Note: This is an ongoing series depicting the path of Bronte, a Hunter in the dark and cell-shaded world of Borderlands. It will attempt to paint a picture of what the game is like as well as provide commentary of some of the most spectacular moments from the game. Narrative is in black. Bugs and design flaws are in red. Memorable or ‘whoa!’ moments, and positive points are in blue. Enjoy!

Links:

• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part I.
• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part II.

Sid Meier’s Vending Machine Tycoon

I am in the Arid Hills. It doesn’t look much different from the previous areas, just looks like more of the same: drab, dry, dead. But there is a certain comfort in familiarity, so I trudge on, boomstick in hand, looking for pieces of some legendary sniper rifle and a mine gate key.

There are vending machines to my left where I can get rid of any unwanted items in my impossibly large backpack. I don’t understand how Dr. Zed and Marcus can be such successful vending machine entrepreneurs on Pandora. They seem to have vending machines in literally every corner of this world. How do they get them there? Who keeps them maintained? Don’t they get attacked when they come to restock, pluck out sold items and collect cash? And how is it that no one ever breaks into these machines?

Skag Scars

A skag roars in the distance. Sounds big. I go through a drain pipe to the first cross-section. There are several caves about 50 paces ahead of me, and quite a few of the skags are already on patrol. They are all either my level or a level above. But unlike my first few encounters with the bastards, I am much better prepared this time around. My sniper rifle does a whopping 145 damage per shot, and Bloodwing is maxed out to do the most damage per flight.

I spot an Alpha Skag in the group. They are well-armored, and take the most amount of shots to kill. Using a sniper is out of the question if it starts charging. But I have my trusty sub-machine gun with me, and despite a sheer lack of skill with the weapon, I know it can dispatch foes if they get up close and personal. Aim and accuracy matter little if most of your vision is filled with a skag’s teeth. But patience is a virtue, and instead of firing at the first skag I can track through my scope, I wait patiently, and inch forward one tiny step at a time. In time the Alpha spots me. He roars, opening its mouth in all directions, letting out a terrifying howl. I smile. Big mistake.

A single shot down its pie-hole dispatches my first foe without much trouble. I hear multiple howls, without wasting a second, I turn around and sprint to the drainage pipe I just came from.

Choke point.

I dispatch them one at a time. Single-shot precision kills. At least two of them go down mid-air, as they leap at me, mouth wide open, in an attempt to bite off a piece. I laugh as one skag literally explodes into chunks of smoldering flesh. “What”,  I say, “you didn’t like that?” And I start laughing. It’s a triumphant moment. I feel superior to the creatures that died by my hands in every conceivable way. But this is just the beginning, and I had the advantage of the choke point. That is more of an exception than the rule. This world isn’t all that forgiving.

More skags at the next ridge. Not too much trouble. The previous area had several barrels that I lure them to. The blue ones explode with a large amount of electrical damage, green ones are corrosive, whereas red ones simply explode. Quite handy.

My momentary high is short-lived as I spot a poor soul impaled on a large pike. Subtle.

Separation Anxiety

There is a bandit camp around the ridge. Two of them patrol a sniper’s nest up top. A quick succession of head shots alleviates that problem. But the camp is another story. In the blink of an eye, my shield is gone, as well as half my health bar. I missed the grenades that had been lobbed at me by the one of the raiders because my field of vision was severely limited through the scope of my sniper. Cursing under my breath I fire back at the rifleman. He has already taken cover, and with all the bullets slamming into me, I cannot seem to get off a clean shot. A midget shot gunner, however, is not so lucky.

Bloodwing stirs, and I set him lose. “Give ‘em hell, Bloodwing!” I yell. I tuck in to the right, out of the line of fire, my health nearly depleted. Bloodwing circles overhead once, then twice, and then continues the pattern. I am confused. Why isn’t he attacking? It isn’t clear to me then, but it appears Bloodwing is afraid of being too far apart from me, which limits him to a certain range. I am mildly irritated. Gonna have to train that damn bird better. He finally makes one last sweep overhead, and returns to me.

Keeping the rock outcropping between me and the barrage of endless bullets, I inch closer to my enemies, and then let Bloodwing loose a second time. This time he beelines to the crouching raider behind the barricade, ripping the poor bastard to shreds. Since I have focused on making Bloodwing a true agent of death, not only does he solve my problem with the raider, upon returning to me, he also restores a big portion of my health.

Revitalized, I switch to the SMG and come out of hiding guns blazing, lobbing two grenades at the remaining foes. It does not take too long, and within minutes they lie at my feet, fresh bullet-holes gaping like the unending depths of a dark, dreary abyss.

I hear something shriek overhead. Rokks. These guys have very little health, but in large groups they can swarm you, and rip your insides out in seconds. There is trouble ahead. I can feel it in the air. I better be careful.

Hugging Chemical Barrels is a Bad Idea

After clearing out another small camp, and inching close to the edges to keep my distance from the rokks overhead, I spot another sniper perch in the distance. I crouch, debating if I should send in my personal agent of death on wings, or dispatch him with a single bullet? Bloodwing would not be able to get him at that range. He has already established that any considerable length of distance between us causes him severe separation anxiety. And that is when I notice the corrosive acid barrel next to the lookout. A single shot explodes the barrel, showering him in acid. I watch his surprised expression through the scope, as the acid eats away at his body, literally devouring him whole. Good riddance.

