Tag Archives: game

Half Life 2: for Adults Only

Though compared to most it’s a relatively new medium, video games already have quite a few titles in their ranks that are deemed masterpieces or classics. Some of the newer ones are the Last of Us, Breath of the Wild, and Overwatch. If we go back in recent decades, we can include titles in that list like Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, Super Mario 64, Halo, and the list goes on and on. These are titles that, when you call yourself a gamer, you’re expected to have played, or at least have a decent knowledge of.

Valve’s Orange Box collection has been burning a hole in my backlog for a few years now. A close friend of mine sold me a bunch of old games he had played and didn’t want anymore, and among them was that. For those that don’t know, the Orange Box includes Half Life 2, it’s two expansion packs, Portal, and Team Fortress 2. I played Portal a few years ago, and TF2 is a multiplayer so that I don’t really consider to be part of my “backlog”. Half Life 2 however, got lost amidst a lot of other titles I was trying to add to my portfolio… until I recently popped the game into my console.

 

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I started the game and immediately took a few things in. Even for an old game, the sound and art design both felt surprisingly… clean. Yes, I could certainly tell that some voice actors had been double booked, and a few textures looked a little muddier than they would nowadays, but even my wife was surprised that HL2 had been released almost 15 years ago. From a technical standpoint, the game holds up.

I walked into HL2 having never played the first, but the plotline wasn’t hard to get a handle on. My silent protagonist, Gordon Freeman, helped open a wormhole that let some bad aliens through. They tried to take over earth. They succeeded. Now there’s only a small group of freedom fighters that are willing to stand up to the oppressive “Combine”, and they’re very outmatched. Gordon, however, is something of a legend because of the one-man warfare he waged in the first Half Life, and every time you walk into a room you’re met with phrases like “Are you him? Are you really Gordon Freeman?” If nothing else, I could tell my ego was going to enjoy this game.

The gameplay itself, however, felt like a solid, yet pretty generic first-person shooter. Yes its crisp, yes the enemy AI is great, but the game didn’t offer me anything new… at first. I think I went into HL2 with such rose-tinted glasses, in no small part thanks to hearing about how legendary this game was from everyone and their mom over the years, that I expected to be absolutely blown away by something new and life changing.

Needless to say, I didn’t get that. But with that being said, as I played through the main title and its two expansions immediately after, I very quickly realized this game had earned its praise. And to accurately explain that, I need explain the title of this article in a bit more detail.

The phrase “Adults Only” in video games can often be found amidst gasps and scandalous glances. For those that don’t know, an “A-O” game rating is the equivalent of an NC-17 film. It’s a very rare occurrence, and is reserved only for the games that have the most extreme amounts of violence and sexual content. Half Life 2 is only rated “M”, so what did I discover to make such an accusation? Is it the steamy, over-the-top full nude scene between Gordon and and the lovely Alyx? Or perhaps using the gravity gun to tear the entrails out of an enemy and throw it back at them?

 

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Oh Gordon, talk dir- oh wait, you don’t talk. Uhhh, sign dirty to me? Hum dirty to me? Blink three times for dirty?

 

… of course not, because those things don’t happen. Honestly I’m surprised Half Life 2 isn’t rated “T”, it’s a pretty mild game content-wise. No when I say it’s for “Adults Only” I’m not talking about an ESRB rating… I’m talking about the gameplay itself. And in order to convey what I mean by that, I’m going to reference the two games that bookended my HL2 playthrough: Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag, and Tomb Raider: Underworld.

Despite the hate the series has received in recent years (mostly thanks to beautiful catastrophe that was Unity), I am a huge fan of the AC series. It’s one of those guilty pleasure games I play when I don’t want to be challenged and I want my hand held. Playing AC is like going through a historic power trip. It’s easy, it’s comfortable, and after getting a few titles in the franchise under your belt, it’s familiar. Though the series has definitely evolved over the years, the core gameplay is undeniably the same. Because of this, I not only was able to breeze through Black Flag’s campaign, but I had completed almost half the side missions before barely clearing a story mission. I am at the point in that series where I don’t even have to think or strategize. I can look at the building layout, see who my target is, and they’ll barely be able to blink before I’m having that infamous “AC Death” conversation with them.

