Crimson Shroud Review (3DS): Roll for directions

The release of Crimson Shroud caught me somewhat off guard. By that I mean, I was reading that Yasumi Matsuno -- the mastermind behind one of my all-time favouites, Vagrant Story -- had a new game in the works and then subsequently read another article to find that it had just been released. Before I knew what was what, the game was downloading to my portable, and I was pontificating about how long I'd be playing this new game given the enduring nature of Ashley Riot's adventure on the original PlayStation.

Expectation, or rather the weight of it, can be a terrible thing. Given the height of the pedestal on which I've placed Vagrant Story, I was expecting Crimson Shroud to sweep me off my feet almost immediately. Despite art direction that looks like a direct lift from his previous effort, this is a completely different animal. 

For starters, while both are RPGs, Crimson Shroud harks back to the genre's origins where you'll find that the success of certain combat actions will be determined by the roll of the dice. Further to that, every scenario is perfectly punctuated by the the lofty prose of the Dungeon Master. This is probably the closest I'll get to playing a tabletop RPG.

There's also the switch from solo, arguably turn-based action to party combat with an explicit turn order to differentiate the old from the new. Battling goblins, minotaurs and other devious creatures here isn't that different to any other party-based affair except for the aforementioned use of dice for specific attacks and abilities. There are certain situations -- like an "Ambush" for example -- that inflict turn or damage penalties that prove an annoyance early on, and just plain deadly for a New Game Plus playthrough. It's also worth noting that characters don't level up, rather any increase in stats is determined by the items you equip. This isn't your mother's (or older brother/sister's) Matsuno dungeon crawl.

Some truly terrible level design mars what was -- at least initially -- a palatable take on tabletop action. There are several times where players are required to backtrack to happen across switches, key items and even battles, to progress the story. This wouldn't be a problem if the Dungeon Master (or anyone, for that matter) would intervene to tell you where it is you needed to go, or what it was would you should be looking for. Instead, three hours of a six hour playthrough were spent farming for a key item. Half of the time (!) that it took me to complete the game was spent repeating the same battle; something I only thought to do after consulting Google in desperation.

To make matters worse, this abominable design choice takes place within what should be your first hour of play. Most will understandably not make it past this ridiculous hurdle. I even consoled veteran writer, Brad Gallaway (of GameCritics) as he encountered this seemingly-futile scenario.

Again, in terms of presentation, Crimson Shroud feels like an extension of Vagrant Story. There is a key difference, however: battles and (most) story sequences are presented using figurines. Charming, cute as all hell, tabletop game pieces that I would pay a boatload of money for. Nothing matches the satisfaction of seeing a large, boss piece toppled. The near-static presentation method was a little off-putting at first, but it ended up being one of the key reasons I persisted with my quest.

It's far from perfect, but Crimson Shroud is well worth the paltry cost of admission. It calls upon the RPG's grandest, though oft-forgotten traditions to deliver a charming tabletop romp. You may need to search (for hours) for direction, but once you get your bearings, it proves a welcome lesson in RPG conventions.

The "Videogames made me feel some real shit" Mixtape - Volume 1

When my wife and I started dating, I started wearing the same cologne I wear today. It's to the point now where I can't even smell it anymore, I -- apparently -- smell like apples and selected spices all the time. Either that, or my olfactory senses are shot to hell.

My sense of hearing -- while dulled by decades worth of music turned up to eleven -- isn't quite as indifferent. I've shared at least one tale of sound driving me through the depths of emotion, but be rest-assured that music doesn't always drive me to tears. It often sparks a sense of nostalgia tied to games and places from the past, some of which I'd like to share with you.

A Perfect Circle - Mer Der Noms VS Vagrant Story
When I was in my mid teens, I was an awkward beast. The closest I'd come to a romantic relationship were text-based conversations with Aeris Gainsborough, and most of you would know how that turned out *sniff*. I was, however, listening to music written by people who appeared to have the same predilection for the melodramatic that I had developed in my near isolation.

A Perfect Circle's debut album, Mer Der Noms was the perfect accompaniment for the years I spent with Vagrant Story. The brooding arrangements, lyrics loaded with sexual and spiritual undertones, even the album artwork were great matches for the darkened cellars, revealing costumes, evil magic and intrigue that made Lea Monde such a memorable locale. The swaying rhythm of songs like "The Rose" seemed to perfectly match the game's combat system, which required precise inputs in time with the swing of Ashley Riot's blade. The instrumental piece, "Renholder" mirrored the beauty and mystery of the maze-like Snowfly Forest.

Both Mer Der Noms and Vagrant Story hold up pretty well today. Sure, the former may be linked to feelings of loneliness and desperation to which I can no longer fully relate, and the latter's technical brilliance may have been eclipsed (more on a hardware front than anything else); but I still indulge in the combination today. A few weeks ago I tweeted that everytime I hear Maynard James Keenan and co., I have the burning desire to relive my days as a blacksmithing Riskbreaker.; to my surprise and delight, a complete stranger replied that they enjoyed the same association.

Fucked Up - The Chemistry of Common Life VS Blur
In the lead-up to what was a relatively stress-free wedding, I was given the opportunity to work in a senior role for a few weeks to gain some valuable experience and some extra cash. It was a pretty brutal month in an area that offered some truly eye-opening experiences, and with every weekend there came a nervous energy that I needed to expel.

Unfortunately for me, the Grand Final for the National Rugby League's Telstra Premiership fell on the penultimate weekend of my secondment. My fiance was watching that game and the day's worth of fanfare whether I needed to escape or not. It also meant the television was claimed to watch the action; it'd be hard to even get my game on. I was getting desperate, so I plunged into the abyss that was our spare room and found an old, tiny TV. Fucked Up on my iPod, Blur on my PlayStation 3: I was going to ram my way out of this feeling of helplessness.

 Fucking carnage

As the raw, throbbing rage of "Magic Word" pulsed through my head, I collided with expensive cars and felt my anger rub off on my opponents along with a great deal of paint. Challenge me and be trashed: I raced ahead of everyone, everything... I was getting the wins I needed. In somewhat of a contradition, "No Epiphany" was on repeat for the better part of the day; I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Beck - Guero VS Mercenaries: Playground of Destruction
Despite an abundance of violence and destruction, Mercenaries turned out to be a reasonably light-hearted affair. The absence of colour and the epic soundtrack may have had one believing that this was yet another generic sandbox action game; but when Mattias Nilsson mutters about his love for M67 frag grenades and threatens that the Korean DMZ will be even more dangerous upon his arrival, you know there'll be some laughs to be had.

After a few hours of hunting war criminals to a score of lofty orchestral pieces, I decided that Guero would be a  more appropriate aural supplement for my adventures. I can remember "Missing" playing as I searched aimlessly for a "card" hidden in a treachorous North Korean valley. "Rental Car" blared through my speakers as I bundled over hillsides in an Allied Nations humvee. "Hell Yes" was a fitting match to some of my more beligerent helicopter flights which saw firey death rain on whomever pulled the short straw with regards to my mixed political interests.

Flushing out the odd warlord with a bunker buster sounds heavy enough, but with the help of Beck and some the best vehicle controls I've enjoyed in an action game, fun was always on the agenda. 

Are there any albums you associate with some of your favourite games? Has anyone else tried mashing these combinations together with the same level of success?