Dear Creative Assembly,
I am a long time Total War fan. I own Shogun Total War, Medieval Total War, Rome Total War, Medieval 2 Total War, plus most of the expansions. I predicted that the Empire Total War fiasco would happen months ago, during development. I was flamed on there forums cause if it. I knew that this would happen just by looking at the old games. Rome and med2. I saw the bad releases. Creative Assembly (CA), you, have a rep for it, but this game takes the cake.
For reference purposes, note that I don't own Empire. I don't plan on it. Creative Assembly, you, have lost a customer. I don't plan on buying the game till it is in the bargain bin and the problems are fixed. I can wait 8 months. I did on Med2. Bought that one for cheap.
People are blaming CA for there problems with the game. Is it really there fault? Kinda. In a way. But who's fault is it really? I say that it is the PC game industry faults. That means everyone involved in it. That means CA, SEGA, EB Games, Walmart, you and most defiantly me.
Go to most gaming stores. Now, compare there PC games with there Console games. Notice a difference? Notice that the PC section is so small? And there aren't a lot of good titles there? A couple too many SIM games?
Then all of the good games are faulty and unplayable (Not to mention unbuyable). When you do buy a game, you have to spend hours upon hours patching the game if you bought it well after the release date. If you bought it on release, prepare yourself for an unplayable game. So them you spend all day trying to get the game to work, when a friend calls you up to tell you not to buy the game cause he just finished taking it off of torrent and will give it to you for free.
That is the problem with this industry. People will go out to buy the game fanatically on release day and wonder why CA has slapped them in the face with a bad game. Or rip it off. The ones that buy the bad game are just as bad as those that rip it off, but for different reasons. Those that rip it off are fueling the fire of securerom and steam which punish the consumer who only want to play a game. Those that buy the game fanatically fuel the Developers coffers enabling them to release another bad game. That company needs to realize its mistake and fold up like a good little boy.
Developers like movie producers must realize that we will happily spend 50 bucks on a game if the game is worth it. I will happily go to the movie theatre to see a movie if it is worth it. If it isn't, I will wait for it to get into the bargain bin to buy it. I did that for many games and movies. Some I am glad that I did.
Does complaining help at all. Yes and no. It is only good if developers and consumers actually read it. Complain to Mcdonalds and you get a free burger. Too many people complain, the restaurant gets Mystery shopped. If it fails that, the owner/manager gets in trouble. We complain here in these forums, nothing really happens. You talk with your wallet, however, CA's purse gets hurt.
Those that bought the game and are complaining. Shame on you. You should have known. Those that can actually play the game, can I come over to your house?
Sincerely,
Nathan Pedde
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Solar Storm: Chpater Two
(This is the second chapter of my book. Read, comment and enjoy!)
CHAPTER TWO
BURRARD THERMAL PLANT- PORT MOODY, BC- MARCH 12TH- 4:30 AM
Dave turned onto the drive that wound its way down the steep hillside to the Burrard Thermal Plant. He sped around a tight turn and four very large smoke stacks appeared in the distance in front of him. Hundreds of bright lights illuminating the power plant.
The plant was made up of four-story buildings which surrounded the four smoke stacks. The site was built at the bottom of a mountain side on the shore of the Burrard Inlet.
As he got to the bottom of the hill, he screeched to a halt at a security check point.
A security guard stepped out to greet him.
“Hey Dave,” the guard said, “You’re early.”
“Emergency.” Dave said.
“What kind of emergency?”
“The kind that people die in.”
“Sure there is.” The guard said sceptically.
“Would you please just let me in?” Dave said with a fire in his voice.
“All right... all right...” The guard said as he raised the gate.
Dave sped off which caused gravel and rocks to spray backwards.
He parked with a screech.
Dave picked his cell phone up off of the floor of his car. He dialled Lucy’s number and after a couple rings, Lucy picked up.
“Dave!” Lucy said, “It’s happening too fast.”
“What do you mean too fast?” Dave replied as he got out of his car.
“A third of the communication satellites have fried.” Lucy yelled over the phone, “All of the older ones at first, but the newer ones will go soon. Hell, one dropped out of the sky and landed in Stanley Park.”
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Dave cried.