 

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Bob! How are you man! Wife and kids doing good? The weather is gorgeous today. It’s so convenient how your guards are letting us just chat like this.

 

Half Life 2 never, ever made me feel comfortable. And I don’t mean that in the sense that I was jumpy the whole time (although don’t get me started on those freaking head crabs), but I never knew what was coming next. There was never a point in that game where I felt like I could predict exactly what was ahead. I turned every corner cautiously, my shotgun ready for anything. Every upcoming area was heavily scrutinized before walking into it, trying to ensure I didn’t dive headlong into an ambush. Even still, HL2 surprised me on numerous occasions, even after I’d clocked over 10 hours into the main campaign and was well into the expansions. I never felt safe, every checkpoint was met with a huge sigh of relief, and it always felt like an accomplishment when I realized I was going in the right direction. Actually, that’s the other thing the game did a great job of in terms of feeling “fresh”: even though it’s a linear game, Valve designed the areas and maps so well that you never are exactly sure if you’re going the right way. Whereas modern games practically have a gigantic neon sign and and NPCs screaming “I AM PRETTY SURE IF YOU WANT TO FIND THE NEXT AREA, YOU SHOULD GO THROUGH HERE”, HL2, always let you stumble onto the correct path yourself. It wanted you to figure out where to go, not tell you. Realizing you were on the right path came with a huge amount of satisfaction.

The game I played after HL2 was Tomb Raider: Underworld. Underworld is the final game in the “Legends Trilogy”, the second iteration of Lara Croft. Though it can’t hold a candle to the newer Tomb Raider series, or something like the Uncharted games, as someone who grew up with Lara’s brash, confident, double-desert-eagle-wielding era, these older iterations of her hold a special place in my heart. I’d completed both TR: Legends and TR: Anniversary (the first two titles of the trilogy) awhile ago, so I figured it was time to round out the series. Like the first two, the game is comprised of some decent to great puzzles, fun platforming, and less-than-impressive combat. Yet again, like AC but in a different way, the gameplay felt safe. It felt predictable. The world didn’t seem to run in a way that made sense for the real world, but it felt 100% like a game. Ledges are not only conveniently crumbled exactly how I need them to be, but they’re even aged to all be the exact same color so that I can clearly see where I need to jump. Puzzles, though by no means boring, never made me feel like I had to think about them. “I’m missing four gears for this machine. There are four towers. I bet I know where those gears are.”

 

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Take note architects.

 

It felt set up, it felt like Jigsaw from the Saw movies had built every level and was watching me run through the motions the whole time. It wasn’t organic, it all felt very false. The puzzles in Half Life 2, however, never felt that way. In fact, it almost feels insulting to call them “puzzles”. The game is designed so seamlessly that each obstacle feels just like that: an obstacle. A very real problem with a very real world solution.

The best example of this in my opinion was a point where I had to power a machine to operate a mechanical door. I knew I had to open the door to progress, but it was very obvious the thing wasn’t getting the juice it needed. So I let gamer Jonathan take over. Was there a way to jump over the door/gate and just move forward? No, no there wasn’t. Was there some magic switch to power everything? No, not that either. I went through all my usual tricks, and nothing worked. Then I had a thought. What if I didn’t think like a gamer? What if I just thought like, me?

I went back to square one, and analyzed the door. The control panel had a wire connected to it. I slowly looked up, and realized that unlike EVERY GAME EVER MADE EVER, the wire actually climbed up, went across a pole, and led to a specific little building a bit away. I figured why not, may as well check it out. Every game previously has taught me that if I was supposed to follow that wire, it would be bright pink and my companion character would have gotten her degree in Advanced Wire Studies. But, maybe the little building would have some extra ammo. So, I followed the wire, walked in, and found a health pack. Then I looked left.

