and if you listen closely, all enemies actually speak German from Stages 1 to 5. According to the manual, the majority of the Earth was left in ruins because of previous battles with Selene. The Empire you see now was built on top of what would be Germany. In between each Stage, the player is given orders from EOS, the on-board AI of the Selene military satellite, Hyperion. This results in most of the story exposition in the game (and the only English you’ll hear in the game as well) as you complete one objective after another. It is until you reach the end of Stage 6 that the player is given a very strange “reward”…
After taking down the boss of Stage 6 and saving Selene from a lethal Empire attack, you receive a message from EOS, saying that tests of the latest EOS unmanned fighter are almost complete. For your heroic efforts, you have the honor of being the target of the final test. Upon your death, you will advance two classes and be rewarded with a Sirius decoration…wait what?
You can skip to 4:45 to hear the message
The screen fades to black, and you advance to a cutscene portraying EOS fighters opening fire on you. Before proceeding onto Stage 7, the final stage, the pilot himself questions why his own people are trying to terminate him. He also implies that he was being fed lies by his superiors, as they said Earth was a Utopian-esque society. However, players can see throughout the game that Earth was a barren wasteland not unlike Selene. The pilot comes to a conclusion, stating there was no purpose for further bloodshed if both sides were equally suffering. Stage 7 begins with another message from EOS, saying you are committing an act of treason and must remove all armaments and surrender. Without further input from the pilot, you take control once again, making your way back to Selene while destroying your fellow people.
Play skillfully enough, and you will reach the final boss of the game: Hyperion itself. After a long and arduous battle, Hyperion is defeated and the pilot speeds off towards the moon, destroying even more Selene forces along the way. The screen fades once again, and you are given a brief epilogue stating the war had come to an end once both sides became aware of their situations. A single entity was credited to bringing about this end, though the exact name was stricken from official history. Only those directly involved in the battle will remember the name: Einhander.
The final stage, including the final Boss battle, and epilogue
You are a man on a mission. You follow orders, you perform them exceptionally…and so, you are rewarded with death? What is going on?! Shmups aren’t known to have much…”character.” I’m sure the idea of a pilot doesn’t even cross players’ minds when playing these types of games. But despite the miniscule amount of narrative given in Einhander, getting just a few words from the pilot was enough for me to wonder what this guy was going through, and being hit with that twist at the end of Stage 6 was all the more deep and emotional for me.
Now here’s where the manual comes in handy. If you read the manual, you’ll realize there was a small tidbit I left out about the Einhander program. Yes, the purpose is to send pilots in to deal as much damage as possible, but I never mentioned they were supposed to come back did I? The pilot you control, and all pilots before him are fully aware that Einhander is in fact, a kamikaze mission. But when put in the hands of yourself, this pilot repels all attacks from the Empire and remains standing. So what else is there to do besides go back home, right? Yeah, wrong. You’ve seen Earth in all its barren glory. The higher ups of Selene have been lying to their people to have an excuse to (possibly) completely destroy Earth. Coming back with the information you hold will deem you a heretic. So, Selene basically thinks you are too awesome and flaunts a big promotion in your face that you will literally die for.
While not the most logical follow-up to an RPG like Final Fantasy VII, Einhander definitely delivered in terms of narrative prowess, which is something we all know Squaresoft was known for. Further research on the manual as well as the Japanese version of the game will reward you with even more depth to the story, including various German and Biblical references. Of course, that’s a story for another day. What’s special about Einhander, is that you can create a story by barely having one. Not unlike the highly-acclaimed Journey, the story of Einhander is put together by yourself. Here’s hoping we get an HD release of the game, so gamers of all ages can experience this PS1 Shmup gem.
Ah, the strategy RPG. Is there any genre that’s more in need of love? I highly doubt it. Whereas the current video game industry eats up any First Person Shooter, Western RPG or just straight-up Action game, the SRPG remains a niche genre. In fact, turn based strategy in itself may already be niche, god forbid it has leveling in it. “So it’s basically chess, but the pawns have faces on them?” you’ll hear people ask. To which we of course eloquently reply: “NUH-UH”! But for those of us who do appreciate a good strategy game every once in a while, there is always Fire Emblem.
