Nightwing
By Clive Wilson
Published by Zenobi Software
Release Year: 1989
Version Played: ZX Spectrum
The story of Nightwing begins on the single sheet of instructions that probably came wrapped around the cassette tape and held on by a thin rubber band. I'm not sure if the story would make less sense if you didn't have the instruction sheet since the story told in the instructions makes zero sense.
By Clive Wilson
Published by Zenobi Software
Release Year: 1989
Version Played: ZX Spectrum
The story of Nightwing begins on the single sheet of instructions that probably came wrapped around the cassette tape and held on by a thin rubber band. I'm not sure if the story would make less sense if you didn't have the instruction sheet since the story told in the instructions makes zero sense.
Who is the protagonist? I guess it's just you being interrupted in your daily routine of gobbling Pop Tarts and furtively masturbating every chance you get.
So instead of beginning the game saying, "You awaken in the far distant future confused and covered in Pop Tart crumbs and love juice," Clive Wilson thought it would be more exciting to have a giant time traveling bird transport you to the end of time? Okay, no, I see that. It is more exciting. But that gigantic bird had better be a significant part of the story since it's probably the Nightwing.
At least being transported to the future provides the suspension of disbelief needed to keep me from complaining about how my character doesn't know what a distorter is or how to properly wield a Phasex. My first thought was that it went up my butt except that merely proved to be a minor distraction.
At least being transported to the future provides the suspension of disbelief needed to keep me from complaining about how my character doesn't know what a distorter is or how to properly wield a Phasex. My first thought was that it went up my butt except that merely proved to be a minor distraction.
I guess my character isn't really into it.
Amnesia is the most common text adventure method of providing suspension of disbelief to understand why the protagonist is such a complete idiot. I suppose the protagonist can have amnesia in this game as well. They almost certainly have schizophrenia. I mean, transported to the future by a gigantic bird? Am I supposed to believe the giant bird represents aliens and the unknown? What is this, Twin Peaks?
Oh man. I wonder how many amateur text adventure games have been created based on Twin Peaks?! I need to dig up those lost gems!
Early on, I see Clive's big trick to make the game more difficult. He sections off areas so that once you move on, you can't return. So if you didn't happen to search the tableau in the first room before heading down the elevator, you're fucked because how are you going to distort stuff later without the distorter?! Not that any seasoned text adventure player would see a tableau and not think, "Fuck. I have to not misspell that when I try to examine it?!" On the second level, you have to make sure to find the power pack up the droidkin's stovepipe before you read the secret scroll that somehow calls the elevator back to the floor you're on.
Oh man. I wonder how many amateur text adventure games have been created based on Twin Peaks?! I need to dig up those lost gems!
Early on, I see Clive's big trick to make the game more difficult. He sections off areas so that once you move on, you can't return. So if you didn't happen to search the tableau in the first room before heading down the elevator, you're fucked because how are you going to distort stuff later without the distorter?! Not that any seasoned text adventure player would see a tableau and not think, "Fuck. I have to not misspell that when I try to examine it?!" On the second level, you have to make sure to find the power pack up the droidkin's stovepipe before you read the secret scroll that somehow calls the elevator back to the floor you're on.
Hmm. Maybe this is Twin Peaks.
The most difficult part of games like these other than trying to remember to "search," "examine," "move," and "search" again because did I try that yet? is trying to picture the objects you find lying around the environment. I mean, what am I supposed to assume a "distorter" does when all I'm told is "this is a lever shaped unit. One end seems to contain electronic contacts." Okay, so I should probably plug it into something? But what? A toaster? A toilet? Something more ridiculous than a toaster or a toilet but really vulgar? Oh! Like a fuck machine! I know I'm just a traveler from the past with no sense of memory and a condition that makes me think giant birds can deliver me to the future but I could use a little help here with the descriptions. If the character knows the object is called a "distorter," shouldn't the character also know what a fucking distorter does?!
Through way too much trial and error, I eventually discover the distorter attaches to the teleporter. And not only does the teleporter need to be turned on (which is obvious because it has a switch), the distorter must also be turned on (which isn't obvious because it doesn't have a switch or a button or any indication that it should be turned on). Once the teleporter is activated, you can "enter the teleporter" to discover the next clue.
Through way too much trial and error, I eventually discover the distorter attaches to the teleporter. And not only does the teleporter need to be turned on (which is obvious because it has a switch), the distorter must also be turned on (which isn't obvious because it doesn't have a switch or a button or any indication that it should be turned on). Once the teleporter is activated, you can "enter the teleporter" to discover the next clue.
It's becoming less Twin Peaks and more Schoolhouse Rock.
And then I got stuck. Back in the pre-Internet days, if you got stuck on a text adventure, you had no quick recourse to figuring out what to do next. You could either let your subconscious percolate on the problem or, if you were a huge nerd with no friends, you'd probably write a letter to Crash or Questbusters to get a clue on how to proceed. I once called the Sir-Tech tipline for the only clue I needed to beat Wizardry IV and I still hate myself for giving in to the compulsion. Especially since it was the part where you needed Werdna's ancient battle cry (or something) and I tried "Trebor Sucks" because that's what I remember it being. I'd forgotten it was "Trebor Sux." So because I knew how to spell, I now live with the shame of an asterisked "Beat Wizardry IV" as my life's biggest accomplishment. I hate myself for just telling this story! Fucking failure. No wonder I brought shame to my family.