No way.

What looked like a complicated breaker system was staring back at me, and it’s hard to describe the excitement I felt. HL didn’t want me to think like a gamer, it wanted me to think like me. Valve put so much work into this world that they wanted you to play this game like a human being, not a human being that has played 100 video games before. I immediately studied the breaker system. Three outlets, each clearly meant to house a battery. The wire I had followed attached to the outlet on the far right. There was one battery already in the far left outlet.

“What a fun puzzle this was” I thought to myself. I removed the battery from its original outlet, and put it in the one attached to the wire. I confidently walked back to what I expected to be a fully open door. The door was still down. A little surprised, I went back to the breaker system. This time I noticed that the outlets were all connected, and thought maybe I had to find two more batteries to fill the two remaining outlets. Sure enough, after searching through the building, I found a second battery under some debris. Feeling confident, I realized that I just had to find one more battery and I could power the door. I searched the building. Nothing. I searched around the perimeter of the building. Still nothing. I looked in other buildings. I looked near the door itself. No dice.

 

HL2 Puzzle

I will say though, non-gamer Jonathan was very hesitant about the decorator’s tastes.

 

I went back to the breaker system one more time and really analyzed it. Then I (manually, believe me, manually), tried switching off the gamer in me and looked at it as just Jonathan. I looked at the design of the batteries. These definitely weren’t the type you could buy at CVS. They were bigger, square ones, like the kind you would find in a…

A lightbulb kicked on. I ran outside the building and looked around. Sure enough, I saw a pair of headlights sticking out from under some debris a bit away. I ran over, thinking to myself there was no way this was going to work, tore off the debris, and ripped the hood of the car off the body. What awaited me underneath, still attached to the engine, was a car battery. A removeable car battery. I grabbed it, ran back to the breaker, and sure enough. The lights came on, I heard an engine whirring, and I ran outside to be greeted by the mechanics of the door opening, allowing me to move forward.

This, to me, is why HL2 is for adults, because it wants you to think like an adult. It wants you to look at a situation and analyze what you would do, and try it. It doesn’t hold your hand, it doesn’t depend on your previous knowledge of other games to get you through. It doesn’t have massive signs or fireworks going off in the direction you’re supposed to go. Half Life 2 wants you to, like real life, be faced with a problem and not know immediately how to solve it. It wants you to use critical thinking, to fail and try again, and to feel a deep sense of satisfaction when you finally do overcome it. It doesn’t hold your hand, it doesn’t baby you.

Though it came out in the early 2000’s, Half Life 2 left an impression on me most modern games haven’t even come close to. It’s designed to feel like it isn’t designed. And whereas games like Assassin’s Creed and Tomb Raider give you satisfaction when you beat a level, or when you accomplish some great task, HL just made me feel pleased with myself for opening a door. And let me tell you, when you get to be an adult… you’re thankful for every open door you come across.

-Jonathan Wine, Creative Director of Wyvern Interactive

 

The images in this post are not the property of or made in association with Wyvern. We do not claim ownership over any of these characters or photographs. 

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The Morrigan Complex

You know how, throughout history, there are those characters that everyone seems to feel the same way about? As an example, on one hand, take a look at Disney’s Mulan: An incredibly strong, determined, brave warrior, and an overall great representation of exactly what amazing things women can do. On the other hand…What about Dolores Umbridge? Let’s be honest, all of us were cheering when the abusive wretch got dragged off into the forest by centaurs.

Whether it be in films, books, TV-shows, or another single-story medium, most characters (with some exceptions) bring out the same reactions in people because those characters were written in one script to make the viewer feel a certain way about them during the course of their story. Those characters only have one set sequence of events to show who they are. (I’m not saying these characters are flat, as many of the greatest characters of all time are extremely fleshed out and have huge backstories that span an entire series.) The problem, though, is that the viewer only sees what happens to them. If that character dies, there is nothing the viewer can do to prevent their death. If a character is romanced, we have no power over how that happened or who it happened with. Basically, we have no say in the matter.