Fire Emblem, a series that itself was not being released in the West until people playing Super Smash Bros. Melee started wondering “who the hell are Marth and Roy?”. With Lyndis’ story on the GBA, however, Nintendo finally answered the calls of the Western gamers who couldn’t wait to jump into a series that has been so popular in Japan. But even with the GBA game and its sequel, Fire Emblem didn’t really take off until the Nintendo Gamecube got treated to a little game called Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance. Ike and the Greil Mercenaries were responsible for creating many new fans of the series, and Ike himself remains a recognizable face. As we all know, he even replaced Roy in the latest Smash Bros. And that’s when you know you’ve made it as a Nintendo character.
But one of the most important characters in Path of Radiance has always been shrouded in mystery; little is known about him except that he loves gold. And yet he’s the subject of today’s Save State.
As always, spoilers abound.
The Setup The basic story of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance is as follows. Greil, leader of the Greil Mercenaries and father to both Ike and Mist, enjoys a quiet life in the country of Crimea, where him and his loveable band of rogues make their money tossing bandits out of places where they don’t belong. Ike and Mist’s mother, Elena, died when they were both still very young, and Greil has been a single parent ever since. Although the Mercenaries don’t get paid much, it’s always enough and they do good work, ensuring the safety of all.
Of course, this life of relative peace can’t last forever. Crimea’s neighbor Daein, under the rule of the mad king Ashnard, invades the country with brutal efficiency. As a result, the Greil Mercenaries are put on the side of Crimea’s own army, trying to defend themselves against an army that outclasses theirs in every possible way. Rather suspiciously, from the moment of the attacks Greil decides to put Ike in charge of the Greil Mercenaries, something he’s never really done before…almost like he’s preparing Ike for something.
That something soon becomes apparent. In a duel sought out by the greatest general in Daein’s army, the mysterious Black Knight, Greil is mortally wounded. Ike has to watch it happen right in front of him. And not too long after, Greil dies in Ike’s arms. The Black Knight himself is not satisfied; he was obviously expecting more of a challenge, remarking in disappointment: “…no…resistance?”
- Ike and Mist mourn their father at his grave, marked by his weapon of choice: his trusty axe.
With Greil dead, Ike is the only one left to lead the Mercenaries. And that’s where our real story begins.
Not too long after Greil’s demise, a rather suspicious fellow approaches Ike. His name is Volke. He only wants one thing: to speak with Greil. He refuses to even just tell Ike what his business is with his father: Volke will speak to Greil, and Greil alone. That is, of course, until he is told that Greil has recently died. Upon hearing that, Volke reveals that he is in ‘intelligence’, and is willing to share an important report for the 'nominal' fee of 50,000 gold. While the report was meant for Greil alone, Ike is a valid substitute. But it goes without saying that the Mercenaries have nowhere near that amount of cash laying around. So I guess we’ll just send Volke on his merry way, right? How important could that report really be?
- You are SO ripping us off right now.
Well, not exactly.
I mean, Volke looks like a resourceful kind of guy, and it just so happens that the Mercenaries’ next mission involves rescuing a bunch of prisoners. He looks useful, at least. And who knows, perhaps a shady guy like him would know a thing or two about picking locks? As a matter of fact, he does! For a small fee of 50 gold per lock (the money-grubbing bastard!) he’ll be perfectly willing to help out the team for a little bit. And with that, Ike has a new recruit on the team: Volke, the Thief.
As expected, he instantly makes himself useful during the mission that follows. There are lots of locked cells and treasure chests around, and although he charges for each one, the gains far outweigh the costs. From even more new recruits (including fan-favorite Nephenee) to a whole slew of new items, Volke has more than proven his worth.
