Genesis Look - Dungeons & Dragons: Warriors of the Eternal Sun

 

With his castle under siege by the goblin army, Duke Barrik rallies his troops to make a final stand. All of a sudden, a tremendous force rips through his kingdom, and everyone is sucked into a void. While the goblins have disappeared, the castle has been transported to a mysterious realm. Now it sits under the light of an eternally burning red sun, with impassable cliff walls in every direction. The duke has tasked you to form a party of four adventurers. Under your leadership, they'll explore this unknown land in the hopes of finding allies to trade with. Expect danger, expect death, expect to reload your save when everything goes horribly wrong. This is Dungeons & Dragons: Warriors of the Eternal Sun, and I am already sick of saying the full title, so don't expect to see it again in this review.

Released in 1992 by Westwood Associates, this RPG provides the joys and pains of a D&D campaign, in a quaint package designed specifically for console gamers to enjoy. I can't help but recall my experiences with the Gold Box games that were released on PC in the early 90s. The two games that immediately spring to mind are Forgotten Realms: Unlimited Adventures and Dungeon Hack. Unlimited Adventures allowed users to create their own campaigns using a massive array of tools, sprites, and artwork. Its turn-based combat engine required strategic positioning. You'd move your party members around to directly assault the enemy, shoot them from afar with arrows and spells, or take a defensive formation to protect weakened allies. Dungeon Hack was basically a real-time dungeon crawler with randomized floors. Almost any foe could be dealt with by deftly moving around them, taking advantage of their slow response time to get some attacks in. Mastering this "dance" is required in order to survive fights with high-level fiends.

What the Genesis game does is mix the two in a manner that's feasible for a controller with only four buttons. Exploring the kingdom as well as the surrounding wilderness is done simply by moving the d-pad. Conversing with NPCs is accomplished by invading their personal space. Take some time to explore the castle, especially since it features a handful of dungeons hidden in the corners. Any and all indoors exploration is done via a first-person view. Besides the lack of a strafing, getting around is very easy. Anything noteworthy - such as items - are automatically picked-up, so don't worry about fumbling with a cursor or pixel hunting. The start button enters the camp menu, which encompasses everything from inventory management to resting. Provided their class allows it, your party members will immediately equip the best armor that's handed to them. Weapons and spells are assigned to the A & B buttons. This can be done via the inventory menu at any time, even during battle. The UI is really intuitive, allowing players who don't have the luxury of a manual to understand the basics. That said, familiarizing yourself with D&D fundamentals like resting to memorize spells and armor class (the lower the number is the better!) beforehand will be a big help. In short, Westwood did a great job here. 

Ah right. Before going any further, I should probably mention the four characters I used in my play-through. They were Flandre Duskrat the Fighter, Jennique Stokes the Cleric, Battle Bakraid the Magic-User, and Reika the Rogue. Yeah, I have a handful of OCs who tend to appear in party-based games. In fact, I believe I still have a screenshot from back when I used a few of them for a complete run of Baldur's Gate 1 & 2. 

Yes indeed. That's Flandre Duskrat, she's a Half-Elf / Half-Dwarf multi-classed Cleric & Ranger. I guess she's a pirate too, because why not. Okay but enough about her. The class-system in the Sega Genesis game isn't nearly as robust, but it does the job. A fighter takes the lead, wearing the strongest armor and swinging the mightiest blade. Clerics provide healing support and ensure that I'm not sleeping for 64 hours just to replenish 8 hit-points. Rogues specialize in spotting hidden doors and disarming traps... when they feel like it. In the original game, their "hide in shadows" ability was pretty broken, allowing them to practically solo the entire quest. I'm playing a romhack that fixes this. What the romhack didn't fix is the ridiculously good magic-user. Darkness can be cast on most any monster, causing them to miss all of their attacks. Tangle is even better, as it ties down even the mightiest of foes. I've slain a ludicrous number of red dragons with a basic level 2 spell. There are other classes like the Elf, who can cast spells and wear decent armor, but they're not really necessary. 

