14/02/2015

Shiren the Wanderer (2): Getting into the right mindset



Shiren the Wanderer has been on the back burner for an awful lot of time, and would probably still be there if not for my recent completion of Sorcery Saga. Beating that game gave me a boost of self-confidence in the rogueliking department and prompted me to pick up Shiren again and try my hardest to clear it once and for all. It’s not even like I dropped it because I was bored or sick of it: I just put it down one day to concentrate on another game that I was playing at the time, and somehow forgot it completely. But I am still in love with it and with roguelikes in general, and Sorcery Saga rekindled that flame, which is now burning brighter and hotter than ever.   

The trick is to keep trying

That is not to say that everything went fine and dandy—o no, precious. I may have cleared Sorcery Saga with a minimal amount of struggling, but Shiren is an entirely different beast. Unlike Sorcery Saga, Shiren is not the slightest bit forgiving, as I painfully rediscovered when I dove back into it. 

Things started rather auspiciously, as strange as it may seem. I had left the game in the middle of an equipment upgrading marathon, and my first decision was to clear said marathon in order to reacquaint myself with the game and give myself as good an edge as possible over the perils that lay ahead. When I was done with the deed, my Mastersword boasted a hefty Lv.60 and my Armor Ward a solid Lv.27; and thus, armed with a couple of Riceballs and Staves, I forged ahead with a dizzying feeling of anticipation. And amazingly enough, my strategy seemed to pay off: I reached the ultimate floor without being hindered and found myself facing the last boss. The last boss, people! I was nearly there! Unfortunately, I made the fatal mistake of focusing solely on that mighty foe while ignoring the rest of the monsters. That was most uninspired, as a Skull Wraith was part of that crew: the abomination swung his staff at me twice, first Sealing me and then Slowing me Down. The effects were absolutely disastrous: I couldn’t use my items because of the Seal, and I could neither run away nor strike because of the Slowness. In the meantime, monsters had ganged up on me and were hitting me mercilessly; and there was nothing I could do but sit and watch powerlessly as hours of toiling were reduced to mere dust in a couple of seconds. When the last blow fell and I was sent back empty-handed to Canyon Hamlet, I was absolutely crestfallen—so much so that I could nearly feel unshed tears of disappointment stinging the corners of my eyes. I closed the DS, shook my head, and told myself that this was it. I was going to give up. There was no way I could get back on my feet after such a soul-shattering defeat.

Of course, I’m making this more dramatic than it really was. Upgrading my equipment was actually a fun process, and I enjoyed every minute of it; why else would I have raised my Mastersword’s level to its maximum? My defeat was heart-wrenching, that much is undeniable; but hardly ten minutes later, I was already strategizing my next moves and plotting my revenge against the game. My second attempt at tackling Table Mountain was much more focused and streamlined, because I knew exactly where I was headed and what I had to do in order to get there: and thus, it took me only a short time to upgrade my sword and shield (to Lv.25 and Lv. 14 respectively) before I headed for Table Mountain again, full of poise and confidence. Everything went fine… That is, until I was transformed into a Riceball by a Skull Wraith—a Skull Wraith, AGAIN!—and killed in two hits. Back to Canyon Hamlet again, and goodbye to my precious equipment again. This defeat was not as dismaying as the first one, however; instead, it had a decidedly irking flavour, because it showed plainly that I was not learning from my mistakes and that the inner logic of the game was still eluding me somehow.

The wrong and the right

Indeed, it would be easy and convenient to blame these two demises on bad luck, but I feel that there is definitely more to it; and after a bit of analysis, I think I managed to pinpoint the main reason for my failures. And that reason is quite simple: I unconsciously approach Shiren as a 16-bit Action-RPG and play it accordingly. This misconception is fueled by the game’s decidedly retro looks and by the fact that all things fighting take place directly on the field; and it has some dramatic consequences, as it warps my thinking and urges me to play in a way that is detrimental to my progression. Here is the unfitting course of action that this misconception prompts me to follow, conveniently broken down in subsections:

—Thy sword is thy life: Not only do I rely nearly exclusively on my sword to eradicate enemies, but I also have this irrepressible impulse to lash at everything in sight with it. This prompts me to get close to enemies that I should rather run away from or dispose of from a safe distance, with very unpleasant consequences. This ram-like way of crawling stubbornly towards enemies and slashing them obstinately while enduring hits is tolerable in the early stages of the game, when you only run the risk of taking a couple of arrows from a Bowboy, having an item transformed into a Riceball by a Rice Changer or seeing your Gitans licked away by a Pickpocket; however, it can be absolutely deadly in the late stages, as my experience abundantly shows. My second demise can be blamed entirely on that persistent desire of mine to slash monsters at close range: I was standing a square away from the exit when the Skull Wraith appeared, and given our respective positions, I could have left the floor or disposed of the filthy creature before it swung its staff at me. Instead, I foolishly succumbed to my Action-RPG instincts and moved closer to the Wraith in order to slice it in two—and the rest is dreadful history.  

