I haven’t been talking as much about the 8-bit era lately, specifically the NES. How can we not keep coming back to the NES? To many (maybe even most) retro gamers, the NES is the iconic console of the 1980s, and it was certainly the beginning of a golden era for the hobby. It had a remarkably long run when measured in the span of time during which games were released for it; over 700 titles were produced, not counting unlicensed games, from ’85 to ’95. That’s a full-bodied decade-long reign.

Long Story short, we’re gonna go on a three-article grab-stravaganza. I’m going to talk about three games per article, all randomly picked from the NES library, and we’re gonna show the little grey box some love, like we should.

Flintstones: Surprise at Dinosaur Peak

Taito, 1993

I played a couple of these Flintstones joints for the NES (yes, there are multiple), but this was probably the most decent one. In This one you play as Fred and Barney, between whom you can switch a la Castlevania 3, as they set out to find their dumbass caveman kids who wandered off.

The severe drawback this game has is that it was made in ’93, yet its audiovisual presentation seems more like 1986 NES fare. Not that this is a huge problem, but come on, Taito, you’ve had time by now to figure shit out and you’ve also made some games that don’t look like shit. The color palette is criminally underutilized, even for a game based on a cartoon, and the sound is almost 2600 quality. What saves Dinosaur Peak is that it’s a great platformer from a play and design standpoint. The ledge-grabbing thing is something a lot of otherwise cool games could have benefit from, and there are actual pros and cons to both playable characters. Fred’s a basic bitch who just swings around a club, but he can hit really hard with it, and Barney’s got a weak little slingshot, but he can use it from a safer distance than Fred can swing. The cutscenes… well, I can see that they put effort into telling an actual story, but the cutscenes are kind of weird and boring. I can forgive this easily, because like I said, at least they’re playing at a storyline. They just could have not bothered, really. It’s the goddamn Flintstones.

I’ll drop Flintstones: Surprise at Dinosaur Peak a 6 out of 10, because it’s fun to play despite looking like a grade schooler drew it.

Section-Z

Capcom, 1987

Y’all know how I feel about shmups. They are very much my shit. I sometimes load up an emulator to play a few when I can’t sleep, and the pure dopamine release lets me sleep after. Section-Z is a great example of an earlier member of the genre really going the extra mile. It also stands as a fantastic example of an arcade port losing none of its playability in translation, at least as far as I’m concerned.

You play as an astronaut who’s out to destroy an alien base led by a creature called the Bangalool. Don’t look at me, I didn’t name the fucker. Beautifully, that’s really all the plot we need, because this game kicks ass for its time and the genre it most fits in. The best part of it for me is the way you move through the game. You do a lot of linear movement and standard dodge-and-shoot, sure, but you’ don’t just fly offscreen at the end of a section. You’ve got to move through a series of teleporters to get to the section boss. There’s also that great front-and-back action, combined with variably-paced speeds for different areas. The game also looks great, because Capcom knows what the hell they’re doing. We’re not looking at much more complex palette use than the Flintstones since it’s 1987, but there’s an appropriate amount of implied detail to the backgrounds and a great variety of baddies and bosses represented. The music’s pretty kickin’ too.

Section Z gets an 8 out of 10. I’d forgotten about this bad boy and was glad to rediscover it.

Sword Master

Athena, 1990

I’m not gonna beat around the bush: this game fucking rocks. I watched the opening cut scene and was blown away. Prime example of a game really milking everything it can out of the NES’s capabilities. You play as a warrior who’s on that stereotypical save-the-princess routine, except this time you really are a hardcore nonstop bam-bam baddie destroyer.

In true old-school fantasy fashion, you’re a skilled swordsman – one might even call you a master – pitted against all kinds of gargoyles and skeletons and shit, and some of the enemies even require you to stop your progress and carefully out-duel them to the death. Once you get used to how fucking sly some of these monsters can be, it’s a lot of fun to play. Sword Master has solid graphics, especially in the cut scenes, but also featuring parallaxing and fairly crisp, well-defined characters. This game’s music is even gnarlier than Section Z’s. It’s almost headbanging good.

Sword Master also gets 8 out of 10. It is old school heavy-metal fantasy goodness in distilled form.

I will see you in a few days for part 2 of this NEStravaganza (I actively cringed while typing that) when we knock out three more games! Stay Retro!

