A few thoughts on WarioWare Gold now that I've beaten its story mode

Those of you who've played this entry in Nintendo's long-running WarioWare series--or any of its installments, really--must be thinking something like, I hope you don't consider beating this game's story mode to be an accomplishment!

You're right, of course. After all, you can finish WarioWare Gold's story mode in just a couple of hours if you don't drag your feet.

I'm patting myself on the back anyway, though--mostly because I managed to do the above plus a bit more over the last couple of weeks despite the fact that Octopath Traveler has been monopolizing my free time since it came out in mid-July.

In fact, I've now put about four hours into WarioWare Gold. Even that's nothing to brag about, admittedly, but it's been more than enough to time to get a good feel for the game, and that's what matters here. Speaking of which, keep reading for my initial thoughts on this zany 3DS title.

The cutscenes are awesome--In fact, I'd go so far as to say they're the highlight of the entire package. The main reason for that is they're funny. Surprisingly funny, even. My favorite is the one starring 5-Volt (9-Volt's mom). In it, she becomes obsessed with a buff dude named Mr. Sparkles, who sells special frying pans--they're so heavy you basically have to become a bodybuilder to use them--via cheesy infomercials.

I actually love the voice acting--And that's not something you'll hear me say all that often. No joke, I usually either don't care about voice acting or actively dislike it (to the point that I turn it off, assuming that's an option). I adore the voice acting in WarioWare Gold, though--which is a good thing, as the game's crammed full of it. I'm especially smitten with Wario and the new addition to the franchise, the spunky and heavily browed Lulu.

I wish the game didn't force you to unlock so much of its content--I know this is typical of the series. Or at least that's what I've heard. (I've only played a handful of WarioWare titles to date: Smooth Moves and D.I.Y.) Whatever the case may be, I'd prefer it if this entry didn't make unlocking its "souvenir" mini-games, like Mewtroid 2 and Super Pyoro, such a chore. To do that, you have to rack up points playing the title's story and challenge modes--usually over and over again. Then you plop those points into a capsule machine and pray something interesting pops out. In other words, depending on your luck, you may get Micro Golf or Pro Bowl early on or you may have to wait quite some time to gain access to them.

I'm not sure how many more hours I'll put into it--Don't get me wrong, I've thoroughly enjoyed what I've experienced so far. That said, I'm not entirely convinced the rest of what's on offer here is going to be enough to keep me coming back for more than a few additional hours. If I could freely play all of its bonus mini-games, that'd probably extend things at least a little while longer. As things stand, though, I have a feeling my time with WarioWare Gold is about to come to a close.

Even if I quit right now, I won't regret my purchase--Probably. I think. Maybe? Why the hesitation? I don't often spend $30-plus on a game and then stop playing it after just a few days. Given that, I won't be surprised if I slightly regret buying WarioWare Gold down the road. Still, I had an absolute blast during the four or so hours I've spent with this game, so I'll do what I can to keep those feelings of remorse to an absolute minimum.

Have any of you played WarioWare Gold? If so, what did you think of it?

See also: 'five reasons I've fallen head over heels in love with Sushi Striker' and '10 things I adore about Octopath Traveler'

Ten things I'd change about Octopath Traveler if given the chance

My last two posts hopefully make it pretty clear I'm enjoying the hell out of Octopath Traveler at the moment.

As much as I love it, though, I don't think it's perfect. In fact, I'd make the following changes to the game if someone gave me the green light to do so.

1. I'd add a Bravely Default-like slider to the "settings" menu that lets you adjust the frequency of random battles. Being able to turn off random battles--or even increase how often they're triggered--was a real lifesaver, not to mention sanity-saver, while playing Bravely Default. Why Octopath Traveler's developers decided against including something similar here, I'll never understand.

2. I'd allow players to alter the game's difficulty on the fly, too. Again, like Bravely Default--or even the recently released Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey Redux. Both of those 3DS titles let you switch between easy, normal, and hard (or casual, standard, and expert, in the case of Strange Journey Redux) modes as you wish. Not only isn't that possible while playing Octopath Traveler, but it's not even possible to choose a difficulty level at the game's start. As such, if you run up against an area or boss that's too hard for you, you've got no choice but to grind your party into better shape or improve your battle strategy.

Illustration by carrotchipper

3. I'd make weapons visibly distinct during battle. I've loved being able to see my party member's weapons in battle since I first played through the original Final Fantasy shortly after it was released in my neck of the woods. In fact, I stuck with that game's "coral sword" long past its sell-by date because I thought it was cool to wield a pink blade. So imagine my disappointment when I realized I'd never get to see Octopath Traveler's "bear cleaver" or "war hammer."

4. I'd include a few more unique secondary jobs. In a way, I appreciate that the folks who called the shots during Octopath Traveler's development decided to cap the game's secondary jobs at 12. It's easy for RPGs to go overboard in this area and become bloated, confusing messes. Still, I wouldn't have minded even a couple of additional career options for my hard-working crew--especially since I consider a few of the included ones to be borderline pointless.

5. I'd shorten its battles. How much shorter would I make them? I'm not sure. Slightly shorter, at the very least. And I'd focus on Octopath Traveler's boss battles in particular. Yes, I feel accomplished and relieved and all sorts of other emotions after finally toppling one of this game's end-of-chapter baddies, but I'd sacrifice a bit of that elation for tussles that occasionally last less than 30 minutes.

