In this thread (dont name u'r fav game) some of us tossed out emotional descriptions of games, real or not. I rather enjoyed the exercise. While I was playing Battlefield 1942, I was sensing what I thought would round out the experience more, so I decided to make another one of these threads. Simply put, describe a game experience you enjoyed or would like to have in emotional terms without using game terminology. Here's my first contribution: ....... I pushed through the bushes and felt the last leaf rub across my face to see the pirate camp on the other side of the stream. I figured I would swim across and get to their ammo supply so I could take them at an advantage. I slowly moved towards the water. But the ground was too steep near the stream, and I slipped down causing causing them to hear my hard boots grinding across the gravel. I guess I should have moved on softer dirt. I heard one of them yell out in their foreign language to alert the others, and they started firing their machine guns at me. I dove away from the small dust cloud stirred up from the gravel into the clear water of the river. I stayed underwater to provide some cover for myself. Streams of bullets were whipping past me in the water, and I could hear their muffled yells and the sounds of their guns. I emerged from the other side, clambered up the hill and dove into the ammo supply. I grabbed some grenades and lobbed them at the large tent under which they were stationed. The blast ignited some of their ammunition, fracturing the tent and knocking most of them into the air, and some even went into the stream with a splash, losing their guns. I managed to pick off the stunned survivors easily. The ones in the stream were an even easier matter. I couldn't leave any alive - they might have alerted someone else to my presence. [edited by - Waverider on January 14, 2004 8:52:37 PM]

Another game from the same time period..

We had been chasing the convoy in our Type II submarine for the last 8 hours, waiting for U-259 to arrive and aid us in the attack. An incoming radio message tells us that five destroyes are approaching the convoy, presumably to escort it the last bit. We decide to make a quick attack without U-259 before the destroyers arrive, and then dive before they knew what hit them.

We approach the convoy from behind at 12 knots (our underwater speed is only 6 knots and not enough to keep up with the convoy, so we remain surfaced). First Watch Officer and I pick our first target, a meaty tanker at 8000 tons. We enter the positional and bearing data into the target computer, and count down the distance..1000..900..800..700..600..FIRE!

We fire at the tanker with both our front torpedo tubes. We now have one torpedo left, plus anothe loaded into the aft torpedo tube. I look at the stopwatch. Fifteen seconds to impact. Ten seconds. Five. The tanker''s hull is damaged and it takes in water. The next torpedo sets it ablaze and it starts to sink. Our last torpedo is soon loaded and we set our aim at a 4000t merchant.

This time we fire from 1000 metres, the maximum range for accuracy, but accuracy isn''t all that important this time, since the ships are staying very close together. Thirty seconds to impact..twenty-five..twenty..

SPLOSH.

The escorting destroyers have snuck up behind us in the quickly fading light, while we were busy watching the burning tanker. I order a crash dive immedeately. Once we are at 50 metres, I order a 180 degree turn. We are nuking the bastards. We still have our aft torpedo left, so we''ll go under them, then pop up and fire it at them, and then dive again.

The Sound Officer almost immedeately reports sink bombs being heaved into the water. I order the Navigation Officer to take us deeper. We go to 100 metres. We hear a loud CRASH above us, then another, much loader, which shakes the boat. We risk 150 metres. The hull begins creaking from the water pressure. The Type II was never intended to go this deep.

Then comes a huge CRASH right behind us. The alarm goes off, and the damage reports flow in. "Fire in aft torpedo room!", "Battery cells broken!", "Rear hydroplanes damaged!". The engine is dead, and the hydroplanes are stuck pointing downwards. We are at 180 metres..200 metres..the hull screams under the pressure.. 220 metres..240 metres.."We are taking in water"..260.."Hull damaged!"..280..300..TCHUNK. We have hit the bottom. We are stuck in the mud.

(I read these and I suddenly get added energy to ideas floating in my head)

The metallic tunnel slides backwards out of view behind me and I am flying free in the void of space. Laser blasts are whizzing past my ship, and I am coarsing along the hull of my carrier.

