Just as a heads up, I will be on vacation next week. I will resume IFComp reviews after then.
Archive for the ‘Interactive Fiction’ Category
Quick general update 4 comments
IFComp 2017: Unit 322 (Disambiguation) 10 comments
By Jonny Muir. Played to completion on iPhone.

Here are some facts about this game:
- It advertises itself as “A mystery told entirely through the pages of an online encyclopedia.”
- That’s not entirely truthful. There’s something else going on here.
- You start on a mock-Wikipedia launch screen, as shown above. The links only go a couple deep, but the important thing to note is the pages are not always the same.
- The writing is skillful and the majority has Wikipedia’s “even-handed neutral” tone which makes creepy events sound creepier. It’s akin to someone playing the “straight man” in comedy.
- The themes of the game are desperation, unethical experimentation, and mind control.
- None of the characters felt cardboard, exactly, but perhaps a little too much detail about motivation was elided. I’m not sure if there’s a way to remedy this but maintain the same format; it might just be one of those necessary flaws.
- The arc ends up being perhaps a little too familiar, but even if you see the ending coming (as I did) it’s still enjoyable to see the payoff.
Subjects were administered psychedelic drugs (such as LSD) to place them in a receptive mental state. They would then be subjected to various combinations of sound and imagery containing subliminal messages intended to directly target and stimulate parts of the brains repsonsible for various motor functions. These might often be no more than repeated 30 second loops of music or imagery.
Why do people do the things that they do not want to do? How can you push a man to act against his own best interests? This has been a fundamental enquiry in our research, and has been the focus of many of our experiments. Fortunately, our circumstances afford us as many test subjects as we need.

IFComp 2017: Ultimate Escape Room: IF City 1 comment
By Mark Stahl. Completed on desktop using Gargoyle.
Escape rooms — the real life physical spaces where the players try to solve puzzles to escape — were inspired mostly by the genre of Flash game that popped up in the early 2000s.
The premise of this game is that you’re in a real-life escape room, so what we have is a electronic game inspired by a physical game inspired by an electronic game. Whoa.

This is a meme from a community group about a game named after the meme.
Ever since visiting that escape room in the Tampa area, you’ve become obsessed with real life “escape the room” games. Normally, you would have brought as many friends with you as possible, but no one was available today so you’re going it alone. And now your task begins; to find your way out of “The Wizard’s Rainbow”, as it’s called. Looking at your surroundings, the first thing that you notice is that…
White Room
Everything appears white; the floor, the ceiling, and the walls. There do not appear to be any exits, but you’re not so sure.You can see a white chair here.
The rooms are roughly as minimalist as the ones in The Richard Mines, but with the important exceptions that
a.) in the fiction of the world — a multi-room “escape room” — the minimalism makes sense
and
b.) the world is still “dense” and each room serves a purpose.
The premise makes the random room layout feel reasonable, and also gives an excuse for the author to pull out the old SEARCH / LOOK UNDER / LOOK BEHIND style verbs. Not everything is coded as solidly as it could be — for instance, I softlocked the game once by putting a blank paper on a table, at which point it existed and didn’t exist at the same time — but I was still able to get to the end without too much trouble.
The ending is a bit of a gag, which suggests to me there wasn’t enough meat to the plot to begin with. You do the escape room alone: a far more compelling game might have had people with you. I realize this makes for a much trickier coding proposition.
IFComp 2017: The Richard Mines 5 comments
By Evan C. Wright. Played to completion on desktop using Windows Frotz.
There was a time when computer games needed to give most of their context outside their game, because there just wasn’t enough space on the computers at the time. Games like Temple of Asphai (1979) even included a great deal of the text from the game itself in the manual, again for technical space reasons.
Such technical excuses no longer exist. This is how The Richard Mines starts:
Forest
This is a dense forest which extends in all directions. To the north the trees appear to thin.
Now, this isn’t a game where things get slowly revealed – that is all the context you get. If it wasn’t for the blurb, it’d be unclear where the game is even set:
Czechoslovakia, 1949. Though World War Two has been over for several years, rumors of underground German factories still persist. No one has found found yet, until now…
“Exploring an abandoned German factory” isn’t bad as far as premises go, but pulling it off requires some killer atmosphere. This game has minimalist room descriptions, and as far as I can tell there are very few verbs outside the ones needed to solve puzzles that work.
Engine Works
This is a huge chamber carved out of the native limestone. Rusting engine blocks in various states of completion, sit on test stands. The cavern continues north and there is an exit to the south.>x blocks
You can’t see any such thing.>x stands
The engines are large, twelve cylinder motors, probably intended for use in armored vehicles.>n
Repair Stations
This end of the north end of a cavernous undergroud chamber. There are several work benches here.>get all
There are none at all available!>search benches
You find nothing of interest.
The “undergroud” typo is in the game. There’s also some comma abuse elsewhere (“A rusting, barbed wire fence, blocks the way north” should only have the first comma) but I want to focus the rest of my time here on one of the puzzles. This will enter spoiler territory.

