In this interview about Borderlands, Randy Pitchford talks about the importance of the "feedback loop" in games like Diablo 2. He muses that the game was so enjoyable largely "because of the compelling, compulsive feedback loop of growing my character and becoming a bad ass".
More and more, shooter gameplay is being mixed with RPG-style character progression and customization. Borderlands, Mass Effect 2, Alpha Protocol, The Agency and many others have done this in their own ways.
How might racing and RPG gameplay be mixed?
There are already similarities. Vehicle customization is like gear customization in that the player operates most vehicles in basically the same way while vehicle stats (grip, acceleration, speed, etc) affect style and performance. There's also progression in that the player acquires new vehicles and options for those vehicles.
But some of those similarities are only skin-deep. Customizations cannot be carried from car to car. The same may be said of items in RPGs, but new gear is acquired much more frequently in RPGs. Customizations are more personal in RPGs. Almost every car can be customized in the same ways, and most of those are purely graded (worse to better): exhaust, tires, engine, etc.
Anyway, here are some ideas of how I might design a racer-RPG hybrid.
Create a growth experience with only one or a few cars, instead of encouraging the player to swap out cars or buy new ones. Imagine selecting your vehicle at the beginning of the game and experiencing a whole adventure with just that vehicle. The car is like a companion. It's adorned inside and out with reminders of events. It might even bear scars (until repaired). As the driver improves, it is improved. The player's character talks to the car while driving.
Competitors are not faceless. They are seen. They are heard. And they, too, stick to one vehicle each... vehicles with their own reminders.
Realism isn't ignored entirely, but it takes a back seat to making customization truly personal. If five players all choose to play through the game in Car A, they're customization choices should be different. This personalization of vehicles is in addition to the dynamically-achieved trophies and other reminders of experiences acquired during each player's unique adventure.
The game isn't just racing. Like in an RPG, there are a variety of activities, and not all are sought by the player. For example, the player might be casually driving down a highway or through a city when one or more vehicles start to chase, perhaps even try to ram him off the road. Events like these would be dynamic and not strictly scripted. So what vehicles the player is being chased by might vary, as would where the player happens to be when the chase begins and how the chase ends (perhaps the player or enemy is run off the road, involved in a traffic accident, or police get involved).
What I'm basically proposing is a vehicle-based adventure as opposed to typical driving games.
P.S. Yes, there's more than one pun in this article. And, no, they were not intentional. =P
Also, two games to keep an eye on for how they might mix driving with RPG elements are Rage and Borderlands.
Showing posts with label genre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label genre. Show all posts
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
dynamic crime investigation
I wonder it's possible to randomize crimes in an open world for a crime investigation game, in the vein of the NCIS or CSI TV shows.
By open world, I don't mean a simulation where characters in the world are all living dynamic lives and crime springs from those activities. I mean a gameworld akin to those of GTA or Saints Row, with the game dynamically producing one crime in that city for the player to solve or close the book on, then producing another when the player is done.
For each crime, the player would be called to a specific location to find and analyze physical evidence like bodies, fingerprints, DNA, murder weapons, etc. Analyzing some evidence might prompt the player to go to another location to search and analyze. Eventually, the player would find the suspect and must chase down that suspect through buildings or the city streets. If the player loses the suspect, then a new chase is arranged. If, at any time, the player feels stuck or doesn't like the crime, he can close the case and move on. Ratio of successful vs unsuccessful cases would be among statistics shared online.
There are two reasons I'm not sure this sort of game is possible.
First, you'll notice I didn't mention any dialog.
If crimes are randomly or procedurally generated and not scripted, then it's unlikely questioning, interrogation, and such could be made fresh and interesting for each case. Investigators and civilians could blurt out humorous lines. But conversations can't be dynamically produced to mimic the lies, dodgy answers, and withheld information of conversations with witnesses and suspects.
Dynamic witnesses are possible if they simply blurt out basic details at the crime scene, though. They could even bear witness to verbal confrontations and scenarios in general ways, like "They were yelling at each other" or "They looked like they were having a romantic dinner". Anyway, could a crime investigation be fun without deep dialog if the crimes were countless and unpredictable in an open world?
Second, how can crimes be procedurally generated and feel both deep and fresh?
I figure this would be easier if the crimes actually happened. So the game invents a scenario, then plays out the scenario so that witnesses are possible and the placement of physical evidence is truly dynamic. The game invents these scenarios by creating relationships between random NPCs (family, business partners, crime partners, drugs, testimony, etc), searching its index for crimes possibly resulting from such connections, and then playing it out in a dynamic setting.
