Games With Grey

Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor’s core narrative is severely fragmented – multiple disparate narrative threads are explored in turn, though ultimately those explorations are fruitless; the game absolutely overreaches. Narrative missteps are foundationally frustrating and upsetting. But narrative missteps which arise from immense ambitions are far more frustrating and upsetting. And so it is here, as the narrative – the developers – grasped for greatness, though the end vision is one of confusion – and simultaneously lifelessness. A few displays of narrative heft, are present, however, this heft intimately connected with the player character, Talion, a member of the fabled Ranger faction. Membership in that faction carries with it expectation – to wield the Ranger’s sword, to execute Ranger responsibilities, strength and endurance are necessities. It follows, then, that Talion is a figure of strength and endurance, though possession of those two assets does not automatically deprive him of his humanity. Indeed, Talion is very human, and his constant internal grappling and conflict are profound indeed. Talion is defined by bitterness, too, and this swelling bitterness is totally justified. One source of bitterness – the largest source of bitterness – is connected to savage murder: in the narrative’s opening moments, Talion’s wife and child both are slaughtered, under somewhat unknown, seemingly arbitrary motivations. When one is deprived of their greatest reason for living, it follows dejection is inevitable – death’s appeal increases. In dying, Talion could reunite with the pair, a pleasurable and reassuring thought. But reflecting conflict, Talion cannot die, his body inhabited by the mythical, elven blacksmith Celebrimbor. As character, this Celebrimbor shows consistent and intense selfishness – his interventions, his self-serving nature, both damage Talion savagely, in that they preserve his existence. And still thoughtlessly Celebrimbor exploits his new host, wielding Talion’s body in search of answers regarding his own backstory and his fate – why is Celebrimbor forced to inhabit this body? Answer to this question is his guiding motivation. A compelling investigative tone abounds here – some narrative successes are achieved.  

This achievement is of course observable in another secondary thread – Talion’s thirst for revenge. Refused death, he can at least obtain delight by inflicting death upon those who destroyed and fragmented his former existence, deprived him of all hope. In so fiercely pursuing death, in seeking to inflict murder, logic suggests Talion should morph into a vengeful figure, little removed from the level of beast; logic suggests his humanity should evaporate – and consequently his endearing attributes would be subject to equal evaporation. Ultimately, though, logic is proven untrue, and even while committing vile actions Talion retains humanity; endearment not only exists but actually thrives within Talion. But then there are the abundant failings, the constant overreaching. Consider one narrative thread which revolves around Talion’s interactions with a fellow Ranger, one which illuminates Talion’s strange connection with a gruff dwarven hunter, or one which focuses intensely on Gollum, that ghastly figure more animal than man. Consider also one which dwells upon the tragic existence of a blind queen and seeress, a doomed figure though one of untold powers and sway. Foundationally, these figures, ideas, and subplots are sound – swelling potential exists here. But too many threads are touched upon, and any given thread’s potentials for poignancy or heft are unexplored; two missions may focus on Torvin the hunter, and then just as soon as he is introduced he promptly disappears again, before his characterization is afforded time to show itself and develop. Were the cast of characters smaller, were fewer threads implemented, the narrative would benefit immeasurably; Torvin the dwarven hunter’s inclusion hampers the narrative rather than bolsters it. As is stands, then, the sole consistent sources of greatest stem from profound Talion and Celebrimbor both.