A nearby destroyer has weakened its hull, and the commander has ordered to bring it about to protect its damaged side, and to bring its remaining functioning turrets to bear on the enemy. Enough hull damage has taken place to risk losing the carrier altogether. The enemy blasts are beginning to penetrate into vital areas.

I can see a bomber group making a run on my carrier. I hit my afterburners to deal with the threats and shoot down the projectiles.

I turn about and can see the two behemoths locked in an exchange of weapons fire. If I can take out the turrets on that side of the enemy destroyer, it will give my carrier a better chance in the battle. Then I can work to disable the engines of the destroyer so it can't get away or alter its orientation.

The trouble is that the turrets are weakest only if fired at from in front of them, due to the shielding covering their tops and sides. And I need to take them out quickly. So I'm going to have to risk being in their line of fire. Hopefully my carrier will keep the operators distracted enough.


[edited by - Waverider on January 16, 2004 1:22:10 PM]

guys, you know, that''s actually quite cool stuff you are writing there

So nice that it should be in the Writing forum, methinks

Sancte Isidore ora pro nobis !

quote: Original post by ahw
guys, you know, that''s actually quite cool stuff you are writing there

So nice that it should be in the Writing forum, methinks

Sancte Isidore ora pro nobis !

Define game writing and game design.

My personal opinion: Game writing is when you''re writing the storyline of a game. Game design is when that writing is combined with ideas of an engine, conceptual art, music, and so on.

This is a description of a prototype I'm working on at the moment. I wonder how many of you will recognise it?

I lurch into a building of some sort. It looks like a barn or something; bales of hay are stacked on a platform above me. There are various farm tools stood against the wall.

On the floor is a rotting corpse, missing a leg and half an arm. I'm quite Hungry, so I lurch over to it, drop to my knees and grab the other leg. Pulling firmly, I rip the leg off at the crotch; the ligament has rotted away, making it fairly easy to do. I rip some of the decayed flesh off the bone with my teeth and devour it.

There's not much flesh on the bone, and rotten flesh isn't very satisfying anyway, so it doesn't do much for my Hunger. Still, it might serve as bait for something fresher... throwing down the remains of the leg, I move over to the wall and pick up a large metal spade, and then move to stand waiting behind the door. I don't end up waiting long.

The squelching noises coming from the other side of the door tell me that another zombie has arrived and is walking in to inspect my bait. Slowly and quietly I sneak up behind him, and thwack him firmly on the head with the spade, killing him instantly. Quickly, before anyone else can arrive and rob me of my prize, I bend down and take the head of the fresh corpse, rip it off, crack it open, and begin feasting on the brains within...



Richard "Superpig" Fine
- saving pigs from untimely fates, and when he's not doing that, runs The Binary Refinery.
Enginuity1 | Enginuity2 | Enginuity3 | Enginuity4 | Enginuity5
ry. .ibu cy. .y'ybu. .abu ry. dy. "sy. .ubu py. .ebu ry. py. .ibu gy." fy. .ibu ny. .ebu
"Don't document your code; code your documentation." -me
"I'm not a complete idiot; parts of me are missing." -}}i{{

[edited by - Superpig on January 16, 2004 10:40:12 PM]

Here''s an easy one to guess:

The Sanctuary lies silent. With brutal might I have cleansed it. All light turns as blood red and the very grounds of hell begin to rumble. My ally begins to tremble although he is stronger than I. A voice burns in my head that is so menacing it could be none other than the terror that rests in hell. I read a book and a portal opens. My ally does the same. We retreat to the portals in fear after catching a glimpse of the hell beast. We purchase many healing items from the local brave warriors. We clash swords with the beast for an hour before I finally deal the killing blow scoring a prize greater than anything I had ever held.


What game am I?

quote: Original post by Iron Eye
What game am I?

Diablo? (Some kind of hack-and-slash RPG, certainly).

superpig, that is quite, odd