Gameplay, not narrative, defines the game

In a recent issue of Game Informer, Mathieu Ferland defends the idea that Splinter Cell: Conviction is not a break from the Splinter Cell franchise by saying "I think there was a natural progression with the narrative."

I'm a fiction writer and a lifelong RPG fan, but I just don't buy that narrative ever defines a game. If a game was designed so that the gameplay is, not just heavily dependent on the narrative, but at its very essence little more than the progression of a story, then I might agree that narrative can define a game. But I have yet to play a game in which my primary interest is the narrative.

Call of Duty: 3 might come closest, and I played it for only 15-20 minutes before giving up on it. The game (the beginning, at least) was so dependent on cinematics that it felt like I was just going through motions to reach the next cinematic...and my impression was that it was a terrible game. If I want to watch a movie or read a book, I'll go do that.

This medium is about interaction. The narrative might be extremely important, but interaction will always be the core of any game. The more one-sided the game's progression (the more pace, plot, setting, and so on are controlled by the developer and not the player), the less it is a game.

The goals that make the most sense to me as a writer for games are:

• To design and anticipate possible player decisions, and accomodate that free will through gameplay trees, ala Deus Ex.
• To design a context for player actions: a world which demonstrates interest in player choices, rewarding/punishing those choices according to its own interests and concepts of right and wrong action.
• To provide elements with which the player may build (consciously or not) his or her own story; to build a world with room for creative, and not just explorative, gameplay.

I certainly believe that there are many admirable ways in which game writers may create a variety of narrative-gameplay combinations. But, ever since I played my first MMORPG (Everquest), the avenue which most attracts me, and which seems glaringly absent from the modern game library, is a central narrative theme...only moderately predetermined...surrounded and fulfilled by the spontaneous and creative narratives of individual players.

Player input, not the narrative that input may reveal, is the game. Dev-written stories extracted by the player will always be somewhat peripheral to core gameplay.

Partnership of medicine and games

I read an article earlier which referenced the many months of research into biomechanics necessary for the developers of the new Splinter Cell game to achieve semi-realistic, complex character motions. Knowledge of biomechanics is of increasing importance as the industry's bar for animation is raised.

In about a month, one of my little sisters begins an internship with the National Institute of Health as a bioengineering assistant. They'll be using a new MRI technology to study the deteriorating joints of persons with cerebral palsy.

Perhaps much could be gained by a partnership between the medical industry and the game industry in the study of biomechanics. By combining the physiological expertise of medical researchers with the programming expertise of game software developers, it seems both sides could benefit greatly. Game developers might provide medical researchers with improved software and interfaces, while physicians might provide game developers with insights into simulating true biomechanics.

Making progression actually matter

I've neglected this blogsite far too long, so I'm just going to go ahead and post one of the unpolished (and perhaps disunified) blogs I started in the past month. This is really a topic I'd like to put a lot more thought into in the future.





In his recent article on Gamesutra, Neil Sorens makes a number of good points. One of them is that the statistical progression many developers employ to portray character advancement does not translate into an affectual impression of advancement for the player. The player's character may get stronger, but so are his or her enemies. Abilities may become more powerful, but their relative effect remains constant, or even diminishes.



ESSENCE OF PROGRESSION

Game developers haven't been employing these methods blindly, of course. The same situations arise in many epic stories of adventure. Stronger protagonists face stronger enemies, the odds reverting to those faced during more amateur encounters. Yet there is a sense that the protagonists are growing. How? To answer that question, I'll use examples from the LOTR films.



Roles, not Power

Though growth in power does matter, the primary growth in literary and cinematic heroes occurs through the discovery or formation of identity through roles. Aragorn accepts a calling to lead those he feared to fail. Frodo, on the other hand, accepts a calling to leave the comforts of community in order to serve that community. Gandalf the Grey becomes Gandalf the White after demonstrating a willingness to sacrifice himself for others. Samwise defines himself through unwavering loyalty in the face of insurmountable odds.



Roles are necessarily relational. Other beings and the challenges one is faced with define one's placement within a context. So even in a single-player game, the player's capacity for growth must be viewed in the player's relation to other elements.So how has the concept of roles been translated into past games? Classes are the most obvious answer, but a class usually represents a combination of two factors.



The first is skills. In terms of gameplay, skills most represent one's inclination toward particular methods of engagement. A player may prefer sniping, firing a blaze of projectiles, or slow but powerful explosions. A player may prefer deception and luring, frontal assault, surprise attacks, ally direction, or environment manipulation.



The second factor is one's alignment within a group. This represents how one's skills and goals relate to those of others within a community and/or the community as a whole. A player may prefer scouting, leadership, advising, resource management, resource production, chronicling, or action assistance. This applies beyond the obvious example of online grouping. A character in a single-player game has specific relationships to the other beings of the gameworld.



NEGLECTED AVENUES OF ENGAGEMENT

These are relationships between the player-character and gameworld which are absent or rare in among the games I'm familiar with.



Shrinking the Skill Palette

In epic stories, heroes occasionally face opponents that can only be defeated by a reduced number of means. In The Fellowship of the Ring, the cave troll in the mines of Moria knocked the heroes about like vermin until Legolas finally brought it down with a single arrow expertly shot into the troll's brain. It's alright to present players with obstacles that negate player abilities, as long as (1) that obstacle may be circumvented (in the event of reasonable despair),(2) victory is accompanied by an impression of extraordinarily admirable accomplishment, and (3) it's not over-used.



Resurrection

Heroes occasionally face opponents that can only be defeated temporarily (incapacitated, banished, etc.). Sauron returned from a prior defeat, because total victory over him required multiple conflicts to be resolved. It's alright for enemies to recover from defeat, if (1) the reason behind that recovery is clearly evidenced and (2) the player has a means of conquering or circumventing that enemy within a reasonable timeframe.