He ran up the walkway towards the building. “I am at the Thermal Plant. If I can shut down the power in time, Vancouver should be spared the worse.”
“I hope so.” Lucy said, “According to my numbers, cars are going to fry as well.”
“What do you mean that cars are going to fry?” Dave yelled into his phone, “Cars should be fine! They shouldn’t be affected by a solar storm! Hello! Lucy! Hello!”
There was a silent pause. Dave looked at his phone. It said, “No service.”
He tossed it to the ground.
Dave ran into the building and flew up a set of stairs three at a time. Dave slammed open the door to the control room.
“Phase two has started!” Dave yelled.
“Phase what? What are you talking about?” Kenny Davis, a control operator yelled back to him.
“The end of the world!” Dave said.
“The what now?” Kenny yelled.
“Listen carefully. I need you to shut down the power, now!”
“I don’t think so.” Kenny said, “The last time that I did that, I almost got fired and imprisoned. Hell, I am surprised that you didn’t get fired and imprisoned.”
“Listen to me.” Dave yelled, “A powerful solar storm is brewing. It is going to be big and people are going to die unless I can get the power off and save the city.”
“Save the city?” Kenny said in mock disbelief, “I might be a little tired but, how in this world can a solar storm kill people?”
“The storm will cause a massive electrical surge in anything electrical or anything that could run electricity.”
“Surge disables power grid.” Kenny said, “I don’t think so. We have systems that protect it.”
“Which are disabled and blind!” Dave said, “Unless I can save the plant, it won’t be able to produce any electricity for a very long time.”
“How big is this storm going to be?”
“Big enough to knock out all utility power at least.” Dave said, “Look. In 1989 a solar storm hit Quebec and knocked out power to millions of people for two weeks. In 1857, a solar storm hit and almost electrocuted telegraph operators.”
“So.” Kenny said, “That’s Quebec and who cares about what happened in 1857.”
“Who cares?” Dave said, “This storm is ten times the size of those two storms combined!”
“You want the power off at 5 o’clock in the bloody morning, you can call the mayor!” Kenny said.
7,500 FEET ABOVE DOWNTOWN VANCOUVER- MARCH 12TH- 8:50 AM
The 747 airliner circled around the Vancouver International Airport in a wide circle that skirted over Downtown Vancouver.
John McHurdey was fifty-five years old and he was tired. He was stuck in a tin can waiting to land. He was on a long flight from Toronto and only wanted off of the plane.
On the tiny TV, encased in the chair in front of him, was the news. A shot of fiery wreckage which stretched across a run-way flashed across the tiny screen.
“I don’t know Bill,” the News Announcer said, “Airport Officials aren’t talking at the moment. We don’t know what caused the plane to crash. Rumour has it that this unusual solar weather has been causing problems with the planes GPS system.” The screen changed to a shot of a young reporter holding onto a microphone. “I have nothing official at the moment, but as soon as Airport officials talk to us, you’ll know.”
John pulled out the earphones from his ears. He reached up and rung the attendant call button. A few seconds later, an attendant approached John.
“How may I help you?” She said in an overly heightened flight attendant voice.
“Is there any way that I can get a phone, so that I can call my wife. I need to tell her that I am fine and that my plane wasn’t the one that crashed.”
“We do have a phone that you can use with a credit card, but as we are having magnetic interference, the Captain has shut off the phone until we think that it is safe enough to use. We apologize for any inconvenience.”
John grumbled slightly, “When are we going to land.”
“We will be landing shortly.” the flight attendant said walking away.
“That means as soon as they clear wreckage from the runway.” John muttered under his breath.
He should have landed hours ago, except that there had been reports of weather related air accidents in multiple airports shutting them down. Abbotsford, Victoria, Vancouver, they had all been shut down. Airports in Seattle, Washington had also experienced similar problems. Not that they could land there with the US Border being like it was. It was like Armageddon had happened and he was stuck in the air. He didn’t know what was going on.
People, like John, were pretty angry. The longer that they stayed in the air, the greater chance that they wouldn’t be going home at all.
“Are you sure that there isn’t another airport that we can land at?” a young blonde woman three rows over asked impatiently.
“For the last time, no.” the flight attendant said as stress showed for the first time, “We are doing all that we can, we have no choice but to wait.”
“What do you mean no?” the woman asked.