As I mentioned earlier, this is a D&D campaign on a cart. It's not especially lengthy but is designed in a manner that rewards the contributions of the four classes you've chosen. Everybody has a role to play, even if that role isn't properly realized for a while. The rogue, for example, isn't particularly useful for much of the adventure. For one thing, there aren't trapped chests to disarm. That changes when the party reaches the Azcan Temple, as its hallways are packed with dangerous traps. It's the rogue's time to shine! Well, sort-of. Sometimes Reika disarms a trap, but most times she can't be bothered. Thanks, I guess. On the bright side, there is something oddly strategic about finding safe areas to rest while in a dungeon. The party won't rest if monsters are nearby, so finding these "safe zones" is engaging gameplay. Also, saving the game isn't allowed in dungeons, which creates some very real tension later one when they turn into large multi-floor labyrinths. The means to revive dead characters are often in the least convenient places, like back at the castle or a magical puddle out in the farthest corner of a swamp.

The wilderness is where a sizable chunk of the game takes place. As far as overworlds go, it's pretty simple, with the areas you need to investigate located in three of the four corners of the map. Standing in your way are the occasional monsters, but mostly it's foliage; lots and lots of foliage. Sometimes, it feels like the simple act of walking is met with hostility. I'd spend an inordinate amount of time getting stuck on trees or having to make my way around stretches of forest to reach a destination. To be fair, sticking to the hardest to traverse areas ensures that enemies will almost never be encountered. In fact, if you really want to avoid a fight, you can just save your game the second you catch a glimpse of adversity. Load that saved game, and they'll be gone. 

If you choose to fight, then be aware that low-level D&D is grueling. It consists of hoping that your single-digit HP heroes aren't immediately clobbered by a light sneeze. These turn-based fights leave your weak heroes at the mercy of RNG. Grinding the 1 or 2 level-ups needed to keep the party out of the "immediate squish" zone is also tedious, because nothing in the vicinity is worth more than a few experience points. There are ways to minimize casualties, such as with the consistently underrated sleep spell, but sometimes we just want the easy answers to the hard questions. If you're up for it, there's a hidden dungeon that's packed with minotaurs. One of them is standing in the middle of a 9 x 9 room. It's a perfect setup, allowing players to circle around the horned foe while stabbing him repeatedly. Enemies respawn after leaving a dungeon, making this a primo spot to get those necessary early levels. Is it fair? Not really, but sometimes that's what winning a D&D campaign is all about. Sink or swim. Play to win. If the game allows it, then what's stopping me from exploiting it?

While equipment is generally found in the deepest corners of dungeons or behind secret walls, some of the best stuff can be bought, provided your level is high enough. Seeing as how ferocious red dragons are easily undone with a common spell, they're among the easiest targets to farm. A late-game dungeon even has one sitting just past the entrance. The catch of course is that anyone hoping to reach the level cap will have to slay hundreds upon hundreds of dragons, because 2,500 experience points doesn't go far when level-ups can require over 120,000. Hey, remember how tough the red dragon was in Capcom's Tower of Doom? Or the amount of preparation and setup necessary to defeat Firkraag in Baldur's Gate 2? Clearly, we should've called upon those Eternal Sun warriors. Considering the nonexistent effort required to destroy these overgrown flies, I suppose I shouldn't complain too much about the lack of experience points. Besides, reaching the cap isn't required to survive the endgame. If you're that adamant about it, then throw on a podcast or favorite band before getting your grind on. The music is good, but not "still listenable after killing the same enemy a thousand times" good. Admittedly, that's an impossibly high bar to clear.

This paragraph is usually reserved for nitpicks and complaints. Honestly though, I don't really have anything negative to say. Westwood took on the task of adapting a D&D adventure and nailed it. The story is mostly light, but offers some interesting twists, including one that was practically unheard of back in 1992. Both the overhead and first-person battle systems function quite well, especially so if you're actually invested in giving the enemy a fair fight. Even if you choose to break everything with overpowered spells, the adventure remains compelling thanks to its solid dungeon design. You might be able to dance around a foe with ease, but getting flanked or attacked from behind guarantees a quick end for your defenseless spellcaster, and it's a long trip back to the nearest priest. Dungeons & Dragons: Warriors of the Eternal Sun is a remarkable RPG for the Sega Genesis. 

Actually, I lied. There are a couple of issues. The inventory limit is quite small, resulting in a lot of item shuffling. Also, Wights and Wraiths can drain levels. Call me a hypocrite, but I don't think that's very fair. The only way to get that level back is to kill another hundred or so red dragons. 

Oh well.