6. I'd let people save anywhere. This is one of Octopath Traveler's more confounding omissions, if you ask me. I know the game's supposed to be a throwback, but this is going a bit too far considering nearly all modern RPGs allow players to save where they want and when they want. Plus, you encounter the little pedestals that serve as Octopath Traveler's "save spots" every few steps, so why not just remove that visual clutter from the landscape and replace it with something that's a lot more user-friendly?

7. I'd toss in a few vehicles. I know what some of you are thinking: vehicles aren't needed in this game because it lets you "fast travel." It only lets you do so between cities, though, which often means you still have to hoof it a bit if you want to explore a cave or hunt for a shrine. Even if Octopath Traveler allowed you to plop your party anywhere on the map with a nudge of the analog stick and the press of a button, I'd still want access to a handful of "vehicles"--like maybe a boat or carriage or horse--so I could buzz around the landscape when the mood strikes.

Illustration by punkratkid

8. I'd give players more money for winning battles. Or I'd make weapons and armor cheaper. As things stand, it's easy to feel "poor" while playing Octopath Traveler--especially as you toil through its first half or so. In fact, I mostly resorted to stealing armor and weapons and items from unsuspecting townsfolk during my first 30 or 40 hours with the game because of this. Maybe that's the point? Or maybe this is Octopath Traveler's way of telling me to spend more time grinding? Either way, I'd prefer it if the gear sold by this title's many shopkeepers were a little more "wallet friendly."

9. I'd make it so the lantern used in caves and grottoes is upgradable. Hell, I'd even force players to find or buy this accessory before they could comfortably probe Octopath Traveler's many dark and dank caverns. This starter lamp would be pretty dim, too, and the only way to make it brighter and more useful would be to replace it or upgrade it in some form or fashion.

10. I'd increase the game's wackiness quotient. Although Octopath Traveler occasionally shows it's got a nutty side (Olberic's ability to challenge nearly any NPC to a one-on-one duel is a prime example), it's usually a pretty staid experience. How would I make it a little zanier? By tossing in a couple of kooky, out-of-left-field bosses, for starters. I'd also add in some silly weapon classes--like the bells and harps that pop up in a number of Final Fantasy titles.

Would you alter Octopath Traveler in any particular ways if given the chance? If so, what changes would you make?

See also: 'ten things I adore about Octopath Traveler' and 'five more (kind of silly) things I adore about Octopath Traveler'

BONUS ROUND: five more (kind of silly) things I adore about Octopath Traveler

If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you should be well aware of the fact that the bulk of my gaming time over the last month or so has been spent working my way through Octopath Traveler.

In fact, I've now devoted 55 or so hours to this much-ballyhooed Switch RPG, and I have a feeling I'll need to put at least 25 more into it before I wrap up all of its storylines.

It probably could go without saying that I'm thoroughly enjoying the experience, but I'm going to say it anyway. Actually, I already suggested it in my last post--about the "10 things I adore about Octopath Traveler."

So why am I belaboring the point today? To be honest, I thought I was done extolling Octopath Traveler's virtues when I published the write-up linked to above. A few additional virtues popped into my head this past week, though, and although my initial plan was to just stick them at the end of my earlier post, I figured they'd be overlooked.

Plus, I like that the components highlighted below are sort of silly.

The lantern you carry while in caves and grottoes--No joke, this was one of the details that most stood out for me when I watched Octopath Traveler’s first trailer more than a year and a half ago. It's the type of thing that would've thrilled me as a youngster (yes, I've always been a little weird), and it still brings a smile to my face today--even if it doesn't impact the gameplay as much as I'd like.

The mansions that double as dungeons--Is Octopath Traveler the first turn-based RPG to stick dungeons within manors and other such dwellings? Even if it isn’t, I love how it’s handled here. I especially enjoy ducking into rooms to see what may be hiding inside. I wish they featured a few secret nooks and crannies here and there (like the caves and grottoes do), but maybe producers Masashi Takahashi and Tomoya Asano are saving such treasures for the inevitable sequel?

The return of the “Final Fantasy V laugh”--Something I've always loved about the fifth Final Fantasy game is how adorable its characters look when they laugh. Well, Octopath Traveler’s protagonists and NPCs use a shockingly similar animation while guffawing or chortling. I don't know if this is an intentional reference to one of my all-time favorite games or if it's just a coincidence, but I'm going to assume it's the former until proven otherwise.

The shimmer--No, I'm not talking about the "Shimmer" that serves as a major plot point in the Annihilation film. I'm talking about the way some of Octopath Traveler's elements shimmer and sparkle in the most captivating way as you walk on or by them. You'll mostly observe this while traipsing around the game's sandy and snowy environments, or while exploring some of the aforementioned caverns, but you'll also notice it (in and on homes and shops) while strolling through its villages and towns.

The sound of your party’s footsteps--They sound like horses clopping, especially when your crew's walking across dirt or stone, and for whatever reason I find it comforting.

Now that I've had my say (again), what are your favorite aspects of Octopath Traveler?

Ten things I adore about Octopath Traveler

I was pretty sure I'd like Octopath Traveler as soon as I finished watching the teaser footage of it that was featured in the "Nintendo Switch Presentation 2017."

That hunch persisted as I played its first demo, which hit the Switch eShop late last September.

How do I feel about Octopath Traveler now that I'm making my way through the full game? Well, I've put nearly 40 hours into it so far--what do you think?

If that's not enough detail for you, keep reading for a bit of commentary on the 10 things I most love about this throwback of an RPG.