Image here for spoiler space. This is a picture of one of the Richard mines, via Wikimapia.
Here’s a long clip:
>sw
Radio Works
This is a large chamber, formerly dedicated to the production of radio tubes. The only exit is to the northeast.A small, wooden crate occupies the center of the chamber.
>x crate
Stenciling on the side reads: “Inhalt: Schatz. Nicht fallen lassen.”>push crate
Nothing obvious happens.>pull crate
Nothing obvious happens.>break crate
Temper, temper.>i
You are carrying:
a cigarette lighter
a paperclip
a wrench
a pair of gloves (being worn)
a pile of leaves
a discarded flashlight (providing light)>open crate with wrench
That doesn’t seem to be something you can unlock.>pry crate with wrench
That’s not a verb I recognise.>hit crate with wrench
I only understood you as far as wanting to hit the wooden crate.>open crate
It is firmly nailed shut.>get nails
You can’t see any such thing.>get nail
You can’t see any such thing.>pry crate
That’s not a verb I recognise.
Grr, no! All of these actions are totally reasonable to try. There might be some sort of rejection why they don’t work, but this kind of parser responsiveness just doesn’t work in a 2017 game. If any action might plausibly be tried to attempt a puzzle, it should give a message.
In any case, “nicht fallen lassen” means “do not drop” so the appopriate action is to take the crate to the top of a tall ladder and drop it.
>drop crate
The crate falls to bottom of the shaft, with a loud splintering sound.
This is overall a good concept! But the execution is as important as the idea, and the player should be able to get a hint from other acts stronger than a message (that they might not be able to read without outside help) in German. I should add there is a problem in all this of scale – the crate gives the impression of being largish, so how does one climb a ladder while holding it?
Just as an extra kick, the end of the game features some guessing of the verb.
>open bolts
It isn’t something you can open.>unscrew bolts
It is fixed in place.>turn bolts
It is fixed in place.>wrench bolts
That’s not a verb I recognise.>pry bolts
That’s not a verb I recognise.>turn bolts
It is fixed in place.>get bolts
That’s hardly portable.
More serious writing and a stronger sense of history might have made this game work; as is, it’s not recommended.
IFComp 2017: Queer In Public: A Brief Essay 2 comments
By Naomi Norbez. Read on iPhone.
This is subtitled “A hypertext essay about the Christian & LGBT community”.
Entering a non-fiction essay into a fiction competition was probably not a good idea. Entering something with writing clearly targeted at Christians into a general international competition also will not have desired results. (The essay is pretty readable even for non-Christians, but there are some references that will likely be confusing. Just be warned the direct address at Christians also brings a vague undercurrent of proselytizing, even if it’s unintentional.)
I have enough religious studies chops I’ll go ahead and review this like it was an essay in an essay contest for Christians, although I’ll mention to the author to please don’t be surprised at potential low ratings and/or puzzled reviews.

