A Hint of a Tint

It’s been said that originality is often about taking already existing elements and then drawing connections between them that no-one else could conceive of. I’m generally cautious of putting much stock into anonymous wise words, but this is the one case I’m inclined to agree with. After all, Star Wars became a classic after liberally borrowing its plot structure from Kurosawa’s masterpiece A Hidden Fortress, but then adding proton torpedoes, laser blades and such until it became barely recognisable. A Hint of A Tint does the same with gender roles, biblical concepts, furries (or however else you wish to describe the "Flesh of the Tail" in the game) and time travel, a heady mix to say the least. And of course, it’s a roguelike on the top of all that, which carries its own set of risks. At times, I was afraid it might collapse under its own ambition, but thankfully, it pulls through and leads to one of the most unique experiences I’ve played, even if it doesn’t fully capitalise on its potential.

Storyline

So… I’ve listed some of the key thematic elements above. Let’s go back to the start and see the way it actually unfolds. A Hint of a Tint forgoes menu and goes straight to a short and cryptic conversation between two people we don’t yet know, set against the night sky. Then, our protagonist, a normal human girl called Mandy, wakes up and finds her room trashed with bloodstains, overturned chairs, etc. Now would be a good time to let the player orient themselves and get the feel of the place, to interact with whatever personal belongings she has and immerse themselves further. Instead, the cutscene continues as she walks out and through corridors for a bit longer, before finally bumping into an energetic cat person, who confuses her, and the player, further by treating Mandy by treating her as if she was just born, which obviously contradicts with what we’ve just seen. At this point, we switch storylines again to a pair of bee soldiers, and finally get to control the one Tyalinne, sent on a mission by the Queen of her Hive, and tailed by her supposed partner, Dyonne.

As you can probably tell, the opening segments could’ve had done with greater clarity and more deliberate pace. The initial gameplay-to-cutscene ratio is rather skewed in favour of latter, as you’ll get to control Tyalline for a couple of rooms at best, before being hit with a couple more cutscenes, a situation repeated a couple more times for good measure. However, the plot manages to pick up once its core rules (everyone local is a human-animal hybrid; they’re all female and the only available males are normal humans infrequently “created” with the Spawn Symbol; the only water is pink, and is undrinkable to normal humans) are firmly established, and Mandy, as well as the other human from the opening are paired with strong supporting characters. At this point, the pace finds its beat and never lets it go, while the dialogue becomes consistently good, reaching quality I haven’t seen in RMK games since Iron Gaia. So far, only that game and Hint of a Tint had dialogue I could easily quote alongside established works of fiction from other mediums, where a single line could instantly connect and invoke all the emotion it went for. If I had to pick a winner, Tint would probably be it, since it’s free of IG’s awkward cultural references and the out-of-place swearing of Iron Gaia: Virus.

I would be spoiling the fun if I were to quote any specific examples, but there are a few core strengths of the narrative. In spite of the overall fondness for cutscenes, A Hint of a Tint thankfully avoids flashbacks outside the game’s direct timeline and instead builds out the backstory of Mandy and her former relationship through subtler details in her dialogue. World-building is expanded in a similar manner, and it’s both interesting and is generally very good at being logically consistent. The time travel element does invoke something akin to a grandfather’s paradox on a global scale, but by that point I was too engrossed in the storyline to care. The way it gradually shifts from a relatively light-hearted affair towards an outright apocalyptic conclusion is astounding. Early on, the “no males” concept I mentioned earlier leads to what could almost pass for harem comedy, while the threat of dehydration from incompatible water is there, but doesn’t really register, as you’ll keep believing a solution will soon be found. Then, an energetic, sympathetic character suddenly dies, then another, and you’ll soon see that no-one is safe, regardless of where their storyline appears to be going and how sympathetic they might be.

To go any further would probably spoil the game at this point, so I’ll just list the highlights. The main antagonist is certainly one, who might just be one of the best vampiric characters in history. Another notable element is how I was able to predict a certain plot twist ahead of time, yet was still strongly affected when it actually happened (unlike A Blurred Line, where I was just annoyed when my prediction was duly confirmed). It’s a proof that you shouldn’t chase unpredictability ahead of cohesive writing, since you’ll end up with M. Night Shyamalan screenplay otherwise.