The ability to steal--When I first added Therion ("the thief") to my party, I pretty much ignored his "steal" path action. I mostly used Tressa's similar ability, "purchase," instead. It quickly became clear to me, though, that buying armor, weapons, and items in this game is a fool's errand. Random battles just don't give you the kind of money you need to outfit your crew properly. So, I started stealing from non-player characters (NPCs)--and now I can't stop. Hopefully the game doesn't penalize me for it down the road.

The battle system--You know what excited me most during my four-hour playthrough of the first Octopath Traveler demo? The battles. They gave me powerful Bravely Default vibes--a very good thing as far as I'm concerned. Actually, I think the fights in Octopath Traveler are better than those in Bravely Default. They're certainly more visceral--especially when you "break" an enemy and your system's Joy-Cons offer up an impressive series of rumbles and jolts.



The effects and "filters"--I know a lot of people think the lovely spritework in this game is ruined by the effects its artists and developers applied to those assets, but I'm not one of them. Admittedly, there are times when the vignette and depth-of-field filters make it hard to see paths and easy to miss treasure chests, but I'd rather deal with that than have a game that's flatter and far less aesthetically pleasing.

The freedom--One of the most SaGa-esque aspects of Octopath Traveler is it allows you to go anywhere and at any time. Or, to put it another way, the game lets you do what you want, when you want to do it. This is far from the first RPG to offer such freedom, of course, but it still feels fresh here because of the eight characters--and on-going storylines--at your disposal. Get in over your head while trying to complete a particular chapter and you can simply switch to another. Or you can tackle an optional dungeon. Or you can search for one of the shrines mentioned below. Basically, what you do and when you do it is up to you.



The locales--If I had to hold up one visual element of Octopath Traveler as being more impressive than the rest, I'd go with its towns. Every one does its best to take your breath away the second you stroll past its entrance. This is mainly due to the unique and ornate architecture that fills each burg, but there are other reasons, too--such as the rivers that wind through a number of them and the bridges that cross those burbling waterways. When combined with the environmental details and backdrops, this game's hamlets basically beg you to explore them--and so far I've happily obliged.

The NPCs--In some ways, I like Octopath Traveler's NPCs more than I like its protagonists. There are so many of them, and almost every one has a story to tell. You're able to hear these tales not only by chatting up townsfolk as you would in any other RPG, by the way, but also by using Alfyn's "inquire" and Cyrus' "scrutinize" abilities. Accepting and completing side quests from and for some of these NPCs sheds even more light on their intriguing backgrounds.



The party members--I know Octopath Traveler's eight protagonists are kind of clichéd and trope-y, but I don't care. I like them anyway. I especially like the plucky merchant, Tressa, and the out-for-vengence dancer, Primrose. OK, so I have a soft spot for the cluelessly dreamy (not to mention Sherlock Holmes-y) scholar, Cyrus, and the wet-behind-the-ears apothecary, Alfyn, too. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm pretty fond of all the game's party members, though I'll admit the hermit warrior, Olberic, and the stoic hunter, H’aanit, are my least favorites.

The sense of mystery--Something I've often wished RPGs would feature more of are secret locations. Well, Octopath Traveler has loads of them. Hidden within the landscape that stretches between the game's towns and forests and caverns are caves and tombs that double as optional dungeons and shrines. (You learn secondary "jobs" in the latter.) Believe me when I say stumbling upon one of them is among the most thrilling and satisfying aspects of this globe-trotting adventure.



The soundtrack--It's been apparent since Octopath Traveler's initial tease that its soundtrack was going to be a stunner. Even so, I was unprepared for the brilliance that wafted into my ears the minute I hit "start." The tunes I've heard so far are elegant and emotional and wistful in ways that remind me of the ones I fell in love with while playing Final Fantasy V and VI for the first time back in the day. Need I say more?

The "travel banter"--As you may have heard, Octopath Traveler's eight protagonists never really acknowledge each other during the normal course of play. Those walls come crashing down after certain events, though, and when they do, pressing the plus button on your Switch lets you listen to the banter between two or more party members. These chats aren't exactly deep--they're usually just a few lines long--but they still provide a welcome look at the behind-the-scenes relationships of this tit;e's colorful cast of characters.

Are you playing Octopath Traveler, too? If so, what are your favorite aspects of it?

See also: 'five more (kind of silly) things I adore about Octopath Traveler'

Five things I don't love about Sushi Striker

If you read my last post, you know what I love about Sushi Striker.

As much as I adore this recently released 3DS and Switch game, though, it's not perfect.

In fact, a handful of its components could be called honest-to-goodness turn-offs. They're not so terrible you should pass on the game, of course--I still put more than 51 hours into it, after all--but they're definitely occasional sources of annoyance.

So, which components am I talking about here? Keep reading for all the not-so-gory details.

Sushi Striker does a horrible job of explaining how things work--I don't know if some of this information was "lost in localization" or if it wasn't included in the Japanese version either. Whatever the case may be, Sushi Striker drops the ball--or maybe I should say plate--when it comes to educating players about many of its rules and gameplay quirks. It's nothing a little trial and error, not to mention a few trips to an FAQ, can't fix, but it's a bit frustrating all the same--especially after you become aware of just how much text has been stuffed into this fast-paced puzzler.

