guys, the movies, right? We’re ready to take our place in the world. And we will, and we’re going to kick their ass. That’s right, Spielberg. I’m calling you out!”
I left as the applause line hit and dissolved into laughter. I knew what I was up against. I knew enough to understand the media narrative they were hoping for: Black Arts Studios sells out, loses the genius duo that made it special, falls on its face. That was the story worth showing up to cover. The presentation hall itself was like an enormous engine specifically designed to leach charisma from the person speaking at the front of it. Pale bald developers dragged themselves onstage to deliver a marketing presentation with the stumbling cadence of a man dribbling an underinflated basketball.
The hall was more crowded than I expected, about two-thirds full—two hundred people, maybe. I guessed it was an even split between hard-core franchise loyalists, people (journalists, particularly) who’d come expressly to see us fall on our faces, and people making sure they got a seat for the Sony press conference that followed us in the same venue. But there was a buzz to it. There was a narrative here, and we were going to get written up. I was going to get written up.
A woman from IT gave me a small microphone to clip to my collar. I typed RoGVII.exe at the keyboard tucked inside the podium and pressed F8. The demo splash screen came up on-screen behind me. I torqued half around, in the awkward characteristic pose you get into, demoing a game on a screen above and behind you. The demo was on two screens, and on a third there was me. I was seeing myself on a forty-foot-tall screen. I swayed a little. I wasn’t hungover; rather, I thought I might still be a little drunk.
“The latest game—this exciting new entry—in our award-winning Realms of Gold franchise, Realms VII: Winter’s Crown, is designed to appeal to those new to gaming and hard-core gamers alike. Whether you are new to the Realms or a longtime resident, it will offer familiar delights and a few new surprises.”
Most of the first four rows of the hall were full, with a few stragglers standing at the edges and back.
“The time…” It seemed a little too soft, so I started again, leaning into the microphone a little. “The time”—too loud!—“is late in the Third Age of Endorian History!”
I gestured up at the screen showing the calligraphed words WINTER’S CROWN as the music built to a climax and the hall lights dimmed.
The screen cleared to reveal a young woman standing in a city square, a crimson-and-violet sunset behind her. The inevitable joker in the audience gave a wolf whistle, but she wasn’t much of a pinup figure. She wore a gray cloak over worn and scratched leather armor. Her idle animations were set to “nervous,” meaning that if I weren’t issuing any commands she’d stand where she was and tap her foot, glance around, touch her sword hilt just to make sure it was hanging right. As the sun set she was illuminated more clearly by light spilling out of a tavern window.
“As you can see here… the Realms engine has been enhanced and updated…” I panned across the square and instantly regretted it as the frame rate chugged a little while the renderer choked on all those polys. For a moment I was paralyzed by the thought that I can’t take a breath or speak a word that isn’t going to boom through the hall. The microphone felt like a bee stuck to my lapel.
“… improved magic system… an array of weapons…” There was an agreed-on and exhaustively rehearsed list of features. In the course of the ten-minute demo I had to hit them all. I was saying something about mipmapping that a programmer had told me to point out. Did other games have it? I didn’t know.
I didn’t know what it was, but I could feel the collective boredom of the audience. The journalists had been to, at the minimum, a dozen of these press events in the past three days, each one pushing to be bigger than the last, each one in its own way at once technically dazzling and utterly boring. Every year the technology got better but the stories were the same recycled Joseph Campbell or knockoffs of two-years-ago hit movies. When was the last time something surprising happened at one of these?
“We’re at a point midway through