The Insurmountable

Characters don't have to be omnipotent to be heroic. Gandalf cowered before the Witchking and refused the challenge of bearing the One Ring, both for knowledge of being outmatched. Frodo enabled the destruction of the ring, but not without becoming incurably scarred. Heroism does not imply a capacity to overcome absolutely anything. It implies extraordinary strength. Players should feel exhilirated by their own potential, but not as if all obstacles are insurmountable.



I've always thought RPGs should contain entities which will always inspire awe and/or fear, regardless of player growth. The mountain that can't be climbed, the beast that can't be conquered, the force that can't be contained...these are the most memorable and inspirational objects of any world. And how great the exhiliration of meeting them face-to-face. Some creatures should seem invincible, but ultimately be surmountable by the most creative and/or determined players. Others, however, should remain insurmountable. These are not wasted assets. They're at least as important as the common design practice of including buildings which cannot be entered but complete the setting...and I'd argue that they're infinitely more valuable.



Support Roles in Single-Player

It's interesting to note that single-player games have rarely, if ever, provided core gameplay opportunities for gamers who prefer to reinforce others, rather than lead. To provide such gameplay in a single-player environment is surely a challenge (perhaps one that only recent advancements in artificial intelligence can overcome), but it still surprises me. Many, if not most, human beings prefer following or accompanying to leading (albeit, often in contradiction to their spoken preference, since modern democratic ideals promote the idea that we should all be leaders and that following is a sign of weakness).



The main challenge I see here is giving supportive players control over the game's pace. This might be accomplished in the way the dog of Molyneux's recent Fable 2 demonstration presents. The dog runs ahead of its master, but in the direction the player chooses. Of course, in this case, the player is still playing the role of leader. But an NPC leader might similarly wait for the player to accompany him/her, and the player could toggle the A.I. from leader to follower or back by simply clicking a particular button.



It would likely require an extraordinary reworking of old mechanics. But, as I said, it seems an inescapable consideration when one considers that many people prefer not to lead. This is probably a major factor in the accessibility of interactive media to mainstream society.



Noticeable Differences in Skill Upgrades

Require the abilities and resources the player has acquired through growth to be used with progression. Make advanced abilities fundamentally different from amateur abilities. Increasing the strength of a fireball isn't enough (because strength is relative to the endurance of enemies). Increasing the area of effect, the possible uses (burns different elements, for example), duration of burn, casting animation, contact animation...these are significant. They cost more in design resources, yes, but the cost-benefit ratio is better.

Preempting Freezes

Since I've had it, my 360 has frozen up on me from time to time. It never had the problem with some of the games I rented, like Kameo. But it has frozen during NFS:MW, Gears of War, and especially Oblivion.

The last tends to freeze up at predictable times; like when I'm running (Agility maxed = very fast) through a heavily wooded area, with "Detect Life" active, my bow knocked, aim zoomed, and I turn quickly as a monster leaps at me. I can understand the freeze...that's a hell of a lot being processed at once.

But I have to wonder if it's really unfeasible for freezes to be preempted. Is it not possible for a game to prevent the realization of a software event (user command, high-tier graphics effect, etc) if that event will exceed available processing capacity? Surely, few gamers would object to the replacement of a momentary graphical glitch (ex: shadows or shaders being turned off) in the stead of a freeze (requiring a reboot). Is it not possible for such a fail-safe mechanism to operate quickly enough without demanding too much of its own processing power?

missing the obvious

I downloaded the Star Trek: Legacy demo onto my 360 the other day. It never ceases to amaze me how many obvious irritations developers let slip by sometimes.

The demo has no tutorial. Instead, it simply provides a diagram of controls during the loading screen. A tutorial takes resources to build, and perhaps the tutorial function is taken care of in the full game in some other way, so I can accept the controls diagram as the more viable option.

But the diagram only stays up there as long as the skirmish is loading. There is no "Ready?" prompt before leaving the diagram and starting the skirmish. There is no option to access the diagram by pausing during the skirmish. The result is that, unless the player manages to memorize the diagram's information in those 10 seconds or less (and the diagram alone does not answer all control questions, by the way), then the player is left frustrated. Experimenting with buttons during the skirmish helped me very little.

It's such a little thing, that "Ready" prompt. Why isn't there? Likely, because Bethesda never tested the demo on people who hadn't played the game yet. They probably just tested it with people who had been playing for months, already knew the controls, and so didn't notice such an obvious need.

Little things like this with significant consequences pop up in games all the time. Completely fresh testers are needed during each new phase of development; and that goes for demos, too. Looking at the industry from the outside, I had assumed that was common practice for all developers, but problems like this make me wonder.

Molyneux, I salute you

Of course, I wasn't able to attend the GDC, but I have been reading the interviews and watching videos. And after seeing Peter Molyneux explain the dog companion in Fable 2, I wish I had been there to shake the man's hand.

It has the potential to be--and, from the video, appears to be meeting that potential--the greatest advancement in storytelling this industry has seen in the past decade. It may be one of the most important games releasing (presumably) this year.

Finally, a game developer has the cojones to introduce true empathy and make a game about more than mere entertainment, a game that will actually pull at players' emotions and sanction behavior through emotional punishments and rewards. Finally, a developer has introduced unconditional love to a game, for the player to not only enjoy but also face responsibility for.

Other games have included drama and serious storytelling, but I'm hoping this will be the first to approach the effectiveness of literature and film. It will take a lot of work and luck to get it just right, but I thank Molyneux for even trying.

replayability = cost efficiency

THE PROBLEM
The other day, I reviewed a video of Will Wright's presentation at the GDC last year. I've watched his walkthrough of the Spore demo many times, but I'm glad I went back and reviewed the version of the video that includes Wright's comments before the demonstration.