It also doesn't make it clear which "Sushi Sprites" you can and can't recruit at any point in time--This is a big deal because not only are these adorable (at least at first) Pokémon-esque creatures one of the highlights of Sushi Striker, but they're also often the key to your success. The reason: they provide you with various abilities that can give you a leg up against your sushi-slinging opponents. To get these cuties to switch sides and join your campaign against the evil "Empire," though, you have to impress them in battle. I like that take on the "gotta catch 'em all" shtick a lot, actually, but I also find one aspect of it irksome. You see, it's not unusual to come across Sushi Sprites early on that you can't recruit until later in the story. Sushi Striker never tells you that, though, so unless you scan the web for this information, you may waste a lot of time trying to woo creatures that aren't, well, woo-able.

You have to put a good number of hours into the game before you unlock local or online battles--Get this: I had to play Sushi Striker for between five and 10 hours (sorry, I can't remember the exact amount of time) before I unlocked the ability to engage in local battles. Then I had to play another five to 10 hours to unlock the ability to engage in online battles. So, basically, it takes as many as 20 hours to open up a pair of modes that should be available right from the start--in my opinion, at least. On a related note: I have to imagine this is the main reason it's so difficult to find strangers to duel while playing the 3DS version of Sushi Striker.

It's nearly impossible to find a stranger to battle on line in the 3DS version--This may be the worst offender of them all. At least you can search the internet for help with the rest of the stumbling blocks mentioned here. There's nothing you can do about the lack of other players looking to take part in online battles. In the 50-plus hours I've spent with Sushi Striker so far, I've successfully completed exactly two such battles--and both were against the same person. Admittedly, they were laggy as hell and as such not a whole lot of fun, but I'd still pop into the "Arena" (where these matches take place) now and then if finding a competitor weren't such a pain.

Some of the star requirements are completely ridiculous--When you first start your way through Sushi Striker, it's easy to be fooled into thinking it's going to be a rather straightforward and superficial adventure. Match plates, stack them, and throw them at your opponent--bada-bing, bada-boom! In reality, there's a lot more to the game than that. For example, you're given stars if you meet certain conditions, like, "use five skills or more and win." Collect enough of them and you're granted access to secret areas that provide you with the best (or at least rarest) Sushi Sprites around. The thing is, some of these requirements are ridiculous. Oh, well, nothing worth having comes easy, as the saying goes.

Five reasons I've fallen head over heels in love with Nintendo's Sushi Striker

When Nintendo unveiled Sushi Striker this time last year, I was certain it would be my cup of tea.

I mean, it was a puzzler, it featured a selection of (cartoonishly) beefy dudes, and it was being made for the 3DS--if that's not the recipe for my kind of game, I don't know what is.

My interest in Sushi Striker plummeted, however, after I played through the demo that hit the Switch eShop a couple of months ago. Not because I thought it sucked, mind you; in fact, I loved many aspects of it, including its colorful art, spirited soundtrack, and wacky (if sometimes longwinded) cutscenes.

So what didn't I love about it? Its too-frantic gameplay.



Although I've been a fan of puzzle games since I broke in my GameBoy with the freebie classic-to-be Tetris, I've never really enjoyed ones that demand Shazam-esque reflexes. I usually prefer puzzlers that allow players to contemplate their next move at least a little bit.

As such, Sushi Striker and I got off on the wrong foot thanks to the at-first frenzied action at the heart of its demo.

I say "at first" here because while I found the demo's sushi-matching gameplay loop too hectic early on, I actually grew kind of comfortable with it after putting some time into the full game. (Yes, I bought the 3DS version even though the Switch demo disappointed me.)

In fact, I grew so comfortable with it that I played Sushi Striker almost nonstop after it arrived on my doorstep. And not only that, but I played it right through to the end--a journey that took me just over 50 hours.

What prompted this out-of-nowhere turnaround? Here are five reasons:



1. Sushi Striker's cutscenes are surprisingly enjoyable--And that's saying something, as a ton of them have been crammed into this game. In fact, you encounter one after nearly every round. Most are mercifully short, but a bunch of brief interludes could still prove annoying--or worse--if they were pointless or handled poorly, right? Thankfully, I doubt many would describe Sushi Striker's intermissions as anything even close to boring. They're so goofy that all but the most stone-hearted are sure to grin while watching them. (Don't worry, gloomy Gusses, they're skippable.)

2. It's got a wonderfully goofy cast of characters--This is another reason I had a hard time hating Sushi Striker's seemingly endless cutscenes. Every one features at least a single character who gives new meaning to the word colorful. There's the brawny, tan, and tattooed General Kodiak, his pinheaded (but still impressively buff) minions, your hapless rival Kojiro, the "soosh"-loving hipster Rio (he even has the black-framed glasses to prove it), and a slew of others. All of them have personality to spare, so even if they start to get on your nerves a bit, you'll probably do as I did and continue to guiltily enjoy them rather than race ahead to your next skirmish.



3. The sushi-flinging action at its core eventually becomes deliriously instinctual--There's no question this game's sushi battles are frantic at the start. Everything moves so fast that early on you're more likely to find them frustrating than fun. Thankfully, those negative vibes slowly fade into the background after you successfully finish a handful of stages--or at least that was the case for me. By the time you advance to Sushi Striker's second or third area, you'll be wondering how you ever found it so overwhelming. At a certain point, you move your stylus (if you're playing the 3DS version) to match, stack, and toss sushi plates almost on instinct. That's when the game hits its stride and shows just how exhilarating it can be once you get the hang of it.