Aesthetics (art, design and sound)

The custom models used for all of the Flesh of the Tail (which there are a lot of), are the most memorable thing about the game. They all look very good, and are a far cry from the typical RMK sprites. Some of the character portraits in the survival mode are rather sexualised, but it’s understandable given the related storyline aspects. The dungeons also look very nice, although not much actually stands out, which is their only problem. Like in many roguelikes, the environments can be too indistinct.

One graphical decision that’s a little grating is that the game will always display two text boxes for every conversation, but they’re all done in the same colour, and it’s possible to get a little confused between them. Color-coded text boxes, like in Last Word or non-RM No One Has To Die, would have had been a nice touch, to avert something like this:



Part of the opening I mentioned earlier.

Sound effects used here all fine, though the effect used when your character drinks water is the only one that stands out. I also congratulate the game on including footstep sounds, though unfortunately it’s only the player character who makes them, with other characters’ movements remaining silent (then again, there might be some RM limitation against this I don’t know), and there’s the same “sandy ground” effect regardless of floor type.

To me at least, soundtrack is the best aspect of the game. There’s nary a weak composition in sight, although some of the level themes can be a bit insubstantial in comparison to the rest. The “sorry” track (i.e. the “final boss” one) is my favourite due to how well it fits the situation, although tracks like “argue”, “suppliant” or “pressure” are also excellent, and are outright soul-rending to listen to after you’ve finished the game.

Gameplay

A Hint of A Tint is a roguelike with a plot, a fact written with large capital letters on its game page. Anyone who knows what the term means will understand why, since the structure of a roguelike generally acts to maximise replayability at the cost of linearity, and incorporating any kind of a developed plot into their randomised structure is a huge challenge. It’s entirely unheard of, mind; last year gave us The Road Not Taken and its multitude of secondary characters and their storylines, while Sunless Sea went a lot further than most with narratively fleshing out its universe, although it still eschewed a central plotline in favour of enabling emergent narratives through its mechanics. However, A Hint of a Tint’s true kindred spirit is The Guided Fate Paradox and its recently released sequel, Ascendant Fate Paradox, whose randomly generated levels are interspersed amongst the many text cutscenes conveying the highly developed, even if somewhat silly, storyline.

On the whole, this approach works, but I can’t help but feel that it wasn’t utilised as effectively as it could’ve been. I’ve always maintained that gameplay should ultimately be there to enhance the immersion into the game’s world and increase the player’s interaction with the storyline. Tint’s gameplay succeeds at these counts, but it always feels like a lot more could’ve been done, and we’ll need to cover Tint’s mechanics in greater detail to see why. They’re closest to the classical roguelikes such as NetHack, though obviously simpler and closer to something like Derek Yu's Desktop Dungeon in difficulty. Essentially, the game is entirely turn-based, and most actions, including moving a single square on the map, consume a turn. There’s no pause between them, so exploration is little different to regular RMK games until you notice that other characters (nearly all enemies, although this can change) only move at the same time as you do, and freeze still when you’re just pondering the next action, and you’ll get a fair selection of things to do.

First of all, there’s combat, which, at its most basic, is the matter of outlasting your opponent by having more health, healing and/or inflicting more damage, since you’ll attack each other at the same time ( just like Desktop Dungeon, and unlike NetHack where attacks had a damage range and a chance of missing) You’re allowed to heal afterwards through resting (although others can still ambush you at that time, so pick resting spots carefully) and early on it’s enough. Soon, though, you come across stronger and more numerous Flesh of the Tail, and you’ll have to use your one Special judiciously (it has a recovery time, but a long one, and enemies have their unique ones too) and consider employing magical staffs and area-of-effect orbs, which’ll usually have to be identified first: you wouldn’t want to use Healing Wand on the Imp you were just wearing down, after all. For more reliable damage source, you can just throw anything you have in your inventory at the enemy, which is simple, yet reliable, and will inflict double damage in the back (same for melee attacks, but that’s rarely possible unless you attack the sleeping). Like in NetHack, throwing potions will instantly identify them as their effect will occur on the enemy: especially useful if you just considered drinking that magenta potion that ended up poisoning a Harpy in your path.

