It Still Matters: Red Eclipse

The Games That Still Get It: Red Eclipse

Red Eclipse Still Rules, Actually

 

Every once in a while, you boot up an older game expecting to poke around for nostalgia, maybe wander through an empty server list, sigh dramatically, and go, “Yep. Another one lost to time.”

And then Red Eclipse kicks the door open, hands you a rocket launcher, and goes:

Nope. We’re still here. "go go go!".

Red Eclipse still exists. Not in a “technically archived on some dusty download page” way, either. It is still available through Steam, still free, still open source, and still downloadable outside of Steam too. The official site describes it as a free arena shooter with parkour, impulse boosts, dashing, mutators, and all the movement nonsense your little FPS goblin heart could ask for. Steam also lists it as free and open source, with no fees, no micro-transactions, and no loot boxes. Beautiful. Refreshing. Almost suspiciously wholesome.

And the best part?

You can still jump online.

Like, actually jump online. Server browser. Players. Movement. Chaos. The whole “wait, is it 2011 again?” experience. One minute you are casually checking whether the game still works, and the next you are flying across a map at unsafe speeds, panic-firing at someone who just bounced off a wall like a caffeinated sci-fi ninja.

Then, naturally:

Whoops, I KO’d my teammate. My bad. *Frantically press V x2 and hover over "Sorry!"*

That is part of the charm, really. Red Eclipse has that classic open-source arena shooter energy where everything feels fast, slightly unhinged, and weirdly friendly even when someone just pasted you across a wall.

And then there is the Big Gun™.

You know the one. The Rocket Launcher.

You see it sitting there, unattended, glowing with the exact energy of “this is probably going to become everyone else’s problem in about four seconds.” So, naturally, you grab it.

*Small evil-ish laugh*

Bwa ha ha.

I mean, really, someone just left it out in the open. That sounds like a map design issue, not a moral failing.

One of the tiny details I love is the voice-com toggle system. It is such a simple thing, but it adds so much flavour. Someone blasts you into the next postal code and then hits you with a perfectly timed “boom!” over the built-in voice command system, and suddenly the whole thing feels less like a sterile modern shooter and more like a ridiculous LAN party where everyone is five feet away from each other, yelling across folding tables.

That is the magic.

Red Eclipse has full-on “LAN gaming with the bros” energy.

Not because it is trying to be some massive live-service ecosystem with seventeen currencies, seasonal battle passes, and a login reward screen that looks like a tax form. It is fun because it is immediate. You load in, pick up a weapon, sprint around, mess up, learn the map, get better, get utterly destroyed in six ways, respawn, and try again.

Simple to pick up.

Fun to master.

No nonsense.

And oh man, the movement.

THE WALL RUNNING AND PARKOUR IS SO COOL.

That is not even me trying to be professional. That is just the correct reaction. Red Eclipse lets you move like the floor is lava... because it probably is!  Wall-running, dashing, impulse boosts, ridiculous jumps, sudden aerial nonsense. It all gives the game this wild arcade momentum where the map becomes less of a place you walk through and more of a playground you launch yourself across.

Which is exactly how an arena shooter should feel.

Also:

’Nade!

Sorry. Had to.

There is nostalgia here, sure. I am not going to pretend there isn’t. Red Eclipse absolutely has that early-2010s free PC game feeling. The kind of thing you would find, download, boot up, and immediately feel like you had discovered some secret underground FPS club. It feels like old forums, weird usernames, server browsers, custom maps, open-source weirdness, and the golden age of “wait, this is free?”

But the reason it still matters is not just nostalgia.

It still matters because it still works.

It is free. It is fun. It is weirdly alive. It has movement that makes most modern shooters feel like they are wearing wet jeans. It has personality. It has chaos. It has that perfect “just one more round” energy.

And sometimes, that is all a game needs to be.

Red Eclipse.

Yay.

Also, the latest version on Steam isn't too bad! It's really shiny!

         

What is 'Liero' Anyway? Let's Dig!

No seriously, digging is one of the main mechanics in the game.

Image sourced from Wikipedia 

Liero first came out in 1998. It was released by Finnish programmer Joosa Reikkinen for MS-DOS. The game was inspired by Worms, a turn-based artillery game. (We'll dig into Worms another time, it's a classic, too!).