He pointed out, as many have, that the ratio of assets-to-gameplay leaned sharply toward assets when new technology allowed the storage of much more data. The storage capacity of floppy disks paled in comparison to that of CD-ROM, and game developers assumed that they should find a way to use all available space. The same situation has recurred with each advancement in information and computer technology.

Many game developers simply don't get the same amount of bang for their buck as in the good ol' days. Costs rise every year, but are the games becoming more engrossing?

Note I didn't say "fun". Like with films, different types of games can have different goals of appeal. Some types of game experiences have certainly achieved stronger effects over the years, but many productions are simply wasteful. I acknowledge the significance of each particular games circumstances, so this is just generally aimed.


REMEDIES
Two games on the horizon are attempting to remedy modern problems of resource management, and in two different ways.

On the one hand, there's Spore. Spore uses limited assets, "procedural" (algorithmic) graphics and procedural physics to empower players to create their own worlds and creatures (which are shared asynchronously), and ultimately their own gameplay experiences. Aside from the media success this concept has already received, I think it's safe to say the game will sell like hotcakes and be enjoyed by millions for many years, much like The Sims.

On the other hand, there's Hellgate: London. Hellgate builds assets the old-fashioned way, but heavily employs randomization (with areas, gear-loot, enemy type and placement, etc.) to ensure player experiences are unique, unexpected, and replayable. This game has also received great media attention already. Like Spore, it has a fanbase established by previous titles of the same development team. In combination with widespread interest in the game itself, this makes great financial success and good longevity extremely likely.

So here we have (1) algorithmic modeling and creation-tools for players, and (2) the randomization of crafted assets. Is there another road?


"THIS ONE OR THAT ONE?" "YES, THANK YOU."
One consideration is a mixture of both methods.

Unguided Character Creation, Guided Adventure
Could it be viable to combine a Spore-like procedural-tool system, which allows huge variety in character customization, with variants of traditional character-advancement methods and story-infused adventure?

In other words, imagine characters creating creatures (both humanoid and non-humanoid) of variety similar to that in Spore, but placed in a world with history, lore, and established conflicts. The main challenges here seem to be enabling players to interact with that lore, despite their characters' inhumanity, and offering avenues of character advancement that are plastic enough to accommodate non-traditional character models. Because of the vast differences between player-characters, traditional foci of balance would be moot (and replaced by others, I'm sure).

If the upcoming MMOG Trials of Ascension makes it out the door, then it might answer some of the questions raised concerning this idea's viability. That game is promising non-humanoid player-characters with a unique mix of PvP and PvE gameplay.

Ultimately, I feel pretty certain this could work. The skills available to each character would be largely determined by the unique character form, rather than any cumulative classification. Enabling non-humanoid characters to interact with lore can be accomplished by focusing on non-verbal lore presentation; characters see it and interact with it, rather than read about it.

Guided Character Creation, Unguided World
On the other hand, might it be viable to set an open-ended adventure game (like Oblivion) in a world with landscapes, creatures, and events that are procedurally generated?

This model presents two possibilities for application of the gameworld's procedural generation. (1) The world is generated only at the game's onset. (2) The world is generated at the game's onset, many world elements will remain present and/or constant (for virtual stability), but the game will continue to procedurally create new content during gameplay.

The main challenge for this model would also concern the lore. But, rather than difficulties in enabling players to interact with the lore, the challenge would be to ensure a fulfilling lore in a world not directly invented by the developer. This raises the fascinating idea of an emergent lore system...similar to emergent AI, but applied on a macro level and attempting deeper consequences. Such a system, if sufficiently broad and complex, would likely lead to one gameplay adventure being infinitely more dangerous and unpredictable than another, but that sort of variance would be found attractive by many (including me).


PAVING NEW GROUND
In what other ways might one combine few assets with great variability, character growth, and avoid an arcade impression which makes the game seem more like whack-a-mole than an RP adventure?

I originally intended to present a few examples here myself, but I've already delayed posting this several times. I'll try to come back to it.

LOTR Online: initial impressions

I got an invitation to the preview period yesterday, downloaded the game this morning, and have played on and off since. The NDA was apparently lifted last week, so I'll go ahead and express my disappointment here.

I have created two characters, a human minstrel and a dwarf champion, both level 4. Many would say that this is far too soon for any sort of review, but I disagree. If a game doesn't grab me in the first hour or two, it's unreasonable to expect me to submit myself to further boredom or frustration to reach the good stuff (and the fun at the high levels doesn't matter). With how many products other than MMOGs does the developer say, "Sure, it sucks at first, but it'll grow on you"?

THE GOOD
I enjoy the moments when my character is frozen for half-a-minute as scripted events unfold before me. I was excited when my NPC companion shouted encouragement to Gimli as the hero faced a giant cave troll. I was excited when Gandalf turned the troll to stone later on. These events felt like genuine drama.

I like the various cultural backgrounds and settings offered for each race. My character isn't just a dwarf, but a dwarf of the Grey Mountains...as opposed to a dwarf of Lonely Mountain or three other options. Any extra depth the developer can offer to player characters is great.

The artistic design is plain, but impressive. There's a nice sense of scale, with a good range of elevation in the terrain. The visual customization for characters is limited, but better than WoW's.

The minstrels can apparently compose their own music (to a very limited extent). I'm not sure how legality plays into that, but it's great to see players being given a means to be so creative and productive.

THE BAD
The graphics setting automatically chosen for my computer was High. That lasted about 5-10 minutes before the first wave of horrendous lag. The lag still plagued me at Medium, so I eventually stuck with Low. Because of the graphical style (similar to WoW's), the differences between High and Low were hardly noticed. But the lesson is this: for the many gamers (unlike me) without experience in games and graphics adjustments, automatically selected settings should be more practical. Don't set the graphics based on the character selection screen; test the setting with moving objects and large render distances. The amateur gamer should rarely have to enter the Options menu.