The Fourth Piece of the Puzzle

My map tells me the four pieces of the legendary sniper rifle are in the next camp. I start shooting. Psychotic midgets, shotgunners, badass bruisers, they all succumb to the overwhelming firepower I pack, backed by the ferocious talons of my trusty companion. It’s a little odd they some of them come out of hiding only after the very last combatant on the field has been eliminated. I have a feeling if they all came at once, I would be swarmed, overwhelmed and killed. This all seems a little too… easy.

The sniper rifle has four parts I need to secure. I have found only three so far. I make several circuits of the camp, and my map indicator offers little help. I am a little frustrated, three other three pieces were essentially just lying about, why isn’t this one? It is then that I notice that only one of the buildings in the camp has an upward pointing arrow. And if that is not enough of a hint, there are three storage cabinets on the roof of the structure as added incentive. I jump above, and grab the last piece. But what truly annoys me is that this last piece was a good distance away from where my map marker suggested.

Sledge is a Cocky Bastard!

My map tells me the mine key is in Sledge’s Safehouse, which seems to be just up the hill from my present location. I take out my sniper rifle to scope out the area. The criminal hideout sits atop a small hill about 100 paces ahead of me. So ballsy are the inhabitants, that they have made no attempts to hide the entrance. In fact, upon closer inspection, the entry point prominently displays the words: “Sledge’s Safehouse.”

Cocky bastards! (See what I did there?)

Bloodwing stirs restlessly. He can sense the blood of the upcoming battle. I pet his head. I check my weapons, making one last round of the camp to pick up any additional ammunition. Satisfied that all my ordinance is in order, I start my short trek to the safe house.

Time to hunt!

Links:

• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part I.
• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part II.

Last chance to check out Sculpture by the Sea this weekend folks. Take a walk along the most beautiful coastal stretch and take part in the world’s largest annual free-to-the-public outdoor sculpture exhibition. Exhibition ends Sunday 15 November.

Sculpture by the Sea -- Photo © Frances

This is the official shot of the work (see previous post) that i liked the best. It has a solar panel on it, and must light up at night. Talk about something for everyone! Looks great during the day, looks different at night, big enough for lots of people to explore and enjoy, looks great from the inside and outside, uses recycled materials and solar panels. Congrats Mano Ponnambalam and Jenny Hein. You get my vote.

http://sculpturebythesea.com/gallery.html

We joined the throngs, and sweated our way around the clifftops. Some great art, and a festival vibe. Sydney does these things so well.

The sculptures on Tamarama beach were a highlight for me. Also the shoes coated in sand (must have been spray coated with a mix of paint/glue/sand) were gorgeous, arranged in an ambling line, in pairs, like a wierd kind of noahs ark of shoes, walking to the edge of the cliff. Shame my camera ran out of battery before I got to them.

On Saturday I did 3 gigs with Eklektika (contemporary classical vocal group) and the last one was at Bondi. We stayed Chez Bron in the campervan, and slept soundly to the sound of waves. The 6am start due to all those mad keen joggers, swimmers and dog walkers was a bit rough, but the swim in the sea and the free hot shower more than made up for it. What a great spot!! Plenty of cafes to choose from also. Great coffee and corn fritters for breaky. Mmmmmmmm!

I bought this book as my recent visit to Haworth Parsonage had left me feeling the need to immerse myself in Brontedom. This book managed to feed my appetite and although it is a work of fiction, I feel that it was well researched and well written.

There are a few clunky parts in it, which isn’t bad for a book of 506 pages. Quite early on Hughes writes that Patrick Bronte had liked to feel his wife’s foetuses kicking. It may seem like nit-picking but I can’t imagine anyone feeling anything other than a baby kicking and that word foetus is too medical and just jars the ear.

About half way through the book, it becomes very religious with the sisters worrying about sinful thoughts and ending up in Hell, about Universalism, Calvinism and Wesleyans. I could have done without this part altogether.

Perhaps they did have such worries but I think it more likely that they had a less questioning attitude to their faith. Given the fact that they had already lost their mother and two sisters, I think they would have been clinging on to the thought of them as having gone to a ‘better place’ as a source of comfort, rather than anything else.

I’ve known a lot of clergyman’s daughters, wives, mothers, grandmothers, sisters and aunts, (my husband comes from a long line of Episcopalian clergymen – or ‘penguins’ as he puts it) so I know from experience that religion and faith are not high on the agenda of things to worry about.

Despite that, I think that Hughes has made a good job of filling in the gaps between the known facts and has written an entertaining novel, which should be enjoyable to anyone with an interest in the Brontes beyond reading their novels.

For me, it was definitely enhanced by the fact that I had recently visited Haworth Parsonage and I could easily imagine all the action taking place there.

I think the book could easily be adapted for television and it would be more interesting than yet another version of Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights. The actress Shirley Henderson would make a good Charlotte.

