[AVGN voice] More like faxing in a doodie! [Cue skit]

Simon's Quest never stood a chance. Zelda II? Just another competitor for the best NES action-RPG of 1987. Xanadu who? That ain't affordable! Why buy a home computer when you can get the [approximate] thrills of computer role-playing action on your TV?! Faxanadu, baby. It's only the lovechild of two of Japan's most lauded developers, seizing the chance to entertain untold numbers of schoolboys with fantasy swashbuckling and dungeoneering like nothing else. Well, maybe that last part's an exaggeration. Maybe this was the best you could get on a cartridge, but any kid lucky enough to own a Famicom Disk System had similar titles well within reach, all iterating on the likes of Xanadu, Zelda, Metroid, and Castlevania.

Poisoned roots flow from the base of World Tree, our hero's old home now corrupted by a cosmic evil. Faxanadu toys with a kind of dark fantasy that had so far evaded the Famicom's library, bewitching its owners with sojourns into caverns, forests, castles, and places that should not be. The people once called Dwarfs now scour this Yggdrasil in mutated forms, and the wise men of the realm wait patiently by desecrated fountains and shrines, hoping for a hero patient and skilled enough to heed their call. While I'm happy to report the game comports itself admirably versus the other ARPGs in the room, its niggling flaws and inability to transcend its inspirations pose a problem for the game today. Nonetheless, it's a testament to how quickly its developers improved at making Famicom exclusives, and one of the breeziest but filling genre exercises that Hudson Soft made for the system.

| "Daggers and wingboots, mantras and monsters await you." |

Famicom Xanadu, as the portmanteau suggests, had a mission to fulfill: bring Nihon Falcom's seminal 1985 PC RPG to the console-bound masses, no matter what it costed Hudson. The two companies knew each other distantly via the Japanese PC games market already, and this collaboration marked the start of a several years' long partnership. Hudson later ported key Falcom titles like Ys I & II and Dragon Slayer: The Legend of Heroes to the former's new console of choice, the PC Engine (CD). Falcom, meanwhile, reaped the crop, collecting hefty residuals from sales of their games on platforms they had no experience with, expertly handled by their partners from Hokkaido. From '87 onward, Falcom made inroads on the far larger console market without having to divert their staff away from the tighter, more competitive J-PC realm, at least until they made their own PC-to-console push in the early '90s.

What we now deem the side-scrolling ARPG had blossomed beyond its niche by '87, thanks to early hits like Namco's Dragon Buster and the diversification shown with cult classics like Layla and Mugen Senshi Valis. Developers tackling the genre sought to meld dungeon crawling, cinematic pacing, and skillful play into something you could play on the simplest of systems. In that sense, '87 was maybe the most important year in ARPG history: Falcom came out swinging with three of the genre's all-time classics (Ys, Sorcerian, and Drasle Family), followed by the likes of Konami (Maze of Gailous, Arumana no Kiseki), Capcom (Black Tiger), Westone (Wonder Boy in Monster Land), Game Arts (Zeliard), and even the NES remake of Rygar. I bring all these up to explain why I've rated Faxanadu roughly in the middle of the pack. There was a lot of competition in the ARPG space at this point in time, and Hudson arguably came in on the back foot.

You'd be right to doubt Hudson's record with console-oriented adventures after the janky results of Challenger, Milon's Secret Castle, Mickey Mousecapade, and arguably the first Adventure Island. The company had triumphed early on with solid renditions of Lode Runner and former J-PC games like Binary Land, but their competitors had leapfrogged them in the art of hours-long Famicom blockbusters. 1987 saw a lot of ups and downs for Hudson's various Famicom teams, with Faxanadu thankfully indicating an end to all but the occasional abject failure. Such a turning point helped double-fold for their upcoming PC Engine projects. Neutopia and Dungeon Explorer, derivative as they are, benefited greatly from the lessons in relatively consistent design that the developer learned this fateful year. I wish we knew who precisely worked on Faxanadu other than musical maestros Jun Chikuma and Toshiaki Takimoto, but good job to everyone else!