Also, I’m probably not qualified to review an essay anyway; I’ve never done it before. To simplify matters, let me focus on: Would it be convincing for the target audience — Christians who are skeptical of modern gender/sex issues?
The essay begins with the author’s childhood descent into pathological lying, followed by finding God. How I Became a Christian is a common narrative to start with, because it builds empathy. The writing throughout is clear and never condescending. The basic point is phrased in a way that should resonate:
Fellow Christians, let that sink in: The church is starving people of God’s truth because of its discomfort. It’s no surprise people leave the church because of this. No one wants to be starving of hope. If the church won’t give them answers, they’ll find them somewhere else.
There’s also a basic point about “holy” just meaning “set aside for special purpose” and how single-ness should be considered just as fine as being married, although I feel like something got muddled here by seeming to imply all non-binary people will not get married. (I must have read that wrong, but if you imagine the reader from the perspective of doing everything possible to stick with their original beliefs, there’s too much of an “out” here to just assume trans and gay people will be celibate.)
I don’t think it quite does enough for skeptics in one important point: scripture citation. Most Christians that treat scripture loosely are already with the author’s side, so the audience here is really the ones who consider the Bible an unimpeachable holy book. The essay mentions biblical passages (Genesis 19, Leviticus 18:22, Leviticus 20:13, Romans 1:26-27, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, and 1 Timothy 1:10) and hints at how people differ in interpretation, but never gets explicit, instead deferring to another writer. I think it’s safe to say your skeptics will not go out of their way to read a second essay on this sort of topic, so you should at least include a hook. Pick just one of the passages and go into detail like the other author does, enough to convey the impression that yes, things can be read differently, or least mention the hermeneutical question — that a law in the Bible does not necessarily apply to today, and there are many Old Testament laws that do not get followed even by strict biblical literalists.
IFComp 2017: Harmonia 5 comments
By Liza Daly. Completed using iPhone. Played to one ending.

Harmonia is set in a small college in northeast Massachusetts, where the main character, Abby Fuller, is invited as a “substitute” for a missing professor. The professor’s disappearance turns out to be a deeper enigma than expected. I would call this an “academic thriller” halfway between a raid-the-classics mystery like The Dante Club and a conspiracy story like Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore.
This is a “light interactive” style design where the only interaction is clicking underlined links. There are some definite decision points (including a major one near the end) but there’s a lot of straight reading in between. The text includes “footnotes” which pop up side text. There’s also lots of passages from journals and books. (The image below shows both; I had to click on “Looking Backwards” for the side text to appear.)

This was excellent! I enjoyed it nearly as much as the author’s prior work (Stone Harbor) although I felt like the characters were weaker in this one. The main character in Stone Harbor had layers of depth that fed into the plot, but Abby Fuller keeps the reader more at arm’s length — even though this story is written in the first-person. (Specific example: a character guesses where Abby’s from, and she responds it is something like that, but is clearly nervous to admit it. Nothing more comes of the interaction. There’s some general class-tension issues, but the idea never gets past “I had to work hard in state schools to get where I am”.) The side characters are also only vaguely sketched in, and one plot point (involving keys) made me go “wait, who is that?” on a character the game assumed I knew. The only thing I remember about the missing professor (the main McGuffin in all this) is that Abby thinks his gender views are slightly off.
One definite plus (for me, anyway) was the large number of 19th century authors quoted. If you can keep the fictional material separate, you can learn about late 19th century utopian movements and speculative fiction from playing this. The author estimated an hour of playtime but I actually took two because I spent my time poring over the historical excerpts.
A nitpick about the choice-points: because there’s quite a few footnotes and there’s no reason to avoid reading them all, it’s easy to blunder into a choice without realizing. It would be very helpful if there was some difference between the two kinds of click. It wouldn’t be too hard to make the footnotes single-underline and the choices double-underline, or something of that nature.
I am certain there are at least two endings, but I only played to one; this is the sort of story where I felt like I had to make my choice and stick with it no matter the consequences, as opposed to exploring the whole story tree.
IFComp 2017: On the Eve of Many Many (Many) Entries to Play 2 comments