Once you go Dwarf, you never go back!

In focusing on international tours, it’s become apparent that other travel themes are easily met overseas. I’ve focused so far on Europe, which offers brilliant attractions for studying art, architecture, world history, fashion, theater, and so much more – including literature. If you’re a brit lit fan – or at least appreciative of two well-known British authors, England delivers a beautiful literature tour.

Start in London. Consider this breathtaking capital, and the largest  city in Europe, your home base. There are tons of attractions here you’re going to want to visit. You should secure a guide for at least one half-day or more, someone who can give you a panoramic view of all the London highlights and point you in the right direction for exploring on your own. These highlights will definitely include Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, and the Tower of London. You’ll probably also get a glimpse of Westminster Abbey, Windsor Castle, and St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Enjoy some Shakespeare the way it was first intended. When William Shakespeare wrote his famous plays, they would eventually find their way to the stage at Shakespeare’s Globe. You’ll want to tour this historic piece of world literature and even take in a performance. For more Shakespeare authenticity, take an excursion to Oxford and to Stratford. Oxford is home to many colleges and is a fun place to explore for those interested in study of any kind, British literature included. Nearby Stratford offers Shakespeare’s birthplace and the childhood home of his wife Anne Hathaway, making your exploration of the great bard’s life even more complete.

Discovering Austen. Walking in the footsteps of the very beloved Jane Austen will also take you to some beautiful, charming sites in England. Her first home is no longer standing, though you can see the St. Nicholas Church where her father preached for much of her life. The surrounding area is filled with the landscapes Austen experienced as a child and young adult. The church is located in Steventon near Basingstoke.

Further Austen discovery will take you to Bath. Again, this London city is a brilliant attraction for visitors for any reason. Built on the famous Roman baths, the city is rich with history. For Austen lovers, the city not only became Austen’s home for some time but also figured often in her novels.

After Bath, Jane Austen and her mother and sister lived in a cottage in Chawton, a village in Hampshire, on the estate that her brother inherited.  This cottage is a museum dedicated to Austen and contains a book and gift shop.

Jane’s resting place is in Winchester Cathedral. Her final home was in Winchester, Hampshire, as well. This last home of Austen’s has a plaque in her honor.

The Brontes and more. This is really just the tip of the iceberg. There are more sites Austen lovers will enjoy, places we know she saw and experienced, including a number of brilliant estates that may have inspired places like Pemberley, the breathtaking home of Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. Emily and Charlotte Bronte have their own sites in England as well for even more literature-infused excursions on your tour.

Traveling internationally is its own reward, but how much more amazing will it be to experience attractions from things with which you are thoroughly familiar? Like, for instance, the literature you’ve loved.

Photo of Bath by Ben Sutherland on Flickr.

I’ve read a curious string of books lately – though I didn’t plan it this way, it turns out they all take place in Yorkshire.

The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield – an A+ novel set in early-to-mid-20th century Yorkshire. It’s about a pair of twins growing up in a dysfunctional household. It’s also a ghost story, of sorts. Highly recommended!

Emily’s Ghost by Denise Giardina - a retelling of a few years of Emily Bronte’s life at her home in Yorkshire in the 1830s and early 1840s. It’s fiction, and I believe the author may be a bit hard on Charlotte Bronte, but the book also got me curious about other aspects of the Brontes’ lives. I mourned all over again for the book that Emily left behind when she died from consumption, and which Charlotte burned. About all we know about it, is it was titled Heaven and Earth and that Emily thought it was better than Wuthering Heights.

At the same time I checked out Emily’s Ghost at the library, I ran across an old favorite, so I checked it out and brought it home, too–The Hound of the Baskervilles, by Arthur Conan Doyle. It’s a great one!

OK, OK!  The novel does not take place in Yorkshire. It actually takes place in Devonshire, which is in the southwest part of England, not even next to Yorkshire. But the moors in this book so remind me of the heath in the Bronte books, that as an American from the midwest I lump them into the same category. Come on, does Baskerville Hall (below) remind you of a

Bronte novel, or what?

Incidentally, something else I learned while checking out this book, is that Arthur Conan Doyle’s books are in the library under “D,” not “C.” So why do people always refer to him as “Conan Doyle”? Are you a C or a D, sir?

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

I have also just read The Little Stranger by Sarah Waters. This story takes place in Yorkshire, really (although Waters is an American, gasp!). I can’t say much about the plot because I don’t want to give anything away, but like The Thirteenth Tale, it’s a sort of ghost story.  

If you liked Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre, you’ll like The Little Stranger (and it’s less gothic, stylistically, so easier to read).

My old roommate Carol once said to me, in a letter, “My books are my friends.” I, too, can hardly wait to get home at night to my books. And my cats.

Ah!

Note: This is an ongoing series depicting the path of Bronte, a Hunter in the dark and cell-shaded world of Borderlands. It will attempt to paint a picture of what the game is like as well as provide commentary of some of the most spectacular moments from the game. Narrative is in black. Bugs and design flaws are in red. Memorable or ‘whoa!’ moments, and positive points are in blue. Enjoy!

Links:

• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part I.
• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part III.

