The Most Marketable Roguelike! Let's Play Final Fantasy Fables: Chocobo's Dungeon!

Hey kids!

Let's play Final Fantasy Fables: Chocobo's Dungeon!

Quick show of hands: who here's heard of Shiren the Wanderer? No? How about NetHack? Okay, how about Diablo? Chocobo's Dungeon, like these games, is a roguelike, which is a kind of RPG that places emphasis on randomly generated levels and treasure, movment and fights that are turn-based, consumable items that aren't normally identified until first used, and extremely harsh penalties for dying, usually the loss of the character/savefile outright.

Chocobo's Dungeon is way more forgiving than most roguelikes, and as you no doubt know, it's a Final Fantasy style game, so if you're familiar with Final Fantasy but not roguelikes, it's a good way to start. But let's actually play the game before I yammer on too much!



Day 1

Despite the header, we've been on our expedition for several days. However, today marks something that warrants this record, so I'll be doing just that.



Me and my partner have been on an expedition in the desert looking for treasure. A particularly valuable treasure, at that.



This is my partner, Cid. He's as reliable as they come, if perhaps a bit eccentric in his goals. He's always talking about that airship he wants to build.



As for me... well, for reasons that escape me, Cid insists on calling me Chocobo, despite that being my species. Still, as I cannot correct him for lack of speaking his language, and both he and I know no other unnamed chocobos, it works.



In any case, we'd been given a tip-off that there was a particularly valuable treasure in this sandy wasteland.



It was only today that we came across the tower. Hopefully, we haven't been chasing shadows here.



Once inside, Cid decides to recap the plan to me. Again, I humor him, not that I have much choice in the matter.



The treasure in question is called Timeless Power. I'm not sure if that means it actually holds such power, or if that's just the name of a pretty gem.



Either way, I was just as excited as he to have finally hit upon our destination.



Eager as he is, he runs off into the tower ahead of me. I prefer a somewhat more cautious approach, however.



Unfortunately, we'd exhausted all our non-essential supplies on the trip, and I brought nothing into the tower but the knapsack he made for me. Lack of opposable thumbs can severely hinder craftsmanship, after all.



Just ahead, I find Cid musing to himself about mysterious dungeons. These places, which only the most rogue-like of individuals dare enter, are known to shift their contents when not being explored, making them perilous to enter unless properly prepared.



The upside is that these dungeons can produce usable supplies as well as monsters and traps. Case in point, the Gysahl Greens just inside. Thinking ahead, I decide to save them for later, should the trip take longer than expected.



Just ahead, our good luck continued, as a spare saddle and some talons were lying there. I'd completely forgotten my old set at the last town.

Such carelessness won't do here, as anything not equipped, should I be forced to flee upon defeat, will be discarded in the dungeon. That I'm able to keep my equipment, I attribute to my own skill, as many adventurers can't even manage to escape such a situation alive, let alone with their armor and sword still on hand.



Sadly, both pieces of equipment are heavily rusted, but they're better than nothing.



Our first true obstacle is a set of steam traps. Unlike most traps, these ones are sitting in plain sight, and it's child's play to avoid them.



Cid mistakes my carefulness for hesitation, and implies that I can't move diagonally. Of course I can. What a stupid assumption.



Diagonal movement does no good around corners, and if the trap is hidden, as most are, then you're going to get hit anyway. How Cid managed to avoid it is beyond me, but either way, I was teleported away from him.



My destination was a small room, devoid of entry or exit, and worst of all, inhabited by a hostile bat.



I could still hear Cid's words of encouragement, so I must not have gone too far. I took a moment to size up the area around me. At this distance, if I advanced, the bat would get a free shot at me, so I instead swung my talons at it, provoking it closer.



Once the bat closed in, all that remained was to trade blows. It was not nearly as durable as me, and quickly perished.



They say every fight, no matter how trivial, teaches you something. I don't know about how true that is, but as the defeat of the bat somehow triggered a hidden staircase, I can say that I've learned that sometimes rooms only let you leave after you slaughter the indigenous wildlife. Life's funny like that.



