The Man, The Myth, The Legend: Quakeguy
You know him and you know you love him. There's one question:
Who is he?
When I think about what it is that makes Quake still capture our hearts like no game since, at first there's not a whole lot that comes to mind. It was a rushed game, with base maps and Doomish weapons tossed in at the last minute to hold together a fairly pointless menagerie of Knights, Ogres, and beasties that aren't quite alien and aren't quite demonic. And yet it feels complete, and you feel like you belong. So how does it pull that off?
I discussed this at length with Kell, and we hit on an idea. Take the assortment in Half Life - every monster seems like it was designed by a different person. There's brown humanoids that shoot lightning, yellow three legged dogs with compound eyes that fire whiny sonic pulses, dangling mouths with long tongues that snare you from above, flying sheikh-brains that shoot plasma balls, facehugger amalga that turn people into zombies, the end boss was a big floating fetus, AND they piled US-Mil human AI on top of all that.
The reason it works is that you're already sold on it when you see it. The tram ride and the just-another-day-at-work-but-not first act put you in Gordon's shoes so fast and so effectively that you want to play the role. So when the houndeyes are yipping and sonically pulsing, you don't think 'what are these things? what a stupid game,' you think, 'what are these things and
where could they have come from?'
Quake also manages that - it makes the world real by making the player
... well, someone. Quakeguy DOES have an identity, and we all know it's there. It's been expressed in countless Q1SP's that allude to an identity that was never really planned or expressed overtly - in Contract Revoked you are 'a slipgate warrior of great reknown.' In Bishop's Bane you're the nameless hero of Domino's blighted kingdom. And, of course, who could forget:
http://lunaran.com/files/phil.wav
So who is he to you?