4. It's pretty deep, too--Not only is Sushi Striker's gameplay delightfully frenetic, it's also surprisingly deep. At first, it's difficult to think beyond matching like-colored plates from the four conveyor-belt lanes in front of you. If you want to beat the best opponents in the game, though, or if you want to access its many hidden areas (most of which reward you with special "Sushi Sprite" companions when conquered), you have to bone up on things like the jubilee meter, the helpful skills provided by the aforementioned Sushi Sprites, the lane-drive gears that let you alter the speed of your conveyor belts, and more. It's a lot to take in, admittedly, and the game doesn't do a great job of explaining most of it to you, but you've got to wrap your head around it if you're to have any hope of reaching Sushi Striker's credit roll.



5. The soundtrack complements all of the sushi-matching perfectly--That's not to say it sounds like something you'd hear in a sushi restaurant. It sure puts you in the mood to sling some plates of Japan's national dish (or maybe not) at the evildoers who get in your way, though. As you might expect, the tunes here are the definition of upbeat. However, they're not as syrupy sweet as most of the songs that support puzzlers these days. This is due, in large part, to the crunchy electric guitar riffs woven into nearly every track. Combined with the plucky piano runs and techno-y blips and blops (technical terms, for the unaware) that pop up nearly as often, they make every Sushi Striker encounter a breathtaking blast.

Have any of you played Sushi Striker? If so, what do you think of it? Share your thoughts in the comments section of this post.

Five things that made it really easy for me to put more than 60 hours into The Alliance Alive

If you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr, you may have seen me trumpet the fact that I finished The Alliance Alive a short time ago--after putting more than 60 hours into it.

Actually, you may have seen me celebrate the same accomplishment in one of my most recent posts here, too.

Regardless, you know now. And, really, as thrilled as I am that I reached The Alliance Alive's credit roll and devoted so many hours to it along the way, I'm even more thrilled that I enjoyed pretty much every one of the nearly 4,000 minutes I spent with this portable RPG.

Why? Here are the first five reasons that came to mind:

Awakening "battle arts" is completely addictive--If you're not quite up to speed on The Alliance Alive's inner workings, "battle arts" are special attacks or moves that are tied to specific classes of weapons. If you give one of your characters a spear, for example, one of her battle arts may be "Charge," which causes her to race toward and through an enemy. While using that art, you might "awaken" another one, like "Spear Fishing" or "Triple Strike." The key word here is might. There's seemingly no rhyme or reason for when a character will learn a new battle art. You may go a number of encounters without awakening even one, or you may awaken three or four in a single tussle. I know some players find the randomness annoying, but I love it. You never know when a new--and likely more fabulous--move is going to fall into your lap.

The soundtrack is sublime--And not only that, but it's surprisingly varied. Some tracks, like "Rainy World" and "Sealed Museum," are fairly ambient in nature, while others, like "Clockwork City Gearlock" and "Fiery World," pulsate and soar thanks to plucky piano bits and pleasantly synth-y strings. (My favorite of them all is "Flight," which pops up later in the game but is well worth the wait.) The brilliance of The Alliance Alive soundtrack came as no surprise to me, by the way, as I knew going in that Masashi Hamauzu had composed the bulk of it. Some of his previous credits: Chocobo no Fushigi na Dungeon for the original PlayStation, Final Fantasy X for the PS2, and this title's precursor, The Legend of Legacy. (Psst! You can listen to The Alliance Alive's entire soundtrack here.)

The "water devil dens" provide the game with just the right amount of toughness and creepiness--Truth be told, a lot of The Alliance Alive's content could be called "standard fare." That's not a complaint or a critique; it's a simple statement of fact. What am I talking about here? The locations you explore while wandering the game's expansive map are a good example, as are the beasts you battle along the way. I wouldn't make the same claim about its "water devil dens," though. These optional dungeons dot the landscape and can be accessed via malevolent-looking whirlpools. As you might expect based on their name, they're teeming with some of the nastiest baddies in the whole game. The best thing about these "dens," in my opinion: they give The Alliance Alive a sense of otherworldly tension that helps it break free from the "typical JRPG" mold the game's developers seemingly used to create a good chunk of the rest of this sprawling adventure. (The next best thing about them: the creepy lines enemies spout before battles begin.)

Once it finally clicked, The Alliance Alive's guild system proved to be surprisingly cool (not to mention helpful)--Another aspect of The Alliance Alive that helps it steer clear of "cookie cutter" territory are the guild towers that stick out from the surrounding environment like giant, Victorian weather vanes. Early on, it's hard to make heads or tails of these structures and their inhabitants. The game attempts to explain things, but none of it clicked with me until I was a good 20 or so hours into my playthrough. Which is a shame, because once you "get" The Alliance Alive's guild system, you realize what a cool game changer it is. The gist: if you're within a certain range of a guild tower, it may support you in battle. One type stuns all enemies for a turn. Another wallops them with a massive attack. Yet another weakens their defenses. That's awesome in and of itself, of course, but it becomes even more so after you build a network of towers and you come within range of a number of them at the same time. And that's just scratching the surface of the benefits these spires offer players who devote time and energy to them. (To learn more, check out this siliconera.com article.)