That aside made me think about this aside: the CRPG Addict wrote this in his recent summary of Wizardry VII (which I fucking beat without clues! Fuck you, Sir-Tech tipline!): "Too much authorial presence breaks the fundamental illusion of a game, book, or even a blog. I've run afoul of this myself. Audiences want to be able to take what they read seriously, authoritatively, and they can't if they feel that someone ridiculous is feeding them the story." I read that and I've never felt more seen! He was definitely referencing me, right?!
The point I was beginning to make before my authorial presence whipped its dick into your face was this: how should I treat being stuck on a game on this blog? Do I immediately get hints so I can simply close out the review? Most of these old games don't have what Infocom (or most semi-intelligent people) would call "puzzles," so it's not like I can sit on the game while my mind thinks about what to do next. I almost certainly have simply missed "searching" or "examining" or "moving" the right thing. In this case, I'm fairly certain I know what I should be doing next but it's become a guess the verb situation where I just can't figure out exactly what Clive Wilson wants me to type.
My main concern is that if I set the precedent to dive right into the clues, I'll never truly beat any of these old games. But on the other and more rational hand, what the fuck makes me think it's possible to beat any of these old games without at least one hint?! Back in the frontier days of text adventure games, they were designed to pad play time so the purchaser felt like they were getting their money's worth. But is any game really worth even a few pounds if it mostly just took ten minutes to beat if you ignore the two weeks you spent not realizing that you could "frisk broom" to discover the key you needed?! Fuck you, Scott Adams' Mission Impossible!
Yes, I have grudges. So many grudges.
Fine. I won't look up a clue just yet. First, I'll systematically go back through every location to search, examine, move, frisk, poke, and molest every single thing. I feel like I've already done this multiple times so I guess I'm insane, or at least I hate myself enough to ignore the constantly dwindling good years I have left in my life. Somehow, I'll get to the point where I stop that mad droidkin from locking me in the lounge, probably by using the scrambler I can't figure out how to fucking use! Or else I'll find the key to the door it locks in some obscure place that makes no sense and wasn't even identified in the room description!
You know what? Not fine! I don't have any daddy issues driving me to succeed at everything I do! Besides, what daddy would be proud of his middle aged son successfully completing an unfair 80s text adventure game without using any hints?! Maybe a super drunk daddy which means I'm thirty years too late to make mine proud by accomplishing this feat! I'm doing it. I'm going to look at the hints! I don't care that I'll be kicking myself for weeks when I discover how easy the solution was! That just means I'll get to sublimate my feelings by eating loads and loads of Christmas cookies!
Okay, I've read the solution for the garden level and discovered I haven't missed anything there! That's a good thing! That means I have the means to solve the problem on the next level where I'm stuck! And now I've read the solution to why I was stuck and I want to kill myself because it was basically the exact same solution to not dying in the elevator when travelling from the first level to this level. Always remember to shut down extraneous operations you've initiated on every level, you stupid fucking idiot! Gah! It was so simple!
And yet nothing is as simple as it would seem in this fucking rigged piece of shit blasphemy masquerading as a computer game. Because I'll tell you a little something Clive Wilson just taught me from playing his computer game for a fair number of hours: Clive Wilson is a reprehensible cunt who can't fucking program a computer game correctly. Fuck you, Clive Wilson! I couldn't even beat your game following Dorothy Millard's walkthrough exactly! No matter what I did, I couldn't get to the final puzzle with enough wisdom to be allowed to take the final test! How the fuck does that happen?! I have a feeling Dorothy Millard never even beat this game which, honestly, makes me think less of Dorothy Millard, may she rest in peace! I didn't want to think less of Dorothy, Clive! See what you made me do?! She was an interactive fiction bastion of purity and now I'm doubting her text adventure sainthood because your game is unbeatable using her walkthrough! And her walkthrough is just a plagiarized version of the walkthrough that came with the game! How could you, Dorothy?! You were the one pure bright spot in Interactive Fiction (aside from Emily Short) and your reputation has been sullied by this demon from the Stygian depths! Fucking Clive Wilson. If you were on The Great British Bake-off, I would root for you to have a soggy bottom every fucking time!
Go to hell, you prick!
SCORES
Game Title: Makes no fucking sense. Stupid motherfucking title by a stupid motherfucker.
Puzzles: Mostly all search until you have the right items type or turn off that thing you needed on before you die from turning the thing on. Also a Wisdom Limit that breaks the game. Idiot.
Gameplay: Just like every other early text adventure. So redundant, rote, and boring that it increases my existential anxiety even though I began playing the game to ignore that.
Graphics: Average. Although when a room doesn't have a graphic, it shows that fucking cursed Wisdom Bar that haunts you until you wouldn't mind seeing the end of the world, just to know Clive got his.
Concept: Acceptable. Except for the bird. What the fuck, dude?