—Forsaken items: As a consequence of that unwavering focus on sword fighting, I nearly never use Staves or Scrolls to dispose of enemies. They lie forgotten in a corner of my inventory instead of being put to good use, which is both a pity and a shame. These repeated omissions are all the more galling as my two demises occurred while I was sitting on a pile of Staves and Scrolls that could undoubtedly have saved the day if I had used at the right time. Which leads us to…

—The lost strategies: I resort to strategic thinking only when I am totally cornered—which, of course, is usually way too late to make any difference. The rest of the time, I move forward with the grace of a bull and never bother to anticipate anything, let alone to tread carefully while looking around for danger. I do not take the time to survey and analyze situations in order to determine the best course of action, preferring instead to swing my sword senselessly at anything in range. This was the main reason for my first demise, which could easily have been avoided if I had taken some time to ponder possibilities instead of going straight for the boss’ throat. 

Now that I have identified the underlying causes of my failures, I can plan a new course of action that will hopefully lead me to success. The outlines are quite simple, really: less speed, less sword-slashing, more strategizing and more deliberate moves. Dispose of Skull Wraiths on sight. I’m also thinking of storing a couple of Light Scrolls in order to make the last floors easier to navigate and getting my hands on a Storehouse Jar in order to save my equipment in case of an imminent defeat. Last but not least, I am pondering the possibility of exploring only two or three floors at a time with the most extreme concentration instead of trying to clear the 15-floor stretch between Cryptic Rock Valley and the Waterfall Cave in one shot. At any rate, I will soldier on. Shiren’s challenging nature has stirred my usually dormant competitive streak, and from now on, it’s a death match between me and the game. 

The sunny side of defeat  

To be honest, these two defeats, for all the dismay they inflicted upon me, also had some positive effects. The most prominent one was that they somehow demystified the last floors. Up until then, I had hardly dared venture past Cryptic Rock Valley—which I didn’t manage to reach so often in the first place; as a result, the second half of the game was deeply shrouded in mystery and became all the more intimidating. I must admit that I nearly became reluctant to forge ahead, which led me to bouts of procrastination —carefully concealed under the pretense of needing to upgrade my equipment just a trifle more or to collect just an extra handful of items. Fortunately, I don’t need to fear those ominous late floors anymore: exploring them at long last, be it to my demise, made them suddenly feel much more mundane and accessible. I’ve been through the fire and got burnt, but I’m not afraid anymore, and these floors are no longer out of my mental reach, which feels incredibly rewarding.

On a more practical note, these two failed attempts at tackling Table Mountain also taught me that it is not necessary to go overboard as far as upgrading is concerned. The best weapons and shields can be raised up to Lv. 60, but there is no need to go that high: a solid Lv. 20 is more than enough for both sword and shield. I’ve even read that Lv. 10-12 could pass, so maybe I will stick to these lower levels for my next attempt. Why work more when you can work less? Given how tedious is can be to upgrade shields, lower level requirements would be a true blessing indeed.

Last but not least, and on a more personal note, I have to admit that it would have been a tad disappointing to clear the game on my first real attempt. This would have created a very unbalanced gaming experience made of long hours of preparation followed by a short dash towards the end, which would have been anything but fulfilling. I’d rather have things the way they are, and I consider my numerous hours of toiling in Shiren as a necessary introduction to the roguelike genre—all the more so as these hours were deeply entertaining, as I mentioned earlier. And there’s no doubt that my future victory will be all the sweetest after a couple of resounding failures. 

 And so, I keep on walking. My wandering days are not over, and there’s no telling when it will be the case; however, you can expect a third post that will wrap up that most amazing gaming experience of going through the highs and lows of Shiren the Wanderer. For now, I’m putting my getas on again for yet another climb. Jā mata ne! Thanks for reading, and be my guest anytime!

2 comments:

  1. Go! Fight! Fantastic! I've given up on beating Table Mountain (plus the first Shiren is a little boring compared to other roguelikes I've played) so I look forward to finishing the game vicariously through you. Ganbatte ne!

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    1. Thanks! There's no way I can give up now: my gamer's honour is at stake! plus, I'm having way too good a time to even consider stopping.^^

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