Vandal Hearts – A bloody good time – Games From The Black Hole

Year: 1996 | Publisher: Konami | Developer: Konami| Original format: PlayStation | Version played: Saturn

Vandal Hearts was the first tactical RPG I ever saw and the first I played. At the age of fifteen, I instantly fell in love with the genre and just a year later, it paved the way for my favourite game of all time, Shining Force III.

I often wonder what would have happened if my first exposure to the genre had been some other game. Would I have fallen quite so hard? Would I have continued to play more and more examples until, decades later, I’d played more than I could ever list? It’s impossible to say, but what I do know is that Vandal Hearts – an attractive and inviting RPG with gameplay that’s simple to learn and easy to enjoy – was the perfect introduction to tactics games.

I first discovered Vandal Hearts through my best mate at school, who always seemed to have the coolest new PlayStation games whenever I went round to visit. In this case, Vandal Hearts was one I’d never heard of anywhere else. No magazine reviews or ads, nothing on TV, not even a box on a store shelf. It seemingly came out of nowhere, which only added to its allure.

As I watched him play, I was instantly struck by two things. One was the way every enemy exploded into a crimson geyser of gushing blood upon death, raising both an eyebrow and a chuckle, it seemed like a fun and cheeky way to punctuate each victory on the battlefield.

The other thing that struck me was the tactical gameplay itself. The idea was instantly familiar and appealing to me. I’d grown up playing Chess with my dad, and as a pre-teen I’d invested dozens of hours into Warhammer. So the appeal of tactical turn-based battles was not lost on me.

I watched my mate play for weeks and as soon as he completed Vandal Hearts, I borrowed it from him so I could experience this fascinating new genre myself. And even though I’d already watched it through once, playing it was a different story. The weight of decision making was all mine, and it soon became apparent that my choices mattered so much that the battles could play out completely differently, and that making each of those little decisions was, for some reason, so much more fun than it had any right to be on paper.

Playing Vandal Hearts now, for the first time in over 25 years and with a lifetime of tactical victories under my belt, I’ve realised that many of the things that made me love this game are the pure fundamentals of the genre; the things that make all great tactics games sing; the knowledge that every little decision matters.

Where on the map do I place this unit? Do I push forward through the enemy ranks to quickly reach an objective and strike directly at their commander? Or do I keep my distance, out of range of incoming fire, and methodically take out each troop one by one? Do I cling to walls to protect my flank, or do I group everyone together for safety in numbers? Should I make use of the tremendous strength of my main hero and use him to cut through the enemy’s biggest threats, or do I hold him at the rear of my ranks to protect him from death and myself from a restart?

Every single little choice in Vandal Hearts represents a similar level of risk in which there’s no right decision, but some, in turns out, are more right than others. And when you do get them right, the feeling can be elating; a rush of blood, both onscreen and off.

Vandal Hearts wasn’t the first game to capture the appeal of tactical battles. Shining Force, Fire Emblem, Tactics Ogre and UFO: Enemy Unknown all predate it and boast the same appeal, but Vandal Hearts captures it perfectly, and builds upon it too…

One of the things I really love about this game is how the level design takes the basic premise and keeps adding new twists. Maps with limited walkways that funnel troops into tight, compromising spaces. Battles with an in-built time limit as you try to end them before an enemy reaches a goal or an ally comes a cropper. Bridges that blow up and fall into the river, forcing you to move quickly before you fall with them! Battles on a moving train, with carriages that start to decouple and trail off, taking anyone who happens to be standing there with them… These memorable stage designs not only keep the variety high, they repeatedly find new ways to test your mastery of the tactics.

Outside of battle, the choices are fewer but there are a handful of fun decisions still to be made. Story sections are thankfully kept to a minimum, with just enough dialogue to set the scene and introduce each new character to the plot. You can visit towns in-between battles but can’t explore them in the way you do in the RPG-like way that Shining Force does. Instead, they’re more like hubs in which to buy new equipment, speak to a few townsfolk, manage your troops and move on.

Character management is exceptionally light for the genre. With each kill comes experience points and level-ups, but you won’t have to fiddle around with any stats or skill trees. Instead, you’ll see your hit points go up, benefit from a vague sense of extra strength and, in the case of your magic users, unlock some pre-determined extra spells. The lack of RPG depth feels like a deliberate attempt to keep the game accessible and focused on the tactics. It keeps you in the action rather than burying you in menus, and yet the sense of progression is still strong.

The most meaningful choice you’ll have to make about your characters is how to promote them. After reaching level 20, you’ll be able to take a unit to the dojo in town and choose a new class to upgrade them to. With each promotion comes new skills and a new visual design – always appreciated in this type of game. Again, there’s no correct choice to be made here, but some are cooler than others. The option to upgrade some units so they can fly across the battlefield is a particularly fun one, and opens up new tactical possibilities.

At level 40, you get to promote again, this time without a branching choice, but it’s cool to see your characters reach their highest potential as you approach the final showdown. All of them, except that is the main character, Ash, who has a secret third promotion. The “Vandalier” class is teased in the manual in silhouette form and was also teased to me by my mate, who somehow remembered the secret decades on.

I never made it to Vandalier class back in ’97 and, well, I didn’t make it this time either, even with a guide. To earn the final promotion, you have to unlock and win a secret optional battle in each chapter of the game by completing a series of obscure objectives barely hinted at in-game. Mostly you’ll need to find hidden items within battle maps by examining conspicuous looking textures, then show these items to someone back at town before the dojo master lets you play a secret battle.

I’m certain there would be no way to know to do all of this without a guide but I like it anyway. The depth of secrecy feels like it’s in the same Konami lineage that stretches back to Maze Of Galious on MSX and would see players exploring an upside down castle in Symphony Of The Night the year after. It adds a sense of discovery and replayability that should feel obtuse but instead offers something more to strive for.

Even though I never made it to Vandalier – after discovering that I’d missed some key items impossible to backtrack to – I still really enjoyed the optional battles I’d unlocked along the way. As you’d hope, they’re a little bit different to the usual story centric battles and played more for fun. My favourite is the map full of treasure chests. Just one holds the key item while the dozens of others transform into mimics if you try to open them. Brilliant!

My failure to reach Vandalier class isn’t a big deal. It’s the journey not the destination, and the journey to rediscover this old classic was well worth it. Of course, it’s always a great thrill when an old game lives up to your memories but it’s an even greater pleasure to find Vandal Hearts has kept pace with its own genre. Yes, Konami’s long forgotten game has been superseded many times over in the past decades. It doesn’t have the advanced visuals (although I personally love its pixel textured 3D world and cartoony sprites) and its feature set seems quaint and basic by comparison to what we have now. But the sheer quality of its design, its pure tactical decision-making and imaginative level layouts remain just as compelling and rewarding to play as the best the genre has to offer today.

It’s not an objective set of features or gameplay mechanics that elevate Vandal Hearts above games made decades later. It’s about the subjective, intangible qualities… How do you feel when you’re agonising over a decision, when you secure victory against the odds, when you promote an archer to a sniper or when you cause a baddie to erupt in a glorious shower of comical blood? Vandal Hearts, as simple as it is, just feels good to play, and that makes it ageless.