“I’m sorry for all of the inconvenience,” the flight attendant began, “But we can’t land because we don’t have clearance to land.”
“Let me talk to them, they’ll give me clearance.” the woman said egotistically.
“They can’t give us clearance because of the accident at Vancouver International Airport.” The flight attendant said, “Listen, I don’t know any more than you do.”
News reports flashed on the TV’s screen. It showed more fiery wreckage.
The woman suddenly got very worried and very pale. It was if she was either smarter than she looked and put it together, or she was reading the flight attendant’s mind.
“Don’t worry. They’ll clear off a runway soon and we’ll be able to land in no time at all.” the flight attendant said.
Suddenly everything went dark and silent. All of the lights went out and the engines sputtered like a ten year old beater on its last legs. Then they died completely.
“Oh fuck.” John said as he pulled his seat belt tighter.
“What the fuck is going on?” the blonde screamed.
Other people began to scream as panic filled the airliner.
“Emergency positions!” the flight attendant yelled.
The plane started to vibrate fiercely and the flight attendant was thrown right into the blonde woman.
The jet suddenly smoothed out. The echo of teary-eyed kids filled the tiny-tin death trap.
The flight attendant got up off of the blonde woman, “Keep calm, we have everything under control.”
Then the airspeed dropped. The jets altitude plummeted as the jet nosedived towards the towering skyscrapers below.
The flight attendant was lifted off of the ground as the plane dropped.
“Oh fuck! I don’t want to die!” she screamed.
She hit the floor of the cabin and slid down the aisle head first.
John reached down and grabbed the flight attendants ankle. The force pulled him toward the seat in front of him. His head hit the seat and he grunted in pain as his shoulder was nearly dislocated.
John gritted his teeth and said a silent prayer to whoever listened.
The flight attendant’s skirt flew up revealing a sexy pair of black panties.
She pushed the skirt down with one hand, trying to cover herself. She grabbed hold of John’s arm with the other hand. With a grunt, John released her ankle and grabbed hold of her wrist. She quickly corrected herself.
“You okay?” John asked.
“Yah!” She said.
The flight attendant grabbed hold of the seat in front of John.
The jet screamed down towards the towering skyscrapers. Slowly, the jet started to tilt up towards the horizon.
But it was too late. The jet had dropped seven thousand feet.
John saw an office tower fly by his window. Its occupants looked scared and shocked.
“Oh fuck.” John said, “This isn’t good.”
Another office tower flew by his window. It narrowly missed the wing by a few feet. The jet missed a third tower by dipping its wing tip.
The jet rocked the other way. The right wing sliced into a tower, like a hot knife cutting through butter. The wing smashed its way through glass and steel. It sliced deeper into the glass tower. Desks, people and a multitude of random debris were smashed and pushed out of the way.
The wing collided into a concrete pillar. The force of the crash turned the jet and caused the fuselage to smash into the building. The wing stopped dead in its tracks.
John yelled and prayed as the jet smashed through the corner of the tower and out into the air. The right wing, however, broke off from the fuselage and stayed inside the tower. Its fuel tanks poured out liquid death into the tower.
The jet dropped down towards the ground, but before it could hit, it smashed into a tower across the street. The left wing smashed into the building, ramming the tip into the elevator shaft. The fuselage bounced on the concrete floor ripping the left wing clear off. It skidded along the floor and smashed through the glass on the other side of the building. It slid into the open space between buildings.
On fire and broken, the jet dropped to the ground in a flaming ball of jet fuel.
CHAPTER TWO
BURRARD THERMAL PLANT- PORT MOODY, BC- MARCH 12TH- 4:30 AM
Dave turned onto the drive that wound its way down the steep hillside to the Burrard Thermal Plant. He sped around a tight turn and four very large smoke stacks appeared in the distance in front of him. Hundreds of bright lights illuminating the power plant.
The plant was made up of four-story buildings which surrounded the four smoke stacks. The site was built at the bottom of a mountain side on the shore of the Burrard Inlet.
As he got to the bottom of the hill, he screeched to a halt at a security check point.
A security guard stepped out to greet him.
“Hey Dave,” the guard said, “You’re early.”
“Emergency.” Dave said.
“What kind of emergency?”
“The kind that people die in.”