Alternatively, you can use the nicest option at hand, and bear gifts to those fighting Tyalinne. Every breed of Flesh of the Tail has their preferred item; gifting one will make them ignore you, and giving another one will outright make them fight for you. There’s still the matter of figuring out just what item do they want; while the setting’s upside-down rules provide a little guidance (i.e. cats like Bones, while Wolves will be friends if you give them Orbs), a lot of it is trial-and-error. Thankfully you’re not punished in any way for erring: if, say, Lamia wouldn’t accept a Wand, she would also not attack that turn, and so you can cycle through your 25-slot inventory until you stumble on the right item, assuming, of course, that you have it in the first place (and that no other enemies are present who would still attack you that turn). These limitations prevent “Give” from being an insta-win option, and it works just often enough to be useful, and if you’ll consistently befriend creatures of certain type, then all of them will eventually act friendly, which feels really rewarding. On the contrary, consistently butchering beings of certain type will eventually result in them moving away in fear at your very sight, although it doesn’t happen very often.



The first of the two "boss fights" in the game. I could've fought all these Harpies, but thankfully I had enough carrots to do otherwise.

Of course, there are also a few mechanics to do with non-combat stuff. Chief of them is the system of iron gates that serve as the main impediment to progress, keeping you in the level until you find the keys to them. I salute Tint for finally implementing keys that don’t just disappear after being used, but will stay in your inventory and open every door of the right type (and can be discarded/thrown at someone once the game informs you they’re no longer needed). Another important aspect is Thirst, which’ll fill up and eventually damage Tyalinne if she doesn’t drink at the fountains, which is a great parallel to the importance of water in the main storyline. There are also some clouds of gas and tripwire-triggered traps in later levels, spikes barring the way until you activate their respective lever with the right item, Doorways that allow for fast-travelling to earlier locations, Familiars that’ll give you some unusual bonuses as long as you carry them, etc.

All in all, A Hint of a Tint is certainly mechanically accomplished, especially for an RPGMaker game, and during its campaign you’ll rarely go through levels without encountering new things to do or examine. The only problem is, they still feel like game levels, as opposed to a part of a place called Sanctuary. Granted, it’s a common problem for roguelikes, but it’s still possible to overcome it; a Binding of Isaac (one of the best roguelikes ever and a great game in general) is a shining example of how it can be done. Having said that, the pretty, yet generic-looking rooms and corridors you get would’ve been forgivable had there been an approach more akin to something like Sunless Sea or Out There, where you’ll be able to encounter bits of actual lore, (whether about past history, currently living individuals or just certain cultural practices) during gameplay; as it is, there are many bookcases serving as mere wall décor, and a distinct impression that in spite of being fully sentient, Flesh of the Tail failed to develop much of a culture in their lifetime.

Same applies with NPC interactions; while the idea of Attack, Neutral, Love and Afraid states is great, it would’ve been even better if it was accompanied by at least some dialogue. If wounded enemies fled more often, accompanying it with actual cries of fear and begging for their lives, it would’ve had added immeasurably to the immersion. As it is, the combat feels really clinical, and at odds with the overall tone. There’s a similar missed opportunity with the death/saving; the game auto-saves when you enter the room, and reloads only if Tyalinne dies, not letting you load by yourself. It’s nice, but would’ve been truly excellent if the levels weren’t just pure gameplay, if you were occasionally confronted with a secondary-storyline narrative choice (whether scripted or randomised), knowing that you cannot reload and go back on it. It would’ve been worth it even when taking the ending into account.

Finally, and like I said before, Tint also has a non-storyline mode, where you just have the traditional goal of going through the levels and surviving to get as high a score as you can. It’s a fun distraction thanks to the relative strength of the core mechanics, and there are also a few extra items and creatures added into the mix, as well as ability to play as different characters, with their distinct traits and Specials.

Nevertheless, it lacks the requisite variety to match the best of the genre: there’s only so many times you can begin the level by cutting through the poor Kiznals and Tortoises before it gets old. Playing as Sonya, whose jump lets you forgo keys and vault over doors, also exposes the bizarre inability of other cats and flying creatures like Harpies to do the same. Of course, other enemies simply cannot go around doors in the first place due to only seeking the shortest route, and tortoises are vulnerable to backstab even though you would expect them not to. These design shortcomings are unfortunate, seeing how the AI is strong enough to competently use all the items you have access to, which remains rare in games to this day.

Conclusion

However, these shortcomings do not obscure the bigger picture. A Hint of A Tint is still a remarkable, criminally underplayed game, which pushes the boundaries of what our engine can do as well as adding to the still-short list of successful story-driven roguelikes. The only regret is that it really could’ve an unquestionable masterpiece with more integrated design, one that we could’ve been all proud of. As it is, it’s “only” a very good game.