Monster Hunter Freedom 2

Recently played a game on my PSP called the above. It was recommended to me by a couple of friends and thus, I purchased the game, looking to see what was so addictive about it.

I started slightly turned off by the main menu's graphics: They looked like the menu from an old arcade game. I mean, this was supposed to be quite an advanced game right? Ok, putting the menu aside, I started the game.

Again, turned off. No intuitive controls. For about fifteen minutes, I was stuck in the house, tapping away frustratedly at any key in an attempt to exit the house.

When I finally exited, I was disppointed. I just had a small town, nothing more, to wander about in, seems like the developers threw out all the exploring elements: the town had only the most essential elements, a smithy, a weapons shop, a general supply store. There were no other domestic houses in sight. Even the people were placed there for a specific reason, nobody more, not to mention that they stayed the exact same place.

Seems like they are just there to serve you.

Also, there is an option to go direct to a shop, cutting travel time even more. This totally dropped my suspension of disbelief, that meaning that I wasn't immersed in the game any longer, also, I had to attend a boot camp before even starting on a mission (I didn't know what to do during the missions). I spent about 45 minutes on the boot camp, then went straight into the mission.

Horrible it was, the first mission I tried, I couldn't even kill the monster after two deaths and 45minutes. After that, I gave up. There is nothing else in the game except killing monsters, collecting items and buying stuff. Thats it.

Total score:4.3/10

Final statement: This is a game definately not for the casual gamer.

-Alson

Warfront

May 14 ~ D-Day

The night held a mist over the dark sea, concealing all. Such that it was that the defenders knew nothing as they chatted over glowing cigarettes, laughing at jokes that had grown old with much use.

The a wave crashed, and it would be long before it would be as clear again.

The metal planks dropped, and squads of men rushed out, yelling battle cries. The defenders jerked to their nerves, dropping their cards, their smokes. Grabbing the guns and loading chains. 

The battle of the beachhead had begun.

Streams of bullets streaked across the sandy beach. Men scrambled over those that had came before, firing wildly at the holes which the machine guns poked out from. Those who paused to aim were shredded by unforgiving metal slugs, tearing chunks of living red meat out. The first wave made it to the anti tank defences, but half their number was lost. The second wave landed, but they were not a lucky to have the element of surprise. Many opened to death of the bullets, killing all within the landing craft. Artillery started to whistle overhead, one ship lifted over the crest of a wave, and was blasted to smithereens, men and parts of men flew out in all directions and the remainder of the craft turned over like a dead whale.

But the assault continued.

The first wave rushed forwards. Half of their number were killed the moment they emerged from their hiding places. Bullets ricocheted around the metal structures, turning the entire area into a deadly pinball game. As men rushed forwards, others at their side fell. Those who stopped were killed, those who rushed were shredded. All around, men rallied for a charge, but the missiles of death destroyed those notions, blasting groups to smoking craters and bloodied corpses.

None of the several hundred men of the first wave made it.

The second wave used the first wave as human shields. Men crawled under the shrieking bullets, those who were unlucky were killed. Those who survived died the next second. Men leaned down, picked up corpses and marched forward. The bodies jerked as bullets pounded into them like sweeping waves. But the defenders wised up, and concentrated their fire at those moving dead bodies. Good defence as they were, the bodies couldn't stop the concentrated pinpoints of fire.

The assault stopped.

But slowly slowly, the few random bullets from a few rifles replied to the screaming whail of the machine guns. One suddenly jerked, then leaned over, silenced. Men yelled, then surged forwards. Bombs blew up groups, but they still surged, an unstoppable wave. Something screamed, not a shell, overhead. Men looked up and saw a flight of bombers crossing overhead, carrying their insigna. They cheered, even as their number fell, as one, two, turrets exploded, leaving smoking structures.

There was nothing that could stop them now.

The defenders reconised this, and abandoned their posts, firing wildly back as they retreated. The men captured the beachhead, but at a cost of many of their number. Some died in the boats, some died on the beach, cowering behind inpromptu defences, some died rushing, catching a bullet in the throat, still yelling, gurgling as they died. But some made it, and some would live to tell the tale.

The tale that I tell you now.

-End

-Alson

*My thoughts as we made past the exam days. Great job guys!*