Honestly, I believe much of this is possible, but perhaps not enough to make a full and consistently fun game. What do you think? Is the crime investigation genre of games capable of procedurally generated or emergent content?
By open world, I don't mean a simulation where characters in the world are all living dynamic lives and crime springs from those activities. I mean a gameworld akin to those of GTA or Saints Row, with the game dynamically producing one crime in that city for the player to solve or close the book on, then producing another when the player is done.
For each crime, the player would be called to a specific location to find and analyze physical evidence like bodies, fingerprints, DNA, murder weapons, etc. Analyzing some evidence might prompt the player to go to another location to search and analyze. Eventually, the player would find the suspect and must chase down that suspect through buildings or the city streets. If the player loses the suspect, then a new chase is arranged. If, at any time, the player feels stuck or doesn't like the crime, he can close the case and move on. Ratio of successful vs unsuccessful cases would be among statistics shared online.
There are two reasons I'm not sure this sort of game is possible.
First, you'll notice I didn't mention any dialog.
If crimes are randomly or procedurally generated and not scripted, then it's unlikely questioning, interrogation, and such could be made fresh and interesting for each case. Investigators and civilians could blurt out humorous lines. But conversations can't be dynamically produced to mimic the lies, dodgy answers, and withheld information of conversations with witnesses and suspects.
Dynamic witnesses are possible if they simply blurt out basic details at the crime scene, though. They could even bear witness to verbal confrontations and scenarios in general ways, like "They were yelling at each other" or "They looked like they were having a romantic dinner". Anyway, could a crime investigation be fun without deep dialog if the crimes were countless and unpredictable in an open world?
Second, how can crimes be procedurally generated and feel both deep and fresh?
I figure this would be easier if the crimes actually happened. So the game invents a scenario, then plays out the scenario so that witnesses are possible and the placement of physical evidence is truly dynamic. The game invents these scenarios by creating relationships between random NPCs (family, business partners, crime partners, drugs, testimony, etc), searching its index for crimes possibly resulting from such connections, and then playing it out in a dynamic setting.
Honestly, I believe much of this is possible, but perhaps not enough to make a full and consistently fun game. What do you think? Is the crime investigation genre of games capable of procedurally generated or emergent content?
Friday, October 31, 2008
shocks vs scares
A number of people have said they don't consider Dead Space and other horror games to be truly scary. These people point to the difference between startling someone with unexpected events and giving that person a lasting chill. It's a valid distinction.
As many have pointed out, the greatest barrier to evoking fear through games is emotional distance from the danger. Like any emotion, fear is rarely, if ever, pure. There are many types of fear, many mixtures. But any type of fear is basically a defensive reaction to perceived danger.
Some people are more sympathetic with story characters than others. A strongly sympathetic person can be affected deeply by fear through story, because there is not a great division between that protagonist(s) and self. But many others have a harder time connecting to characters. They do not feel much fear via games and movies because they themselves are not in any perceived danger.
So, obviously, the way to bridge that gap, to make a game truly terrifying, is to endanger the audience!
I'm only half joking. The best scary stories put the audience on edge long after the story has been told. This is generally, though not always, accomplished by making the imaginary danger seem real. The movie Jaws convinced a whole generation of movie goers that human-hunting sharks are real. Films like Child's Play and Poltergeist instilled fear of dolls in countless kids. And how many grown adults are uncomfortable in front of poorly illuminated mirrors because someone locked them in a dark room with Bloody Mary? The scariest tales live on in reality.
Is it cruel to instill such lasting fears in people? Not necessarily. The great American writer Flannery O'Connor used horror to communicate themes which her readers would normally be resistant to. In other words, she used fear as a form of mild violence to break past emotional barriers in her audience. In O'Connor's own words: "to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the blind you draw large and startling figures." The most impressive lessons in any person's memory are often those cemented by deep emotional experiences. Fear is one emotion which can ensure the questions your story raises are not abandoned the moment the player steps away.
Cheers to the things that go bump in the night!
As many have pointed out, the greatest barrier to evoking fear through games is emotional distance from the danger. Like any emotion, fear is rarely, if ever, pure. There are many types of fear, many mixtures. But any type of fear is basically a defensive reaction to perceived danger.