In Shadow of Mordor, massive achievements are made in the spheres of presentation, atmosphere, and world-building. Many of these achievements are directly connected to the gameworld’s characteristic uniqueness, its departures from convention. Open-world games dominate the industry in the present moment, developers realizing the values of player freedom. This realization guides their hand – openness is to be cherished above all things; a masterful gameworld must be constructed. Fair enough. Sound enough. Limitations persist: mostly, cityscapes and urban sprawls are explored, though certainly some titles emphasize more rural, more widely-distributed locations. Foundationally, Shadow of Mordor rejects these conservative gameworlds – the player is not navigating tired New York or some lazy interpretation of New York. Instead, they are able to explore a world quite detached from this one, though a world which still clings to relative believability and humanity. Loneliness abounds in this game world, as very few NPCs are seen in navigation – slaves and the antagonistic uruk are essentially the only entities freely moving to and fro, though the bestial caragor periodically assert their presence. Here, with this willed sparseness, is another rejection – this world is the inverse of bustling, as the developers pushed back against those selfsame New York City streets crowded with dozens of distinct NPCs whose presence suggests life – or the illusion of life. This game delights in its loneliness, and loneliness’ pervasiveness contributes to the overall atmospheric nature, atmospherics generally showing profoundness; they are inherently engrossing. These environments’ loneliness is supplemented further still when considering man’s presence within the gameworld – or former presence, for now their structures and societal contributions are in considerable decay. Rather than navigating the maps and stumbling upon some towering construction reflective of humankind’s swelling greatness and ingenuity, the player will instead encounter rubble, mere remnants of that once grand construction; humans have been defeated.

This world is no longer their world; this world is the world of the hostile and barbaric uruk. While uruk influence is already great – indeed they have achieved dominance – they seek to give tangible illustration of that dominance. In consequence, massive strongholds are constructed. Oftentimes towering and ambitious in scope, they are intimidating beasts, suggesting uruk menace and even a civilized thoughtfulness – uruk are simultaneously barbarous and refined (barbarity more commonly predominates, of course). So: ruins suggest the former human presence, while strongholds’ presence illustrates the profound shift in leadership; the struggle has concluded. And so the player navigates the game world, periodically stumbling upon majestic structures preserved by magic – towers constructed by the elves in a forgotten time. These shimmering structures in all their grandness directly counter the darkness and violence suggested by the other architecture, that constructed by uruk hands. Elves, then, had their own presence too – in including these objects, overall lore is enhanced and enriched here, lore generally being of paramount importance to the overall experience. Technically and creatively, meanwhile, further successes are achieved here. Two distinct maps are explorable in turn, firstly Udun and lastly the Sea of Nurnen. That former location is defined by barrenness and sparsity, the latter by verdancy and beautiful overgrowth, arresting sunlight – each region manages to achieve its own distinct identity, and while neither map is large, exploration generally maintains enjoyability; immersiveness fiercely abounds. A dynamic day / night cycle contributes to overall organicness, which is still furthered by weather systems’ implementation – rains are commonplace, displacing that sweet and sustaining sunlight. This rain’s inclusion, meanwhile, only heightens the already intense moodiness and generally despairing tone. Logically, intense despair suggests ominousness or uneasiness – it suggests potential player exhaustion. Exhaustion is averted, and hours can flash by in an instant.

The profound successes characterizing world-building and presentation are matched by the gameplay systems, whether speaking of open combat, stealth, or the more quiet and contemplative moments of simple exploration. Combat especially is exhilarating and liberating, the title adopting the mechanics first introduced within Arkham Asylum, mechanics improved upon and almost perfected in that title’s subsequent sequels and prequel. The adoption here is flawless, though crucially the game is not simple adopter, but is also experimenter, advancer – combat here shows fair uniqueness and departures from the Arkham titles. Many departures are connected to combat’s generally visceral nature – decapitations abound, Talion dispatching the uruk with grace and violence, plunging his blade through their exposed and fragile breasts. This visceralness is not explored seemingly to indulge developer sadomasochism. Rather, violence in combat is included to illustrate that world’s darkness – violence is included to communicate a message, a profound admission indeed: here is some thoughtfulness, gameplay informing story. And so, the player is empowered, can dart about the environments crossing swords with the many uruk. And the uruk are many – it is not uncommon to face dozens of them at any one moment (depending in large part on where precisely the skirmishes are located on the map, strongholds being especially well defended). In most titles, combatting two or three dozen enemies at once spells disaster – success is neigh unachievable, or achievable only with profound exertions and a bit of luck. Not so here, and combat generally is employed to evoke a power fantasy – Talion may cling to much of his humanity, but gleaming sword in hand he ultimately transcends his humanity; combat is singularly enjoyable with its rampant and consistent exhilaration.  