Video games, however, do something pretty amazing. In a video game, especially in the more modern ones that are driven by the choices the player makes, we don’t just watch these characters. For the time we’re playing, we’re living in the same world as them, and many times our own opinion is brought into the discussion on whether their choices are morally right or wrong, and if they’re a character worth keeping at your side or if they’re not worthy of your trust at all. Your decisions completely change the world around you, and those choices not only impact who you are in the world, but who the characters around you become, what they do, what happens to them, and more. So, in short, if you and I play the same game in different ways, your best friend could be my worst enemy.

After realizing just how earth shattering these differences can be, I nicknamed this character-evolving phenomenon “The Morrigan Complex”.

Morrigan and Alistair

Why that title, you ask? My best friend and I began discussing this topic more and more recently, and we both found out after describing our gameplay experiences of the Dragon Age series that the main characters in her game vs. my game were COMPLETELY different people. The characters who I trusted with my life were the ones that she described as being so weak that they dragged her down. On the flipside, the characters who she developed strong friendships with were the ones I thought were going to betray me in the end and I was just waiting for them to prove me right. Both of us were stunned to hear how things were on the other side and I couldn’t help but sit back in wonder, realizing that literally no other medium could ever do this to people.

The two characters who really drive this point home for us are Morrigan and Alistair in Dragon Age: Origins. If you have never played the game, Morrigan is a mage who lives by her own rules with an extremely famous and widely feared mother known as the “Witch of the Wilds”. Alistair is a warrior who is part of a huge alliance known as the “Grey Wardens” that you join at the beginning of the game. Those are pretty much the only similarities our characters had. After that, things just went insane.

SPOILER WARNING: Major spoilers for the Dragon Age series follow this. If you do not want spoilers, skip down to the “SPOILER SAFE ZONE”.

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My play through of Dragon Age: Origins had me more emotionally invested in it than I think I have ever been with a game in my life. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of playing into the obvious “romance options” that most decision-based games give you. In fact, I actively try to avoid them. Most of the time, the dialogue feels forced and there’s something about a character breaking from the story to suddenly be like, “You’re the protagonist and I LOVE YOU BECAUSE THAT IS HOW I WAS WRITTEN,” that takes me out of it. I’m just not interested.

Origins, however, was different. At first, I was not a huge fan of Alistair. He seemed cocky and mean, and if he existed in the world today, I wouldn’t have been surprised to see his sword and armor replaced by football gear and a brew. He definitely seemed like the fantasy version of a sports jock to me. However, at one point maybe thirty minutes to an hour into the game, I remember him making a joke that made me stop, look at him, and burst into laughter because it was exactly like my sense of humor. I took a breath, thought about it, and realized that hey, this guy wasn’t that bad after all. After a bit of joking back and forth, we basically became best bros, with the two of us warriors fighting in the front side by side. As the game went on, I got closer to him and eventually, it passed the point of us being friends. I did what I could to help him find his family and joked when he needed a second to lighten up and come back from a dark place. I had never experienced something this personal in a game before, but dammit, I was in love with this character. In the end of the game, without giving me any choice in the matter, he even sacrificed himself to save me.

Which made the storyline with Morrigan a little…tense. From the beginning, I never got the feeling that I could trust Morrigan. She would constantly insult Alistair and she would try to take things for herself with no regard for the rest of the party. She would refuse to give me information on old magics that she clearly knew about, kept secrets from the party that could have helped us, and she constantly questioned my decisions and insulted what I was fighting for. Eventually, when she finally opened up to me and expressed her fear of her mother and interest in recovering her book of magic, I decided to help, hoping it would allow me to see the true Morrigan and repair some of the damage in our relationship. However, the moment I retrieved the book for her, she would barely speak to me about what it really meant. She was constantly reading it, and the more she hinted at its secrets, the more it sounded like she wanted to use the same evil magic her mother was infamous for. Then, when she, towards the end of the game, came to me wanting to perform an ancient ritual from her mother’s texts, I turned her down and told her to get out of my sight. I was not going to make a deal with the devil and she had given me NO reasons to trust her. My “Alistair” was the warrior who loved me and saved my life and my “Morrigan” was the witch who tried to take everything away.