The next room wasn't much better: two bats. Cid made an excellent point, in that I could prevent them swarming me if I backed into the hallway. Despite the appearance, the ceilings here are very low.



In theory, I could have fled down the hallway further, but then I'd chance running into something nastier, and having no way to retreat. Since the bats, one at a time, were trivial, I decided against it.



However, checking the hallway after defeating them proved lucrative, having a healing potion at the end. As an added bonus, it was also labeled. Many such drinks in the dungeon are unlabeled, which can be quite hazardous if they are toxic. Of course, one could also kick (or throw, had you the digits for it) harmful drinks at your foes to cripple them.



The next staircase down seemed to be glowing red. There's no good reason for it, but powerful entities are often found past such stairs. Maybe it's their way of decorating.



True enough, a Shade Bat lurked in the room beyond. Cid recommended my signature move, the Chocobo Kick, against it.



Technically, it's not MY signature move. It's a natural technique available to any chocobo. Despite this, and the energy it requires, it's very effective in tight quarters.

This bat proved its durability by taking three such kicks before dropping. No doubt if I lacked that skill, I would have perished.



This did exhaust my reserves of energy for such kicks, but as I survived, I feel no worse off for it. Aside from learning from the fight, the creature left behind a small crystal, which contained job points. I'll explain these in later entries, but for now, I'll just say that this is the key to unlocking new abilities aside from the Chocobo Kick.



Just ahead, I found myself reunited with Cid. If he went through any such ordeals, he surpassed them as I did. Confident that nothing could stand in our path, we hurried onwards.



However, we were greeted with a most frustrating sight, just past the next set of stairs.



My rival, Volg! A hulking and intimidating chocobo, and with a serious and calculating demeanor. He, like I, was accompanied by a human as well, in this case a smug female with an absolutely stupid hairstyle.



Amusingly, Cid considers this Irma his rival, much as I consider Volg mine.



Less amusingly, she seems to have claimed the treasure we'd been seeking from right under our feet!



At this point, however, the tower activated one final, and very devastating, trap.



A column of light struck the pedestal that no doubt formerly held Timeless Power, and a massive wave of energy coasted over all of us, hurling us through the sky with alarming speed.



This is when things start to get a tad crazy, so please bear with me.



For what felt like hours, I was sent hurtling through the stream of energy, faces flashing through my mind. If it wasn't for the mortal peril, it would feel almost like an advertisement for a performance.



Of course, I survived the bizarre encounter, as evident by the fact that you can read this.



With a sudden splash, Cid and I were hurled into the sky. A large tower-like object loomed behind us.



Once the vertigo and terror faded from being launched upward, it was recognizable as a clock tower.



The landing was painful, but not terribly injurious, and a pompous-looking human was already hurrying over to assist.

He appeared to be just as confused as Cid and I were.



I find Cid's priorities baffling at times. The bruising was far more noticeable than the dampness.



Once it was clear neither of us was in immediate danger, the pompous human introduced himself.



Cid immediately enacted his duties as diplomat and translator and introduced us.



Upon being told we'd arrived from the Tower in the Sands, Mayor Gale seemed extremely confused. Perhaps a bit moreso than usual.



That said, this was the first I'd heard of Memoria, or the town Lostime, which we were now in.



It's true, the region appears very fertile. Which begs the question: how did we get here?



That seems a bit of a stretch, but then, we were hunting Timeless Power, so it's not out of the question.



The mayor seemed rather lackadaisical about all this. At that time, I didn't think much of it.



Perhaps they vanished to a third world?



She did have it when she triggered the trap, true, but at this stage, I make no assumptions.



While Cid swore to get Irma back for this, the clock tower bell rang, as if to punctuate the statement.



For some reason, that bell induced a strange confusion in Cid.



This was made worrying when he turned to me and asked who I was, and then outright horrifying when a void appeared over his head, as if absorbing his thoughts.



