02/04/2019

RPG Wisdom


I've never been one to vehemently defend my passion for gaming, claiming that it helps keep the brain active and trained, that it's a great way to make friends or that it's a piece of culture waiting to be fully acknowledged. As a lone gamer who started performing the deed in the early '90s when consoles were mere disposable toys, I smile somewhat mockingly at the last two assumptions; as for the first one, while I actually deem it fully valid, this is not something I would ever bandy around to justify my gaming habits. Not that I really need to, mind you: most of the time, I just follow my merry gaming way in the shadows, dodging nosy questions and avoiding justifications of any sort. But I digress, dear fellow gamers: what I wanted to say is that while I don't go around making lofty claims about gaming's supposed merits, I still got pretty nifty life lessons out of it — without ever really wanting to or trying, which makes the process even more glorious. The Holy Realm of RPG in particular has been exceedingly prodigal with teachings, showing me through telltale examples the wholesomeness of a number of virtues.

Diligence and Patience: Let's roll all the way back to 2012: I had just started my solo run of Dragon Quest IX, and I was poring over forums to garner useful tips. That's where I learnt about King Metal Slimes, those near-mythical creatures that could grant you XP by the truckload and lounged deep in post-games dungeons. Having barely cleared the first dungeon at the time, I despaired of ever reaching such impossibly powerful beasts; and yet, 150 hours later, I was roaming Grottos and one-shooting those silvery royals like it was going out of fashion. That particular case taught me in the most striking way that no matter how lofty and unreachable a goal seems at first sight, it can always be achieved if one takes the necessary time to do so. Since then, countless RPGs have confirmed that defining lesson in various ways. That Lv.99 frontier that seems so faraway when the MC is a puny Lv.1? Gimme hundreds of random battles, and I'll sure get there. Those thousand square meters of dungeons that must be cleared before reaching the final boss? Gimme a few dozens of hours, and I'll sure do the deed.

Endurance and Fortitude: We can all agree that RPGs are sometimes a royal pain in the arse: insanely high random encounter rates, nasty cheated bosses, fake difficulty up the wazoo, obnoxious dungeon design — you name it. I sometimes find myself disheartened by all those obstructions and despairing of ever reaching the final boss, let alone beating it; yet somehow, I always manage to do so in the end. RPG hurdles teach me time and time again me to be perseverant: if I dutifully soldier through them, I'll reach my goal eventually and succeed. I had countless masters in that department, too many to count actually; however, two of them stands out amongst others. The first is Astonishia Story, a game that made my crew weak by design and threw at me an insanely hard final boss; the second is The Legend of Legacy, a game loaded with spike difficulties and unscrutables rules. Those two made me toil like crazy; and yet, I ultimately triumphed and conquered them, learning the value of endurance and fortitude in the most satisfying and rewarding way as I did so.

Thriftiness and Good Resource Management: To be fair, I was thrifty long before I started playing RPGs in earnest; however, there's no denying that the genre drove the point home in the smartest and most efficient way. Whether it be skill points or good ol' monies, resources must be managed cleverly if one wants to get by in an RPG; and saving, sparing and compromising are part and parcel of such good resource management. Should I get that skill or the other? Should I save money for that awesome piece of gear, or use my current funds to buy several inferior ones? Should I grind for currency to get everything I want, or renounce some things? Should I use my MP for one devastating attack or several small ones? And we all know about that awesome multi-healing item that begs to be saved for boss battles. All RPGs offer such dilemmas; however, Final Fantasy Legend II boasts one of the most stringent resource management out there, with its limited inventory space, limited weapon use, limited currency, limited pretty much everything; when you've survived such a giant frugality fest, you can pretty much adapt smoothly to any budget limitation IRL.

Adaptability and resiliency: We all know about that Wake-up Call Boss; the one that made our best-honed strategies null and void in a matter of turns and send us scurrying away in shame — if it doesn't one-shoot our whole party, that is. Yet we also know that with the right combination of grinding, strategies, items, gear and luck, that seemingly impassable boss will ultimately bow to us and let us progress unhindered. I always try to remember such Wake-up Call bosses when the going gets rough and I'm tempted to give up a bit too fast in real life; and instead of doing so, I try to find a new approach and I go back at it with a vengeance, until I finally triumph. Heck, I would never ever have finished a single RPG if I ran away with my tail between my legs every time I encountered a tough nasty; and I sure won't achieve anything worthwhile if I allow myself to do so IRL. Now obviously, sometimes I still ultimately give up on arduous tasks for various reasons; but in that case, I have no regrets, because I know in my heart of hearts that I did try my hardest. Just like when I tried to complete those postgame dungeons in Shiren, Explorers of Sky and Dungeon Travelers 2 and finally gave up because the effort/reward ratio was way too skewed in favour of the former.

Independence and Autonomy: Last but not least, RPGs taught me to play it my way. Whether you rely on brute force or refined strategies, whether you're a hoarder or a serial seller when it comes to inventory, whether you're all about physical attacks or elemental spells, whether you're in for the grinding or the sightseeing, the vast majority of RPGs out there will give you enough leeway to indulge in your very own penchants and fetishes — and so does life as a whole. The most glorious display of such autonomy as far as my gaming career is concerned are obviously my many Pokemon solo runs. Such runs are so at odds with the series' core concept that it hurts; yet they function beautifully nonetheless, and that alone is enough to convince me that most real-life situations can be approached from original angles and bent to my iron will. 

There you have it, dear fellow gamers: the lessons I got from my favourite genre under the gaming sun, and the virtues countless RPGs taught me to cultivate. Feel free to share your own personal lessons from games in the comment section; and as usual, thanks a million for reading, and drop by anytime!

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