The adventure starts off in the main castle town, Eolis, beneath our once verdant World Tree. Despondent residents mill around streets and dim rooms, waiting for relief. The "dwarfs", now resembling creatures from the likes of Alien or Metroid, creep around the town walls, forcing new players to learn the jumping mechanics within the first few minutes. A desperate passer-by hands over their ring, the symbol of Elf kind and one's ticket to an audience with Eolis' king. He tells of a meteorite, crash landed high up within the World Tree, which has poisoned most of the waterways and especially the Dwarf fortress, leading to decay and depression all throughout. After receiving 1500 "golds" and the opportunity to train strength or magic (which just fills those bars, no stat increases here…), players must set off to reactivate the fountains, subdue the Dwarf incursions, and vanquish the evil brought here from outer space.

| "I am free from injury because of the ointment!" |

An immediate strength of Faxanadu is its pacing, with most of the game following a linear progression from below to atop the Tree, foisting small and large challenges upon you with plenty of leniency. The protagonist mainly grows via obtaining new equipment: swords, magic spells, armor, and shields, all buyable or present in corners of the world. Stat progression happens invisibly via changing equipment, while the visible EXP state simply correlates to each title a guru/priest bestows upon you at each temple. This all ties into a robust password save feature, allowing players to recover their progress (ex. equipment, key items, story flags, etc.) and rarely have to retread familiar ground. It took me roughly 7-to-8 hours to clear my first playthrough (not counting fiddling with emulator settings), and maybe an hour of that time involved any notable backtracking.

So, like with Ys and other item-focused ARPGs, there's never much worry about character building, just a well-incentivized goal of getting the best loot (which appears on your guy!) and reaching victory via guile and quick reactions. Controls are mostly well adjusted, both for '87 and compared to the larger Famicom library. Up +/down + A to either use magic or your active item takes some getting used to, but there's little in the way of obscure combat/movement mechanics to complicate things. What I will criticize, however, is the stiff, inconsistent jumping and collision physics. It's admirable of Hudson to test players' ability to time jumps and approach enemies with caution, yet I had way too many close calls where I should have just landed on platforms, only to fall and subsequently retry a section. Regarding enemy hitboxes, these are fine for the most part, but vexing when their attacks bump you back as far as they do. Since Faxanadu is a flip-screen adventure, not a fully scrolling one, this means baddies can and will force you off-screen, prompting extra loading times and enemy respawns which hurt an already precarious balance between affordances for players and the AI alike.

There's way to mitigate getting cornered or too low on health to continue, thankfully, as Faxanadu offers Red Potions, Hourglasses, and other power-ups that let you tank damage, stop time, so on and so forth. Most of the time one should stock up on these at shops in-town, but it's possible to find them out in the wild, either reappearing indefinitely or spawned after defeating a specific set of monsters on the right screen. Better yet, just use magic to avoid risking upfront damage entirely! The spells here evoke their counterparts from Falcom's Xanadu, but are generally simpler, being mostly front-ejecting projectiles and a late-game option which curves and flies upward. Judicious alternation between melee and magic makes the biggest difference in clearing dungeons and traversing the overworld. I would have appreciated more variety in types of weapons, spells, and restoratives on offer, but altogether there's plenty to work with here, especially compared to most Famicom contemporaries.

| "The power of the Hourglass is gone." |

It's by the halfway point—a daredevil trip into the skies, preceding a long and arduous trip through the World Tree's foggy, forlorn trunk full of abandoned sites—that Faxanadu shows its hand, warts and all. This game excels most when rewarding the player's tenacity with a sense of discovery, the feeling of a larger universe than can feasibly be shown. Lengthy hallways inside roots and branches give way to dusty castles possessed by the deranged, where warlocks, monstrosities, and confused soldiers patrol for Elves to slaughter. Each "tower" offers its own set of action, platforming, and item challenges, striving to fully exploit the game's possibility space. I always had a hoot strapping on some Wing Boots, levitating high above foes and hazards (bottomless death pits never appear, thankfully), only to slam right into a miniboss or something cool like that.