Some people are more sympathetic with story characters than others. A strongly sympathetic person can be affected deeply by fear through story, because there is not a great division between that protagonist(s) and self. But many others have a harder time connecting to characters. They do not feel much fear via games and movies because they themselves are not in any perceived danger.
So, obviously, the way to bridge that gap, to make a game truly terrifying, is to endanger the audience!
I'm only half joking. The best scary stories put the audience on edge long after the story has been told. This is generally, though not always, accomplished by making the imaginary danger seem real. The movie Jaws convinced a whole generation of movie goers that human-hunting sharks are real. Films like Child's Play and Poltergeist instilled fear of dolls in countless kids. And how many grown adults are uncomfortable in front of poorly illuminated mirrors because someone locked them in a dark room with Bloody Mary? The scariest tales live on in reality.
Is it cruel to instill such lasting fears in people? Not necessarily. The great American writer Flannery O'Connor used horror to communicate themes which her readers would normally be resistant to. In other words, she used fear as a form of mild violence to break past emotional barriers in her audience. In O'Connor's own words: "to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the blind you draw large and startling figures." The most impressive lessons in any person's memory are often those cemented by deep emotional experiences. Fear is one emotion which can ensure the questions your story raises are not abandoned the moment the player steps away.
Cheers to the things that go bump in the night!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
challenges of sci-fi
I try not to repost my comments from elsewhere too often, but since this one's article-length anyway...
The heart of any story, regardless of genre, is humanity. The best science fiction stories explore humanity and personal relationships with technology being the catalyst and/or guide of that questioning. Isaac Asimov used AI to explore what makes us human. Arthur C. Clarke used space exploration to theorize on our place in a vast universe, as well as to explore our natural origins. Kurt Vonnegut uses technology to explore the basis and limits of our morals and cultures.
The popularization of the internet has greatly complicated science fiction, I think. It has because average people now interact with distant individuals, distant cultures, distant businesses and technologies in ways unimaginable just fifty years ago. When one's life can be so directly affected by something happening halfway around the world (such as a satellite being destroyed, or some service supplied by a foreign country being disrupted), then science fiction authors must either localize their focus to a small setting or consider a vast number of interacting technologies and events.
The rate of innovation/discovery and its variety has exploded, partially thanks to the internet. One can literally read a dozen articles every day of new technologies and scientific discoveries occurring somewhere around the world. Since the Industrial Revolution, science has increased in scope and speed with every generation (scientific exploration is, afterall, a privilege of hands freed by affluent times). There have always been times when innovation proceeds before the human effects are adequately considered, but I believe that's an especially common occurrence this far down the rollercoaster.
The challenge of the modern sci-fi author is that change occurs more rapidly than it used to and plays a greater role in life. For an example of the latter claim: as often as authors like to imagine a world without oil, they never imagine a world without plastics (made from oil). We are utterly dependent on many technologies, and new necessities are added all the time (power steering, computers, cell phones, etc).
Anyway, the focus on humanity, rather than technology, is what is most often missed by would-be sci-fi authors. But I think writing sci-fi can often be harder today than it used to be. It's too easy to predict one technological advancement and forget so many other technologies. Why, the audience might ask, is a person whose car is flying still watching a TV set?
The heart of any story, regardless of genre, is humanity. The best science fiction stories explore humanity and personal relationships with technology being the catalyst and/or guide of that questioning. Isaac Asimov used AI to explore what makes us human. Arthur C. Clarke used space exploration to theorize on our place in a vast universe, as well as to explore our natural origins. Kurt Vonnegut uses technology to explore the basis and limits of our morals and cultures.
The popularization of the internet has greatly complicated science fiction, I think. It has because average people now interact with distant individuals, distant cultures, distant businesses and technologies in ways unimaginable just fifty years ago. When one's life can be so directly affected by something happening halfway around the world (such as a satellite being destroyed, or some service supplied by a foreign country being disrupted), then science fiction authors must either localize their focus to a small setting or consider a vast number of interacting technologies and events.
The rate of innovation/discovery and its variety has exploded, partially thanks to the internet. One can literally read a dozen articles every day of new technologies and scientific discoveries occurring somewhere around the world. Since the Industrial Revolution, science has increased in scope and speed with every generation (scientific exploration is, afterall, a privilege of hands freed by affluent times). There have always been times when innovation proceeds before the human effects are adequately considered, but I believe that's an especially common occurrence this far down the rollercoaster.