“Sure there is.” The guard said sceptically.
“Would you please just let me in?” Dave said with a fire in his voice.
“All right... all right...” The guard said as he raised the gate.
Dave sped off which caused gravel and rocks to spray backwards.
He parked with a screech.
Dave picked his cell phone up off of the floor of his car. He dialled Lucy’s number and after a couple rings, Lucy picked up.
“Dave!” Lucy said, “It’s happening too fast.”
“What do you mean too fast?” Dave replied as he got out of his car.
“A third of the communication satellites have fried.” Lucy yelled over the phone, “All of the older ones at first, but the newer ones will go soon. Hell, one dropped out of the sky and landed in Stanley Park.”
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Dave cried.
He ran up the walkway towards the building. “I am at the Thermal Plant. If I can shut down the power in time, Vancouver should be spared the worse.”
“I hope so.” Lucy said, “According to my numbers, cars are going to fry as well.”
“What do you mean that cars are going to fry?” Dave yelled into his phone, “Cars should be fine! They shouldn’t be affected by a solar storm! Hello! Lucy! Hello!”
There was a silent pause. Dave looked at his phone. It said, “No service.”
He tossed it to the ground.
Dave ran into the building and flew up a set of stairs three at a time. Dave slammed open the door to the control room.
“Phase two has started!” Dave yelled.
“Phase what? What are you talking about?” Kenny Davis, a control operator yelled back to him.
“The end of the world!” Dave said.
“The what now?” Kenny yelled.
“Listen carefully. I need you to shut down the power, now!”
“I don’t think so.” Kenny said, “The last time that I did that, I almost got fired and imprisoned. Hell, I am surprised that you didn’t get fired and imprisoned.”
“Listen to me.” Dave yelled, “A powerful solar storm is brewing. It is going to be big and people are going to die unless I can get the power off and save the city.”
“Save the city?” Kenny said in mock disbelief, “I might be a little tired but, how in this world can a solar storm kill people?”
“The storm will cause a massive electrical surge in anything electrical or anything that could run electricity.”
“Surge disables power grid.” Kenny said, “I don’t think so. We have systems that protect it.”
“Which are disabled and blind!” Dave said, “Unless I can save the plant, it won’t be able to produce any electricity for a very long time.”
“How big is this storm going to be?”
“Big enough to knock out all utility power at least.” Dave said, “Look. In 1989 a solar storm hit Quebec and knocked out power to millions of people for two weeks. In 1857, a solar storm hit and almost electrocuted telegraph operators.”
“So.” Kenny said, “That’s Quebec and who cares about what happened in 1857.”
“Who cares?” Dave said, “This storm is ten times the size of those two storms combined!”
“You want the power off at 5 o’clock in the bloody morning, you can call the mayor!” Kenny said.
7,500 FEET ABOVE DOWNTOWN VANCOUVER- MARCH 12TH- 8:50 AM
The 747 airliner circled around the Vancouver International Airport in a wide circle that skirted over Downtown Vancouver.
John McHurdey was fifty-five years old and he was tired. He was stuck in a tin can waiting to land. He was on a long flight from Toronto and only wanted off of the plane.
On the tiny TV, encased in the chair in front of him, was the news. A shot of fiery wreckage which stretched across a run-way flashed across the tiny screen.
“I don’t know Bill,” the News Announcer said, “Airport Officials aren’t talking at the moment. We don’t know what caused the plane to crash. Rumour has it that this unusual solar weather has been causing problems with the planes GPS system.” The screen changed to a shot of a young reporter holding onto a microphone. “I have nothing official at the moment, but as soon as Airport officials talk to us, you’ll know.”
John pulled out the earphones from his ears. He reached up and rung the attendant call button. A few seconds later, an attendant approached John.
“How may I help you?” She said in an overly heightened flight attendant voice.
“Is there any way that I can get a phone, so that I can call my wife. I need to tell her that I am fine and that my plane wasn’t the one that crashed.”
“We do have a phone that you can use with a credit card, but as we are having magnetic interference, the Captain has shut off the phone until we think that it is safe enough to use. We apologize for any inconvenience.”
John grumbled slightly, “When are we going to land.”
“We will be landing shortly.” the flight attendant said walking away.