Morrigan and Alistair 2

Allison played things a little differently. She made decisions that she thought would benefit the whole world, looking at problems from all sides without letting her emotions get in the way. Her priority was ending the blight, and she would stop at nothing to achieve that goal, even if it meant making some morally gray decisions. Her first opinion of Alistair was not much different from my own, seeing him as this cocky jock-like character. After the first major battle she tried to rally Alistair to push past his personal emotions in order to fight the blight. Alistair did not take too kindly to her methods and as a result, Alistair was weak in her game and she thought of him as extremely whiney, so she never took him into battle with her. When Allison took charge of the politics in choosing the future ruler(s) of Ferelden, she arranged for the current Queen, Anora, to marry Alistair (which he hesitantly agreed to) because she believed this would be the best course of action for the country.  However, Anora had requested that Allison show leniency towards Loghain (Anora’s Father), who betrayed several people during the blight.  Allison decided that killing him would be destroying a wealth of military knowledge that could aid in the final battle against the archdemon, so she decided to make him a grey warden.  Alistair strongly opposed this idea and stormed off and became a drunkard.

Since Allison didn’t have this innate bond with Alistair it made her interactions with Morrigan vastly different. Allison immediately saw the potential in Morrigan to be a powerful ally that could help end the blight, because she brought a unique understanding of the blight and magic to the party. Since Allison’s only motivation was to end the blight, she quickly decided that she needed to earn Morrigan’s trust/friendship.  Allison quickly gained Morrigan’s trust largely because the decisions she made in game were to help end the blight even if that meant choosing a morally gray option.  During personal conversations with Morrigan she was always brutally honest with Morrigan and always called her out when she said something that was inappropriate/wrong.  Morrigan eventually trusted her and after receiving the grimoire willingly discussed the contents with Allison. Prior to the final battle when Morrigan confided in her there was a ritual that could save her life, Allison agreed.  Allison also agreed that the safest course of action to protect Morrigan from her mother was for her to disappear. Allison’s “Alistair” was the drunkard who wasn’t worth her time and her “Morrigan” was her best friend who used her powers to save her.

SPOILER SAFE ZONE

Allison and I are best friends with very similar personalities, yet when it came to this series, our decisions were so varied that our characters became completely different people. Hearing about her play through was like seeing into a parallel universe. So, why is “The Morrigan Complex” so important that I felt the need to write about it?

Because this is the power that games have. Video games, at their core, are an art form that is used to allow the player to directly impact what happens in a world based on how they interact with it. You didn’t dodge Bowser fast enough? Say hello to the Mario Brothers “Game Over” screen. You decided to harvest a few little sisters instead of saving them all in Bioshock? Congratulations, you have just become Satan incarnate. Your decisions, whether they are rooted in your emotional investment, skill, moral choices, or carefully planned strategy, are what influence what you see, and that makes games all the more beautiful. Your play through of a game and mine will never be exactly the same, and that is an achievement that should be celebrated. Games are designed specifically to put that power in your hands, so you can have a say in how your story will end. Those differences between our characters doesn’t make them any worse. In fact, even though I never got along with Morrigan, I still think she is a fantastically written character, especially now that I know how other people see her, too. Your best friend may be my worst enemy, and that’s completely okay. In the end, it’s not about who might be “evil” and who might be “good”. It’s about the fact that we, as players, actually have a say in the matter.

Nerissa Hart, Marketing Admin Assistant for Wyvern Interactive

 

Image 1. Artist Unknown. Link Source: https://ifunny.co/tags/morrigan/1455809336

Image 2. Artist Unknown. Link Source: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/73/ea/06/73ea0660bca3a70017d1a028d547ad29

Image 3. Artist Unknown. Link Source: https://www.google.com/search?q=alistair+and+morrigan&biw=1366&bih=586&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwj88eSHguTMAhULWz4KHSxMBs4Q_AUIBigB#tbm=isch&q=alistair+and+morrigan+art+toadstool&imgrc=tJSYnoqqGK2_DM%3A

Why I Do This

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Jonathan Wine, during his time studying at George Mason University.