Skag Gully

This place is trouble. Partly because the inhabitants include demonic dog-like creatures known as ‘Badass Skags‘, and partly because my opposition now seems to be around my level or a level above. I have a better sniper rifle now, but it’s not a massive improvement over the last one I’d held. I also have a new sidearm, it does more damage and reloads faster, but it fires a little slower than the last one.

I have collected over 40 guns in the first two hours of gameplay. That is impressive considering most shoot ‘em ups offer you around a meager 20 weapons by the end of the game. Contrary to my initial fear that so many weapons will become difficult to manage, the process is addictive and fun. Although my Hunter specializes in Snipers and Repeaters, I am also carrying a ‘Terrible Shotgun’ for when the blasted skags get up close and personal. Which they do. All the time. The problem is that I can cycle through only 2 of 4 unlockable weapons slots. So I constantly have to manually switch between the shotgun and the sniper.

Borderlands, in many ways, is unforgiving. Enemies come at you in packs. They are relentless and determined. Almost every fight with creatures your level or above is a challenge. That sounds frustrating, but it actually turns out to be an exhilarating experience. I am walking into fights confident that I can do a good job, but never certain that I will come out on top.

Fight for Your Second Wind

Then again, Borderlands is very forgiving in some other regards. The constant stream of unrelenting enemies finally takes its toll. I collapse. Instead of having to reload at a prior point, the game maintains the level of immersion and introduces me to the death mini-game.

I am on my knees. A skag is tearing out chunks of flesh from my chest. The screen is getting darker. The world is fading out. This is the end. Or is it? I realize that I can still fire my weapon from this warped perspective. So I aim, and I fire. I unload two entire clips from my pistol, my screen is all but black, and I can barely see. Literally the very last bullet in the magazine kills the skag. It falls dead at my feet.

My vision kicks back in with a jarring suddenness. My shield is gone, my health is barely a sliver of the full amount. But I am alive and on my feet. And that counts for something. Killing my foe has given me second wind. So I patch myself up using healing packs I purchased earlier, and I push on.

Objects and creatures drop ammo and money. The game smartly gives you the loot that you need the most. If you are low on sniper ammunition, it will drop with more frequency. If your health is low, your next kill will drop a small medi-vial. It is a smart system, and it works wonders. You never run out of ammo, but given the sheer volume of enemies thrown at you, you are almost never at full capacity. It’s a healthy balance.

Nine-toes

See the guy in the screen shot to the right? I hate that guy. I have fought through an insane amount of skags, psychotic midgets, and armed goons to get to this guy. He is located in a subterrenean room accessible by a small elevator. He has a good weapon, better aim, and comes equipped with a fairly powerful shield.

(Spoilers ahead. Highlight text to make it visible.)

And then there are the pet skags. I don’t remember both their names, but one was called Pinky. They are either heavily armored or have an unrealistic amount of hit points because my bullets don’t seem to make any dents. They come charging out of the alcoves of Nine-Toes’ room and corner me in the little space at the entrance to the room. I try running around, but I am stuck, and the two bastards are tearing me from limb to limb.

I am barely halfway through the health bar of the first dog, I haven’t shot Nine-Toes once , and Pinky is kicking my ass from the side. The sheer volume of damage takes its toll, and I go down like a sack of potatoes. I shoot at the first skag almost blindly, no longer aiming carefully, just spraying and praying. It takes a while, and my vision turns almost completely black when I get my second wind.

But that glory lasts only a few seconds. I still don’t have a shield and my health is practically non-existent. I go down a second time mere moments later, and no amount of random bullet sprays can save my life. There is a flash of light, I seem to be tumbling through a void of neon-lit tubes, and I materialize again at Skag Gully’s entry point cloning station.

Damn it!

Aside from a trek back to the fight, death seems to be almost inconsequential in Borderlands. If you go down, you can get second wind by killing anything nearby. If you die, you respawn with all your items, no durability loss, no experience loss and fully recharged to go at it again. Ammunition and health vending machines are also placed conveniently nearby for you to restock as needed. This trivializes the death system, and provides a stark, diametric opposite to an otherwise harsh and unforgiving world. On the other hand it helps with immersion and ensures that you never, ever have to reload.

No-Toes

I go back to the bastard’s hideout. Instead of taking the little elevator down, I perch myself atop the thing and take aim. Pinky is in my line of sight. She looks at me, her mandible(s) separate in three directions, exposing the soft fleshy interior. Animal instinct kicks in, and without giving it a moment’s thought, I fire a shot down her throat. She goes down in a single hit. I shake my head at my own stupidity. They are armored, but their face obviously isn’t. And it doesn’t help me that I figured this out after dispatching the two enemies to which this knowledge applies.

Nine-Toes himself puts up a decent fight, but in the end he is no match for my long-range-sniping and cover-taking abilities. The last shot takes his head off, and pixelated, cell-shaded blood sprays all over the floor. I triumphantly walk around the room, looting the various objects. I am disappointed by the mediocre and unimpressive ordinance his weapons cache has to offer.

At least I survived my first boss encounter! Or did I?

Links:

• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part I.
• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part III.

