Here’s an interesting one: a parser-based IF that often feels more like a choice-based piece. At times the player is presented with very few, if any, options and in some cases, it doesn’t appear to matter which choice is made. This in and of itself is of course nothing new; many parser works have used a so-called “limited parser” or have sections – particularly conversation – which are menu-driven. I only find it interesting because with the ever-increasing popularity of choice systems, I can’t help but wonder if this work could have been done just as effectively using something like Twine. On the other hand, there are definitely parser-y moments and one puzzle in particular which would be difficult to write in a choice-based fashion without its solution being obvious, so there you have it.

One thing to note off the bat is that this story deals with subject matter – kidnapping – which might be particularly troubling to some people. However, it is dealt with in a non-sensationalist, if somewhat clinical manner, as far as I can tell from this introduction. By “clinical” I don’t mean explicit, but rather, subdued in emotion – almost detached. Having never experienced anything remotely approaching this sort of trauma, I really can’t judge the tone of Imprisoned in this regard – just a heads up.

As stated, there are times, especially when interacting with the NPC, where the actions, responses or questions seem to have little effect. There is however, an unexplained scene numbering system displayed in the upper right-hand corner, which does seem to be linked to certain actions. Not many possible conversation topics or responses are implemented either. Of course, all of this serves to reinforce the helpless feeling of the protagonist and is quite effective. (Some non-implemented conversation avenues might just be due to the fact that this is an unfinished work as well.)

I was able to get the game into at least two different states which would certainly lead to different endings, so it appears as though this one is geared to multiple replays – something I don’t generally care for, for some reason, but in this case could make for a richer overall experience. All in all, I was impressed enough with Imprisoned to want to see more.

– BP

This one’s definitely an introduction; I scored six out of seven possible points. That’s right, scored – this one’s definitely a game. What we have here is a throwback to the classic, puzzley style of parser IF with enough references to let us know this will probably be an homage to the old-school. The writing tone – like the game itself is fairly sparse and straightforward, revealing the author’s apparent fascination with colors and the descriptions thereof. There’s a subtle, but fairly easy to deduce hinting mechanism which I found to be alternately either useful and clever or frustrating and annoying as well as a built-in hint system (type “help”), which should be helpful to beginners.

There’s not much to say here, really. This very short introduction doesn’t really give us much in the way of story – other than a mystery which needs to be solved for the usual “this is a game and if there’s a mystery, it needs to be solved” reason, so it’s hard to say where the author is headed. I did look at the source code for the game and while it doesn’t look like there was a seventh point (… yet!) there was a location which I never visited. This one has plenty more work to be done to even approach the Zorkian heights to which it aspires.

Here’s the thing with these types of adventures: they need a ton of beta testing from a bunch of different players. Puzzles are strange – ­ones that are obvious to some can be baffling to others. Also – and I can’t stress this enough [note: don’t use Twitter memes here] – it is important for identifying the myriad ways players will try to phrase the same solution. There are things about classic IF that some players still love; guess the verb and / or noun is not one of them.

As they say, “Don’t complain about the coffee unless you want to be the one who gets to make it,” so I hereby publically (if you count announcing on a blog which has been read by exactly four people so far “publically”) volunteer to beta test a completed version of this game (after IF comp is finished and a suitable decompression period has elapsed, of course).

– BP

P.S. – Jason, my transcript’s in the mail.

I was doing these in alphabetical order by title – like they’re listed on the comp website – but somebody got bumped ahead in line for my own reasons. I mean, who doesn’t like to be liked?

OK, “story.” This one’s a story, not a “game.” It could be a game, though – a game set in the world created by Joannes Truyens for his interactive story Neurocracy. I would like to play that game, but instead, I’ll read about this world – our world, circa 2049 – on Omnipedia, apparently all the rage then-a-days. You experience this story by going to Omnipedia’s website, which has apparently been cached in the future and sent back to us for our reading pleasure. Not only is this a really cool idea for telling a basically linear story in a non-linear way, the execution is excellent. Even the search box works, albeit for a limited number of terms.

As with Omnipedia’s predecessor – Wikipedia – it’s easy to get lost jumping around all the hyperlinks and reading about stuff which may or may not be crucial to the mystery (oh yeah, there’s a mystery), but one can always find oneself back in the midst of the “action” so-to-speak. Much of this reminded me of Michael Crichton’s books (the book versions of his books, not the movie versions) particularly The Andromeda Strain. The technical research involved must have been substantial. I’m not a scientist or medical professional, but I did go to college a few times and to me the background information seemed just scientific enough to be credible. In fact, if Truyens just changes the dates and some of the names, a completed Neurocracy might be believable enough to some web surfers to start a Twitter version of the panic resulting from Welles’ infamous radio broadcast of the spelled-a-different-way Wells’ The War of the Worlds. (The radio play version, not the book version or either of the movie versions.)

I guess some people are going to debate whether or not Neurocracy qualifies as interactive fiction, since it’s obviously not parser-based and the choices don’t really drive the narrative like in choice-based works. Mostly it’s a story one reads and the choices are what order to read what and how far one wants to dig. My biggest usual complaint with choice-based work is when it feels like my interaction is akin to simply turning the page in a real book. Although that what this basically is, this feels like investigating a real mystery – deciding which leads are important and what’s the significance of this or that detail; I just don’t have to get in a virtual car or shoot anybody. For me it’s interactive and (hopefully mostly) fictional, so ‘nuff said.