THE UGLY
Words can't express my disappointment that MMOGs are changing so little.

Like many veteran MMO gamers, my first taste of an MMOG universe (EQ) was glorious, but MMOGs since have been less and less able to hold my interest. I've played and tested almost a dozen MMOGs (Everquest, Shadowbane, Asheron's Call 2, Star Wars: Galaxies, Wish, Horizons, Everquest 2, City of Heroes/City of Villains, World of Warcraft, Vanguard, and LOTR Online). It's come to the point that I'm no longer interested in MMOGs; at least, not until there's a revolution (not just an evolution) in core gameplay design.

The "quests" are wretched. "Go kill X number of Y to change nothing and get the same reward I gave the last guy!".

The NPCs stand like PEZ-dispensers, waiting to honor every unique savior with the same trite story and promise of grey glory. I'm reminded of The Incredibles: "when everybody's special, no one is".

The combat is boring. "Auto-attack" may not exactly be jargon for "instant win", but it's still captures the essence of the experience. So many hotbutton-skill choices! yet all just waiting for players to find the perfect sequence and apply that to every fight. The really clever games include a "match this character action to this NPC action" whack-a-mole system. Yippee.

Creature locations are neatly divided into level categories and utterly predictable. Since when is predictability attractive in adventure entertainment? Perhaps that's my mistake...to believe that true adventure was ever a goal.

SUMMARY
Notice what I'm not saying. I'm not saying that LOTR is bad as MMOGs go. I'm saying that it's MMOGs in general that are the problem.

And, of course, the problem only exists if one is concerned with game quality and not just profit from the novelty of a virtual world. It's my long experience with MMOGs that has led me to this point of disinterest. I'm sure the basic idea of a virtual world can still suck in plenty of newcomers.

Eventually, I'll probably return to the genre. In the meantime, I'm going back to single-player adventure games. I hate to speak so pessimistically about anything, but I'm not seeing many reasons to hope here.

subsurface education ... and stuff

I'm working on a project, for my Technical and Professional Writing class, in which I've been asked to brainstorm questions that would be relevant to closing a bridge for preservation and diverting a major thoroughfare in the process. It's much more complicated than that, actually.

I was surprised to realize that I'm instinctively using my Sim City experience as a model for the situation. For example, one of my questions is: "Is the thoroughfare/bridge in an industrial, commercial, or residential district?" I only played the original version of the game, so I can't call on the intricacies which are probably present in newer versions. Anyway, I realize now that Sim City did quite a bit to introduce me to the real strife of urban planning.

It makes me wonder how other games have affected my knowledge or perception of the world in small ways like that.


On a mildly related note: I reviewed a couple of old video presentations of Spore today. It's still the upcoming game I'm most anxious to play. In any RPG that offers character customization, I usually spend hours tweaking my characters to be just right. That part's a game in itself. So the prospect of an entire game built around that particular avenue of fun has me drooling to no end.

I also reviewed some Hellgate: London videos. That one's still in my Must-Have category, but I think the shine has worn off a bit. I believe a lot of that has to do with the underwhelming sound effects, as I previously discussed. I also hate seeing missile weapons (bullets, rockets, arrows, etc) that have no visible force of impact. The punch is important.

I noticed on Hellgate's site that there's a rough release date now of "summer 07". As pleased as I am that I don't have to wait until winter to get my hands on it (maybe... we'll see, right?), I'm irritated when any publisher or developer talks of release more than a month in advance. Even rough dates like that are so often false in this industry that early dates always sound disingenuine. Just tell me when it's done and on its way to manufacturing.

Speaking of false release publicity, here we are approaching March and Alan Wake is nowhere to be seen. I can't say I've ever been that excited about this one though. It got a lot of hype for graphics, but there's next to no information concerning gameplay. I'm betting that it will feel something like Condemned; good for a rental, but not worth buying.

On the other hand, Mass Effect has me more excited than I used to be. I guess I have more of an impression of open-ended gameplay now. KotOR, for me, was a rental. It offered some character customization, but the adventure felt linear. It's hard not to expect the same in Bioware's new work. I love depthful storylines and dynamics, but not at the expense of control. Make it fluid. Bioware started campaigning this too early as well. It makes me wonder if that's a tactic to estimate potential interest and attract further investment than is already secured.

And lastly, there's the game that dropped off the face of the Earth: Possession. There were a couple videos about a year ago, but I haven't heard anything about it since. It was a fun idea, playing as a zombie commander in an attempt to convert the whole city.


Anyway, back to my schoolwork. =/

grande finales and FPS wars

THE BATTLE TO END ALL BATTLES
My brother and I finished our multiplayer"War of the Ring" campaign in Battle for Middle Earth 2 today. We both much prefer that Risk-like gamemode to isolated skirmishes.

Unfortunately, as usual, the final battle felt somewhat anti-climactic. In fact, we were able to "auto-resolve" the battle...meaning we didn't even play it, really. But even when we do have to actually play the final battle, and even in single-player WotR games, the battle is usually small and never as tough as some of the battles toward the beginning of the war.

In scripted campaigns, including non-RTS campaigns, the finale is typically the climax. It's just more fun that way.

So, it makes sense for a multiplayer RTS game to feature a mechanic that seeks to ensure difficulty in the final battle. It might be a morale boost for the defender(s), buffing stats. It might be a special ability tied into the particular game's lore (like the ability to summon the spirits of the ancestors for aid; or boosts to factory production). Or it might be an environmental effect that confounds everybody (think of the storm in the battle at Helm's Deep in the LOTR film...something that changes the mood or, better, the challenges particular to that battle).