An Instant Classic

Liero, sometimes differentiated from it's successors by calling it "Liero 1.33" or "DOS Liero" takes me back to the days of my IBM laptops. I had three different laptops over the years. You know the ones, 2.5 inches thick, weighed a ton and sounded like a jet engine. Liero can run on Windows 3.1, but it definitely works better on Windows 95 or 98. It also runs on Windows XP. My laptops were 3.1, 95 and 98 respectively. Each serving as a central Liero space at one point or another.
Picture it: It's a Saturday morning. Everyone's doing their thing around the house. From my room, can be heard the sounds of Liero. Floods of nukes that look like tennis balls for some reason. "Control missiles" that were the coolest thing ever, because you could pilot them with the directional keys, creating these giant circles of countless amounts of them. These things took "unleash hell" to a literal level. "Hey bro, watch this!" I hear, as I look to my left and see that iconic grin on my brother's face. The 8-inch laptop screen, with it's 1.5-inch thick bezel, flashing, lagging and the tinny little speaker doing its best to capture every explosion, shell, particle, gut splatter and the respawn timer. 

I'm not even mad. We're both bursting out laughing at this ridiculous game. We're tunnelling, digging and basically playing Minecraft before it was cool. Suddenly it's full-on Armageddon mode. The entire screen shaking like it's going to fall out of the bezel. The speakers causing the keyboard to rattle. We loved this game. Friends come over? We play Liero. Come inside for lunch? Let's take it to the computer and play Liero while we eat. Liero was a household word growing up.

Mind Blown

Even though Liero came out on DOS, and by no means had any kind of fancy graphics, it already captured our imaginations.  Those little earthen battlefields, randomly generated with each boot of the game (unless you used to janky level editor to create a specific map) were entire little universes. They were warm. They were safe (in the predictable way, not the floods of grenades way...). To this day whenever I see a Liero map, I feel warmth and familiarity. Who knew a game with so much pixelated destruction could also be comforting? 

Then, Along Came Liero Xtreme 

Our house wasn't the only place that saw Liero action. An entire online community bloomed and, with the author's approval, distributed several alternate and forked versions of the game. Liero Xtreme showed up around 2006, and quickly transformed into the still-loved OpenLieroX. These versions expanded on the original concept with a whole new engine capable of scripting and modding. Custom maps, skins and weapons galore, and online multiplayer! To this day, you can still open the game and quickly host a server instance. The community has mostly gone quiet over the years, but some dedicated players and small pockets still persist.

Just the other day, I had someone join my server and we played! It was awesome!

I recently stumbled upon this nugget where Albert Zeyer, one of OpenLieroX's main devs, explains that while there is still passion for the project, life and responsibility has moved into other things, so there isn't time/energy to focus on the game anymore. Rather than abandoning the project and letting it disappear. The source code has been directly published, and permission given to fork it and continue the project. 

So, now what?

I still cling to Liero. Not just for nostalgia-sake, but because I realize how this game and others like it inspire me to learn more about game development and pursue my own projects. I also still find great joy in loading up OpenLieroX or even Liero 1.33 and playing a few rounds. I've also been considering taking a crack at the OLX source code myself. If not to release my own version, to at least learn from it and gain an understanding of the inner workings of one of my favourite games. 

Want to join in on the Pixelated Dirt & Glory that is Liero?

https://www.liero.be/ <-- Official Liero Website
https://www.openlierox.net/ <-- OpenLieroX Website

 Check out the Liero/OpenLieroX websites, at least for starts. There's lots of other great community Liero content out there on the great, wide web! These sites have all kinds of resources for modding, custom weapon/map packs, server hosting instructions, and even running old versions on newer systems. Jump in, dig holes, blow stuff up and leave a comment about your own Pixelated Dirt & Glory.

Happy 20th, Club Penguin!

Happy 20th, Club Penguin!

In the year 2005, a game was launched that would go on to become a viral phenomenon, and a huge inspiration.

"Waddle Around and Meet New Friends"

Image courtesy of Global News Kelowna

And we did just that. Club Penguin became so much more than just a penguin-themed chat room — it was a world all its own. It was a goofy, welcoming place where you could eat all the digital pizza and ice cream you wanted while dancing at every occasion and in every place. You could dress your penguin in countless combinations of silly clothing and items. Club Penguin inspired creativity and fun through its awesome parties and events, which often tied into real-world celebrations and holidays. The Halloween Party is by far my favourite, followed by The Fair and the April Fools' Party.

Club Penguin sadly shut down in 2018, but as the saying goes, “Waddle On.” And waddle on, we do.

So, Now What?

*leans in close and speaks quietly* You can still play Club Penguin today... technically.

That’s right — through the power of what I like to call “the super-nerds”, the game’s legacy lives on in the form of private servers and fan-made spin-offs, keeping that 2000s-era internet community energy alive and well.