And we’re in luck! Despite claiming that he’d only help us out for the one battle, it seems that Volke has taken a liking to the Greil Mercenaries. He decides to join Ike and his team for the rest of the way. They have “sparked [his] curiosity”…and I guess he hasn’t got anything better to do? While Ike still has some suspicions, ultimately everyone decides to let Volke tag along. He’s not the most trustworthy guy, but hey. The Greil Mercenaries can use any help they can get their hands on, and he has already proven himself useful once before. Besides, as Soren observes: “He is a dubious character at best, but at least we know his motives. Everything begins and ends with gold. He'll be easy to control.” Finally, having Volke travel with them makes it all the easier to give him his money once they’ve saved up enough. It could take a while, but he doesn’t really seem to mind. For now, Ike knows his team strengthened with a shiny new knife-wielding lock-picking Thief. Permanently, this time.
But how does this rather suspicious guy know Greil in the first place? And why did he suddenly become so cooperative when he learned that Ike was Greil’s son? Not to mention, it seems a tad difficult to believe that a Thief like him would join the Mercenaries just because he’s ‘curious’.
And on top of everything, he’s still got that report to give…
The Moment A long time after Volke has joined the troupe, Ike is in for a stroke of luck. After an excruciating battle against Daein’s forces, what does he find but a whole fort full of gold! Naturally, because it all used to belong to the Daein army, nobody has any objections to just taking the lot as spoils of war. Ike entrusts the gold to the team’s financial advisor….but there’s the little matter of that 50,000 gold he has a very good use for. After all this time, Volke has been paid. In full.
And now for that report.
- WELL FUCK!
So that’s it? It was all for nothing?
Well, no. It turns out that Volke never had a report that he wanted to give to Greil. But he does have some other information. He just didn’t want to share it with Ike until he deemed him ready to hear…what may be a shocking truth. And the 50,000 gold? Well, he likes gold a lot. What can you say?
Volke, it turns out, once had an important contract with Greil himself. He was to shadow Greil wherever he went, and if necessary…to kill him. Volke explains it all:
Ike’s mother once possessed an historic artifact, Lehran’s Medallion, also known as the Fire Emblem. Upon her death, it went to Mist. However, dark powers rest within the medallion: anyone not pure of heart who touched it would instantly go berserk. And this is the fate that had befallen Greil. Greil was once a high-ranking general in the armies of Daein, but all of that changed when he touched the Fire Emblem. Gone completely berserk, Greil slayed every soldier who crossed his path with little difficulty and even less remorse. He killed enemies, complete strangers, and even friends.
In the end, he even killed that which he loved most: his wife.
And only when he saw his wife impaled by his own sword did he regain his senses. Haunted by the vision of Elena dead by his own hand, he swore never to pick up a sword again. He was serious too: he slashed the tendons of his right arm to make sure it could never happen again. And as a final measure, a failsafe, he hired Volke to kill him if he ever went berserk again.
Volke himself almost refused, because he knew of Greil's reputation. Greil was hailed as one of the best swordsmen in the world, and it was no coincidence that his berserker rage at the hands of Lehran's Medallion caused as much destruction as it did. There's no way even someone as sneaky as Volke would be able to take him down. Only when it has become clear that Greil has crippled himself to the point where he could never hold a sword again does Volke agree to the contract...if just barely.
Finally, Volke had one other job: to tell Ike the entire story once Greil was dead and Ike was mature enough to hear it.
And when he has finally explained all that needed explaining, Volke offers Ike a new contract: to become part of the Mercenaries once more…and to kill Ike, should the need ever arise.
Now knowing the dangers of Lehran’s Medallion, which is still with Mist after all, as well as the true fate of his parents, Ike can't do anything but agree.
And with that, Volke shows his true colors. A thief no longer, he becomes what he has always been:
Volke, the Assassin.
Unfortunately, there’s no good video available, given that this moment is strictly text-based. This Let’s Play page however, does a good job of capturing it.
The Impact Well, that certainly changes a few things.