The challenge of the modern sci-fi author is that change occurs more rapidly than it used to and plays a greater role in life. For an example of the latter claim: as often as authors like to imagine a world without oil, they never imagine a world without plastics (made from oil). We are utterly dependent on many technologies, and new necessities are added all the time (power steering, computers, cell phones, etc).
Anyway, the focus on humanity, rather than technology, is what is most often missed by would-be sci-fi authors. But I think writing sci-fi can often be harder today than it used to be. It's too easy to predict one technological advancement and forget so many other technologies. Why, the audience might ask, is a person whose car is flying still watching a TV set?
Monday, August 04, 2008
Montessori learning in Spore
If you buy a child one game in this year or next, buy Spore. It's an inherently educational game and teaches many lessons.
As a child, Will Wright was educated by the Montessori method. Montessori learning is basically learning through experimentation; self-directed interaction with objects and relationships. This is the sort of learning that permeates Spore.
Players intuitively learn through their experiments basic concepts of structural biology; how the shape, size, and orientation of various body parts combine to form aptitudes and behaviors.
In the tribal and civilization stages, players intuitively learn basic concepts of government. They learn about resource management, the necessity of defense, diplomacy, and civic engineering.
In the space phase, players are exposed to the first detailed 3-D model of space -- an achievement significant enough to earn Wright an invitation to demonstrate Spore at NASA. Kids and adults can be exposed to concepts like black holes, quasars, asteroid and ice belts, and perhaps the many phases of a star's life cycle.
Of course, like with any teaching tool, some guidance is good. For example, Spore begins with the panspermia/exogenesishypothesis guess. When your child asks you why scientists would think the possibility that life began elsewhere and arrived on Earth via meteors is any more credible than life beginning here on Earth, you can say, "Because scientists can be idiots, too."
More generally, Spore provides inspiration for learning; enthusiastic questions which parents and teachers can use to open broader or more detailed lessons. After a child has equipped his or her creature with horns, spitters, plating, or claws, you can use that to open discussion of the countless defense mechanisms not included in the game. As children paint their creatures, you can introduce them to concepts like camouflage, feathers, or exoskeletons. No matter what they're playing with in Spore, it's a great occasion to point out the wondrous variety of life and beautiful logos which pervades our universe.
Spore is one of the best examples of potential for educational games. Like trips to museums and zoos or time spent out with nature, it can be an invaluable inspiration for learning. Learning should not always be fun, but it certainly can be.
This sort of educational value is an important part of the future of video games as they become increasingly mainstream. No work of art or product is free from social responsibility.
As a child, Will Wright was educated by the Montessori method. Montessori learning is basically learning through experimentation; self-directed interaction with objects and relationships. This is the sort of learning that permeates Spore.
Players intuitively learn through their experiments basic concepts of structural biology; how the shape, size, and orientation of various body parts combine to form aptitudes and behaviors.
In the tribal and civilization stages, players intuitively learn basic concepts of government. They learn about resource management, the necessity of defense, diplomacy, and civic engineering.
In the space phase, players are exposed to the first detailed 3-D model of space -- an achievement significant enough to earn Wright an invitation to demonstrate Spore at NASA. Kids and adults can be exposed to concepts like black holes, quasars, asteroid and ice belts, and perhaps the many phases of a star's life cycle.
Of course, like with any teaching tool, some guidance is good. For example, Spore begins with the panspermia/exogenesis
More generally, Spore provides inspiration for learning; enthusiastic questions which parents and teachers can use to open broader or more detailed lessons. After a child has equipped his or her creature with horns, spitters, plating, or claws, you can use that to open discussion of the countless defense mechanisms not included in the game. As children paint their creatures, you can introduce them to concepts like camouflage, feathers, or exoskeletons. No matter what they're playing with in Spore, it's a great occasion to point out the wondrous variety of life and beautiful logos which pervades our universe.
Spore is one of the best examples of potential for educational games. Like trips to museums and zoos or time spent out with nature, it can be an invaluable inspiration for learning. Learning should not always be fun, but it certainly can be.
This sort of educational value is an important part of the future of video games as they become increasingly mainstream. No work of art or product is free from social responsibility.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
genre desperation
I started watching old episodes of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. I can't say it ever caught my eye before. But after getting endless pleasure out of Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog (the first two episodes, anyway) and Firefly, and having subsequently read countless ravings from fans of Joss Whedon, I figured the series was worth investigating.