Thoughtfulness exists, too, in that Shadow of Mordor is no button-masher; timing is of great importance, as the window for successful counters – central to the experience – is sometimes narrow. But the mechanics are intuitive, their minutia easily grasped. Once the systems are understood, indescribable are the sensations felt. By the late game, the player will have access to a dizzying variety of various combat maneuvers, each of which opens up new flexibilities and approaches in any given engagement – the game is far from static. Here, executions are present, maneuvers which kill any given target on the instant, no matter their apparent ferocity or resiliency. And then powers like the wraith flash see implementation, that ability having a rather large AOE. Accordingly, it is very useful in creating distance between Talion and his present opposition. Crucially, these devastating abilities are not always accessible, their usage being directly connected to a combo meter. Until a predetermined threshold has been met (and this threshold can actually be reduced in time), the maneuvers are barred. Excitement consistently mounts, and seeing the meter’s text go from white to red – indicating the threshold has been met – prompts satisfaction and reassurance; now some especially determined and ferocious foe can be dispatched with ease. And some enemies are indeed resilient – multiple enemy types exist, running the gamut from simple unarmored grunt through towards menacing, hulking, shield-wearing brute. In including various hostile NPCs, each necessitating slightly different strategies, the developers inject freshness into the combat. Simultaneously, this diversity ensures that tactical considerations are never forgotten – cerebralness maintains importance. Combat, then, is a profound mixture of freneticism and contemplativeness.

Stealth shows similar enjoyability, though features comparatively lesser depth. Much evasion revolves around sound production – sprint wildly towards an enemy and that enemy is prone to alertness on the instant. Visibility matters, too, and in order to lessen both visibility and noise production a crouching maneuver is implemented. Overgrown foliage can be used for protracted concealment, while seizing the high ground greatly lessens visibility. Stealth here prompts engagement and satisfaction, certainly, though here the derivativeness is rather painful. In its combat systems, the developers not only took the mechanics from the Arkham games – they manipulated them, too. Some originality exists alongside this adoption. Here, though, with the stealth, the developers passionately and lazily embraced the mechanics from other titles – see the Assassin’s Creed series as it stood in 2014 – without altering them in any substantial fashion; the developers clung to safeness, and stealth’s unoriginality must absolutely be noted as damaging the whole. Ranged systems fair somewhat better, show greater complexity and novelness, as the player has access to Celebrimbor’s bow at any moment. Whenever notching an arrow, by default a focus mode is entered. This state slows time for a fair duration, allowing the player to line up a more accurate and more devastating shot, headshots killing most uruk grunts, shielded and armored or otherwise. Archery generally is immensely empowering and is essential to success – if one is overwhelmed by simple melee combat, they can rely upon the bow, which oftentimes frees up an avenue of escape or victory. But careful attention to balancing exists, too, in that focus and arrows – here called elf shot – are finite in quantity. In order to obtain more of these substances, the player can interact with arrows distributed throughout the gameworld or drain uruk of some of their essence. Having access to some ten or so elf shot, so devastating,is immensely reassuring, and gameplay’s organicness must be remarked upon; the player will wield sword, bow, and dagger in turn, clinging to the shadows one moment, stalking prey, while the next they may rush forth violently, aggressively. Wonderful synergy exists, and the neat cohesiveness of these disparate systems contributes to gameplay complexity, excitement – the player is always endowed with the proper tools to grapple with and surmount all obstacles.     

