Why Not?
Vahn16 may seem to be a totally plausible name — I mean, in an age where people who call themselves ”parents” will name their kid “Turok” at the chance to win a prize pack, Vahn 16 is hardly outside the realm of possibility — but my real name is Nathan Grayson. So, now that we’re on a name basis, let’s get exchange some basic info — or at least, the basic info that actually pertains here.I enjoy writing. In my case, that typically involves constructing sentences, and even paragraphs, about videogames. My prodigious talents are already being put to use at www.Worthplaying .com — I’m a reviewer — but why not have an outlet for my ideas that aren’t allegedly-objective criticisms of games?
Continuing with the “Why Not?” theme, I decided to post a paper that I recently wrote for my JanTerm class at Austin College. First, though, you probably want to know what JanTerm is. No? Then skip this sentence: JanTerm is essentially an extended break at Austin College, wherein students take only a single class that tends to have a very singular focus. The classes are, in the long-run, somewhat meaningless (they don’t affect GPAs or anything), so teachers give students a little breathing room in terms of what can be accepted as work. As such, I managed to use my JanTerm’s framework of “the Middle East” to write a paper about Assassin’s Creed (XB360/PS3). Note, however, that this paper is not indicative of my normal writing; actually, I’m quite dissatisfied with it. Despite my greatest wishes, I ended up cobbling the paper together in about two hours the night before it was due. Also note that this paper is only partially written in my normal style, so it’s kind of dry, in my opinion. With all that said, here it is:
“Edutainment” refers to a vaunted section of media (generally of the visual sort) that attempts to both educate and entertain its victi…I mean users. As evidenced by that statement, you can probably discern that edutainment tends to be an unsuccessful venture – failing to accomplish one or both of its stated goals. Nowhere is this more evident than in the medium of educational videogames. Ironically, however, where “hits” such as “Dora the Explorer: Dora Saves the Mermaids” failed, Assassin’s Creed, a game which was never really intended to be edutainment, succeeds. It tells the tale of Altaïr Ibn La-Ahad, one of the Hashshashin during the Third Crusade. But how deep does this tale run? Is it really as historically accurate as it claims to be? In examining the Hashshashin, within the game and without, we can hope to better understand the Third Crusade along with some surprising plot points in Assassin’s Creed’s story.
The, in this case somewhat titular, Hashshashin are generally acknowledged to have come into prominence around 1090. Initially, they were located throughout Iran and led by Hassan-i Sabbah. As Shi’a Muslims, their organization was almost immediately persecuted by their dominant Sunni brethren. Thus, they began to send “Holy Killers” after prominent Sunni leaders and their legend began to take form. But due to Assassin’s Creed’s place in the Hashshashin’s timeline, much of their earlier history is glanced-over in the game. The events of the game take place in 1191, so the Hashshashin had already established themselves as the quite a force by then. But Assassin’s Creed definitely knows about the period in which it takes place. The entire game is based around the fact that, at that time, Richard the Lionhearted had recently recaptured the port city of Acre. Due to the war between Saladin and Richard, the Holy Land is in a state of turmoil. Corrupt men are governing the area in place of the more competent leaders who went off to battle. That’s where Altair comes in. The head of the Hashshashin desires nothing more than to see the corrupt officials dead; that way, he can usher in an age of peace. Or at least, that’s what he says
.For what it lacks in basic history, Assassin’s Creed redeems itself in its knowledge of the Hashshashin’s methods. The Hashshashin were precise killers – their targets (generally Seljuk Turks) were all that mattered. In other words, casualties were not an option. As such, Assassin’s Creed actually penalizes the player for any casualties Altair may incur during his missions. Most obvious amongst those penalties: roaming soldiers will crowd around Altair like bugs around a bug-zapper, and their deadly, gleaming swords generally aren’t a good sign. And if you kill too carelessly, an unceremonious game-over screen will be your only reward, since the game “de-syncs” (a concept that will later be elaborated on) you for indiscriminant slaughter.