“That means as soon as they clear wreckage from the runway.” John muttered under his breath.
He should have landed hours ago, except that there had been reports of weather related air accidents in multiple airports shutting them down. Abbotsford, Victoria, Vancouver, they had all been shut down. Airports in Seattle, Washington had also experienced similar problems. Not that they could land there with the US Border being like it was. It was like Armageddon had happened and he was stuck in the air. He didn’t know what was going on.
People, like John, were pretty angry. The longer that they stayed in the air, the greater chance that they wouldn’t be going home at all.
“Are you sure that there isn’t another airport that we can land at?” a young blonde woman three rows over asked impatiently.
“For the last time, no.” the flight attendant said as stress showed for the first time, “We are doing all that we can, we have no choice but to wait.”
“What do you mean no?” the woman asked.
“I’m sorry for all of the inconvenience,” the flight attendant began, “But we can’t land because we don’t have clearance to land.”
“Let me talk to them, they’ll give me clearance.” the woman said egotistically.
“They can’t give us clearance because of the accident at Vancouver International Airport.” The flight attendant said, “Listen, I don’t know any more than you do.”
News reports flashed on the TV’s screen. It showed more fiery wreckage.
The woman suddenly got very worried and very pale. It was if she was either smarter than she looked and put it together, or she was reading the flight attendant’s mind.
“Don’t worry. They’ll clear off a runway soon and we’ll be able to land in no time at all.” the flight attendant said.
Suddenly everything went dark and silent. All of the lights went out and the engines sputtered like a ten year old beater on its last legs. Then they died completely.
“Oh fuck.” John said as he pulled his seat belt tighter.
“What the fuck is going on?” the blonde screamed.
Other people began to scream as panic filled the airliner.
“Emergency positions!” the flight attendant yelled.
The plane started to vibrate fiercely and the flight attendant was thrown right into the blonde woman.
The jet suddenly smoothed out. The echo of teary-eyed kids filled the tiny-tin death trap.
The flight attendant got up off of the blonde woman, “Keep calm, we have everything under control.”
Then the airspeed dropped. The jets altitude plummeted as the jet nosedived towards the towering skyscrapers below.
The flight attendant was lifted off of the ground as the plane dropped.
“Oh fuck! I don’t want to die!” she screamed.
She hit the floor of the cabin and slid down the aisle head first.
John reached down and grabbed the flight attendants ankle. The force pulled him toward the seat in front of him. His head hit the seat and he grunted in pain as his shoulder was nearly dislocated.
John gritted his teeth and said a silent prayer to whoever listened.
The flight attendant’s skirt flew up revealing a sexy pair of black panties.
She pushed the skirt down with one hand, trying to cover herself. She grabbed hold of John’s arm with the other hand. With a grunt, John released her ankle and grabbed hold of her wrist. She quickly corrected herself.
“You okay?” John asked.
“Yah!” She said.
The flight attendant grabbed hold of the seat in front of John.
The jet screamed down towards the towering skyscrapers. Slowly, the jet started to tilt up towards the horizon.
But it was too late. The jet had dropped seven thousand feet.
John saw an office tower fly by his window. Its occupants looked scared and shocked.
“Oh fuck.” John said, “This isn’t good.”
Another office tower flew by his window. It narrowly missed the wing by a few feet. The jet missed a third tower by dipping its wing tip.
The jet rocked the other way. The right wing sliced into a tower, like a hot knife cutting through butter. The wing smashed its way through glass and steel. It sliced deeper into the glass tower. Desks, people and a multitude of random debris were smashed and pushed out of the way.
The wing collided into a concrete pillar. The force of the crash turned the jet and caused the fuselage to smash into the building. The wing stopped dead in its tracks.
John yelled and prayed as the jet smashed through the corner of the tower and out into the air. The right wing, however, broke off from the fuselage and stayed inside the tower. Its fuel tanks poured out liquid death into the tower.
The jet dropped down towards the ground, but before it could hit, it smashed into a tower across the street. The left wing smashed into the building, ramming the tip into the elevator shaft. The fuselage bounced on the concrete floor ripping the left wing clear off. It skidded along the floor and smashed through the glass on the other side of the building. It slid into the open space between buildings.
On fire and broken, the jet dropped to the ground in a flaming ball of jet fuel.
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