It's got a character who fights enemies while sitting inside a duck-shaped "power suit"--And not only that, but she eventually fits it with a floaty so it can cross pools of lava. This character, named Tiggy, isn't the only appealing one in The Alliance Alive, by the way. A few others include a "daemon" lady with fox-like ears and tail, a "beastfolk" that looks to be a cross between a lizard and an antelope, a loud-mouthed penguin, and a youthful, hard-nosed businessman (businessboy?) who uses a wheelchair and wears a pot with a teddy bear strapped to it on his head. That's a long way of saying this game has a colorful cast of characters. Sadly, you can't add that last one--the one with the bear stuck to his noggin--to your party, but believe me when I say you're sure to like a lot of the beings that populate The Alliance Alive despite that unfortunate oversight.

That's not the extent of what I found appealing about The Alliance Alive during the 60-plus hours I devoted to it, mind you. I also loved how its non-player characters change what they say to you based on who's currently serving as your main party member, for example. And I similarly enjoyed being allowed to speed up battles with the press of a button.

Is there any room for improvement after all of the above has been taken into consideration? Definitely. As colorful as its cast of characters is, there's no question it could be even more diverse. (Every human in The Alliance Alive seems to be white, straight, and cisgender.) And I would've killed to be able to add some of its more interesting NPCs, like the aforementioned boy with the stuffed animal attached to his skull, the Guild Girls (see above), and Princess Yukiha to my party, even if only after the end credits rolled.

Don't let those few shortcomings keep you from starting through The Alliance Alive yourself. I found it to be an almost shockingly special title, all things considered, and as such I can't recommend it strongly enough to anyone who still has a 3DS and who typically enjoys role-playing games.

A few thoughts on Witch & Hero III now that I've put about four hours into it

The Witch & Hero series and I go way back (see this old post and this one, too, for proof), so of course I bought Witch & Hero III as soon as it hit the Japanese 3DS eShop late last month.

Since then, I've devoted just under four hours to the game's globe-trotting, witch-protecting adventure. For the curious, that's taken me through around 32 of its single-screen stages. Sadly, I have no idea how many the game contains. If I had to guess, I'd go with 50 or so. Even if it ends up being just 40, though, I'll walk away feeling like Witch & Hero III was worth the 400 Yen (about $4) I spent on it.

That doesn't mean I've found Witch & Hero III to be a perfect game thus far. As is the case with its predecessors, it has its flaws. Overall, though, I'm having a lot of fun with it--to the point I'd say it's my second-favorite of the series' three releases.

What do I like about Witch & Hero III and what do I dislike about it? Here are a few examples of both:

Finally, the action takes place on the 3DS' top screen--I've always found it strange that developer Flyhigh Works put the action of the first two Witch & Hero games on the 3DS' bottom screen. Someone there must've agreed with me, as the action in Witch & Hero III takes place on the 3DS' top screen where it belongs. To be honest, I can't say the game feels all that different as a result, but I'm glad its devs made the switch all the same.



The new enemies and environments are a welcome change of pace--If you thought the enemies and environments in the first two Witch & Hero games seemed a bit samey, you'll love all the new ones that pop up in part three. I especially get a kick out of the humongous boss creatures that appear at the end of certain stages. The series' previous entries occasionally tossed larger-than-usual baddies at you, but they were just blown-up versions of regular enemy sprites. Here, they're completely unique--and beautiful--creations that command your attention by taking up a surprisingly large portion of the screen.

That said, the handful of ice stages can die in a fire--I usually enjoy ice stages in games. Not here. That's mainly because Witch & Hero III's ice stages often feel like you're on a pinball table and stuck between 20 or more bumpers. It's funny the first few times you tackle a stage, but after that it's just annoying. The good news is Witch & Hero III features only a handful of ice stages, so my advice is to grit your teeth and get through them as quickly as you can.



I don't enjoy Witch & Hero III's soundtrack as much as I enjoyed the ones featured in earlier entries--This isn't to suggest the backing tunes that play throughout each Witch & Hero III stage suck. Some of them are pretty darn good, but many others are forgettable at best. I don't consider that to be a huge deal, and I don't think you should either, but I thought it was worth mentioning here anyway.

Thank goodness you don't have to control your partner this time around--At first, being able to move both the hero and the witch at the same time while playing Witch & Hero II was a thrilling change of pace from the series' first release. After a while, though, it seemed more cumbersome than anything else. My biggest fear going into Witch & Hero III was that it would double down on this back-of-the-box bullet point. (All of the game's promotional materials show two heroes, as well as the eponymous witch, on each screen.) Thankfully, it doesn't. Although you're fully able to control both heroes (one using the 3DS' circle pad, the other using its face buttons), you also can hand over control of the second hero to the computer. For me, the latter has been far preferable to the former so far.



These games are more strategic than they initially seem, I swear--If you only play the first 10 or so stages of Witch & Hero III, or the first 10 or so stages of the other two Witch & Hero titles, you'll likely wonder why I like them so much. To understand my fascination with them, you really have to go further than that. Eventually, it becomes pretty clear that to master these games, you have to balance a number of components: the witch's health meter, the health meters of the two heroes, the magic (or "blood") meters of all three characters, the "Holy Power" meter, and more. It all sounds a lot easier in theory than it is in practice, and it's one of the main reasons every new Witch & Hero release excites me a bit more than the last.

Get ready to deal with a lot of slowdown--On the one hand, it's cool that many of Witch & Hero III's stages feature more enemy sprites than ever. On the other hand, all of those slowly creeping sprites cause a lot of slowdown. Bizarrely, it hasn't bothered me much to date, but I have a feeling it will bother many who play the game. So, if slowdown is a deal-breaker for you, think long and hard before you plop down $4 on Witch & Hero III when it makes its way onto your region's 3DS eShop in the coming months.