At the same time, however, the Hashshashin weren’t too keen on letting their victims’ deaths go unnoticed. In fact, they purposefully performed their killings in full-sight of many people. As soon as they completed their grim deed, they typically attempted escape, and if that wasn’t an option, they fought to the very end. Never did they commit suicide. As Altair, the player usually follows that series of events quite meticulously. First you must serendipitously approach your target, then, once all eyes are on the victim, you strike. Soon after your victim hits the ground, guards rush towards you. Unless you have the pugilistic prowess – and the fortitude — of an enraged bear, it’s best to beat a hasty retreat; since Altair’s story isn’t going to end until you complete the game, fighting to the – by which I mean “your” — death obviously isn’t an option. The whole thing sounds extremely linear, doesn’t it? But the game actually allows the player a fair amount of freedom. Some targets walk about cities or other areas; it’s up to you to decide when, and even where, to attack them. And how will you escape? Will you blend in with the veritable ocean of people meandering about the city, or will you daringly bound across rooftops with the physicality of the greatest of acrobats? The game really does simulate a possible reality the Hashshashin could’ve experienced – all of the thought and methodology is intact. The game’s developers created a framework in which the player completes assassinations; it’s a sandbox of sorts – not a glorified movie.
Google image search “Altair” and you’ll probably find many pictures of a mysterious hooded figure. Look closer, and you’ll notice a small blade extended from his left hand. Yes, that is a picture of Assassin’s Creed’s Altair, and that blade is his signature weapon. Similarly, the Hashshashin tended to utilize tiny, immediately lethal weapons foremost – no poison or anything of the sort; they did not allow their targets to escape, wounded or not.
Many people tend to believe that the term “Hashshashin” originated due to the group’s usage of hashish, a drug from the hemp plant. But many others dispute that claim, instead pointing to “Hashshashin” as a simple derogatory term meaning “of low class” or something to that effect. Assassin’s Creed’s developers took notice of this dispute and decided to side-step it altogether. In calling Hashshashin “Assassins,” the game becomes more easily accessible to non-historophiles, yet also doesn’t offend either side of the Hashshashin name-origin debate. Thus, another popular Hashshashin “legend” is absent from Assassin’s Creed. While more than likely an exaggeration of a tale from Marco Polo, some people believe the Hashshashin indoctrinated their members by first placing them under the influence of hashish and then transporting them to a garden that was essentially a simulation of heaven. After a couple of days, the prospective members were placed into a dungeon and told that if they wished to return to heaven, they had to follow Sabbah’s rules. Here again, this is more than likely a myth and nothing else.
So yes, one can potentially learn a significant amount of historically-accurate information from Assassin’s Creed if they so choose. But Assassin’s Creed contains quite an interesting twist that almost makes it a modern “legend” about the Hashshashin. In essence, you aren’t actually playing as Altair, but instead you are his descendant in the year 2012. An organization later revealed as a modern day manifestation of the Knights Templar – according to the game, the main rivals of the Hashshashin – has captured Altair’s descendant in order to force him to relive his ancestor’s memories. This is where the de-synchronization idea that I mentioned earlier comes into play; if you are killed or you choose to go against Altair’s apparent beliefs and goals, you’ll be forcefully tossed out of the computer simulation Altair’s descendant is utilizing to access his ancestor’s life. Through that simulation, the Templars hope to discover the location of artifacts with great illusionary powers – allegedly so great that they were the cause of many miracles mentioned throughout both human history and religion. As it turns out, the leader if the Hashshashin during Altair’s time was also a member of the Templars. He, in the past of course, was hoping to use the artifacts to unite Saladin and Richard the Lionhearted against the Hashshashin – thus bringing peace and power to the Templars. But Altair defeats him. According to Assassin’s Creed’s mythology, every major war and historical event since then has involved the battle between the Hashshashin and the Templars – a war for the artifacts. At the end of the game, Altair’s descendant is left alone as an actual battle begins to ebb and flow around him. What will happen between the Hashshashin and the Templars? That’s for the sequel to decide. It may sound odd, but the “legend” is surprisingly compelling, and once the revelation about the Templars and the Hashshashin is unveiled, you realize that it pervaded every aspect of the game. Yeah, a sci-fi plot about the Hashshashin actually works.
Assassin’s Creed somehow manages to strike a balance between education and entertainment – a balance even games that are made for that very purpose fail to achieve. Crazily enough, the game’s sci-fi twist doesn’t muck things up; if anything, it accentuates the historical side of the game by showing an instance where a partially-realistic history has major repercussions in the future. If only other games could produce results similar to those of Assassin’s Creed; maybe many uninformed outlets would cease to believe that gaming is some sort of devilry, and instead revere it as they do movies, music, and literature – a pantheon which videogames are finally ready to join.
And yes, I’m aware that the fonts in this post are all over the place; WordPress’ system for copying and pasting — which I used to bring my paper over — sucks in ways unseen since the last Uwe Boll flick.
