Which Way Books #7: Curse of the Sunken Treasure

It's been so long I have nearly no recollection of the last trip into this rich vein of "I sorta 'member dat" but apparently it involved tracking the snow beast and promptly giving up because of inclement weather. Monster hunting and baseball, it's got more in common than just the huge, disfigured creatures birthed by chemistry experiments gone horribly wrong. Be that as it may, it's time to get back in the groove with some more Which Way mediocrity.

Will I ever finish this series? It certainly looks more promising than the doomed enterprise of finishing Choose Your Own Adventure, but on the other hand the same could be said for Twist-a-Plot and I don't even want to look at the cover of one of those again, let alone endure the lazy soul-rending snark within. At least Which Way hasn't broken my will to resist, but on the other hand there's a few books in the series that aren't available for a reasonable price, so this is probably a doomed enterprise that will end in miserable failure. Now that we're suitably fired up, let's crack open today's subject.

Never steal anything wet.

Even disregarding the encounter with nothingness I just had it's hard to be too optimistic about this one. The title sounds like something one of those random generators would spit out and the cover promises more thrilling undersea adventure, that's new and exciting. This might be the most phoned-in Which Way concept yet, which is really saying something. You know, maybe we should just quit stalling and actually start.

We get our usual inspired opening, always the highlight. I'm having "disturbing" dreams and then wake up to a mysterious glow coming from the harbor. I live in a seaside town, you see. Call me Ishmael this shit isn't. I almost wonder if this was written by a human being and not a BASIC program loaded up with R.G. Austin tropes. Better check the television reception to determine how personal this is gonna get.

I get a "compelling need" to investigate the glow. Believable motivations, intriguing heroes tormented by the world beyond the wall of sleep, a harbor...we're just laying down that strong prose game in this thang. I paddle my way out toward the light because what else would someone reasonably do? Next thing you know I'm on a ship with "Captain Abel" who insists we set sail immediately without questioning why random strangers are coming on board. Man, now Biblical imagery, this is like Moby Dick but superior in every way, from the literary styling to the reduced amount of whaling minutia, to say nothing of not having such an unfortunate title.

One day I won't giggle like a schoolgirl at this, but it won't be today or tomorrow either.

Captain Ahab Abel actually does give me an opportunity to back out, since the journey is going to be dangerous and no doubt highly symbolic. It turns out his own particular obsession/metaphor for the uncaring forces of fate is a green diamond "the size of a basketball." Somehow having the grizzled sea dog talk about hoopin' it up out of no where makes this even better. From Hell's heart he shoots the orange! Yes! And it counts!

As you probably already guessed the roundball-sized rock is from the Planet Galinka, curses anyone who owns it and is currently at the bottom of the sea with exactly two million dollars American worth of pirate gold. This ship sunk when it hit a glacier, you see. The mysterious light is caused by the reflection of the diamond, somehow. Go home and sleep it off, R.G.

Before I can even process this madness another man named "Stix" is proposing a mutiny and I'm wondering what I did wrong in the last few days to deserve this agony.

Getting a random disease and dying in 1890? Must be the curse of that diamond!

I decide to stay loyal to the crazy old guy I just met, always the best policy, and Stik simply accepts it and leaves. Well, all right then. Now it's time to choose a direction to sail with absolutely no information provided. This book sucks.

Ten days pass and the light steadily grows brighter until we're directly over it. Those random direction choosing skills doe, what can you say? Diving suit on, down I go. As you probably saw coming Stik is already there, somehow, sitting on the treasure chest and holding a knife. 

Yeah.

Using gestures or whatever I form an unstable alliance with the kind of guy who via unknown means, without a ship or anything, got to the treasure first and then was just chilling down there with a blade out because just use your imagination or whatever. We raise the chest, a feat that would probably be impossible considering the weight of the gold but I've stopped caring and I just want out. We also simply leave the diamond behind because who wants to be cursed by alien wizards or the like and head off, celebrating the considerable windfall. But wait! It's a pirate ship!

This is cultural appropriation and it's not okay.

My ingenious tactic of sailing "west" is enough to outwit the sea brigands and we're heading home with big money and Mr. Stabby/Mutiny isn't even going to betray us because unpredictable changes in the few traits a character has rules. I'm even offered a chance to "explore a cave" after the ending, but decide against it.

Now I remember why I wait for months and months between these reviews.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here. 