See also: my Witch & Hero review and my Witch & Hero II review

And the winners of the 2064: Read Only Memories Vita codes are...

I promised I'd be giving away four digital codes for the Vita version of 2064: Read Only Memories today, and that's what I'm going to do.

Rather than prolong the suspense, let's just get right to it. Here are the winners:

• Felipe Martins
• Sera R
• Shiftyweb
• ZACH

If you're one of the readers named above, leave a comment here by, say, the end of the day on Wednesday, and then we'll figure out the best way for me to send you the code.

Sorry to those of you who didn't win. I'd give you all codes for this intriguing game, if I could.

A few thoughts on VA-11 HALL-A (Vita) now that I've put nearly five hours into it

Besides Super Mario Odyssey and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, most of the games I've played in recent weeks and months try their best to sound, look, and even feel like ones that were released in the 1980s and 1990s.

Golf Story and even the Project Octopath Traveler demo for the Switch are two examples. The Vita port of Undertale, which I finally started a couple of weekends ago, is another. And then, of course, there are the just-hit-the-PlayStation-Store pair of 2064: Read Only Memories and Papers, Please. (OK, so I've yet to start those last two titles, but I'm planning to do so in short order.)

As successful as those games are at replicating their "retro" forebearers, VA-11 HALL-A outdoes all of them. How so? Find out by reading my impressions of this saucy, cyberpunk-y visual novel.



I adore the game's PC-98-esque graphics--I've loved the PC-98 "look" ever since I first traipsed across it many moons ago. (If you've never heard of the PC-98 before now, it's a lineup of Japanese 16-bit and 32-bit personal computers that dominated the domestic market in the 1980s and 1990s.) To see what I mean, check out this old NeoGAF thread, which is crammed full of luscious PC-98 game screenshots. Anyway, VA-11 HALL-A does magnificent job of looking like it was made during that era, and I couldn't be happier about it.



It has a glorious soundtrack--If I had to single out one aspect of VA-11 HALL-A as being head and shoulders above the rest, its soundtrack would be it. It's filled with the kind of music you want to listen to even when you're not playing the game. I don't know if it should be described as synthwave, synth-pop, ambient, or something else entirely, but it doesn't really matter. Calling it "blissful" is as spot-on as any other label you could slap on it. (The complete VA-11 HALL-A soundtrack is available on line, if you're curious.)

The story is surprisingly captivating--I honestly didn't expect to enjoy VA-11 HALL-A's story as much as I'm currently enjoying it. I expected it to be weird, and kind of wacky, too, but I didn't think it would be as interesting and even poignant as it is. As things stand, I never seem to tire of this game's nearly endless stream of text. I've rarely, if ever, said that about a visual novel before I tackled this one, which to me suggests VA-11 HALL-A is a pretty special example of the genre.



It seems I may be playing it incorrectly--Or at least too rigidly. Sadly, I didn't realize that until just the other day--which means I've been playing the game this way for more than four hours. Oh, well, I may as well continue along this current path until I reach VA-11 HALL-A's end credits. I'll do my best to approach my digital bartending duties as designer Christopher Ortiz seemingly intended during any subsequent playthroughs. Which means I won't be so robotic about always serving patrons what they say they want. (I thought that was the point, but it sounds like you're supposed to be creative in how you respond to customers' drink requests.)

Have you played some version of VA-11 HALL-A since it first released (for PC) back in 2016? If so, what are your impressions of it?

See also: a few thoughts on Golf Story, Super Mario Odyssey, and Yomawari: Night Alone

To buy the Romancing SaGa 2 remake for Switch or Vita, that is the question

I've been awaiting an English release of Square Enix's Romancing SaGa 2 remake--or remaster, if you prefer--for a surprisingly long time.

Hell, I've been waiting for the game to be made playable in English, period, since it first hit the Super Famicom back in late 1993.

After all, the Romancing SaGa titles are about the worst games you could attempt to play through if you don't have a mighty firm grasp of the Japanese language thanks to their open-ended nature and ridiculous amount of (kanji-heavy) text.



Sadly, none of the fan translations of these games have ever progressed to a point where they could be said to be playable. As such, I bought the iOS version of the above-mentioned Romancing SaGa 2 remake the day it made its way on to the North American App Store early last year--despite its rather hefty price tag of $17.99.

Unsurprisingly, I've barely touched it in the year-plus since. Oh, I started it, and I didn't find its touchscreen controls to be anywhere near as off-putting as I assumed they'd be, but, as is the case with pretty much every mobile game I've bought to date, I just couldn't stick with it.

So, I've not-so-secretly held out hope that Square Enix would eventually bring the Vita version of the Romancing SaGa 2 remake--released in Japan alongside the mobile iteration in March 2016--to our shores.

Just when I'd about given up on that ever happening, series creator Akitoshi Kawazu took to Twitter to mention he and his team were still working toward that goal (while also prepping a similarly updated version of Romancing SaGa 3).



That was all the way back in April, though, and Kawazu's barely made a peep about the fate of the English release of Romancing SaGa 2's Vita port since, so let's just say yesterday's announcement that it'll be available for purchase on the North American PlayStation Store on Dec. 15 proved to be a bit of a curveball.

Even more of a curveball was the news that PC, PS4, Switch, and Xbox One owners also will be able to buy and play the Romancing SaGa 2 remaster on that same date. (Visit japanesenintendo.com to see the game's latest trailer.)