This could also apply to other multiplayer genres, such as FPS.


FPS BATTLES TO FPS WAR
Maybe it already exists and I haven't seen it yet. Maybe I've even played one but don't remember.

Anyway, it would be great to see a Risk-style mode, similar to "War of the Ring" in BfME:2, for an FPS game. Star Wars: Battlefront had something close (but shy), as I recall, but something more depthful and available in multiplayer would be a blast.

In fact, SW:B could be mixed with BfME:2 in a lot of ways to make a hell of a game. Imagine as many factions as the latter's being available to combine cooperatively with a friend against another alliance of factions. Imagine as wide a variety of unit abilities and bonus abilities (like the Powers of BfME:2) in an FPS as exist in the LOTR game.

I guess that's another concept I'll have to start fleshing out, but I hope someone tries something like that before I do.

games for the deaf and blind

Thanks to Sara for pointing this out. I already had 1UP bookmarked, but I have too many sites bookmarked to keep up with.

In response to this 1UP article: http://www.1up.com/do/feature?pager.offset=0&cId=3156848.


HARDWARE SOLUTIONS
Some problems seem like they could be better overcome through hardware.

A mouse with a 4-point vibration system (forward, back, left, right) could indicate to a deaf person the direction of a sound relative to the player's character. Really, there's probably a lot of people with intact hearing as well who could appreciate such a device. A lot of people have poor sound systems. Others play at very low volume in the wee hours of the night, when family is sleeping. And still others have frequency-specific deafness, which can fool a person into believing he or she is hearing everything.

For the blind, a braille image translator (they're probably already available). I don't mean that it would translate absolutely everything in detail while the gamer is playing. One possibility is that it could translate figures' borders from the image during gameplay, so the blind person could feel with one hand while controlling his or her character with the mouse. This would not only give the person a general picture of the scene, but it would also simulate depth perception. Another possibility is for the blind person to access a compilation of detailed figure models, before starting gameplay, to learn at leisure. This system would work better with a braille machine employing multiple degrees of dot elevation.


SOFTWARE SOLUTIONS
I think an increasing amount of attention is being paid to game audio these days, which is great. But my impression is that it is still rare for foley designers to be present from the beginning of the concept-implementation phase. This is unfortunate for many reasons (for one, it disallows audio from helping shape video; trust me, it can), but it particularly affects the blind. An increased amount of well-crafted sound effects could go a long way in aiding the blind to imagine the scene and events.

I tend to watch DVDs these days with subtitles (a friend got me hooked). Often, the problem with subtitles is not that they are absent. The problem is that they are imprecise, unclear in meaning, set against a colored backwash which makes the words difficult to read, or (particularly in games) are too small. The last is particularly annoying, since one would think it is so easy to program a game to communicate with its console/PC, determine the resolution, and adjust the text size accordinly; or simply give the player the option of adjusting text size. A lack of semantic clarity and imprecision are likely the result of rushed inclusion of the feature or use of non-writers in translating audio to print. It's terribly unfortunate when important nuances, like voice (dialect), are lost in translation.


MUSIC FOR THE DEAF
The deaf may not be able to appreciate music like people with hearing, but I am certain they can appreciate it in alternate ways. The three core components of music pitch, rhythym, and volume.

Rhythym can easily be communicated through touch. Alone by itself, it can be enough to give one a thrill. Preferrably, whatever hardware communicated rhythym would be apart from the keyboard, mouse, or joystick; but it may have to be located on relatively sensitive skin in order to express rhythyms of fast tempos and staccato. A pair of such objects might even be used overlapping rhythymic parts (melody and accompaniement).

Pitch can be communicated visually. I've been a musician all of my life, and a songwriter/composer for most of it. Music has a visual element for me. If I'm listening to music, I'll often "conduct" with my hand using visual representations of melody. That is... my hand rises with ascending notes and falls with descending notes, by degree. Smooth hand motions represent audial slurs. Jabs/punches represent accented notes. A graphic representation could be produced that follows the same logic, and perhaps even uses separate bars (or whatever) of different colors to represent overlapping notes or instruments. This representation could easily be designed to be noticeable but unobtrusive, such as on a framed border of the screen.

I am not positive that deaf people have a sense of pitch, but they might. They do feel vibrations, and perhaps the deaf are able to notice a "tonal" difference between vibrations of equal strength, depending on what object causes it. But, if the deaf don't have a sense of pitch, a visual representation would, I'm certain, still be appealing to them.

And, of course, volume can be communicated both tactilely and visually. Disney's Fantasia does a wonderful job of visually expressing volume. The brightening and bleeding of colors beyond their frame is one method.


I have a blind friend at my university. I'll try to remember to ask him sometime what his thoughts on this subject are.

I would certainly like to see games made more accessible to other disabilities. I had a relative with MS who was extremely limited in mobility during his last several years. I think he would have loved video games, had they been around.


Addendum 2/20
I spoke at length with my blind friend this morning, who has heard of video games for the blind and is interested in trying them. He has only been blind for about five years, so he could not speak for those who were born blind. However, he did graciously offer to speak with a local community of the blind about the subject of video game accessibility, so I might have more input in the coming weeks.

I asked my friend if he could recall any special difficulties with audio, but he couldn't think of any that don't bother sighted people as well.

He did like the hardware suggestions listed above, but there is one issue that would need to be resolved. In regard to text, he much prefers communication by braille text over computer vocalizations; for clarity, precision, and other reasons. That raises the question of how best to enable him to read chat dialogue, view the screen image (through the braille image translator), and control his character all at the same time.

unequal opportunities: a good thing

Just a brief reprint of a comment I made over at Sara's:

It is not necessary to offer every player the same range of available gameplay experiences. Look at the roles of individuals in real life and society. The trick for developers is to create and arrange possible player roles so that they interconnect and augment one another in compliment. One player’s experiences do not have to be as complex as another’s.