See, there's just one (or two, or three) problem(s) with what Faxanadu's, uh, doing here: it rarely if ever captures the tension and complexity of its source material. Xanadu on PC-88 had many flaws of its own, but one couldn't deny the sheer ambition, variety of traps and monsters, and involved leveling + customization Yoshio Kiya and co. managed to squeeze onto those floppies. Here, with limited storage (no Disk System upgrade here!) and a need to accommodate much younger players, Hudson's take on the concept finds itself at an awkward crossroads. The line between regular enemy, miniboss, and boss blurs without confidence. Chikuma's soundtrack, though somewhat catchy and appropriate, struggles to rise above the aural noise reserving sound channels she really needed for her arrangements. A mix of engaging but merely competent platforming and simplistic hack 'n' cast combat makes locations like the Tower of Suffer feel like, erm, suffering. Some truly ill-thought level design comes to mind, too, like mooks patrolling right in front of doors you need to exit and enter (meaning certain death in some scenarios), let alone the lack of unlockable shortcuts or fast travel by late-game.

To further illustrate my reservations, let's look at the keys system, maybe the most belabored aspect of Faxanadu. Many doors throughout the adventure require you to manually equip specific keys (jack, joker, king, queen, and ace) from the inventory, then use them to proceed. Since you can't drop any expendable items at any point, this can lead to accidentally stocking up the wrong type of key, and there's only 8 item slots to work with! So let's say I try selling them off in town, the logical thing to try. It turns out you can only sell specific types to key vendors who already stock them, meaning I'm stuck with early-game items by endgame unless I do way more backtracking than should be necessary. Going in, I honestly thought I'd get more frustrated with the Pendant bug than something like this, but here we are. In terms of which problems are intentional design or just coincidental, I'm unsure where the Pendant's infamous (and seemingly contradictory) damage debuff falls, but Hudson knew what they were doing with keys here. Inventory management, coupled with slow-ass text speeds, can quickly put a damper on one's fun if you aren't careful.

Though Faxanadu is still more intuitive and less guide-dependent than its spiritual predecessor, I find Falcom's game so much more consistent, dedicated to stumping the player while making their accomplishments feel that much more meaningful (and avoiding many aforementioned pitfalls like with keys!). Obtaining better gear and then demolishing them through hitbox cheese is fun, but I wish Hudson could have either added more features to enrich the experience, or taken a bit more time to sand off the edges which remind you this game's trying to evoke Japanese PC RPG jank. For example, where the hell's crouching in this ARPG full of monsters that attack from above and below? Why can't I attack at all on ladders except after getting hit, thus bugging out my hero's sprite and letting me act? With all these omissions and issues working against the player, it's hard not to feel like the latter half of the game becomes a slog. It all starts to feel rushed by the end, especially when fighting the final boss in all its Giger-esque glory. Perhaps the droning, repetitive nature of OG Xanadu is hard to stomach now, yet I find more conviction in that release's design direction than here. Close but no cigar, I feel.

| "Don't have negative thoughts. Remember your mantras." |

I don't hold any production difficulties or inexperience against Hudson staff, despite my hangups, and Faxanadu accomplishes more than it's often given credit. One's moxie in battle and exploration often leads to hidden rewards, or the satisfaction of clobbering bad guys before they ever get the chance to react. Minibosses show up frequently as the story progresses, with each posing a unique problem to solve (will I jump over fireballs or block them with my shield? or how about pinning these jumping eldritch things against the wall to not dodge all the time?). While it can be tedious to backtrack all the way to the beginning or grind for a big wallet early on, doing so grants access to a couple of the best items in the game, rewarding anyone who takes their time to learn the game ASAP and preserve one's life long enough.

Hudson seemed to have a knack for immediately following poor design choices with smart ones; one screen filled with hard-to-hit ranged attackers can just as quickly lead to another with health-dropping fodder! I find Faxanadu pleasantly accessible for an ARPG of its vintage despite the pendulum swinging from quite (sometimes) very good sequences to weak ones. Hit feedback's always satisfying, as is the crunchy but legible audiovisual design. Having just eight items means, in an ideal run, you can stock a bevy of potions and powerful items to seize the advantage, especially when fighting those damn flying bees or disabling bigger guys' means of claiming space. At its best, the game makes you feel empowered through both well-paced encounters and some of the more satisfyingly cheesy strategies one can pull off in an ARPG. Figuring out simply where to go and what to do is also a highlight, thanks to nicely written NPCs throughout the realm giving you hints and clearly delineating questlines.