Rather robust progression systems exist here, too, chiefly divided into three distinct branches. One branch revolves around active abilities, granting access to the mentioned combat maneuvers, or providing player access to throwing knives, instructing them how to mount the bestial caragor, how to brand enemies, how to subsequently slaughter branded enemies. On and on go the skills here, and they easily exceed two dozen in quantity. Rather than having all abilities unlocked from the first, clever gating also exists, in that dramatically powerful abilities are locked behind a power level, which is naturally increased whenever slaughtering a major uruk figure or intervening in uruk affairs. Experience distribution here is very fair, and while not all abilities show considerable usefulness – many are very situational – fair depth exists here as to make the systems exciting. Crucially, the developers implemented these progression systems without incorporating their potential crypticness – everything is streamlined and understandable, whereas in other titles, progression is needlessly obtuse. Consider only a secondary upgrade branch, very straightforward though still vital to eventual success. This system, this branch, largely revolves around passive upgrades – one branch expands health, another focus, another increasing overall elf shot. Increasing a health meter is rarely gratifying, though heightened health is integral to combat victory. With this integralness comes necessity – the points needed to obtain these upgrades must be sought, and earnestly; even while experience point distribution is quite generous, still the player is encouraged to engage with secondary content, for this engagement means player advancement is achieved earlier and swifter – the experience becomes less punishing, more accessible. Side content actually matters, though admittedly much side content is dull in construction. The third progression system, meanwhile, is alternately dull and exciting, this branch centering on runes, objects which can be affixed to either the dagger, the bow, or the sword. Mostly, these runes confer passive benefits – one such rune might reward health upon a successful execution. Or, one rune might increase overall damage output at higher combat streaks; lethality increases. The rune system certainly prompts some enjoyability, though mostly the runes obtained are also rather useless – increased lethality is compelling in theory, though in practice it is uncompelling. But some excitement does indeed exist: epic runes have their presence, and actually discovering these objects is cathartic and satisfying indeed. These runes typically have dramatic usefulness – consider one which coats Talion’s blade in fire while at amplified combo levels. These objects’ potentially empowering attributes, the randomization of their spawning, actually increase the allure of rune hunting – it is quite enjoyable to dart about Udun or the Sea of Nurnen in search of uruk, knowing that any given elevated uruk might drop an epic rune, something which can fundamentally alter the gameplay experience. The system is very well implemented, though a fusion system of sorts would be very appreciated. Had the developers allowed the player to combine mundane rune with mundane rune, all in the hopes of acquiring an epic rune – another source of player excitement and engagement would erupt. Missed opportunity or no, the progression systems across the board are satisfying, and the player is constantly working towards something, whether it be as unexciting as a health bar extension or something as exciting as an ability which essentially facilitates limited teleportation.

Shadow of Mordor’s world-building may be steeped in compelling originality, though the greatest source of unique lies within the nemesis system. As object, it fosters a certain energeticness and organicness –the various uruk inhabiting the lands are constantly engaged in a power struggle, each vying for a position of dominance, and most fondly the designation of warchief. The system broadly serves an almost humanizing function, transforming the uruk from unnamed nonentities through towards real figures with real fears and strengths. Each is named, while each features a seemingly unique character model, all for purposes of differentiation. This uniqueness prompts groundedness and epicness both, as especially problematic uruk almost become rivals, remembering the player whenever again crossing blades with Talion. Skirmishes with the warchiefs are especially epic, as their emergence is accompanied by elaborate and enthusiastic chanting by their fellow and subservient uruk. The systems are not only enjoyable and unique, but they are also very complex – perhaps excessively so. I didn’t have a firm grasp on the system’s minutia until maybe twenty hours into the experience. Grasping that minutia prompted ample enjoyment – the experience improved – but the hands-off nature with which the nemesis system is developed is a potential failing; the player is rather left in the dark, forced to grapple with these complexities independently. But the reward is, again, very intense. Consider how much this system increases overall cerebralness and experimentation. Each individual uruk possesses distinct vulnerabilities and strengths – some are completely immune to ranged damage, for instance, while others are frightened by fire or caragor, retreating upon sighting either object. While the player need not always exploit their vulnerabilities for success, ultimately doing so is singularly satisfying, as the developers encourage the player to implement strategies they might otherwise neglect. Gaining intel on a targeted uruk, learning that he dies upon contact with dagger and a stealth assassination and then promptly wielding that dagger covertly suggests Talion’s elevatedness, awareness. Dispatching a warchief’s bodyguards before advancing upon the warchief proper is absolutely vital; these bodyguards; destruction makes larger assault easier – in many scenarios preparedness is essential. Tactical opportunities abound here, all because of uruk differentiation. The player can play a more active role within the nemesis system, certainly, manipulating captains and warchiefs alike, growing increasingly immersed in the minutia. In one precise instance, the player is forced to achieve some immersion, in that they must control five distinct warchiefs simultaneously. Crucially, though, the developers do not always force the nemesis system upon the playerbase; they can reject or embrace it in turn. This freedom and regard for the players is admirable indeed; the player is empowered. A bit of added guidance, though, would increase the system’s accessibility and consequently its allure, effectiveness.  