You know the feeling you get when a song is stuck in your head? You could be driving your car, sitting at work, brushing your teeth, anything… and out of nowhere that beat comes into your mind, and you find yourself singing the chorus, and maybe the one full verse you actually know? Everyone goes through that. Maybe it’s the newest catchy thing on the radio, a Disney song, or something you just heard off a new Pandora recommendation.

Imagine now though that instead of a beat… what your mind constantly calls up is a world. An entire world, brimming with scenery, cultures, and history, and instead of lyrics you get a cast of characters with their own trials, victories, personalities and everything else that goes into defining the word “being.” These don’t pop into your brain from JUST hearing something though; maybe they come from seeing a screenshot of a far-away place. Maybe they come from a sentence, or a tone, or the most powerful instigator of all: an experience. If you’re imagining that…Welcome to what every moment is like inside my head.

I’ve always been a storyteller, though I didn’t always know it. For a while I thought I was going to be a comic book illustrator, but I quickly realized I cared much more about Batman’s motivations, his intricacies, and how he was going to take down the next villain than the style of his suit or the pose he was striking overlooking Gotham on some rooftop. Once I locked into this, I figured out even faster I had to tell stories through games. Not because I’m a big gamer (I really wasn’t until college), but because the game can totally get the “tune” out of my head: I can make every corner of that entire world, I can bring those characters to life in all their glory… I can put you IN the story.

I don’t want to get the tune out because it bothers me either; quite the contrary. It’s A, because I REALLY want to experience them myself. If you can find me someone who doesn’t get excited by seeing their work in front of them, I’ll show you someone who needs to find a new career. And B, most importantly, because I know I can touch people with them. I know I can inspire them. More on that later.

The title of this post though, is “Why I Do This.” And that’s the reason. Because I want to enhance people’s lives through stories. But the title also means something else. “Why do I keep doing something that’s going to take so much back-tracking and be this insanely frustrating and difficult?” (You can see why I went with the former title.) The answer to that one is thanks to two individuals, my “two” best friends. You’ll understand later why that has quotation marks around it.

I graduated with my Associate’s in 2012, and starting that Fall semester I knew I would be living on campus at George Mason University, a Junior in their Computer Game Design program. I was beyond excited, but I was also nervous. I love my parents dearly, and I knew that leaving them would be tough (my dad has a medical condition that makes mobility difficult, and I had been trying to help my family any way I could), and my brain was racing to figure out more and more ways to guilt me, scare me, and convince me going was a bad idea. My parents were excited for me to go…But as the calendar days got crossed off, I got more and more apprehensive. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if they REALLY needed me at home when something went down? What if I had picked the wrong career this whole time and everyone had 400 page scripts in their heads, and I was just being pretentious thinking I had the right to follow up on it?

It took my best friend, dragging me outside by practically my ear, to set me straight.

I love this dude, and he and I have been best friends since we were 7. So by the time we had gotten around to college age, we were at that point where we didn’t only know just what to say, we knew exactly how it had to be said. After a very long, emotional conversation filled with analogies, sarcasm, tears and laughs, he looked me dead in the eye, put his hand on my shoulder, and said with an unwavering confidence: “Jonathan, we’ve been best friends for almost two decades. I know you… J-Man, you were born to do this. Now go do it. Go tell those stories.” I inhaled, nodded, and was unpacking in my dorm before I knew it.

The next two+ years of getting the degree went by like a flash. I met people who are now some of my dearest friends, I got engaged to my high school sweetheart (now wife, might I add), I found an absolutely amazing team, and of course founded Wyvern officially. It was great…and very overwhelming. 