I wrote about IFComp in my last post. One popular game amongst followers of the IFComp is the “how many entries will it have this year” game.
It’s definitely more than 60 this year, which would make it the largest ever, as this blog post indicates:
When we wrote up the prize chart, we estimated there would be 60 entries. The actual number isn’t final yet — wait until Sunday! — but it’s safe to say that it’s higher than 60.
However, given last year had 58 entries (technically 60 at the start, 2 were disqualified), there are strong hints from this tweet (and elsewhere) the number may be much higher:
I’m not announcing the final entry-count before Sunday, but *very leaning into microphone voice* we’re gonna need more judges.
— IFComp (@ifcomp) September 29, 2017
In the early days of IFComp, most people played every game and then posted their reviews on the rec.games.int-fiction newsgroup. Then came the year 2000, which saw a jump from 37 entries to 53, and reviewing everything got a lot harder. A fair number of people still did it, although the standard for most people what constituted a review was relatively short. (Paul O’Brian being a notable exception.)
In a way, the act of completion helps finish the the playing and reviewing in the first place. For the last 10 or so of my reviews from 2015 (53 entries) I started to feel the pain, but there were only! 10! more! and then only! 9! more! and etc.
Supposing the number is at, say, 100, the completionist approach just doesn’t work any more. What’s the best approach, then?
1. Randomize the list of games, pick the top 15 (or some other small fixed number) and stop. No rush, no pressure.
2. Randomize the list of games, start from the top, and keep going until time runs out. This is what I did last year and is still no pressure for a certain mentality.
3. Play everything, but only pick a couple highlights to write about. (This is typically what I see in the larger itch.io gamejams.)
4. Play everything, but make very short comments on each rather than longish paragraphs or essays.
5. Play what looks good from browsing the blurbs, and only review those games.
6. Team up with one or more people to split up the list (that idea was brought up here).
7. Stock up on high-energy drinks and skip sleeping for two months.
Any comments / suggestions / votes on what you think I should do?
IFComp 2017: From the Starting Line 6 comments
Long-time followers will note that I have reviewed multiple years of the Interactive Fiction Competition:
IFComp 2016 reviews (only 10 of them)
IFComp 2015 reviews (all entries)
IFComp 2014 reviews (all entries)
IFComp 2007 reviews (all entries)

Last year’s winner was Detectiveland by Robin Johnson.
Q: What is IFComp?
The Interactive Fiction Competition is a yearly event held since 1995 for short interactive fiction works (generally, 2 hours of playing time or less; there’s no strict rule about this, but the judges are supposed to make their rating after 2 hours). Authors can enter as many as three works. There is no entry fee.
The works are released on October 1st, and judges (anyone interested who isn’t a participant) have until November 15th to vote on them using a scale from 1 to 10. Judges must rate at least five entries for their votes to count.
Q: Is this a text adventure only thing?
It started with text adventures, but there’s no requirement, and in recent years only a little less than half of the entries had a “parser” of some sort.
Q: Are you going to write reviews again?
Some. I doubt I’ll ever have another year where I can review every entry. The numbers haven’t come out for this year yet, but there likely will be over 50 of them. I aim to review more than 10 this time.
Q: Will All the Adventures be on hold during the competition?
I’ve got something that might make a surprise appearance near the middle. IFComp will likely eat most of my writing energy, though.
Q: I’m an author! Could I ask you more about a review you wrote?
A: You can find my contact info on the About tab.
Q: I’m excited! What should I do while I wait?
This has absolutely nothing to do with IFComp, but enjoy this reading by Sam Kabo Ashwell of Sherwin Tjia’s Pick a Plot Book 2: You Are a Cat in the Zombie Apocalypse!
In all seriousness, feel free to comment to this post if you want; I’ve heard very little discussion coming up to IFComp this year, and I’m frankly wondering where everyone went. If you’re going to be a judge, what do you predict you’ll see this year? If you’re an author, post if you’re nervous, and I will find a funny cat video for you.
Odyssey #1, Damsel in Distress (1980) 5 comments
Back in the 1979s when I was writing about Joel Mick’s Burial Ground Adventure I found a scroll in the game:
BUY JOEL MICK’S NEXT ADVENTURE – DAMSEL IN DISTRESS – AVAILABLE SOON
The “next adventure” was part of a trilogy. Unfortunately, the game (and the other two) was nowhere to be found on any of the usual TRS-80 archives. (There was a number after the message above to call — it’s possible it was only available at the time by direct mail.) After my blog post here, I received a helpful email from a “John Doe” who happened to have snagged copies from a now-defunct website, and uploaded them to if-archive on my suggestion. They should now (hopefully!) be available forever.
I just wanted to point out how much of a near miss this was: the original files themselves were copied by a “David J. Cooper” off a mysterious disk titled “DD Games 20” in 2009, which was thankfully still intact. Then, John Doe had to have saved copies when the archive they were on went under, and then he had to care enough to want to pass them on.