To avoid any potential issues with a certain large company that may or may not approve of these projects, I’ll refrain from posting direct links here. But all one has to do is Google “Club Penguin,” and you’ll find them. Some of these remakes stay remarkably true to the original, complete with monthly parties, familiar items, and those iconic mini-games.

What’s really neat is that the majority of players on these spin-off servers are the same people who grew up with the game. There’s an unspoken respect among the community — if you ask, “Hey, where’s the pin?” you’ll get a chorus of “Coffee Shop!” Just stay clear of the Pizza Parlour... the drama in there is exactly the same as it was all those years ago — which, while annoying, is also kind of awesome to see. People never forget something as unique and as deeply woven into daily life as Club Penguin.

Is that Thin Ice: Home Edition?

Let's go back to the mid-late 00s for a moment

It’s 2005, and it’s early November. The sky outside is grey and cold — even though it’s still early afternoon, it already feels like dusk. The computer lab is open as an alternative to spending recess out in the cool, dreary weather. You walk in and feel the warmth of thirty-plus computers whirring away, the monitors still CRTs with that comforting hum and glow.

Nearly every screen shows a snowy scene filled with colorful penguins waddling around. Club Penguin is all the rage (along with Robot Rage — but that’s for another day). The teachers groan, unsure what to make of these viral game phases that seem to come and go, but this one seems harmless enough. They give the occasional, “Your assignment is finished, right? Before you go on Club Penguin.”

The Club Penguin era during elementary school was something to behold. “Let’s go sledding!” someone shouts from across the room, and suddenly there’s a flurry of mouse clicks as a whole crowd of digital penguins moves en masse to the top-left corner of the screen, switching rooms.

There was a time — one that seemed like it would never end — when any computer, whether at school or at home, had Club Penguin on the screen. After school, it was always a race between siblings; whoever reached the computer first got to waddle around and try to tip the Iceberg.

So many cool mini-games!

Many epic wipe-outs on this hill!

Sled Racing was by far my favourite of the many games scattered across that snowy island. Ice Fishing, Find Four, Pizzatron 3000, and Cart Surfer were all must-plays.

Playing the mini-games earned you in-game currency — Coins — which you could use to buy clothing, puffles, and igloo furniture or upgrades. Occasionally, there’d be free items released during parties and events.

The scramble to collect those freebies was real! Before the era of DLCs and microtransactions galore, Club Penguin kept it simple: a $6.99 monthly membership. You paid (or rather, your parents did), and you had access to everything — all the clothing items, all the igloo décor, and all the upgrades.

As a non-member, you could only purchase player card backgrounds, penguin colours, and the classic blue and red puffles. But for those of us who grew up in low-income households, we still found ways to enjoy Club Penguin just as much without the perks of paid membership — and it was legendary.

The fan-made versions have full membership by default, which is a bonus!

I was dedicated!

I won’t lie — I spent a lot of time waddling around and collecting every pin, free party item, and player card background I could get my penguin’s flippers on. I’d sneak down to the computer first thing in the morning, long before anyone else was up, just to explore all the updates whenever a new party or room was released.

By the time we got to school, I had the rest of my class asking, “Where’s the new hat?” and crowding around my screen in awe. It was really cool. Club Penguin was its own little niche — a place of comfort and familiarity.

The Sad Part

As we grew up playing this goofy penguin game and watching it evolve, the world around us changed too. Games — like everything else — started becoming all about the money. Club Penguin was sold to that aforementioned very large company in 2007, and things began to shift.

While there were still plenty of cool new features, characters, mini-games, and places to explore, the game gradually started to take on that unmistakable corporate feel. Items that used to be free were now locked behind paywalls. Mini-games were chopped up and restricted by membership requirements. Even membership itself became a tiered system, with different levels offering different perks.

While clever from a marketing standpoint, it was a hard blow for the fun-loving, long-time fans. Finally, in 2018, the game shut down for good. The official version closed — but it was never forgotten.



Waddle On! & Happy 20th Anniversary, Club Penguin.

I’ll never agree with what that very large company did to the game. The original Club Penguin lives on in a special place close to my heart, preserved in memories of simpler times and snowy screens glowing in dimly lit computer labs. Every so often, I still log into one of those fan-made “super-nerd” versions for a binge of epic, nostalgic proportions — and to take in the Halloween Party, which, actually, starts pretty soon.

Halloween's Coming!

As a once-dedicated Club Penguin player, I couldn’t let the 20th anniversary pass without saying something — without giving this gem of a 2000s game the attention and credit it deserves. If you share similar memories or ties to Club Penguin, maybe take a moment to waddle back into one of the fan remakes... and of course, Waddle On.

Club Penguin in 2025! Happy 20th, CP!