However, Faxanadu's most convincing strengths lie in the atmospheres it evokes, defying the Famicom's limitations to create something rarely matched in 8-bit xRPGs. Simply put, it looks incredible for an '87 console game. Tile upon tile of ornate details, greebles, and textures found both in pixels and CRT blurs combine to illustrate an otherwise fairly generic world in greater depth. Florid passages transition into harsh fortresses, then heading into the Tree's ethereal insides, without ever feeling thrown together. This game does much better at capturing the interminable, oppressive sadness and claustrophobia of Falcom's Xanadu while providing real variety in environments. (I wish each town looked more unique after Eolis, but I doubt they had enough memory to achieve that.) By the game's finale, I felt that creeping dread on my back which the best gothic adventures provide, somehow captured within the confines of Hudson's simple premise and handiwork.

In a year of superlative action role-playing titans, Faxanadu takes a pratfall or two, desperate to keep up, and I can't help but admire it.

I’m not sure exactly as to why or what happened, but back when I played The Revenge of Shinobi, I didn’t really enjoy my time with it at all. It wasn’t too much different from the past two Shinobi games, and I would still say it was the best game in the series at that point, but the amount of stuff thrown at you, the difficulty, and some of the trappings the game lays out for you made it a pretty miserable journey overall. I dunno, maybe it was just a dud of the bunch, so moving forward with high spirits, we now get to the next game in the series, which isn’t a brand new entry entirely, but moreso a loose adaptation of Shadow Dancer that was released exclusively released for the Sega Genesis. Not sure why they didn’t just make a straight port of the original Shadow Dancer for the system, but nonetheless, this resulted in the game Shadow Dancer: The Secret of Shinobi.

Thankfully, after playing through this game, I found myself having a pretty good time with it, being a definite improvement over not just the original Shadow Dancer, but also as an improvement over the previous Shinobi game. Yeah, it may just be more of what had come earlier, but compared to the original, and moreso the Master System version of it that I played, it does feel a lot better to play, it looks better, and they actually managed to put the dog in the game! That already makes it an instant improvement just on that factor alone.

The story is actually different from the original game, with the main threat surrounding it being a cult called Union Lizard, which is the worst name for a cult I have ever heard, the graphics are pretty good, but nothing too mind blowing in comparison to previous games in the series, the music, on the other hand, is fantastic, being a massive step up from the previous titles (from what I remember, at least), the control is about what you would expect, but I had no real gripes with them, so they are all good to me, and the gameplay is what you would come to expect from Shinobi and Shadow Dancer, but with elements mixed in from previous titles to change things up… not too much, but enough.

The game is a 2D action side-scrolling platformer, where alongside your very own canine companion, you travel through a good handful of stages, defeat many ninjas and foes that stand in your way with regular and special attacks, rescue hostages to get points, extra lives, and powerups from them along the way, participate in bonus stages for more points and extra lives, and take on several challenging, yet doable boss fights. As an adaptation of Shadow Dancer, it doesn’t do too much to change the gameplay that was seen in the original game, or from any other Shinobi game at that point, which is perfectly fine. Yeah, the formula may be getting a little stale at this point, but again, it is an improvement from what Revenge of Shinobi gave me, which was much appreciated.

For what WAS changed from the original, it all mostly just comes down to the presentation, which can be seen as a downgrade or an upgrade, depending on who you ask. The graphical style is relatively the same, but obviously, there isn’t much detail on sprites or animations as there were with the original, which is kind of a bummer, but that is to be expected with a Genesis title. If it makes up for it, at least the music is better this time around. Not to mention, rather then loosely adapting the stages from the original game, this game has all new levels created for it, and while nothing about them is changed mechanically compared to the original game, it is nice to see new stuff rather then this just being a complete retread of what was previously seen.