I would love to see the author create more stories set in this world he’s gone to all the trouble of beginning to build – perhaps a more game-like interactive work – but that just me; I’ll be happy with a resolution to this one. On a cheery note: for a guy who grew up with most post-apocalyptic sci-fi set in the aftermath of a nuclear Armageddon, it’s refreshing to see a vision of man’s future where it’s not our inherent mistreatment of each other, but rather to that of our environment which will do us in. (Oh yeah, that plus greed and laziness.) Now for some sushi.

–– BP

Did I mention in my last review that these are going to be mini-reviews from here on out? [crickets: no, but that’s fine – go on, please]

High school. I didn’t really hate it – more intensely disliked it – but I definitely don’t want to relive it though someone else’s eyes. However, I trudge on and, like high school, I found bits and pieces of hide and seek to be enjoyable and even intriguing. In this story by manaal, I of course related to nerdy McShy boy (my words, not the author’s) who bears the brunt of our protagonist’s incessant whining about a mystery guy who almost certainly won’t live up to the hype.

There’s also the glum teacher who may or not be into something creepy and weird or about to do something creepy, weird, and illegal. I’m not sure about that, but I would like to know what “the saddest bagel you’ve seen in your life” looks like. That made me laugh out loud – automatic bonus point in my IFComp judging rules (which I didn’t use here, but that’s not the point).

This made me laugh and I can see where this can go several different ways. (At first I was rooting for McShy, but now I think he deserves better.) Overall, my interest was piqued enough to want to see more – which, after all, is the whole point of this comp. And review.

Note: IntroComp is over. In a somewhat unsurprising turn of events, the author of this blog was unable to finish sampling the entries by the voting deadline. Because he is in the process of turning over new leafs, he will endeavor to carry on as if none of this happened, rather than quitting as if he had never started in the first place, as would be the normal course of action in these circumstances. Please do not contact the author to remind him of this detail as it may shatter his delusion and would most likely cause a major breakdown, further disconnecting him from his somewhat tenuous grip on reality. Oh, and congratulations to all the entries. We do hope that all the authors – whether they prefer parser or choice–based systems – continue in their fine pursuit of the revival or at least rejuvenation of this antiquated, yet timeless craft. Special congratulations to [spoiler alert:] the winning authors: Harkness Munt, Brittany Hague, and Joannes Truyen.

OK, let’s get this out of the way first: I prefer parser games over choice-based games. I don’t hate choice games, I just prefer the feeling I get with a parser. This is probably more due to issues with game design rather than the subgenre itself, but that’s for another post I’ll never get around to writing. (Oh yeah, – for me it’s “games” except in cases where this clearly doesn’t apply – in which this comp has at least one. So I’m going to write “play the game” not “interacted with this work of fiction” or whatever else goofy phraseology is currently accepted. Sorry.)

DEADLINE, by The Conductor (who may or may not be named Jeff) begins abruptly – with no title screen or directions – but in a way, that contributes to the jarring feelings of a protagonist awakened by a ringing phone. We’re immediately given some choices – all of which are wrong except one. Now this is one of the things about choice games that I ha   don’t prefer, however I didn’t get all huffy and rage-quit, figuring this was just a basic introductory text info-dump, which it turned out to be. This intro also serves as a semi-tutorial for anyone who might be unfamiliar with how these things work, so kudos there.

When the game began in earnest the first thing I noticed was the very professional, cool but unobtrusive, background graphic. The flickering light of the subway – or metro – station is a nice touch. The play is fairly straight-forward and lawnmower-y, but this tends to happen in parser games too; here instead of examining everything, I just clicked on everything. (This is a text game, mind you – you click on text. The graphics are just background.)

Many of the choices seem to be either dead ends or are simply refused, but since this is just an introduction – not a complete game – that didn’t bother me. While I felt a bit railroaded – if you pardon the expression, upon replay I was pleased to find that in some cases, different choices led to different events. You read that right – “replay;” I played the game more than once. I never do that. Almost never. My first ending made it clear that at some point, I had been allowed to make a choice leading to a less-than-optimal ending. (I only died inside.) So just like in the old choose-your-own-adventure days, I started over. Different choice – different ending. (Bear in mind this is just an introduction, so I’m not referring to a “The End” ending, just the end of play. ) In about a half hour of play I was able to explore a hopefully-only-as-yet-sparsely populated map, get to two “endings,” and encounter a mystery character in a scene I was unable to reproduce in subsequent replays. Considering that can’t recall an IFComp game I have played even twice let alone more, that’s saying something.

If there is some way of saving the game, it wasn’t obvious. That would be nice; having to start from the beginning every time is annoyingly repetitive. I don’t know if this is even possible with this particular authoring system. DEADLINE was made with the Elm Narrative Engine, of which I know virtually nothing.

As for DEADLINE, do I think this is a solid entry? Do I want it to be completed? Will I play it if or when it is? Yes. [note: insert lame joke about conductors and trains here.]

– BP

Here are the entries in this year’s IntroComp. These will become links to their respective reviews as I (hopefully) complete them. Of course I can always destroy any evidence of this commitment at any time.

• DEADLINE by The Conductor
• Dungeon Alive! by Brittany Hague
• Gallery Gal’s Architectural Adventure by Damon L. Wakes
• hide and seek by manaal
• Homeland by Jason Self
• Imprisoned by Richard Otter
• Intro to the Devil’s Music by Harkness Munt
• Memorosa by Enrique Henestroza Anguiano
• Neurocracy by Joannes Truyens
• Steamed Hams, but It’s a Twine Game by Damon L. Wakes
• Sunder by KG Orphanides