Among other things, this means that it is not necessary to force the amateur gamer to accept a pro’s control scheme.

Certainly per situation, if not on the macro level, it is alright for two players in an adventure party to have vastly differently levels of demand placed upon them.

For example: In reality, it's generally just fine with me that I'm driving and having to actively engage traffic while a friend is merely being an idle passenger or navigating. I still appreciate his or her company, despite that pressures upon me are greater than those upon my friend. And, of course, if I get into a wreck, my friend will get to share that, too. ;) From the passenger's perspective, it can be perfectly entertaining to simply observe, converse, and be of only mild help to the driver.

I believe this works on the scale of extended gameplay as well, with one player's character being essentially different in range of expectations and capabilities throughout that player's entire gameplay experience than another player's.

In fact, one might even apply it to visual presentation. There is already tremendous difference in presentation between the gameplay experience of a player using a "High" graphics setting and a player using a "Low" graphics setting. In EQ2, alternate vision types were made toggleable for particular races; vision types like ultravision, nightvision, and infrared. If a game were designed so that alternate characters were encouraged, then it might be viable for a character to have such a vision-type permanently. In Oblivion, some races see better in the dark than others. Things like this that affect the very essence of individual experiences are a welcome addition for exploration-oriented gamers, like myself, if not most gamers.

empathy

Criticisms of violence in games are essentially about a lack of empathy. Behavior modeling, presented in person or via media (like games), are a constant source of learning...for adults as well (learning how to live doesn't end in our teens or twenties). Questions about the appropriateness and nature of violence in art have been raised since Plato, if not before. The main concern has always been that art must not discourage empathy where empathy is due; conversely, it should encourage perverse empathy (anything good can be perverted into an evil shadow).

Where empathy is due is a matter of reasonable debate, but let's explore methods of its communication. If nothing more, perhaps this will help some of us to achieve our goal of making game stories (verbal and non-verbal) as compelling as celebrated dramatic works.


THE SIGNS

In Gears of War, the player can smile as his character takes the face off an enemy with a chainsaw and says "Nice!". The player is able to enjoy this because of disassociation. He perceives the enemy as an object, rather than a person with whom he can empathize.

In Call of Duty: 2, the player can see a fellow soldier ripped to shreds by machinegun fire and never think of the fallen soldier again. In real war, it may often be necessary to focus on one's enemy before looking to one's fallen comrade, but would one simply leave the mate behind like dropped popcorn?

In games like Neverwinter Nights, in which the player may choose between a variety of henchmen, I'd venture to say that few players choose a particular henchmen for more than complimentary powers or skills. How often does the NPC's personality come into play?


PERSONAL, NOT HUMAN

Empathetic value results from a perception of personal kinship, rather than of human kinship.

The Locust in Gears of War are what we often call "humanoid", separated from humanity by only a handful of characteristics. Their similarity to humans...in body, behavior, and language...is an appeal to empathy, but falls short enough that most Western guys aren't afraid to laugh as we slice our enemy in half.

Now consider a wild, snarling Rottweiler. Could most players saw through the dog's head with as much glee as they would a Locust? I doubt it. But they might still enjoy it.

What if the dog was not aggressive? What if it stood before the player with its head down in submission? What if it seemed happy to see the player, wagging its tail excitedly? How would it feel then for the player to saw the animal's body in two?

Lastly, think back to the Locust of Gears of War, and try to imagine one that was culturally and personally unlike its fellows. Try to imagine one without menace in its expression as it sits back and smokes on a pipe. Imagine one smiling as it watches two young squirrels chase each other around a tree. Ugly as the Locust is, would you then still feel fine carving it into a bloody mess?


IT'S NOT COMPLEXITY

Things don't need to be complex or even have cognition to be objects of empathy.

Southerners often perceive an old Live Oak much the same as they would perceive an old person. It's almost criminal to kill a tree that's lived over a century just because you don't like the inconvenience of having to build around it. We perceive the tree as a living being that has outlasted many hardships and has a wealth of experience, much like a person. Bear in mind, these aren't tree-huggers I'm talking about; these are no-nonsense country folks. I'm sure people from all parts of the nation, all parts of the world, perceive their own local trees in a similar light sometimes.

The point is that even a tree, an inanimate object, can take on aspects of personhood and have empathetic value.


THINGS TO TRY

Enemy/Ally
How about tackling that muddy ground of distinguishing between an "enemy" (a label which discourages empathy) and an ally? In the early years of World War I, German and English soldiers once sang Christmas songs together from their separate trenches. Some even got out to shake hands and share Christmas gifts. This is an exceptional example of empathy between enemies, but it is common for soldiers to witness acts and objects which encourage such empathy (if only temporarily).

In a video game, a player could be encouraged to sneak slowly upon his enemy. During the approach, the player might witness any number of empathy-encouraging acts...such as talk of children, talk of home or favorite meals, whistling a familiar tune, exhibiting symptoms of a cold, etc.. This does create a more serious tone and a greater degree of care expected of the game developer. But as I've said before, "games" don't need to be fun; they need to be appealing, and that may be as Saving Private Ryan or Schindler's List were appealing.

Keep in mind, empathy for enemies needn't be limited to violent situations. An equally compelling situation may be created in which the player perceives a character as both a friend and an enemy. A relative who has a long history of support for you but believes in an opposing cause can be a point of deep trouble and contemplation.

True Comradery
One way of encouraging the player to take personal interest in an NPC comrade is for the player to witness a painful sacrifice that NPC makes for the player.