Like I mentioned before though, at this point in the series, things are starting to get kind of stale with the gameplay, which could be one of my main issues with the game. It does stand out from other titles by having the dog companion with you, but he was in the original Shadow Dancer as well, so it doesn’t feel like too much of a difference here. I have no problem with game series that reuse gameplay styles with each installment, but we are four installments into this series now, and there haven’t really been any changes with the formula, which makes me wonder why I would keep playing these games if almost nothing is changed with each installment. Maybe it is just because this is an adaptation and not a full new title, so that’s why there are no real changes, but still, it would’ve been appreciated.

For one actual minor complaint that I have with the game itself, the final boss sucks. The boss himself has a pretty cool design, but all he does is just sit on his throne and summon goons to try to take you out, and them sometimes takes his head off to throw fireballs at you. That’s it. For a final boss encounter, that is pretty pathetic, and while he is still somewhat difficult, and while I am not expecting some grand display of actions, I wish he did a little more to make the victory over him feel earned.

Overall, while it does stick too close to what has already been established in previous games, I still ended up having a good time with this game, at least more then I did with The Revenge of Shinobi, and I definitely prefer this over the original Shadow Dancer any day. I would recommend it for both fans of Shinobi and fans of Shadow Dancer to check out, cause I think you would enjoy it. Although, with all that said and done… we never did find out what the secret of Shinobi was. What is the secret, Sega? WHAT ARE YOU HIDING? TELL ME, YOU COWARDS!