Sympathies exist,
Presentiments and signs
That baffle our mortal comprehension;
To dream or to see
Or to feel or to hear
What seems not to be there.
But such things exist,
Things beyond this earth,
Things beyond our sacred
Thoughts of heaven.
These are the things that reason defies –
But reason sometimes lies.

-Paul Gordon, “Jane Eyre”, a musical based on the novel by Charlotte Brontë

Most modern MMOs like to define themselves as virtual worlds. What this implies is that even if the player logged off, the world would continue to exist regardless. Bears would roam the forests, wolves would chase down and kill rabbits, Frenzyheart would fight on against the Oracles, the Purple Gang would patrol the West Side Heights, and so on and so forth. This creates a sense of immersion, a sense of belonging in a living, breathing world teeming with its own life.

The immersion factor is however shattered when you kill a boar, and another one pops up. It does not dig out of the surrounding mud, or come out of a farm enclosure of some kind. It simply… materializes out of thin air.  In no other genre of gaming, be it FPS, RTS or even RPG, do your enemies pop out of thin air and re-populate the area minutes after you cleared the menace. The person who gave you the task of clearing out said enemies is still in the same peril, asking adventurer after adventurer to fix the situation for him.

Syncaine made a great post about how to address this issue from quite a few different viewpoints.

My post is more about the way in which these enemies (re)spawn. It’s a pity to see Borderlands, which is not an MMO, come up with a viable and intelligent solution to the persistent respawn problem, without succumbing to the same old lazy formula. I recently started “The Borderlands Chronicles”, a series of posts that recounts my adventures as Bronte the Hunter in Borderlands, providing narrative, critique and commendations along the way. You can find Part I here.

The skags spawn out of that cave on the right, NOT thin air.

The later section of this inaugural post covers my fight with some skags, the game’s version of demonic dog-like starter creatures. They too respawn over time. The difference is that they charge out of small caves built into the game world. You cannot enter these caves yourself, they are a little too small. But the overall effect undeniably feeds immersion.

You spot a skag, you snipe it from 50 feet out. Immediately two more skags come snarling, charging out of the adjacent caves. And even if you kill every skag in the area, the respawn process will involve more skags eventually walking out of the caves, instead of magically appearing out of thin air.

The system makes sense. It is intuitive, it allows for the beasts to be persistent in the world without breaking the tenous thread it has with the implied realism. Why can’t we have that in WoW? Or Champions Online? Or for that matter, any other MMO that uses the same respawn system?

Note: This is an ongoing series depicting the path of Bronte, a Hunter in the dark and cell-shaded world of Borderlands. It will attempt to paint a picture of what the game is like as well as provide commentary of some of the most spectacular moments from the game. Narrative is in black. Bugs and design flaws are in red. Memorable or ‘whoa!’ moments, and positive points are in blue. Enjoy!

Link:

• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part II.
• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part III.

Bearings

I am outside the town of Fyrestone, accompanied by a chirpy, nerdy, attention-hungry robot, Claptrap. He is voiced to perfection as a cowardly creature who tries to act all professional and official, but can’t help being himself. Claptrap has just handed me a device that apparently plugs into my brain. The device shows me my health bar, experience bar, ammo counter and a compass. Over the course of the game, additional modules will come onlile such as the objectives tracker and the skills interface. I look around at the world I just got thrust into. I scroll through my two starter weapons: a rusty but powerful looking sniper rifle, and an odd-looking handgun.

What can only be defined as the town’s main gate stands a few feet to the right, a vicious sun beats down on me, towering rock formations, sluggish windmills and structures  together with sheets of metal litter the landscape as far as the eye can see. Yet, somehow, everything seems cramped. The overall feeling is undeniable: this ain’t home, this is a bad place.

Here goes nothing.

Fyrestone Fyrefight

Fyrestone is a shithole. Before we even enter the main gate, it has already come under attack by raiders. They jump into the town through a rock outcropping directly over my head in glorified dune buggies, and take off into the heart of the town. The robot finally manages to open the gate, and a mere four minutes into the game, and I am neck-deep in my first firefight.

Given that this is just the tutorial part of the game, I am willing to overlook the seemingly inept AI. They charge at me, guns blazing. When shot, they recoil realistically and shake their head trying to recover. But then they keep coming at full speed anyway. The sniper rifle kicks in my hands and fires with a satisfying boom. The second raider gets a well placed shot in his masked head, and I watch it explode in all its cell-shaded glory through the my rifle’s scope.

The town is dead. Or empty. Or both. I don’t come across a single soul as I make my way through the settlement. Doors are shut. Shutters are down. There isn’t any indication as to what happened to the inhabitants or where they went. Raiders attack me in groups of two or three. I settle into a comfortable pattern of taking out most of them from a distance with the sniper, and tearing hot lead into them with the quick-firing pistol up close.

