by mrchup0n
The items in this list are responsible for the 100 most memorable gaming moments during my gaming lifetime, or at least, as best as I can remember them. (This feeble brain has trouble retaining things.) Where I couldn't find the entity in question, I resorted to just using the game from where it came.
Showing 1-10 of 30 items
After defeating Azala and witnessing the crash-landing of Lavos, the party steps through a time gate only to be greeted by a desolate, blustery ice age. The few people you encounter are huddled together in rags, starving and trying to keep warm. Along with the vision of the future, it's one of the most depressing moments in the game. Then, you stumble across a teleporter and--as the game starts playing a peaceful and beautiful Indian-themed tune--you're whisked away to a gorgeous floating kingdom with lush greenery and a majestic mountain. The absolute mood shift and unforgettable music sent shivers up my spine the first time I came across it; to this day, I still get chills during this moment.
The Game Boy Advance was the first--and only--videogame system I ever purchased before its U.S. launch. I put in an order with Upstate Games to import the blasted thing, and when I saw F-Zero Advance running--with a blazing sense of speed and beautiful colors--on a handheld system, before any of my other non-import-savvy vriends could, I was stunned. (Nevermind that I eventually became frustrated with that game.) I have a great time with every system I buy at launch, but because I got the GBA early, and it was the biggest leap from its respective predecessor, it will always be the most special unboxing to me.
The very first Fatality I ever saw was in a large dollar store in Flushing, NY on an original Mortal Kombat cabinet. The screen went dark, Sub-Zero reached over to his opponent's head, yanked hard, and removed the head--complete with spine dangling loosely below. It was gross. It was also awesome.
For many people, seeing how Soul Calibur re-invented the arcade original's graphics was mindblowing. For me, the opposite was the case. When I first saw Soul Calibur running on a projector after hours in the office where I worked, I swore that I couldn't see any improvements. That was until I went back to the videogame shop that had the Soul Calibur arcade machine in the corner to have a good look at its attract mode. God, was the arcade version ugly. Instead of seeing how much better Soul Calibur on Dreamcast looked at first glance, I saw how ugly Soul Calibur in the arcades was on second glance.
Final Fantasy Legend II was the first role-playing game I had ever seriously played, though I had dabbled with the original. My friend, who introduced me to the game, somewhat spoiled the last boss--The Arsenal--by showing me his savegame and all the crazy monsters you encounter in the last maze before the final battle. But it was this area, his party's stats and equipment, and the beasts he countered which sucked me into this world of strange monsters, magic and technology, and ultimately into a genre which I had previously cast off as dorky.
By all accounts, because of how much more lenient the timing is in Guitar Hero III than it is in Guitar Hero II, Jordan--the hardest song in the latter--is a tougher song to beat, and the euphoric feeling of completing that song is much higher than when it is when beating Through The Fire And Flames, the "last" song in Guitar Hero III. However, the moment of beating Through The Fire And Flames was more memorable for three reasons: 1) I had just come back from the gym, and my arms were (supposed to be) dead tired. 2) I did it with a friend watching while another friend was in the shower. 3) I did it again, on camera, after the friend in the shower was done with the shower so I could show him.
Believe it or not, Super Mario World was the first Mario game I ever beat. I never beat the original Super Mario Bros., Super Mario Bros. 2, or Super Mario Bros. 3 even. I got up to the last stage of Super Mario Land but a friend had to beat it for me. So, figuring out how to beat Bowser in that floating clown face was a triumphant moment for the little 10-year-old that was me.
The second Zelda game for the NES was drastically different, adding 2D platformer elements to its traditionally top-down structure. Link was jumping all over the place, and as if to emphasize this fact, the first boss character you face--Horse Head--was vulnerable only to strikes at his face. Horse Head, mind you, was very tall, and the combination of ominous boss music and the warped nature of a dude with a horse head made this--at the time--one of the most unsettling first boss experiences of my young lifetime.
Stage 5 of Double Dragon II--the bane of my existence, with disappearing platforms abound. This works fine for Mega Man, but in a game where the jumping is tight and the focus is on fisticuffs? It took me and my friend multiple playthroughs to finally get it down pat, and when I finally made it across and up the complicated pattern at the end of the level, my friend slipped at the last second and lost her last life. Bummer. But at least I made it.
Final Fantasy III (more properly, Final Fantasy VI) for the Super NES opened with one of the most memorable sequences in my experience. There's a slow introduction to our first protagonist--Terra--who doesn't utter a word, as the peons accompanying her talk about her (and the premise of the game) as if she's not even there. It then shifts to a slow, dreary trudge through the snow with the perfect music accompanying it (a depressing version of Terra's theme song) and--get this--opening credits. Not too many games by that time tried to open up with a credit roll like that. A big thing today? A big thing in hindsight? Maybe not, but at the time, it blew my mind from an aesthetic standpoint.