Game #278

Omega Force is a team with a pedigree. Known for their Musou (Warriors) franchise, a series that is famed for its high action, low skill barrier, higher repetition gameplay. A series known for their cartoonish exaggerations of historical figures. With Bladestorm, Omega Force managed to divorce their customary grind from the accompanying catharsis. A long, nothing game, full of large maps featuring inspiring locales such as Big Grass Field and sometimes Small Grass Field guest starring River, with character personality to match. It is a game that delights in wasting the player's time, without pretense.
To clarify, I should be the exact target audience for this. I love Musou games. I love historical settings. I love strategy games. I love squad based anything. I have a strong knowledge of the Hundred Years War, the setting in which this game takes place (or, really, is loosely inspired by). Even with all these things working in the game's favor, it is impossible for me to speak positively toward the final product.
During the aforementioned fictionalized account of the Hundred Years War, the player (a self-insert mercenary with very light customizable elements) encounters many historical figures such as Joan of Arc, Prince Edward the Black Prince, Gilles de Rais, La Hire - although the game does little to provide greater context to the character backgrounds beyond surface personality traits, this is largely in character for Omega Force. If you have Musou expectations, they will be met - the reason for the war is never fully explained, nor does the ending feel like anything is resolved. It is a means to an end for the meat - the gameplay. In this case, however, the meat is rather thinly sliced. Your goal, as a mercenary, is to gain renown by joining either side of the war - England or France respectively - and eventually, choosing a side and seeing it to the end. There are multiple "endings" (the game does not really end, allowing for infinite replaying of stages) depending on the faction the player chooses. A campaign run will take you anywhere from 30-50 hours depending on your expediency and desire to minmax. I personally saw the credits roll for France, and promptly had no desire to touch the game ever game.
The maps are all largely identical in appearance with only the positioning changing - large, empty, green valleys with the occasional farm and city interspersed. There is only one map type. Do not expect anything else. Performance wise, for a game from a developer known to fit many enemies on screen at once, you wouldn't expect Bladestorm to constantly struggle anytime more than about 5 groups of units are on screen at once, but it does. The draw distance for anything other than the flat world itself is also embarrassingly short - this is a game with an absolutely massive series of maps meant to replicate a famously long war, and yet I can only see units about 100 meters away.
Gameplay wise, departing starkly from normal Musou fare, instead of controlling one super-powered general unit and mowing through the masses, you lead small squads of units of various weapon types. These weapons, including swords, maces, bows, lances, and later more abstract types like camel cavalry, chariots, and even magicians, have rock paper scissor relationships with each other, with certain unit types having large damage and defense multipliers against the other. Controlling the units is simple - they follow you as they wander the (unneccesarily) large overworld map, pressing the R1 button (or right bumper, depending) makes them perform a general attack, and three of the face buttons have weapon specific special attacks. These can be a more powerful attack, a buff, the ability to hold your shield or aim your bow, or a projectile, among others. Notably, all cavalary units have the "charge" function, which, when obtaining set speeds, allows the unit to couch their weapons and become inarguably the most destructive unit type in the game, only losing to magic in raw damage.
The mechanics sound engaging at a glance from afar. The problem lies in the execution. At any given time, there are two types of units on the field - those who can be controlled, and those who cannot and serve to guard bases (more on this later). The player can use one of the face buttons (x on the sony end) to control any non-guardian unit, and lead them into battle. They can only control units who are directly where they are standing - there is no method of fast traveling to other units. While the player is able to bring a select number of units in with them from the menu (three types, many deployments depending on how leveled the unit is) - once the unit is away from the player, there is no easy way to retrieve them. This means, in practice, you are often miles away from a unit type that would give you an advantage, with no easy way to summon them, and your only option ends up being attempting to win via sheer numbers or level advantage, or backtracking, very slowly, for multiple minutes in the off chance you find a unit with the relevant type advantage (these units are marked on the map, but their unit type is not displayed).
A campaign plays out in a series of days that are 10 minutes long - a campaign may have anywhere from 2-7 days, and certain story campaigns are infinite in length. You have 10 minutes to accomplish any required goals - anything you half-finish will be reset at the dawn of the new day. It therefore becomes the logical habit to simply stop playing for the last 2-3 minutes and let the timer run out if you realize you will not be able to accomplish anything else during that time span. Wonderful game design. You will do this often. I would estimate at least 2 hours of my total gameplay time consisted of me waiting out the timer.
The goals in each mission are largely the same - capture a certain number of fortresses. On the occasion you will encounter a side mission - these are always a variation of "follow around the world's most infuriatingly slow NPC unit while they accomplish nothing" or "wander around aimlessly until the object you are looking for shows up". By the third or fourth of these, I started ignoring them entirely. The reward is largely nothing but money.
Speaking of, the game gives you currency to upgrade the weapon of each individual unit type as well as deploy mercenaries - by the way the game divides itself, you will have all of the rank-appropriate gear within the first 1/8th of a relevant area and spend the rest of your time with nigh-infinite money, encouraging you to dump it on the most expensive mercenaries possible, which further dulls the already mind-numbing experience.
Musou games make up for their repetition with a manner of visceral gameplay that engages your brain on a primal monkey level - it is akin to driving. Perfect for podcasts. Bladestorm fails at this. Strategy games include, well, strategy - Bladestorm fails at this. As a historical piece, Bladestorm provides almost no context. If there is anything praiseworthy about their attention to setting, it is the decision to make the music entirely in Latin, and to hire French and English voice actors to portray the historical cast respectively. The English Cast largely give good performances, even if half the mercenaries are Liam O'Brian doing poor accents of Irish and Welsh area-folk. The French performances, with a few exceptions (Joan of Arc herself is strong) are clearly struggling with delivery, but I am willing to chock that up to bad voice direction. Also, La Hire once asks you to "Let Faith gird up your loins!" which is very funny.
More than anything else, this game feels like a gigantic waste of time. The cutscenes may have looked nice for 2007, but they are so sparse compared to the enormous swathes of walking in pastoral wasteland that they feel less like a treat and more like a reminder that you aren't done yet. The game is full of ambition but with almost no substance, and it is little surprise that Omega Force has yet to dabble in another experience like it, barring the following generation update (which is often erroneously referred to as a sequel online). Should you play Bladestorm? Are you a gigantic Musou enthusiast? Do you love the historical setting of the Hundred Years War? Do you like strategy? What is your tolerance for tedium?
No matter what your answer to any of the above questions is, the answer is: do not play Bladestorm. Your time would be better served almost anywhere else. Including asleep.

I have fought with emulators on multiple computers over the years when every few years I want to replay this game. I first played it when it came out and I will play it again.

It's exactly the right balance of cheesy and spooky and is very well optimized for the time. They dealt with a lot of hardware limitations with style and art direction. The interface is a little odd but it's a relic of the time and isn't particularly hard to get used to.

I want the theatre it takes place in as a VR environment to loiter in.