The beat ’em up was (and to some extent, still is) an extremely popular game format. The concept may sound repetitive on its nose – that is to say, you mostly just walk forward and beat the shit out of people – but it’s been done in so many ways, with so many embellishments and extra touches, that it hardly gets old if you’re a fan. Like a lot of us, I was primarily exposed to this genre through either arcade ports or original titles for the Mega Drive/Genesis. Now, as I’ve discussed in some previous articles, we definitely didn’t get the bulk of Japan’s weird stuff then, but we did get some gnarly-ass console games… one of them being Mystical Fighter.

This weird but fantastic entry into the Genesis beat ’em up library was called Demon King Renjishi in Japan, hitting shelves in October of ’91. Very soon after, it was released for American audiences as Mystical Fighter. Its developer, KID Corporation (defunct as of 2006), is also known for developing Burai Fighter and Low G Man. Taito published the game, lending its name to the wide distribution and classy packaging.

Aforementioned classy packaging. JP (left) and USA (Right). Click to enlarge.

The plot of Mystical Fighter is based loosely on Japanese myth, and I do mean loosely. An evil “Lord Kabuki” is all set to conquer the kingdom after kicking the asses of White Lion (not the band) and Red Lion (I also promise this has nothing to do with Voltron). A mystical seal on Mt. Fuji is broken, setting the two warriors loose again to take a second shot at stopping Lord Kabuki… and the players control one or both of them as they try. The US manual’s translated version of the plot is below:

The first thing one notices as the game kicks off is that, while a little stereotyped-sounding, the music is awesome. It’s got a serious beat, and it’s not just some innocuous background loop. The ol’ YM1612 is put to beautiful use, something which this Segaphile will finally admit does not always happen. The graphics are also very fitting for the theme, evoking the dark and ephemeral world you’re supposed to be traveling through to stop the evil lord. The contrast your two characters – who look pretty damn kabuki themselves – also plays a well-conceived role in establishing the tone. It’s suitably heroic, even if understated. Normally I save an appraisal of these elements for closer to the end of a game article, but I wanted to put them right out front because I find them particularly impressive in Mystical Fighter.

This isn’t to say that the action is lacking. This game has every bit of the jaw-breaking, shit-kicking intensity that Streets of Rage or Golden Axe have. I’m sure there are folks who would disagree with me, but just look at the moves you can do! I’m not knocking Streets of Rage, but Axel cannot grab someone by their lapels and full-on hurl them entirely across the screen in a horizontal line. Mystical Fighter is its own animal, and it’s one with a mean temper. The sound effects that go along with your crazy leaps and attacks only add to the feeling of overall mayhem.

One guy goes flying in a laser-straight line toward the edge of the screen while another prepares to taste my creepy white foot. Once you get used to the controls, it’s like playing as a brutal circus acrobat or blood-crazy gymnast. 

There is a mechanic similar to that in Golden Axe, however, where you pick up scrolls (as opposed to potions) to save up for devastating magical spells. The more you pack up, the better the effect. You get to use those moves on an army of sumo guys, ogres, undead samurai, ninjas, and some bosses that are literally out of this world. The enemies may look like fat guys in bathrobes and clones of E. Honda, but don’t be fooled… everyone and everything you encounter is dangerous enough to take seriously.

I did find that some of the boss fights are pretty easy though, once you figure out the fairly predictable patterns. The big dog (lion? I don’t know) thing at the end of one of the first levels stands out as a good example of this. Just punch it in the face and get out of the way. Keep doing that and you’re golden.

He looks way scarier than he is, which isn’t very.

My attention span is admittedly horrid, so I haven’t beaten this game, but I do plan to revisit it. I give Mystical Fighter 8/10; it’s better (in my opinion) than other reviewers give it credit for, it’s got its own incredible flavor to it, and it promises high-flying fun.

Thanks, folks! See you again in mid-June! Stay Retro!

I’ve been reading a lot lately about the video game developers who were active in Japan in the 1980s and early 90s, and I’ve learned some of interesting stuff. A lot of it has to do with these companies’ origins and beginnings – some of which differ greatly from what one might assume. Taito, for instance? You know, the very Japanese corporation that gave us Bubble Bobble and Operation Wolf? That company was founded in 1953 by a Russian Jewish immigrant named Michael Kogan. What began as a distributor of amusements during post-war Japan’s recovery would grow into one of the most prolific developers of 1980s and 90s gaming. Kogan had proved that being adventurous can really pay off.

In 1987, Taito hit the world with a truly badass barbarian who would heartily agree with that sentiment. Rastan Saga (or simply Rastan outside Japan) was released to arcades as a kit; existing cabinets could be converted with a little bit of work into Rastan cabinets. Taito released the game this way not only to save money, but to hedge their bets; by not using a dedicated cabinet, the company stood to take less of a hit if Rastan failed to take off.