Shocked, I demanded an explanation from the mayor, who seemed none too concerned about this sudden amnesia.

I consider being unable to remember your partner's face a severe cause for alarm.



A number of townsfolk approached across the bridges, each eerily echoing their mayor's sentiments.



The three of them spoke, first in turn, then in unison, like some mad cult of forgetfulness.



Even in his addled state, Cid could sense that we not in a sane town.



The mayor, although he sounded far less creepy, drove the point that this forgetfulness was a good thing.



Fortunately, the voice of reason echoed from across the bridge.



The young female, dressed in white mage robes, identified herself to us and told us that she planned on rescuing us. Which, of course, suited me fine. Who knows what these lunatics planned on doing?



Granted, lunatics that can't remember their own plans are hardly threatening, but I shudder to think that I might lose my own memories from the bell. Hopefully it only affects humans.



Shirma appeared to take a harsh stance to the town's ideals.



Yet it appears the mayor is familiar with her, despite his memory loss.



She began leading us to her home in short order, clearly not wanting to risk any more time there.



The mayor made one last offer for her to stay, which she vehemently refused.



Fortunately, although he could not remember me, Cid was lucid enough to follow Shirma out of range of the bell.



As we walked, a map fell out of Shirma's cloak pocket. She didn't notice, so I picked it up. I may as well have not bothered, as the map was just of the town, which is rather small.



It didn't take long for us to reach our destination, a small farm.

This news was an incredible relief after all that had occurred.



However, it seems that distance does nothing to dilute the aftereffects of the bell.



To make matters worse, trying to remember whatever you forgot actively causes pain. No doubt that plays a large part in the town's cultist beliefs.



At this point, it was painfully obvious that though this was no mere dungeon. It was a hostile and alien land, and Shirma was our sole guide.



I immediately rectified this assumption once we met the farm's owner.



Stella is evidently Shirma's aunt. The two have the sense to live outside the range of that damned bell.



Shirma conveyed my gratitude for their hospitality to Stella surprisingly quickly.



I've traveled with Cid for a few years now, and he still cannot speak my language. Fortunately, I'm a rather emphatic individual when it comes to body language. Some people find it adorable, I've found.



It seems that this is yet another such case.



However, it's not exactly easy to pantomime "I can understand your language, my vocal cords just don't have the range needed to speak it".



Still, the levity was appreciated.



I even overlooked the blatant stereotype in light of the good fortune.



Not to mention, Shirma attempting to mimic a chocobo's voice was rather amusing.



Eventually, she caught on.



I'm a treasure hunter, not an interpretive dancer.

Still, I'm pretty good at conveying my message. She somehow gleaned both our names and professions from a few nods and waves.



My initial thought was that asking a total stranger about something would be a bad idea, but considering everyone else she knows, why not?



I wouldn't be able to tell one human apart from another without some identifying features.



Unfortunately, it seems she lacks such qualifiers due to that bell. I wonder if she's tried breaking it?



To compound her problems, she seems to have misplaced a staff of hers.



Most likely she left it in the town.



Concerned, Stella asks us to follow her.



Although night has fallen, it won't be hard to track her, considering the recently traveled trail and the map I have.



However, my treasure hunting instincts momentarily take over, and I search the farm. My first find is a Mystery Letter.



Aside from that, I also met the other denizens of the farm. I have a talent for understanding, if perhaps not speaking, other languages, and can communicate with every animal I find here. They all appear to have instructions and tips for new travelers, which as a seasoned veteran, I don't need, but it's a stroke of good luck all the same.



The letter's contents, however, are far less understandable. I should keep the phrase Camelot in mind, though. Perhaps it will come in handy.



It took little time to track her to the town. However, I shall stop writing here, as the time nears midnight. I hope my memory lasts me long enough to see the next entry, and eventually our escape, completed.

Next Time: Chocobo Jones and the Cursed Saddle

The Swedish call them "Chorkaborks".

