Pc game /Grenade-free Team Fortress? Ain’t that a teatless Holstein (as the red-vs.-blue FPS’s hayseed Engineer would word it)? A refresher in two shakes lor the rusty: Each and every class in 1999s Team Fortress Classic packed pineapples and—Sniper excluded—a second, role-specific bomb. The latter individualized kits and gave the game a fingerprint identifiable in any suspect pool ultramobility on maps blueprinted to act as both runway and launching pad. To blow the lid on my bias, this is mostly a Scout- and Medk’s-eye view. But then these were “my” classes. If you played, you had yours, too, because just like an arcade fighting game—Sfreer Fighter II. Tekken. whatever—that’s how it worked. Nine years (as valve managing director Gabe Newell reminds us in Team Fortress 2″% rich commentary mode) is a whole hell of a lot of time to wear one pair of sneakers. No replacement’s a comfier fit no matter how much nicer it is.
Although an officially published follow-up to (he original Quake total-conversion mod called Team Fortress. Classic too was foremost the work of modmakers. the product of iibercore gamers writing code in a time at odds with today’s trendy all-inclusiveness. Then, privileging hand-eye Olympians was a target lo shoot tor. with today’s megabudgets and need to break even by appealing to wider audiences, it’s a taboo. So while TF2 doesn’t demolish entry barriers, it absolutely installs I ess-resistant paths. Now. for instance, the Medic asks that you smoosh a button sweep a first-aid hose in a buddy’s vicinity, and not much more. In addition, a new critical hit* feature multiplies attack damage at random, at times equalizing long odds. You read that right critical hits—what dungeon raiders and dragon slayers roll. No. these are definitely not my shoes. Or so I thought Forty-hours experienced at the time of writing. I no longer know what I did without em.
Even in the supreme skepticism of that reactionary day one not knee-jerk, just genuinely alert—I loved, loved TF2″% cosmetic makeover. “Cartoon come to life” isn’t compliment enough. Some cartoons are better animated, more distinctively stylized than others—and, by analogy this is among the best The game’s piss-and-vinegar crew snarls, winces, bellows, and sneers. From the Road Runner Scout to the Wile E Coyote Engineer, they backpedal and leap with human momentum, and their absurd flag quests and wall-to-wall bases become a kind erf Cold War Merrie Melodies. (To best appreciate the achievement here, think of the last online FPS of IT’S nature to visually justify its barbarians in gang-colored clothing with anything other than “outer-space blood sport” I’m drawing a big fat blank. Shadownin included.)
Before day one. I understood the wisdom in nixing frag grenades. Throw ’em when you’re near death. throw ’em anywhere anyone’s likely to be—they were always the stuff of wasteful carpet bombing as often as they were tactical aids. But by day three or four, even caltrops and concussion, nail, and electromagnetic-pulse grenades no longer seemed as necessary, five’s rebalancing and outright revamping of key classes works; each actor in TF2’s cast of nine owns his role with less overlap than ever. The football-like match flow is intact, too—Heavy Weapons Guys and Soldiers wrestle at congested lines of scrimmage; now and then Scouts and Spies slither through for Hail Marys (expressive in-game taunts substitute for high steps). And the metaphor stretches further: TFZ% maps are tailor-made for CTF, Control Point or Attack and Defend modes. In other words, no baseball on the gridiron, no football on the diamond (see Call of Duty, Halo).
I can’t hold truck with critical hits yet but honest to god. I’m Aft-Tabbing back in the second I finish this sentence www.allpcgame.net