Fun Time: If you include the anticipation I always feel before embarking on another mysterious text adventure, I'd say forty seconds.
That aside made me think about this aside: the CRPG Addict wrote this in his recent summary of Wizardry VII (which I fucking beat without clues! Fuck you, Sir-Tech tipline!): "Too much authorial presence breaks the fundamental illusion of a game, book, or even a blog. I've run afoul of this myself. Audiences want to be able to take what they read seriously, authoritatively, and they can't if they feel that someone ridiculous is feeding them the story." I read that and I've never felt more seen! He was definitely referencing me, right?!
The point I was beginning to make before my authorial presence whipped its dick into your face was this: how should I treat being stuck on a game on this blog? Do I immediately get hints so I can simply close out the review? Most of these old games don't have what Infocom (or most semi-intelligent people) would call "puzzles," so it's not like I can sit on the game while my mind thinks about what to do next. I almost certainly have simply missed "searching" or "examining" or "moving" the right thing. In this case, I'm fairly certain I know what I should be doing next but it's become a guess the verb situation where I just can't figure out exactly what Clive Wilson wants me to type.
My main concern is that if I set the precedent to dive right into the clues, I'll never truly beat any of these old games. But on the other and more rational hand, what the fuck makes me think it's possible to beat any of these old games without at least one hint?! Back in the frontier days of text adventure games, they were designed to pad play time so the purchaser felt like they were getting their money's worth. But is any game really worth even a few pounds if it mostly just took ten minutes to beat if you ignore the two weeks you spent not realizing that you could "frisk broom" to discover the key you needed?! Fuck you, Scott Adams' Mission Impossible!
Yes, I have grudges. So many grudges.
Fine. I won't look up a clue just yet. First, I'll systematically go back through every location to search, examine, move, frisk, poke, and molest every single thing. I feel like I've already done this multiple times so I guess I'm insane, or at least I hate myself enough to ignore the constantly dwindling good years I have left in my life. Somehow, I'll get to the point where I stop that mad droidkin from locking me in the lounge, probably by using the scrambler I can't figure out how to fucking use! Or else I'll find the key to the door it locks in some obscure place that makes no sense and wasn't even identified in the room description!
You know what? Not fine! I don't have any daddy issues driving me to succeed at everything I do! Besides, what daddy would be proud of his middle aged son successfully completing an unfair 80s text adventure game without using any hints?! Maybe a super drunk daddy which means I'm thirty years too late to make mine proud by accomplishing this feat! I'm doing it. I'm going to look at the hints! I don't care that I'll be kicking myself for weeks when I discover how easy the solution was! That just means I'll get to sublimate my feelings by eating loads and loads of Christmas cookies!
Okay, I've read the solution for the garden level and discovered I haven't missed anything there! That's a good thing! That means I have the means to solve the problem on the next level where I'm stuck! And now I've read the solution to why I was stuck and I want to kill myself because it was basically the exact same solution to not dying in the elevator when travelling from the first level to this level. Always remember to shut down extraneous operations you've initiated on every level, you stupid fucking idiot! Gah! It was so simple!
And yet nothing is as simple as it would seem in this fucking rigged piece of shit blasphemy masquerading as a computer game. Because I'll tell you a little something Clive Wilson just taught me from playing his computer game for a fair number of hours: Clive Wilson is a reprehensible cunt who can't fucking program a computer game correctly. Fuck you, Clive Wilson! I couldn't even beat your game following Dorothy Millard's walkthrough exactly! No matter what I did, I couldn't get to the final puzzle with enough wisdom to be allowed to take the final test! How the fuck does that happen?! I have a feeling Dorothy Millard never even beat this game which, honestly, makes me think less of Dorothy Millard, may she rest in peace! I didn't want to think less of Dorothy, Clive! See what you made me do?! She was an interactive fiction bastion of purity and now I'm doubting her text adventure sainthood because your game is unbeatable using her walkthrough! And her walkthrough is just a plagiarized version of the walkthrough that came with the game! How could you, Dorothy?! You were the one pure bright spot in Interactive Fiction (aside from Emily Short) and your reputation has been sullied by this demon from the Stygian depths! Fucking Clive Wilson. If you were on The Great British Bake-off, I would root for you to have a soggy bottom every fucking time!
Go to hell, you prick!
SCORES
Game Title: Makes no fucking sense. Stupid motherfucking title by a stupid motherfucker.
Puzzles: Mostly all search until you have the right items type or turn off that thing you needed on before you die from turning the thing on. Also a Wisdom Limit that breaks the game. Idiot.
Gameplay: Just like every other early text adventure. So redundant, rote, and boring that it increases my existential anxiety even though I began playing the game to ignore that.
Graphics: Average. Although when a room doesn't have a graphic, it shows that fucking cursed Wisdom Bar that haunts you until you wouldn't mind seeing the end of the world, just to know Clive got his.
Concept: Acceptable. Except for the bird. What the fuck, dude?
Fun Time: If you include the anticipation I always feel before embarking on another mysterious text adventure, I'd say forty seconds.
No comments:
Post a Comment