I would be lying if I said some days I hadn’t almost lost track of why I was there. The passion never died, and the stories were always still in my head, but some days those got buried by homework, projects, exams, wedding plans, and realizations that I hadn’t eaten in 10 hours. Life always manages to find a way to fill itself up with stress and anxiety, and mine was no exception. By senior year, I was a wreck, and sometimes the only way to cool my brain off on a school night was to play (not make) a game. But ironically, the thing that rejuvenated everything again, the thing that pushed me back into the most passionate mindset I know how to have… was just that. A video game.

I am not afraid to tear up if something touches me. I’m very comfortable with that part of myself. I will let loose a few floodgates at movies, shows, books, games, great pieces of music…you name it. So in my last semester, when my roommate saw me biting my lip at a particularly “bromantic” scene in a game, he probably just thought I was being me. But it went so, so much deeper than that.

Just to give warning: very mild spoilers ahead for Mass Effect 3.

In the very final act of ME3, you get a respite before the final battle. Like any game, this

Garris Vakarian

Garrus Vakarian, Mass Effect 3 (Copyright Bioware 2016, Wyvern does not claim any ownership of this character or the games it is affiliated with)

 

point is made to let you make any tweaks on your character, make any final upgrades, save your game, etc. But because Bioware is amazing, it is also one long, beautifully crafted goodbye. Commander Shepherd, your character, has the opportunity to have a last few personal, intimate moments with every member of the Normandy crew that has become such a tight-knit family. It’s a really peaceful, wonderful set of interactions… one of which I was totally unprepared for. One of the most organic aspects of the Mass Effect series is how every person that plays it always has a different favorite character, different favorite moment, etc. But for me, my boy was always Garrus Vakarian. He was funny, he was willing to get in my face… and he always reminded me of… someone. I guess he just had one of “those” personalities. As for a favorite moment, the one I’m about to list hit me harder than any other art medium ever has. It defined EVERYTHING that a game should be for me, and most importantly, helped me remember what made me…me.

Again, without getting too spoiler heavy, the conversation with my Turian buddy started off sarcastic and quippy…until it didn’t. Out of nowhere, Garrus throws out a line akin to “I don’t know if human heaven and Turian heaven are the same place, but if it is, meet me at the bar.”

Thanks Garrus, here come the misty eyes.

But he wasn’t done, oh no. He had one final gut-punch waiting for me. Garrus looked at my character, smiled, and said: “Oh and Shepherd, forgive the insubordination, but this old friend has an order for you… Go out there. And give them hell. You were born to do this.”

I was too stunned to cry. Then I wasn’t. I lost it. I sat in my dorm, and the conversation two years ago came at me like a flood. I had to put down my controller and just sit for a while to take it all in. “You were born to do this.”

That familiarity I had always felt with this video game character. This 3D character model with some programming and voicing acting attached to it… it wasn’t just my best friend in the game. It had been my best friend. I re-analyzed every character I had really felt like I had grown close to in my time in the Mass Effect universe, and started connecting dots. Tali reminded me a ton of my little sister. Wrex reminded me of my roommate. The list goes on and on…

Why do I do this? Why did I choose the career path that has been proven to be one of the most stressful, and one of the hardest to break in to? Why did I choose to go the route of an indie/start-up, when I know that makes everything way down the road even harder and scarier? It’s because of those stories, those worlds, those characters, and those moments in my head. It’s because that blast of emotion I felt when a weird bird alien spoke to me.

I want to reach out and touch people. I want to pump them up. I want to be able to motivate them to pursue their dreams, I want them to get the tunes out of their head…whatever they are. Because stories can do that; they can make you keep going. They can make you ace your senior project. They can make you graduate with every top honor the university has to offer. They can make you force yourself to balance your social life, work life, and dreams all at once. I want to tell stories because I can’t think of a better to touch the lives of a million people, some without them even realizing it.

And perhaps simplest of all…because two people, whom I respect very much, told me I was born to. And that’s good enough for me.

-Jonathan Wine, Founder and Creative Director of Wyvern Interactive, LLC