The pain is the key there. Developers tend to avoid realistic presentation of pain in their games. John Cleese once said that a Vietnam-era American audience didn't seem to appreciate the humor of the black knight losing his limbs in The Holy Grail until they recognized the absence of pain. An absence of realistic pain in supposedly painful situations discourages empathy.

True, charming dialogue can make an NPC likeable, but few things invite personal concern so quickly and effectively as a loving sacrifice. If you can create a situation in which the player watches that sacrifice, like the NPC shoving the player out of an enemy's crosshairs to inadvertently take the bullet (to use a clichè example), and the player's attention is drawn to details, such as the injured man's labored breathing and weakness, then the player will be much more likely to take notice when the NPC is harmed or killed later in the game.

Personality Matters
Sometimes, one's personality has a suggestive effect, such as annoyance or inspiration. If a player must decide between possible companions, it's possible to include among valid considerations that a less combat-capable NPC is clever and able to aid in intellectual/social tasks (think of the archeologist in the Stargate film). On the other hand, an extremely combat-capable NPC might have such an annoying or abrasive personality that the player bypasses his/her obvious abilities (that NPC's design costs would obviously have to be justified somehow, such as future story involvement: "You could have shared this power with me, but you chose the snivelling sage!").

Or an NPC's personality can have a more immediate and tangible effect. If I understand correctly, Bioware's Mass Effect will present the player with the possibility of violent dissent among companions. It may also be interesting for companions to commit acts of treachery or aid behind the player's back. This could sometimes be visible to the player (such as the companion leaving the player's side to whisper to another NPC) or it might be hidden (story events during game-level transitions).


Needless to say, there are many opportunities for improvement in the promotion of empathy in games. Empathy's purposes go far beyond qualifying presentations of violence, but that's what got me thinking on the subject.

dwelling on darkness

In drama, there is often a tendency to dwell on the darkness and pain. It can be easier to capture an audience with sadness than with joy. We should make a conscious effort to focus some gameplay experiences on events of joy and comfort; not just the resolution of a crisis, the avoidance of catastrophe, but also the discovery of new levels of happiness and fulfillment.

I was just thinking that most upbeat moments in game stories are, if not humor, little more than the end of unhappiness. Joy should take us far beyond mere relief.

Perspective of Sound

I may have mentioned this before, but it's worth restating. I was looking at my computer's background, a painting by Caspar David Friedrich called Moonrise by the Sea, and considering the illusion of perspective artists create by making objects in the background smaller than objects in the foreground.

It reminds me of an element that seldom appears in games and is sorely missed: a thorough perspective of sound.

When I was young, I watched nature shows all the time. I was fascinated to learn that a lion's roar, an elephant's trumpet, or the howl of a howler monkey can be heard from over a mile away. When walking in the woods, I can hear not only what directly surrounds me, but creatures and events a great distance away.

Current games commonly make use of positional audio and surround sound. But they still tend to offer the player only those sounds immediately around the character. In Gears of War, the player catches fleeting glimpses of great monsters and bosses levels before having to engage those enemies. The same thing can be accomplished with sound...and with the added value of inspiring the player's imagination to create its own figures of horror.

Extended perspective of sound needn't be limited to frightening sounds, of course. A howler monkey, for example, is hardly a frightening animal. The effects of creature noises can range from the frightening and disorienting to the angelic and inspirational. There are also environmental sounds such as waterfalls, landslides, encroaching thunder, the easy to misinterpret wailing of wind, etc.

Distant sounds can even be used to have more direct non-mood effects on player actions. Suppose the player is unknowingly surrounded by many creatures of a particular type, but only one voices a call at a time. The player may hear noises to the north. When he crosses a particular threshold, the noises shift to the west (different beings, but of the same voice). This could be used to disorient the player, leading the player to believe he is tracking a particular individual when he is actually being led in circles...or toward a trap.

One of Oblivion and Vanguard's big selling points is the vast range of visibility it offers to its players. It would be nice if game developers would employ the same range of player perspective with sound effects as they do with visuals.

Technical Writing

So I started my Technical & Professional Writing course today. It was supposed to begin last week, but San Antonio had ice on the roads and we don't get that a lot down here (even less so where I come from).

The introduction impressed me for two reasons. First, we will focus on writing and collaborative techniques more typical of most business opportunities than the critical research papers most college English courses focus on. Second, our instruction will be largely experential, placing us in a volunteer contract position with a non-profit organization.

The reasons I am impressed are the same reasons that I am unimpressed. My first and only such course should not have come at the last semester of my senior year. It never struck me so blazingly before how inappropriate most college English coursework is, with so myopic an obsession with creative fiction and critical research.

Or rather, it was never so clear to me how sorely baccalaureate English programs need to be divided into two programs: one which prepares the student to become a creative writer, a poet or teacher of literature; and one which prepares the student for the majority of employment positions for writers...public relations, advertisement, publishing, instructional writing, corporate outlines and memos, etc.. These vastly different modes of writing merit independent degrees.

For example, this will be the first class under an English department, as opposed to a Computer Science department, that I have witnessed which will instruct students how to correlate texts with visuals...as one would be expected to do in advertising and marketing positions.

Perhaps a division between these different modes of writing is realized in separate degrees at many universities, but none that I have attended or considered attending offered such foresight.

Anyway, I've had experience with many types of technical writing before, but I'm looking forward to the more formal and guided experience this class seems to be offering.

MMO cutscenes

I like cutscenes when they're fluidly implemented from normal art assets. Neverwinter Nights merely took control of the camera and scripted events with the usual models. Battle for Middle Earth 2 does it slightly different, fading the usual art into something more like painting...but really not that far from the original models.

I'd like to see this done in an MMORPG. Imagine having just triggered or come into contact with a major story event; the camera swings into first-person view, and you watch (the camera turns and zooms as necessary) as a scripted conversation or other situation unfolds before you... something akin to the cutscenes in the Condemned 360 demo. Maybe the artists even have a way of applying a temporary effect to the scene to make the normal models appear more cinematic.