Chocobos Dungeon MAY WELL BE the most friendly and approachable roguelike I've ever played. And, despite how obnoxiously chatty it can be at times, its nowhere near as obnoxiously chatty as the Pokemon Mystery Dungeons

However, Pokémon Mystery Dungeon is by far the most marketable roguelike. The thread lies!

I reviewed this game and I don't remember a bit of the story. Just the dungeons. I guess that means it was a success it doing its thing?

Hey, it's the only roguelike I've managed to complete! Not like I've played very many, though.

And then there's the soundtrack!

...Aw damn it!

Still, "the second most marketable roguelike" isn't as interesting (and I am pretty sure it pushes the character limit on topics) so it will remain as is!

I watched a VLP of this game that stopped after three videos, so I hope to see it to the end this time!

I like what you did with the narration.

The threat of potential memory obliteration would have made a good narrative justification for the protagonist to begin keeping a journal.

Oh, I can just see the pitch meeting for this game.

Square Designer: "It's like the film Memento* but set in the Final Fantasy universe and starring a chococbo!"

Square President: "Get the fuck out of my office."

*Yes, I know the film came out years after the first game...

Chocobo's Dungeon has a really adorable visual style, and it's way more user friendly than other roguelikes (even the ones with Pokémon), but I liked the DS version of Shiren the Wanderer way better as a game. A pity the other DS Shirens never got localized.

Still is friggin' adorable, though. You just wanna give Chocobo a big hug. ^.^

Hmm. I really like the balance of Pokémon Mystery Dungeon's bonus dungeons (the ones that aren't full of cutscenes and are actually really hard, rather than easy like most of the game); I wonder if Chocobo's Dungeon is similar in terms of its difficulty curve. As a roguelike fan, I'll be following this one with interest.

(And with respect to the comments about chattiness; Pokémon Mystery Dungeon not only has cutscenes with savepoints in, which is always a bad sign, but also cutscenes that contain flashbacks to earlier in the same cutscene. The mind boggles…)

Loved this game. Only trouble is there's no reason to use anything but White Mage or Black Mage. BM steamrolls every dungeon and WM is nearly as good but with heals.

Now, y'see, I don't consider being forced to play as a Chocobo dressed as a Black mage to be, in any sense, a negative thing.

Actually, I ignored both mages in my normal playthrough in favor of Thief and Scholar.

Thief was a bit underwhelming after a while, but the easy access to status effects, especially poison, was nice.

Scholar... well, the final ability the scholar gets is more broken than the black mage and white mage combined.

I wonder if Mystery Dungeon game developers ever look at non-Mystery Dungeon roguelike games for inspiration. It certainly feels like they don't. It's like a 20 game strong series of 2D platformers took its cues entirely from Super Mario Land and then older entries in the same series.

It's not but there's plenty of other cute outfits that never get shown off. Dragoon! Dancer!

I'm a big fan of this one.

This looks to be interesting. Going for all jobs/100%/kill Moogle Z [that's its name right?]? Oh, and the diary-esque entry style is awesome! More Chocobo!

I won't be going for a 100% run. I rarely ever do. I will, however, obtain all the jobs because they let you do cool stuff, and I will at least try that one thing. It's particularly easy if you use the Knight job and park yourself on the stairs down, just in case.

Night 1

It took very little time to relocate Shirma in town. Conveniently enough, she took very little time to locate her staff as well.



The quality of the staff was decent. I never really trained in human weaponry, but it seemed nice enough.



Shirma brought up yet another oddity about the town: namely, the total lack of fire. It took me a second to realize she meant the streetlamps, rather than a literal inferno.



I'd rather not get any closer to that clock tower than I have to, but my curiosity has been known to get the better of me.



The rest of the townsfolk have evidently noticed the lack of fire. It seems that it's no simple problem, and one could not even ignite kindling with sparks from a flintstone.



Needless to say, this has a large impact on their lives, particularly at night.



I recall some myths about lands becoming blighted because crystals, holding elemental power, went dark. I never saw evidence of such myself, but considering we're in a town where a clock tower's bell causes amnesia, who knows?