Save for the nemesis system and some masterful displays of world-building, Shadow of Mordor generally shows a poverty of originality. Most obviously, the developers at Monolith relied upon the Arkham series and the earlier Assassin’s Creed games for inspiration. Fair enough. Some alterations were executed, certainly – combat here certainly eclipses in enjoyability an Arkham Asylum, an Arkham City. But even with this general excellence, one can’t help but yearn for greater originality. Genre matters, though. Shadow of Mordor is unabashedly a conventional open-world experience, featuring two distinct maps of average scale yet fair diversity. But whereas so many open-world games then and now embrace bloatedness, out of some misguided developer notion that a larger game is inherently a better game, this title actually rejects bloatedness. Side content has its presence, certainly – there are executable missions for liberated slaves, missions which vaguely strengthen sword, dagger, bow, and all, while a litany of various collectables also have their place. But whereas any given open-world game might take a hundred hours to 100 % – or one hundred hours merely to reach the proper conclusion – this game is entirely, fully completable in less than forty – a wonderful sense of focus and concision is achieved, and this lessened time investment makes 100 % completion tangible and appealing, rejecting the more intimidating attributes thriving in present open-world titles. Still, the narrative suffers in its overreaching. Talion and Celebrimbor ensure the narrative does not entirely devolve into the mundane or nonsensical – their presence saves the narrative from disaster. But two profound and endearing characters, one an everyman another elevated above the everyman, cannot salvage an entire narrative; flaws, terrible flaws, ultimately predominate, and Shadow of Mordor’s narrative, characterized always by excessive ambition, is absolutely its greatest failing. And cleverly, many conventional RPG mechanics are implemented here, imparting depth and instilling slowness, presumably to counter the bombasticness and intensity characterizing open combat. Shadow of Mordor is no RPG – far from it. And yet, the role-playing game impulse runs throughout, the player kept in a state of perpetual excitement, many of the purchasable skills abounding in allure, intrigue. World-design is also defined by alluringness; Udun and the Sea of Nurnen both are dazzling in their beauty, and one need have no knowledge of Tolkien’s mythologies to derive enjoyment from the title. Tolkien devotees might derive added enjoyment, though again – knowledge is no prerequisite. Ultimately, rich lore or no, the title isn’t swelling in memorability – the narrative is forgettable. But moment to moment greatness absolutely has its place, compensating for overarching narrative failure. One will not remember the precise details of Talion ‘s journey or Celebrimbor’s journey. Instead, they will remember some skirmish with an especially brutal and resilient uruk, frequently a source of intense menace, dispatched only with fair excursion. Indeed, it is within the moment-to-moment where the game most excels – exploring the world, even with its relative vacancy, is a major source of pleasure. Growing immersed in this fantastical world and obtaining familiarity with the complex nemesis system – these together mark the game’s greatest instances of enjoyability, characteristically abundant.