Scattered along the way is plenty of ammo and money stashed in conveniently placed boxes, safes, piles of junk, the bodies of my slain foes, and even a few toilets. I come across my first weapons crate. Inside is a ton of pistol ammo, and two brand new pistols. They offer differing recoil rates, damage, firing speeds and other modifications. The cool thing is that if you hover over a weapon, there is a hud element that pops up, comparing it against your equipped gun. Any stat improvements get an upward pointing green arrow, any loss in stats is denoted by a downward pointing red arrow. The only problem is that it is not intuitive. If you have the sniper equipped and you are looking at a pistol, it will compare the pistol’s stats against that of the sniper, and not against the pistol in your other equipped slot. So make sure you take out the weapon you want to compare against the new armament.

One of these new pistols has a scope, allowing me to rapidly snipe my targets from a distance. They take less damage per shot, but the firing rate more than makes up for the loss of damage. The pistol handles well in my hands, each cracking shot reverbrating through the surrounding rock formations. Complete by accident, I shoot at a red barrel next to the last bandit, and he disintegrates in the resulting explosion.

Kill Ten Rats

I meet Doctor Zed. He is an strange fellow, operating on a dead body, and claims that despite his medical practice, he does not hold a professional degree. The very first mission he gives me holds true to teaching RPG basics. I am asked to kill a few skags, vile looking malevolent dogs that attack anything on sight. I head out from Fyrestone in search of their hideout, only to find it just across the road.

The fight, although quick, is intense. I snipe the first skag from a distance, it buckles, making me think I nailed it in one shot. But then it shakes its head and starts charging. I take aim again and hit it square in the head. It goes down with a pitiful yelp. I hear more snarls, I whip my rifle around towards the series of small caves where I spotted the first skag. As my visions pans left to right, I spot one… no two… no wait, three skags charging at breakneck speed. I panic for the briefest moment. Then I aim and fire.

The shot connects perfectly with the second skag’s head. It takes me a second to find the third skag through my zoomed perspective. I finally find it, it is merely 15 meters away. FPS shooter instincts kick in, and I pull the trigger without thinking. The first shot misses. 10 meters. I spot the fourth skag several meters behind the third one, running straight at me. I frantically click the left mouse button, willing the gun to shoot. The reload time, an otherwise negligible 2.6 seconds, lasts an eternity. The skag is just 5 meters away. Then the unexpected happens.

Just as I fire off the next shot, the beast leaps in the air, coming straight for my face, flying through 5 meters of empty air in a split second. Painful red marks fill the screen and my vision teeters. I get out of zoom mode and fire a shot at my feet, but the skag is already running away. Running away? That’s odd. Maybe it is a glitch or a bug. I’ll worry about that one later, there is a fourth one dangerously close. I zoom again, aim at the fourth one as the third one runs away, and fire.

*click*

The chamber is empty. How the hell did I use up all six bullets already. The first two shots killed the first skag. The third shot killed the second skag. The fourth shot missed. The fifth shot missed when the third skag lept. The last shot was wasted on the ground trying to kill the third skag up close.

Damn it!

No time to reload. I switch to my handgun. And that is when I see the third skag wasn’t actually running away. The third skag was trying to gain some distance on me so it could leap attack again. I see it turning around, realizing that both skags are more or less the same distance from me, closing in from two different directions.

The next few seconds are filled with panicked gunshots. The two skags go down, making teeth indentations somewhere on my thighs. My handgun has three bullets left. My rifle is empty.

I hear another skag snarl in the distance.

Time to reload!

Links:

• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part II.
• The Borderlands Chronicles: Part III.

The TV commercial is here:

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre:

Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, “She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner—something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were—she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children.”

“What does Bessie say I have done?” I asked.

“Jane, I don’t like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner. Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent.”

Do you remember the positive indignation of adult severity in the face of your early self-expression? I think the knife really twisted because you knew they were just flying by the seat of their pants, arbitrary jerks running scared, threatened by your stabs at mastery. They had no more particular power or experience than another kid facing you down in a play war.

Don’t forget that. Every person who attempts to wave some type of banner of authority in your face is probably prickly-sweaty under the arms and hopped up on 90% couch fort bravado. Poke their pile of cushions with a stick and see if it tumbles down.

It ended on Sunday 4th October in Bronte, a town at the foot of Etna in the province of catania sicily, the 20th edition of the Pistachio Festival, which began on Thursday 1st October. A great success in terms of audience this year, especially on the final day when there were more than 50,000 visitors, exceeding any optimistic forecasts. Big participation on Saturday evening, while the audience has been scarce on the two days before because of rain.

Several shows went on until late at night, and it was sold all the merchandising in the green stands, literally stormed by tourists who were on autumn holiday in Sicily and were carried away by the so called ‘pistachio mania’ .

Among the events organized by the Municipality of Bronte, the most popular is the Festival of the pistachio, a typical fruit of the area known and appreciated throughout the world. It takes place in the squares and streets of the Old Town, particularly in the Annunziata neighborhood and Corso Umberto, where, in addition to the food exhibitions there are some artistic and cultural events linked to the local tradition. It takes place the recreation of environments typical of the of the ancient peasant culture through the exhibition of tools of the past. The festival is in fact aims to enhance, in addition to the pistachio – the culinary jewel of Bronte, also the traditional handicraft production of the area.