Which of course begs the question: which version should I pick up?

My initial response was to go with the Vita iteration, as that's the one I've always wanted. It wasn't long before I changed my mind and decided I'd rather experience the game on my new go-to system, the Switch.



As of this morning, though, I'm no longer so sure. Yes, the Switch has a bigger screen and I use it far more than I use my Vita at the moment, but the Vita has a better, longer-lasting battery and it also simply seems like the right "home" for such a game.

What do all of you think I should do here?

Also, are any of you planning to purchase some version of the Romancing SaGa 2 remake when it drops in a few days? If so, which one?

Manual Stimulation: Peetan (GameBoy)

You may remember how, in my last GameBoy-centric "Manual Stimulation" post, I mentioned that belatedly discovering Irem's Noobow back in 2013 almost singlehandedly reignited my interest in Nintendo's first portable game system.

The key words there are "almost singlehandedly," as although that side-scrolling puzzler was the game that got me thinking about the GameBoy again (after more than a decade of completely ignoring it), a number of other titles kept the proverbial ball rolling and even helped it pick up speed.



Kaneko's Peetan, highlighted here, is one of those titles.

Of course, only a person with a heart of stone could fail to fall in love with a game that comes in such a wonderfully colorful and charming package, don't you think?



Add in the fact that Peetan's protagonist is a protective mother hen and that its gameplay revolves around launching her endangered chicks to the upper-reaches of a tree, and it should be easy to see how I quickly became smitten with this Japan-only release from 1991.

Am I as smitten with Peetan's instruction manual as I am with its gameplay, premise, and packaging? Not really, but don't take that to mean I think it's a dog.



After all, it offers up a number of nice touches. The line of illustrated chicks that runs along the bottom of every page is a good example. The larger drawings that pop up here and there are another.



I'm also pretty fond of the Peetan manual's overall color scheme, although it can make scans such as the ones showcased in this post somewhat hard to see.

My advice: click on them to blow them up a bit--or a lot. That'll make them far easier to enjoy.



Something else I love about the Peetan manual: the wonky screenshots that are scattered throughout its 15 pages.



That's nothing new to the world of GameBoy instruction booklets, of course. Most of them feature at least a few screenshots that could, at best, be described as fuzzy or hazy.



Oh, well. Not every Japanese GameBoy manual can be as eye-popping as the ones made for Bubble Bobble Junior, Pitman, Snow Bros. Jr., or Totsugeki! Ponkotsu Tank, right?



Plus, Peetan's booklet includes something not found in any of the just-mentioned ones: an entire page about something called an "EGG BONUS."

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts devoted to Astro Rabby, Kaeru no Tame ni Kane wa Naru, Penguin-kun Wars Vs., and Tumblepop

Manual Stimulation: Noobow (GameBoy)

Up until the early part of 2013, I had only a passing interest in Nintendo's GameBoy.

Oh, I owned one as a kid--got one as soon as I possibly could after it hit store shelves in the summer of 1989, in fact--and I loved it as much as anyone can love a bulky electronic gadget with a green-and-black screen.



After I sold my GameBoy system and catalog of carts a few years later, though, I rarely looked back. It just wasn't an experience I felt like revisiting, you know?

So, what happened in 2013? I came across a small blog post about the game highlighted here: Irem's Noobow.



That post included a short video of Noobow in action. I was hooked a second after I hit "start."

Over the next few months, I searched the Internet high and low for other Japan-only GameBoy games that had escaped my attention and that might appeal to me as much as Noobow.

All of that digital sleuthing resulted in me discovering import gems like Peetan, Painter Momopie and Osawagase! Penguin Boy. (OK, so that last one actually earned a Western release--as Amazing Penguin.)



Once I became aware of those titles, too, there was no going back. In the years since, I basically made it a goal to obtain complete-in-box copies of those Japanese GameBoy games and a slew of others (like Astro Rabby, Burning Paper and Cave Noire).

Curiously, each of the games I've mentioned so far were sold with stellar instruction manuals packed inside their colorful cardboard boxes.



Noobow's manual isn't as stellar as some of the others linked to at the bottom of this post, but I think it's still pretty nice.

Chiefly responsible for me calling it "nice" is that it sports a number of adorable illustrations of the eponymous Noobow, who apparently began life (and I believe continues to serve) as a mascot for a line of merchandise.



Strangely, this booklet doesn't contain even half as many illustrations as Noobow's outer box does, but at least almost all of the ones stuffed inside the manual are unique.

Also worth celebrating: the Noobow manual features three full pages of item drawings and descriptions.



If this is your first visit to this site, or if you haven't been visiting it for long, you need to know I love old game manuals that feature item drawings and descriptions.

Admittedly, the item drawings showcased here are on the rough side, but that just adds to their charm, if you ask me. (For another Japanese GameBoy manual that features rough item drawings, check out my post about the booklet made for the system's Bubble Bobble port.)



The second-to-last page of the Noobow instruction manual (see below) is supposed to be reserved for jotting down passwords, by the way. Whether or not the text a previous owner scribbled onto mine actually is a password, though, is up for debate.



Now that you've taken it all in, what do you think of the Noobow GameBoy instruction manual?

Also, if any of you have played this 1992 release, what do you think of it?

See also: previous 'Manual Stimulation' posts about Astro Rabby, Bubble Bobble Junior, Kaeru no Tame ni Kane wa Naru, Snow Bros. Jr. and Tumblepop