The mayor's solution was just about as lacking as my hypothesis.



Even the townsfolk seemed incredulous.



And yet, a sudden brilliant light in the sky indicated how accurate this seeming prophecy would be.



The townsfolk had not yet forgotten common sense, and dove out of the way of the incoming comet.



The burst of light it made upon impact was spectacular, to say the least.



Fortunately, we could see that the impact itself was only slightly more damaging than the one Cid and I made upon our entry.



Strangely, there was no meteorite at the impact site, just a light green egg.



No sooner did Shirma and I arrive than did the egg start to hatch.

Strangely enough, the egg contained a human infant, with hair to match the egg's color.



It immediately started that grating wail such infants are known for.



I felt no need to argue with Shirma on this point. The more relevant issue was why did this human choose such a ridiculous showy way of being born?



Further adding to the surreal setting, the baby spoke up, addressing Shirma by name.



For once, I'm inclined to agree with the mayor.



The strangest part yet was that the mayor was somehow able to recall the infant's name.



He immediately realized his "folly", but the fact remained that he recalled the name of an infant that had fallen from the sky mere seconds before.



Shirma brought up the point on my behalf.



The mayor started to think of just how he recalled the infant's name.



Suddenly, the clock tower sounded its "Bell of Oblivion", and I felt a sudden panic, knowing what the bell could do.



Fortunately, it spared me, instead "cutting off" Mayor Gale from his answer. So suddenly, in fact, that the mayor forgot his name entirely.



However, rather than waiting for the void hanging over his mind to vanish, the infant Raffaello took action, in its own way.



Which is to say it dove into the void, shimmering brightly.

I'm not sure how any of that is supposed to make sense.



I can, however, make sense of what came after.



I picked up the odd brooch the infant left behind, and as if I'd known all along, the function of the brooch was imparted to me. With this, I could follow Raffaello into the void of the person's memories.

More curious than confused, I approached the mayor and activated the brooch.



And just like that, I was in his memories.



The infant's incessant screeching fell as background noise to my sudden realization about the mayor's memories.



I don't know if it's due to the bell, the brooch, or my own perceptions, but I was able to walk through the mayor's memories as if they were a mysterious dungeon. As I entered into the dungeon proper, I heard the mayor's voice echo around me:

Quote:

If we forgot about it, we never needed it.

The first floor had the stairs further down right in front of me. I suppose the chief thing to do would be to rescue the infant, but if this really is a proper mysterious dungeon, then I should be able to raid it as one. If he's only remembering the items inside, then he won't really need them, will he?



There appeared to be more goods than goons in the dungeon, however.



Additionally, most enemies I found were sleeping. If I didn't know better, I'd feel like the dungeon was coddling me.

Quote:

Forgetting heals the heart. A loss can give us a new beginning.

The next floor was similarly simplistic. That tile just beyond the potion struck me as a possible trap, but due to my overconfidence, I decided to trip it anyway, just to see what the traps of the mayor's mind could do.



To my great surprise, the trap actually held an apple! I enjoy these rare treats even more than greens, and ate it then and there. If ever I'm feeling under the weather, an apple is by far the best thing for me.



Convinced that this was just a fluke, and I couldn't rely on all traps being such sudden windfalls, I tried triggering another.



It turned out to be a healing spell.

...No more stepping into traps. It's going to start playing tricks on my mind.



Any explorer worth their salt has to be aware of what a creature is capable of the moment they see it. This Floater Shade possesses a sleep-inducing attack, which has obvious disadvantages for me. Fortunately, I'm not a completely oblivious imbecile like many adventurers, and wake up when attacked afterwards.

Quote:

We are not mistaken in our choice. Please, everyone! Please follow me!

As before, the next staircase down had a red glow about it. No doubt a fearsome enemy (by this dungeon's standards) lay in wait below.