The old town looks like a massive pistachios store, where one can taste and buy some excellent local pistachios and its by-products, such as cakes, torrone (a kind of nougat), mousse, ice cream, water-ice, ‘fillette’, similar to sponge biscuits and even green nutella, successfully invented by the confectioners of Bronte, one can also taste some local specialties, starters and dishes prepared according to the imaginative recipes using pistachio, from sausage and croquettes to the pasta with pistachio. But this year’s symbol and pièce de résistance of this festival was the massive pistachio cake made by Bronte’s confectioners, accompanied by many other traditional cakes displayed in a 24 foot long table with a total of about 350 pounds of cake.

So this festival becomes an opportunity to discover and appreciate the fruit, the so-called green gold, a precious resource for the local economy which is now tightly tied because it generates a wealth of about 18 million, 1% of world’s production. The Pistachio of Bronte, which was given the P.O.D. recognition by the European Union, is now part of the Etna’s typical products basket. The Arabs spread the culture of pistachio in the island and the its production spread especially since the second half of the 800 in the provinces of Caltanissetta, Agrigento and Catania. In the latter, placed at the foot of Etna experienced its greatest expansion, so that in 1860 the whole grazing and farming land were devoted to the cultivation of pistachio, and this plant became the pivot of the whole agricultural and economic system of the area. The quality of the fruit of this area is really above the rest of the world’s production, for its aroma, color, taste and organoleptic properties, perhaps thanks to the minerals from the lavic territory where it is cultivated.

What if prisons in MMO’s could actually contain the criminals?

I’ve just finished volume 2 of Pepys Diary and I’ve decided to take a bit of a break from London 1666.

As I was saying earlier, I bought a few books at the charity bookshops in Stockbridge, Edinburgh last week. One of them was Bronte by Glyn Hughes which was published in 1996 but I haven’t come across it until now.

I just started it last night so I haven’t got very far with it but already I’m really enjoying it and finding it such an advantage to have actually visited Haworth as I can picture everything so clearly now.

So must get on with it now and a review will be forthcoming at some point.

Time for a trip down a (nightmarish) memory lane. World of Warcraft, when launched was a completely different beast than what it is today. At last count I believe the game had over 87 bajillion (go Borderlands!) accounts worldwide. So it is safe to say that a large percentage of those players were not around for the launch. The following is an attempt to paint a picture of what a different beast WoW was altogether. This is Part I, and it only covers major changes in PvE instances. And yes, this is very much a shout out to the old-schoolers. You know who you are!

One: Attunements

Even now, sitting in my comfortable leather chair in a warm, cozy room, I shudder at the thought of attunements. In vanilla WoW, you had to get attuned for, or acquire a key of some sort, for literally everything in the game. There was an attunement for every raid instance, including Molten Core, Blackwing Lair and Onyxia. You even needed certain attunements for instances prior to hitting level 60. You needed the The Scarlet Key to get into the upper wings of The Scarlet Monastery and Balnazzar in Stratholme, you needed the stupid Mallet of Zul’Farrak to summon Gahz’rilla, hell you even needed the Key to Searing Gorge to get into one of the early level 40 zones. Then there was the Shadowforge Key, the Crescent Key, the Skeleton Key, the Key to the City, and the Seal of Ascension. I think you get the picture.

But perhaps the most trauma-inducing attunements were for the 40-man raid instances. Molten Core attunement was the least painful, where you had to extract a shard from the colon end of Blackrock Depths. The worst of them all, the dreaded attunement that had you running across both continents and in multiple quest hubs, was the Drakefire Amulet, which gave you the unique honor of being barbecued alive by the biggest bitch of all dragons most of us will ever come across.

The trend continued in The Burning Crusade, though to a much lesser extent. However, there were instances where Blizzard went overboard again, such as the attunement for the 5-man instance, The Shattered Halls and the gouge-your-eyes-out-with-a-plastic-spork-insanity that was the Karazhan attunement. For the purposes of illustration, here is a bullet-point list for all the requirements to get into Karazhan, shamelessly copy-pasted from WoWWiki:

• Step One: Arcane Disturbances and Restless Activity.
  • These two quests are easily soloable and should be done together as they are both required to proceed. Arcane Disturbances sends you into two underground caverns to use Violet Scrying Crystal to collect readings from underground water sources: a well and a pond. Each cavern’s entrance is very close to the questgiver and each cavern only has one of the two sources. In the process of getting to the water sources you should have killed enough ghosts to obtain 10 Ghostly Essences.
• Step Two: Contact from Dalaran
  • Archmage Alturus now sends you to the city of Dalaran in the southern area of Alterac Mountains with a report. There you will find Archmage Cedric to whom you must deliver the report.
• Step Three: Khadgar
  • Simply travel to Shattrath City and speak to Khadgar near A’dal in the central building of the Terrace of Light.
• Step Four: Entry Into Karazhan
  • Khadgar will now send you to obtain the first fragment of The Master’s Key which resides in the Shadow Labyrinth area of Auchindoun. It can be found in a container near Murmur.
• Step Five: The Second and Third Fragments
  • The second and third fragments lie in the Steamvault and Arcatraz instances respectively.
• Step Six: The Master’s Touch
  • Khadgar will now direct you to go to Opening of the Dark Portal in the Caverns of Time to speak to Medivh. Complete the instance and he will turn Restored Apprentice’s Key into The Master’s Key. (Note: in order to enter the Dark Portal instance, you must have completed the quest Escape from Durnholde Keep in Caverns of Time: Old Hillsbrad)
• Step Seven: Return to Khadgar
  • Simply return to Khadgar with the key.
• Step Eight: The Violet Eye
  • Return to Deadwind Pass and speak to Archmage Alturus to begin receiving Karazhan quests.