If the game is capable of making your character's face provide expressions, then maybe the camera will swing around in a 3rd-person view to show your character reacting to, or taking place in, the events. Honestly though, I like cinematic story progression mostly when it doesn't employ my character significantly, because I like as complete control as I can get over my character's actions and personality.

Anyway, I've heard about a couple MMOGs having cinematics before, but it didn't sound like they shared the incorporative style of Neverwinter Nights cutscenes.

I'd be particularly interested in seeing a method like this used to bring the audience (player) into the perspective of his or her antagonists at times. I'm still thinking about how best to do that though.

manner of expression

I've noticed a lot of folks commenting on the hullabaloo surrounding the Columbine game. Of course, most of what I've read is people saying that the game is at least respectable for its willingness to ask the hard questions. I'm still out-of-town, and I'm not all that interested anyway, so I haven't tried out the game yet. But I would like to make a general comment about situations like this, if not this specific situation.

It's not only what you say that matters, but how you say it. There's a reason we don't accept the comments of young kids until they say them respectfully (without yelling, abrasive language, insults, etc). There is no reason we shouldn't maintain expectations of respect with adults. The manner in which actions are performed has an impact, and it is the responsibility of all individuals to attempt to maintain the most thoughtful and peaceful manner possible.

Peace without justice and truth is not a good thing. It is sometimes necessary to be loud or rough to force witness to reality and responsibility. This doesn't seem to be one of those times.

In a case like the Columbine shooting or a similar atrocity, a confrontational manner is not necessary to make such a breakthrough. If the game designers truly wanted thoughtful consideration of the influences upon the killers and their motives, then the most effective avenue of approach would have been to begin sympathetically with the designers' opposition and make the explorative journey together. Any playing out of the actual shooting would be counter-productive (I don't know if the game includes such a phase).

In any case, many things for which censorship calls are made are rightfully censored...not because the message is impermissable, but because the manner in which the message is delivered is immature and needlessly disruptive or aggressive. Concern for others can and should be expected from all, individuals and companies alike.

It's easy to tell when confrontation is genuinely aimed at coming together and when it's just childish, hopeless confrontation.

the appeal of familiarity

"She's putting her face on."

It's a great way of saying a woman's putting on her makeup. Someone said it today and I thought it could make for an interesting creature/NPC concept: one that puts its face on, literally.

Then I wondered... Could frequent real-world allusions like this in a game add a layer of player satisfaction without disrupting positive escapism?

People who read Tolkien's LOTR book before they saw the films, people who saw the Star Wars films before playing the video games, people who experienced the boardgame Clue before the film (or vis versa); all of these are familiar with the additional layer of appeal which comes from recognition of the elements from the first media representation in the second representation. When I played SWG, hearing those classic Star Wars musical themes went a long way in augmenting my enjoyment of the game. But what exactly is the nature of that enjoyment?

Is it nostalgia? If it is, then the experience alluded to must have made a pleasant impression for an allusion to also be pleasant. If the referenced experience provoked no emotional response whatsoever, like a bland and familiar expression (ex: "don't count your chickens before they hatch"), then an allusion would likely produce a similar lack of response...or annoyance at an intrusion of everyday life into the gameworld.

Or, rather than nostalgia, is it personal pride in making the connection? When I was younger, a game was common in which the player attempts to identify a common word, phrase or expression in a pictorial representation. "Head over heels" is an easy example to imagine.

If it's a mini-game like that, and not nostalgia, then perhaps a game could benefit from allusions to reality, like the figure which has to put its face on. I'm not suggesting that any game could do this. Where appropriate, however, the effect might be substantial.

cooperative variables

In my last blog, one of the scenario examples I offered was of players saved from a particularly daunting battle by the discovery of a trapdoor. At the time, I thought it was a bit of a stretch for the players to happen to discover the trapdoor just when they need it. But, on reflection, such an occurrence needn't be a coincidence (from the dev's perspective).

Adventure movies are full of such jaw-dropping coincidences. Indiana Jones and his father are tied to chairs as fire spreads through the room and threatens to kill them both...but when they hop to the temporary safety of the fireplace, one of them happens to hit a lever which spins the fireplace (a secret door) to a room safe from the fire. Hans Solo finds himself at the mercy of an Imperial Cruiser and its fighter battalion, but there happens to be an asteroid field nearby in which to dodge and hide.

Going back to the tomb-trapdoor scenario, imagine that the trapdoor would not be revealed until such a great level of danger is present. One variable is dependent upon another. The group might experience a particular dungeon several times before variables combine to create a situation of high enough difficulty that the secret escape route is revealed/opened to the adventurers. Note that this is not a form of instancing which divides the gameworlds of separate players or groups (the creation of a temporary universe, like some of the quests in EQ2), but instead just a toggling of accessibility.

I'm sure this could be applied to scenarios other than setting variation, but that's the most obvious application.

Perhaps another could be a weapon that has a chance of producing a particular effect (ex: cast [X] debuff, add [y]-type damage, etc) and that effect has a chance of interacting with other variables to produce an additional effect. If a weapon happens to apply its frost effect during a battle with a Coldstone Golem, the golem will shatter like something transformed with liquid nitrogen. If the weapon's application of its frost effect was uncommon enough, then players would not be able to count on it to chop through an area of Coldstone Golems with ease, but just the chance of witnessing the consequence of the combined variables again would be enough to excite the players with anticipation. If similar combinations were common enough, then all players, including those who had never witnessed such an effect, would enjoy similar anticipation.

Fun can be produced, not only by the things players experience, but by the things they can hope to experience. Anticipation and surprise are vital elements.