While scavenging for additonal supplies, I managed to claim a potion from a fallen enemy. It's no surprise that creatures like to hoard any strange items they find. I've heard of stories where such creatures can actually use whatever they have on hand as competently as any explorer, but I've yet to see such opponents.



Not content with stocking consumable supplies, the dungeon eventually yielded leather armaments as well. Marginally better than the rusted junk I scavenged from the Tower in the Sands. So equipped, I venture down to the fourth, and presumably final, floor.

As expected, the floor was inhabited by a monstrous shade, resembling a massive turtle.



As I advanced to fight, I noticed the creature's slow movements. Thinking quickly, I first struck with a Chocobo Kick...



And then quickly darted backwards. The lumbering beast followed me, but not overly quickly.



This is a common tactic among seasoned explorers, useful for trivializing slow monsters. If you attack and then move away, they are forced to spend their time chasing you rather than mounting a counterattack, meaning you can chip away at even the sturdiest enemy if they're slow enough.



Of course, if you have nowhere to run to, the advantage you have here quickly runs out. Worst case scenario, you end up backing away to another enemy, and are cornered by both the new opponent and your slow heavy-hitter.



Fortunately, the three Chocobo Kicks I delivered took their toll, and a few attacks later, the beast perished. I claimed the money it left behind and headed further inward.



Inside, Raffaello was clutching onto something strange, still screeching. Given its resemblance to the odd bits of thought flitting around the dungeon, I hazarded a guess that this might be a specific memory of the mayor.



As I advanced, the memory dissipated, presumably freed from the labyrinth. This brought the infant great delight.



Just as I made a note of my success, there happened a sudden rushing feeling all around me, no doubt as I was being removed from the dungeon back into reality.



The memory itself, however, echoed in my head as I left, bringing a curious side of the mayor to light.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mayor Gale's Memories Nor must we ever let the loss of the nine brave souls be in vain. We must carry on! And continue to defend our town! Our world! Because there is hope. One last glimmer of hope... Please follow me! And believe in me! Because the future is only for those who believe! My name is Gale, and I am the mayor of Lostime!

I don't know if this sudden memory will change his attitude, but it certainly raises even more questions.



Either way, I found myself back at the piazza, with Raffaello next to me.



I must admit that I was not sure how to pantomime exactly what I just did.



At that moment, it struck me. I just reversed the effects of the bell.



And it was easy. I was in my element, through some miracle, exploring a mysterious dungeon. I could help Cid recall who he was, thanks to this infant.

The mayor, of course, paid no attention to me.



At least he's reining in that inane mantra.



I'm already three steps ahead of you, Shirma.



I hope the mayor doesn't count as the infant's father or some nonsense.



Before I went off myself, the mayor spoke up about a bank, and though it sounds contrary, I simply had to follow.



Odd though it sounds, banks and storage houses are an important part of any explorer's repertoire. After all, I'd lose any and all supplies I take into a dungeon should I be defeated, so these institutions serve as an emergency stockpile.



For reasons unknown, these jobs are usually handled by Fat Chocobos. Cid, of course, had his own storage manager, some fellow in a green sweater with a knit cap.



Since I had no idea when I'd next see him, I decided to start a secondary stockpile, handing off all the supplies I wouldn't need outright for the journey into Cid's memories.



The same goes for the bank. You'd think that money would be useless in an uninhabited dungeon, but there are always those oddballs that set up shop in the depths, and it never hurts to be prepared for them.



Speaking of oddballs, I happened to spy an oddly dressed moogle loitering outside the farm.



The moogle launched into what I presume must be some kind of narration. The deluded thing must think itself a superhero.



My pity quickly turned to shock and annoyance as it emitted a flash of light and shouted a fanfare at me.



In retrospect, I should've ignored him and gone into the house, preferably getting Shirma to lock the door behind me.



However, the moogle stopped trying to fit words to each letter in his title long enough to accost me about mysterious dungeons.



I will admit, at first the idea of a rare and useful item was interesting, but my skepticism arrived quickly enough to cushion my hopes as they fell.