The marquee slide from the conversion kit, featuring Rastan enjoying one of his favorite hobbies: choking the shit out of pterodactyl-men.

This skepticism, while wise in theory, proved unnecessary in practice. Rastan did well domestically and in America, but took surprising hold in Europe’s market. It spawned a truly prolific set of ports for nearly every European home system of the time. Rastan was ported to the Apple IIGS, the Amstrad, C64, IBM/DOS, the Sega Master System, the MSX2, and even the garishly-hued ZX Spectrum. Later on, it even received a Japan-only port for the Sega Game Gear.

A badass poster promoting the MSX2 version, which depicts Rastan, to quote McCartney, “comin’ down fast from miles above you.”

In the long and noble tradition of 1980s pop culture barbarians, our protagonist in this hack-and-slash adventure tale is Rastan, a ripped dude in a loincloth who bears an absolutely uncanny resemblance to Robert E. Howard’s legendary Conan character. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, I suppose. The storyline exposition is left out of the Western version of the arcade game, but Rastan is out to slay himself a dragon. See, he made a deal with the princess of the land of Ceim: dispose of the dragon, and get paid ALL OF THE KINGDOM’S TREASURE. Either Rastan is one hell of a bargainer, or the Princess could use some work at it.

100% absolute clone of Conan the Cimmerian. Well, except for the fact that his vertical leap is about thirty feet.

The game begins with Rastan dropping from an unreasonable height into the first level, where you can immediately begin slashing through monsters and making your way across the game world. Rastan is pretty athletic, not to mention acrobatic; his prodigious leap is an essential tool for getting around and can also be used to get the drop on enemies while minimizing the risk of reprisal. Clever combat is worth considering, since the variety of enemy monsters in Rastan looks like someone held a Dungeons & Dragons Monster Manual over this world and shook it until everything fell out. Lizard men, undead wizards, an astounding volume of dog-sized chimaeras, and gargoyle swordsmen make up a small sliver of the creatures trying to end your quest with a trip to an early grave. Thankfully, in addition to being a huge badass, Rastan also has periodic access to some power ups found throughout the game’s environments. While most of them only work for a limited amount of time, all of them are worth having. Armor (something Rastan should should have thought about while getting dressed for this trip) can help absorb some of the punishment you’ll take. There are three different weapons, too: a mace, an axe, and the sword you start with. There are also potions, but beware – Taito decided to be shitheads and make some of them deplete your health instead of restore it!

I was gonna think of some joke to crack, but I’m at a loss. This shit just may be too awesome to joke about. Rastan is a murderer born. These three screenshots speak for both the game and the character.

One look at any screenshot or video of the arcade version will tell you that Rastan was well ahead of its time in 1987. The level of detail and the color depth are astounding, and animation is very smooth. Rastan‘s movements are especially fluid, which really enhances the playing experience. Most ports don’t reproduce it fully (or at all), but the weather even changes over time in the arcade original. This is done very smoothly and gradually, and adds a subtle but noticeable layer of visual richness to outdoor levels. The sound effects, while far closer to average for the time, are still well done. Rastan‘s soundtrack isn’t very populated, but this shit is definitely barbarian music! The soundtrack gets faster as you get closer to dying, which is another little touch that makes the game more intense.

In addition to its above-mentioned ports, Rastan was eventually released as part of Taito Legends Vol. 1 for the PS2, Xbox and PC in 2006. There were also two proper sequels; Rastan Saga II (Nastar in North America) was released in ’89, While Warrior Blade: Rastan Saga Episode III came out in 1991 and was more of a scrolling beat-em-up.

The unbelievably epic flyer art for Rastan Saga II.

I gladly grant Rastan an 8 out of 10. It’s really fun to play, visually impressive for an arcade title of its era, and there’s nothing like playing as a barbarian who hacks up monsters.

See you at the end of January!

It could be said that if you wanted to make a good profit with a video game, be it now or in the 80s or 90s, the “dragons and wizards” angle has never been a bad way to go. This is a culture that embraced Conan the Barbarian in film 46 years after his original author-creator’s death (the film came out in ’82, while Robert E. Howard died in 1936), and it’s the same culture that’s currently obsessed with Game of Thrones. My personal favorite medium for the genre, Dungeons & Dragons (which I never fail to mention whenever there’s even a remote reason to), is in its 5th edition of rules and still has a strong base of adherents. Barbarians, trolls, demon princes, and magic swords are perennially totally cool.

Ad for the TG-16 version, complete with absolutely lush fantasy art.