Video Game Slush Pile: Uncharted Waters New Horizons

Last time I did my best to convince you that managing an airline via a gaming system that is now mostly confined to museums is a lot more fun than the latest murder simulator. Today it's back to the Super Nintendo for another forgotten classic. What can I say, I was never made aware of blast processing or how "Sonic's fast!" so I ended up with a SNES. What was lost in tiny spiny mammals of above average speed was more than made up in bizarre role-playing offerings such as our current subject. I was a big fan of "Pirates!" back on the Nintendo, so this seemed like a spiritual successor I'd get right into. Well, not exactly. Playing it again as an adult I can both appreciate the depth and shake my head at some of the more tedious elements that scared me away when I was young and more demanding when it came to electronic sixteenth century ship simulators.

Trade various types of wool! Engage in highly abstracted battles!

Reading the manual (Yes, I read game manuals and even derive enjoyment from said activity. I'm well aware that this makes me the hardcore 0.01% of Old School gamers) suggests that you're getting into a very demanding and gritty historical RPG. It's somewhat jarring when you actually start playing and are faced with various cartoony nonsense. You can choose from six different characters who each have their own storyline and goals, usually wacky stuff like finding lost continents, repaying tea debts and bloody vengeance against the murderers of your lover. All right, maybe that last one is a little less goofy. Either way, the colorful 16-bit presentation lends a certain whimsy to your floating rob/murder/exploit natives operation.

Let's be very clear: they are two different men.

Depending on your character choice you'll be pushed toward either exploration, trade or piracy and the game keeps track of your success in all three of these areas. This means you can treat the game as a sand box and just ignore whatever quest you're supposed to be doing, although it's definitely easier to just do what the game wants you to do. Exploration was my favorite type of game. The combat just didn't seem very engaging and trade is just mind numbing once you figure out a few good routes and have to repeat them over and over to gain gold. Adding insult to injury the character that's supposed to trade takes a bunch of loans where he promises to pay back 1000% returns on the initial investments. Maybe business isn't really his thing after all. Or totally is, if he pulls an ENRON.

Take one lousy galleon and everyone gets all pissy.

Exploring earns money either by discovering monuments, cultural items and exotic animals and returning the finds to a wealthy patron or mapping the world for a cartographer. There's a large and reasonably accurate map of the world to explore and it's fun to see what you'll uncover next. Once you get back home you can wow local cocktail waitresses with your amazing tales of adventure. Sadly, these women are firmly from the four magic phrases school of communication and also think it's socially acceptable to respond to a story of a penguin encounter with "Did it bite you?" No, but you can.

Wait until you see some of the "interesting plants" I've got back at my place.

Various storyline elements trigger as you gain fame and open up more opportunities. You might even get to meet with a ruler (they're all autocratic jerks, even the ones from Republics) and earn a royal title by appeasing the whims of inbred European nobility. The game keeps track of your "friendship" with the major nations and even let's you defect to another unlikable crowned head, an act that will probably make the game unwinnable for most characters.  

That's another somewhat surprising game element: some choices can totally ruin things. For example, I tried to low ball the price of a ship and the merchant was so offended he wouldn't deal with me again. On the plus side, you can invest in ports and grow their industry, even winning neutrals over to your nation. Money talks, let me put this Spanish flag up, etc.

Sounds awfully familiar.

The game had some "controversial" elements that, in typical wussy Nintendo fashion, were toned down (Gray blood, yay!). The churches were changed into the bizarre "Round Earth Society" and taverns are "cafes" where you might eat too much food and get a belly ache. It's gutless, but hardly surprising. We don't want completely marginal groups getting offended and creating massive free publicity, after all.

 

Charging backward with its brightly colored rear...so much like a human.

I still haven't beaten this game, although I'm pretty far into it. After I finish the exploration character I've been playing as I might try some piracy one more time, but selecting a ship and watching numbers go down isn't as awesome as it sounds. Don't even get me started on the dueling card game. It makes one long for the massive strategic depth of "War."

Graphics: Pretty standard 16 bit stuff, not even any token Mode Seven effects. A lot of the characters look like elves for some reason. The ships look like ships. Probably a bit below average, over all.

Control: Sailing the ship is easy and you can even use "auto sail" to cut out the tedium that even the game manual admits can easily crop up. The menus are a little confusing at first, but for the most part are decent. Combat is a turn-based abstraction, so nothing to say about that.

Depth: There's a lot of opportunities to dig deep into the game's economic engine, but that basic game play is actually pretty shallow, relatively speaking. It can really turn into a grind, although you're free to try something new at any time. Things like national loyalties and the individual wealth of ports are a lot less pressing when you're just playing an individual instead of running a country.

Overall: I didn't fall off the edge of the world.

 ...who are two different people.

Aaron Zehner is the author of "The Foolchild Invention" available in paperback and e-book format. Read free excerpts here and here.