Odyssey #1, Damsel in Distress is credited to Joel Mick and Jeffrey M. Richter, while the other two games (Treasure Island and Journey Through Time) have James Taranto as a co-author instead. I don’t know the story there; perhaps they helped with the coding, because while Burial Ground Adventure was in BASIC, the Odyssey trilogy is in native machine code.
Damsel in Distress opens quite strangely: you’re in a tavern with a sword and bottle, and a royal messenger walks in.
I assumed this was a “you are approached by a stranger with a quest” type setup, but nothing happens: the royal messenger just sits there. Any attempt to >TALK or otherwise communicate failed. I had to >KILL MESSENGER to get something to happen, upon which I found a scroll.

So…. I guess killing the messenger was ok? The lack of communication verbs structurally suggested the direction the plot needed to move (a bit like how Quondam lacked the verb UNLOCK suggesting a key was of a certain type). This is sort of a “motivation media res”; it’s fairly clear the character had some idea of what was going on enough to randomly murder someone, and the player catches up along the way.
A rescue mission! Not a terribly complicated one, as it turns out, although there was one early puzzle that stumped me enough I had to stop playing for a while. While away from playing, a solution occured to me; back at the computer, I tried to implement it and it worked. (If you want to avoid spoiling the puzzle for some reason, avert your eyes from the next screenshot.)
It’s been a while since I’ve done a solve off the computer. It’s one of the things I enjoy most about adventure games, but the early-era ones often rely on in-game experimentation in a way that just stopping and thinking isn’t quite enough to solve a tricky puzzle.

After the curious opening (which I won’t say is good or bad, but it made me think) and the actually-decent puzzle, I am sad to say the rest of the game was perfectly ordinary. There’s a castle you explore; down below there is a dungeon with a prisoner.

The prisoner informs you of a secret passage (but you don’t get to rescue them, sorry prisoner!) and in the secret passage you find the titular damsel which you can carry out of the castle. There is no opposition from guards when leaving; in fact, other than those two people there’s nobody in the castle at all. The only danger comes from setting down the damsel too early:

Fortunately you have a shack in the woods where you can find safety (?!) and win the game.

OK, fair, this wasn’t great. But: it’s easy to take for granted I’m able to get to these games, but often it’s luck they’re available at all. I don’t think my time spent was valueless; the startling opening in particular is of theoretical value, and no matter the quality the game is a piece of history.
I want to thank all of the archivists and obsessive collectors who make my writing possible.

Misadventure, Star Cruiser, Jailbreak (1980) 1 comment
In the era of adventure games we’ve seen, they’ve been in one of three categories:
1.) Commercial releases, on disk or tape.
2.) Source code printed in magazines (“type-ins”).
3.) On large mainframes, meant to be played by those who could access the games, but were not released in a method accessible to the general public.
Quite often these meshed together, with a mainframe release being pared down and sold on home systems, or games released both in source code and tape format. There’s a fourth category that hasn’t come up yet.
4.) Private games, meant to be played by a small audience (possibly just friends and family, possibly just the author themselves), without distribution.
And even if we don’t or can’t do this all the time, writing some games for friends helps – well, at least, it helps me – resolve some of the false market-vs-art dichotomy. The things that we make don’t have to be only for ourselves or only for someone else: they can be both. They can be honest and still accommodate someone else’s truth.
— Emily Short, “Private Games”
Games in category #4 tends not be studied or written about for the obvious reason that by definition the public (and historians) don’t have access. While there is a wealth of diaries and letters from the past (the non-interactive equivalent of private games) the ephemeral nature of digital media means most private games are destined for oblivion.
The only catch might be if someone wrote a private body of work, but decided 30 years later to dig it out and let the Internet have a go. In other words, they might be Roger M. Wilcox and his collection of 21 adventure games, written between 1980 and 1983.
He considers his seventh adventure (The Vial of Doom) to be his first “good” adventure game. His early works give more of a feel of just noodling around and learning how to design. They’re also fairly short, so I’ve packaged together Adventures #1 through #3 in this post.
Misadventure
The scientists of your time have developed a time machine, with which to travel any place on Earth, at any time. However, they have not perfected a way to get you back, unless you are above ground. They have you aimed for a small underground cavern, and have armed you with a light source. Your mission is to find as much medieval material as possible (they have the time machine set for 1223 A.D.), and probably bring back your own treasure as well.
To move about, use the directions NORTH, SOUTH, EAST, and WEST (N, S, E, and W will suffice) and/or GO. To pick up something, say GET, TAKE, or .; to put it down say DROP, PUT, or P.
The transporting time machine is ready, you enter, and disappear!
You are in a damp, dusty 3-way intersection.
Passages lead: North South East
Grab stuff, bust past simple obstacles, survive. It took me roughly 10 minutes to finish. There’s insect repellent in one room guarded by a dwarf (more on him in a second). There’s a spider that you can drive away with the repellent; it was guarding a “snake-bite kit”. There’s a snake you can drive away with the kit. Then there’s a giant you can shoot with a phaser (?).