All in all, The Burning Crusade, while filled with its own set of painful attunements, wasn’t nearly as unforgiving as vanilla WoW. And thank Hogger for that! Can you imagine going through all that in Wrath of the Lich King?

Two: Raid Sizes

Raid size in vanilla WoW was 40 individuals. This implies that on every raid night, you had to have 40+ people log on and play as a cohesive unit. Have you ever wiped in a 10-man, even under good leadership? Now imagine trying to lead 40 players through (artificially) tougher content. Keeping it all together implied digging into the darkest corners of your being for the determination needed, and the conviction that perseverance commands success. Oh and you sort of had to be a dick.

Three: Insane Respawns

Two words: Core Hounds. Man, fuck those guys. There is almost no mob in the game that vanilla WoW raiders hated more than the the dreaded Core Hounds. Unless and until you killed Magmadar, the second boss in Molten Core, the Core Hounds, no matter how many times you kill them, would respawn within 18 minutes. Add to that the fact that they had a massive aggro radius and were always patrolling, and you had an inevitable recipe for disaster. The variation was Core Hound Packs. These guys were uber-cool because not only did they come with the same respawn timer as the regular Core Hounds, they also had to be all killed within a few seconds of each other. Or they resurrected. With full health.

Having catatonic Molten Core flashbacks yet? No? Let me help you with that. Remember Lava Surgers? Charged the raid, knocking players several feet back, potentially into other mobs? Respawned in exactly 28 minutes unless you killed the fourth boss Garr? I see you are convulsing now. Don’t worry it will get better soon. And in time, and with proper therapy, you’ll get over it.

This was one of the lamest timesink tactics that artificially stretched the length of an instance by forcing players to move through it faster, risking wipes and untimely pulls. I don’t think there have been any mobs in The Burning Crusade or Wrath of the Lich King that come even remotely close to inducing the sheer volume of hernias and aneurysms that these guys did back in the day.

Four: Heroic Instances

The concept of heroics was first introduced in The Burning Crusade. In the 1-60 grind, if you visited an instance once, chances of you going back to that diminished exponentially. Having primarily played Alliance characters my entire WoW career, I can safely say that aside from an unhealthy amount of runs through the Deadmines (god bless Edwin) and Mauradon (the Princess can go die in a fire), I can’t recall a sub-60 instances that I frequented.

The advent of heroics essentially allowed players to revisit places that they would otherwise go through only once.

Five: Instance Tokens

Prior to The Burning Crusade, if your item didn’t drop from a boss, you would go home empty-handed. With the introduction of emblems and badges in heroic-mode instances, WoW players can now enter an instance knowing that they will leave with something useful regardless of the drops.

Six: Timesink Penalties for Final Bosses

Vanilla WoW was notorious for punishing players for wiping on end-game encounters. Molten Core’s last boss, Ragnaros, when summoned, was up for exactly 2 hours. If you were a new guild, each wipe took about 20-30 minutes (wiping, running from the other end of the zone into Blackrock Spire, entering Molten Core, running through half the instance to get back to Ragnaros, re-strategizing, rebuffing, and then re-engaging). This implied that on a normal raid night you would get maybe four good shots at the guy. And if you made no progress, tough luck.

The worst of all was perhaps Nefarian. If you wiped on this boss, he would respawn in 15 minutes. First of all, this forced time limit to re-engage was an unnecessary timesink. But it gets worse. When the instance was first released, the first wipe meant 15 minutes of wait before respawn. Each subsequent wipe would increase the respawn timer by 15 minutes. So if you wiped for the second time, you would have to wait 30 minutes. If you wiped for the eight time, you would have to wait for two hours. I don’t recall if this was a bug or intentional. I do remember that it sucked more than Paris Hilton on spring break.

Sidenote timesink: Nefarian had a devastating ability called Shadow Flame. The only practical way to avoid this ability was to don a cloak that was crafted from the Scales of Onyxia, aptly named, Onyxia Scale Cloak. Onyxia, on average, dropped 1-3 scales per kill. Do the math. If you luck out, you could gear a 40-man raid with these cloaks in 14 weeks of successfully raiding Onyxia. And that is assuming that you will always have the same 40 people in every raid, which, in vanilla WoW, was highly unlikely.

Seven: Realm Transfer

Finally, realm transfer, in my experience, had a huge impact on raiding in general. The concept allowed dwindling guilds on low-population servers to cross-server recruit and maintain the numbers they needed. This feature, introduced not-too-long after the initial launch, saved many guilds across many servers and allowed them to pick and choose, through their own specific vetting processes, the best of the batch.