So is Cadash, a game I’d only heard of in passing, but that was mentioned to me in a recent conversation by a friend who has a distant interest in retro gaming. “If you’re into D&D but you like Golden Axe, too,” he said, “check out Cadash. It’s basically a mix of both.”

He wasn’t entirely on point, but his heart was in the right place. Cadash hit the arcades in 1989, so it was kicking around them the same time I started to; what surprises me more is how I missed the Genesis port in 1992. It was also released for the Turbo Grafx 16, which is how I recently subjected myself to it (since nearly every MAME32 emulator runs like utter shit on my computer). It’s a pretty fantastic game for its time, combining elements of the RPG and the platformer with some gnarly graphics. It’s got some pretty good sound to boot, but the arcade version seems to come out ahead in that regard.

From the intro of the Genesis port. The King demands that you kneel, but it’s no big deal if you have your sword out.

Cadash‘s story isn’t very complex, and you really wouldn’t want it to be: A demonic warlock born of a human woman has rallied the monsters of the underground kingdom, who have never forgotten their banishment by the humans. The overworld is nearly in ruins, and this warlock (called, with various spelling variables in the three versions, the Balrog) has kidnapped the daughter of the King of Dirzir to use in a ritual that would truly solidify his evil power and doom the human world. Of course, in the custom of video game RPG kings, the ruler of Dirzir has promised you his entire realm if you can save his daughter and finish the Balrog once and for all.

The 4-player cabinet. Ideal for corners, I guess.

The arcade version, if configured the right way, could handle up to four players, but the console versions were 1-2 player games. The players choose one of four classic fantasy RPG roles: the fighter, mage, priestess, or ninja. Each one has its ups and downs, but the game’s pretty approachable with any of the four. Single players might have a better time with the priestess though, as she’s got a good reach for her weaponry and a lot of defense-oriented powers. The fighter and the mage have a lot of offensive power, although the fighter’s much better early on and harder to kill. The ninja’s, well, a ninja. He moves very quickly and has some neat tricks up his sleeve. Sadly, the Genesis port has only the fighter and the mage, so if that’s how you experience Cadash, I hope one of those suits you.

Fighter has perfectly conditioned and brushed hair, but not one stitch of armor to speak of. At least everyone else brought their shit, Fabio.

Regardless of who you pick, you use gold from slain monsters to gradually beef up your equipment, and your capabilities increase as you gain levels as well. All of this progress is fueled by killing monsters, but you can’t just wander idly and do that all day (at least not in the arcade version)… there’s a time clock you have to keep feeding. This can be done with rare item drops or by dumping heinous gold at shops where you buy other stuff. This element adds another layer of strategy to the game, where a player or group must measure the clock against their need to level-grind. There’s not really a dull moment in Cadash.

Screenshots from various versions, offering a sample of what’s constantly trying to murder you beneath the ground. Click to enlarge.

The five areas of the game represent the already-conquered territory of the Balrog’s forces; you must fight your way through all of this, and not always in the most linear way either. For instance, at one point you have to double back and save a mermaid from a kraken to get an item that lets you breathe water… and then you can keep moving ahead by swimming through a flooded area. All said, none of it’s very confusing, and the action’s pretty engaging. You can swing your weapons in various directions, which is handy since there are a lot of foes who will come at you from above or below. A lot of the monsters bear superficial resemblance to the orcs, goblins and other standbys of fantasy media; others are just weird. You move through environments mundane and strange, from caves to villages to places where the whole floor is just crunched-up bones. The world of Cadash has heavy hitters too; periodically there’s a boss monster waiting to add your name to the hero obituary.

Satan’s seen worse than your Mardi Gras beads and your nightgown.

The graphics are very crisp and colorful, and seem to translate well to the console ports with very little loss of vibrancy. With an original palette of 4,096 colors, it’s not a drab game by any measure. Cadash also has decent sound, although SFX are sparing; the music is respectably well done, but sometimes seems a bit meandering. Some loops can even be a bit maddening, but that almost seems appropriate. Nitpicking aside, it’s worth exploring the soundtrack for the handful of good tunes in it.

Cadash merits a strong 8 out of 10. It’s a title I’m sorry I missed in arcades, but the gameplay I’ve seen for the arcade original leads me to believe that my experience on the TG-16 is pretty authentic. It’s a great melding of action and RPG elements, it’s got a lot to keep players engaged and sweating, and its over-the-top fantasy elements make it memorable among its contemporaries of the time.

Thanks, RetroFans! See you later in September for more!

 

 

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