There is a game released a few years back. It was intended to parody the style of games that it represented, but I actually took it seriously because it triggered the small part of my brain next to my pleasure center. That “game” was Progress Quest: a self-running program that did nothing but have various bars fill up at various speeds, with pseudo-RPG labels festooned about the stark gray menu.
Progress Quest was the epitome of how I played role-playing games. Story? Who needs it. Friends? They just slow me down. Endless rote killing broken up only by periodic trips back to town to sell off needless gear and equip myself to better slaughter hundreds of creatures in a mindless daze? Sign me up! This is the “one more” syndrome. I’ll kill one more monster. I’ll gain one more level. I’ll gather one more stack of fabric. I can, and have, and will probably continue to do this sort of zen-like, “progression-oriented” gameplay for the rest of my life, and happily.
There are whole genres of games dedicated to the “one more” mentality. Commonly, those are called “Diablo-clones,” action adventure games like the eponymous Diablo, Titan Quest, Baulder’s Gate: Dark Alliance 1 & 2, Everquest: Champions of Norrath, Sacred, Torchlight. These games have stories, but all I remember is that there was an evil something or other, and I had to take my level 1 scrub, wade through hundreds of monsters that exploded into gold and gear upon death, and punch it in the face. And by the time evil face-punching came about, I was usually wearing all sorts of awesome-looking gear with awesome-sounding names, casting awesome spells while swinging my awesome acid/bleeding dual greatswords around like a fricking Scottish Highlander on meth, and so the final boss would literally just explode from my character’s sheer awesomeness. View full article »