There are a couple of reasons for why I particularly like this moment. For one, I feel that it is particularly strong because it just goes to show that in Fire Emblem, any character can be a vital piece of the puzzle. Even a suspicious guy such as Volke, who’s only real interest seems to be in gold, has important extra baggage. This is only strengthened by the fact that, in true Fire Emblem form, any of your team members can permanently die. So your Mage took one blow too many? Who can say, he may have known a thing or two about king Ashnard. And Volke is just a Thief, right? Surely we can miss him! As our moment shows, no you can't. Moreover, I like how the moment is set up way in advance, from the very first moment Volke joins the crew, but has an immense pay-off when it finally arrives. It puts many things in an entirely new light.
Ike lost both of his parents over one strange medallion, and in the worst way possible. He now knows why his father was such a feared warrior, and how his mother passed away. More than that, he knows what the mad king Ashnard and his Black Knight are truly after. Ashnard wants to harness the power inside the Fire Emblem to win the war once and for all, and expand his empire across the entire continent. It was never just about the invasion of Crimea: Ashnard knew that Greil took the Fire Emblem with him into hiding. The Black Knight, meanwhile, just wanted to prove himself against the famous Greil, the most powerful general in Daein's history. And why wasn’t he satisfied with the fight? Because ever since that fateful night, Greil has never again been at his full strength. That is also why he’s still following Ike and co. around: Ike is the only one left who could match Greil’s potential, so the only way for the Black Knight to prove himself the best…is through killing Ike once he has become strong enough to rival his father.
- Which goes about as well as you'd expect, by the way.
But I think the most interesting thing about this moment is Volke himself. He may be an assassin, and he deems himself very good at his job (rightly so, I might add), but there’s just no way he could ever beat Greil. Greil may have crippled himself to make it a bit easier, but he was still able to wield a giant axe with deadly efficiency. On top of that, someone gone completely berserk wouldn’t hold anything back. Volke would face a tireless madman waving a giant axe around, and with a reputation for knowing how to use it. There’s just no way he would ever stand a chance. He knows this.
And yet he takes the job anyway. Was it just for the gold? He never did explain what he needs all that gold for, but it does seem to be his one focus in life. It could be that he simply decided to take the gamble and hope for the best. Or was there maybe something more to it? Perhaps he felt for Greil, who had to live in the knowledge that he killed his own wife, not to mention many of his friends and comrades-in-arms. Perhaps Volke wanted to protect Ike and Mist against their father. Both were still very young at the time, and survived purely by the incredible luck that they weren’t around when Greil touched the Fire Emblem. Could they survive if it happened again? Who knows, maybe Volke himself had a wife once, or children; maybe he knows what it’s like to lose a loved one. Maybe he was unable to save his own family and wanted to save Greil's instead. Or perhaps his mind was more on the grand scheme of things. It could be that he wanted to shadow Greil to prevent the Fire Emblem from ever falling into the wrong hands. He might not be able to take on a berserk Greil, but he can sure stick a knife in some over-enthusiastic bandit’s back. That way, he could make sure that this powerful medallion stayed safe.
Finally, while he already doubted if he could ever kill Greil if something went wrong, he shows no fear of doing the same to Ike. In fact, he himself suggests that Ike make the contract. But Volke knows perfectly well that Ike has trained very hard with his father, that he has the potential to be as great a swordsman as Greil ever was…and no slashed tendons to hamper him. Surely, Volke must realize that he can kill Ike no more than he could kill Greil. So again I ask: just the gold? Maybe. However, in Path of Radiance’s sequel he pays Ike the 50,000 gold right back, seemingly for no good reason.
The greatest thing about this moment is that it makes you wonder. There is a lot of backstory behind this guy which is never really shared, and the game subtly tries to make you fill in the blanks for yourself. Who is Volke really, why did he ever become an assassin, and why would he ever take a job he had no way of carrying out, twice? All that for a character who, when you first meet him, seems like he cares nothing for anything but money. That is something we don't see too often in video games nowadays, and why Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance stands out in my mind.
One thing is for sure, whatever Volke’s real motives. Truly, an assassin takes on any job.