This is from the author’s port for 32-bit Windows. The original TRS-80 files are only available for some of the games.
The dwarf, in addition to being codged off Adventure, has an awkward issue with the random number generator.
You’re in the “small room.”
There is a threatening little dwarf in the room with you!
There is some insect repellent spray here.
Passages lead: South East WestThe dwarf takes a swing at you!
The blow missed you completely!
Here’s the problem: there’s a strong chance upon just entering the room the dwarf will (randomly) hit and kill you. There’s armor in another room that slightly reduces the possibility (the dwarf will sometimes hit the armor) but essentially this is a situation where death can come by random chance in a way the player has literally no control over.
I rebooted the game about 6 times until I made it through the dwarf. If anything in this game felt like a rookie mistake, this was it.
There is one “actual” puzzle to the game:
This room is called “magic central.”
Written randomly about it are the letters “X”, “Q”, and “Y”.>XQY
Nothing happens. Don’t forget, the letters may not necessarily belong in the order they appeared.>XYQ
Nothing happens>QYX
I don’t know how to “QYX” something.
It essentially gives away its only puzzle-aspect right away, it’s still good to note, since any sort of threads of authorship may mutate and reappear in later work.
In fact, there’s a similar start to the next game …
Star Cruiser

… where ZLP is the magic word to get things started.
This is pretty much the same structure as Misadventure: single items spread out and used to defeat enemies either violently or by scaring them off. It’s only slightly trickier than Adventure #1; I was stalled by a “prismatic square” which reflected my phaser fire. (There’s a silver ball you throw at it: “The ball dents the prismatic square out of existence!”)
There’s an alien that starts shoot right as you enter, just like Misadventure, and can randomly kill you with no recourse. Immediately after there are three buttons:
>1
You’ve started the self-destruct countdown at 20 seconds!!
>2
Self-destruct sequence terminated.
>3
You are now the commander of the star cruiser. Suddenly, Federation H.Q. appears on the screen, and tells you that this is the “Enterprise”, and that you must stop the Klingons. To continue, play “Another Star-Trek Game”.
The Star-Trek game is not an adventure game, and seems to be another branch off of Mike Mayfield’s 1971 game. It wasn’t written until 1981 so I assume either this message was added in a later revision or the author already had plans to make it.
Jailbreak

No intro here: you’re in jail, struggling to get a parser to do something. >KILL GUARD yields “Be more specific as to how.” and led me to a sad / amusing list of ways to kill a videogame NPC, none which were successful. I had to check the source code.
>THROW VOICE
The guard, hearing the sound, runs to the north.
In doing so, he drops his keys.
Young Mr. Wilcox seems to have fallen into the same “puzzles are too easy or too hard” trap of many other adventure authors.
Later, >SEARCH (just the word, by itself) is necessary to find a secret passage, and a loaded revolver. You can then blast the next security guard you see. (“The guard, unprepared for the attack, dies.”)
Then you find a disguise and badge, and manage to sneak by the world’s most unalert warden. This gets you outside where someone is selling shovels. Buying the shovel (with some cash that just happened to be lying around) and digging in an open field yields some “Evidence”.
Then you can go in the courthouse, which is right next to the prison, and win:

The (now much older) author does have self-awareness of the absurdity. This is from the source code:
// Never mind the prison guard you had to kill in cold blood to get to this point,
// or the judicial procedures required to overturn a felony conviction when new
// evidence is uncovered….
adventure_over();
In the first game you shoot a giant, in the second an alien, and the third a security guard. All are treated equally.