Just a few shows into the series, the villain is a woman who transforms into a giant praying mantis. A giant bug. Buffy takes it down with bug spray and a recording of a bat's sonar.
A giant bug.
Never underestimate genre desperation. Countless horror fans wade through bad story after bad story because there simply aren't that many great tales of horror. Likewise, there are fans of vampires, monsters, dragons, wizards, space colonies, aliens, war, great leaders -- people with favorite settings and character types, and they're always on the hunt for the next worthy showing.
So why not shovel garbage down their throats and make some money, right? No, the point I'm getting at is that genre fans will cut designers and storytellers a lot of slack, so don't pay too much heed to expectations.
For example, having grown up on The Hobbit, Dragonslayer, and D&D, I'm a fan of dragons.
That picture's from Reign of Fire. Simple awesome.
I prefer dragons that don't speak English or cast spells or anything like that. I just like huge, flying, intelligent, nasty-tempered, fire-breathing lizards that love to eat people and burn villages to ash. When one starts talking, I'm a little disappointed. But my love for dragons outweighs my distaste for certain details, so I keep watching the movie or playing the game... begging to be satisfied. And you know what? Sometimes I'm happily surprised, like with the first Dragonheart film.
If everyone expects elves like Legolas, Galadriel, and Drizzt, that doesn't mean you'd be shooting yourself in the foot to give them Dobby.
Expectations aren't iron-clad. They just mean you'd better be substituting something cool or genre fans will forever curse you for spoiling hallowed ground.
By the way, I'm also a fan of ghosts and monsters. One of my favorite books is a collection of Victorian and Eduardian ghost stories. I think this is an updated version.
Just a few shows into the series, the villain is a woman who transforms into a giant praying mantis. A giant bug. Buffy takes it down with bug spray and a recording of a bat's sonar.
A giant bug.
Never underestimate genre desperation. Countless horror fans wade through bad story after bad story because there simply aren't that many great tales of horror. Likewise, there are fans of vampires, monsters, dragons, wizards, space colonies, aliens, war, great leaders -- people with favorite settings and character types, and they're always on the hunt for the next worthy showing.
So why not shovel garbage down their throats and make some money, right? No, the point I'm getting at is that genre fans will cut designers and storytellers a lot of slack, so don't pay too much heed to expectations.
For example, having grown up on The Hobbit, Dragonslayer, and D&D, I'm a fan of dragons.
That picture's from Reign of Fire. Simple awesome.
I prefer dragons that don't speak English or cast spells or anything like that. I just like huge, flying, intelligent, nasty-tempered, fire-breathing lizards that love to eat people and burn villages to ash. When one starts talking, I'm a little disappointed. But my love for dragons outweighs my distaste for certain details, so I keep watching the movie or playing the game... begging to be satisfied. And you know what? Sometimes I'm happily surprised, like with the first Dragonheart film.
If everyone expects elves like Legolas, Galadriel, and Drizzt, that doesn't mean you'd be shooting yourself in the foot to give them Dobby.
Expectations aren't iron-clad. They just mean you'd better be substituting something cool or genre fans will forever curse you for spoiling hallowed ground.
By the way, I'm also a fan of ghosts and monsters. One of my favorite books is a collection of Victorian and Eduardian ghost stories. I think this is an updated version.
Monday, July 07, 2008
the thing about sci-fi
If I've said this before, I apologize. One Tired Blogger reminded me of it.
I’m pretty good at suspending disbelief and letting myself get lost in whatever film or book I’m enjoying. But the thing about sci-fi that jars me sometimes is technological inconsistency — when some technologies advance and other don’t.
That does happen, of course, but it has to happen in sensible places. For example, we’re still building structures out of concrete, bolts, and screws thousands of years after those things were originally invented. But TVs won’t be around 100 years from now. They’ll be replaced by other video communication technologies; such as holograms, flexible screens, and LCD paints.
A lot of sci-fi stories make the mistake of imagining what the world would be like with a handful of technological improvements while ignoring other technologies included in the story. If your astronaut’s going to eat toast for breakfast, take 10 minutes to ask whether a 20th-century toaster should be in the background.
I’m pretty good at suspending disbelief and letting myself get lost in whatever film or book I’m enjoying. But the thing about sci-fi that jars me sometimes is technological inconsistency — when some technologies advance and other don’t.
That does happen, of course, but it has to happen in sensible places. For example, we’re still building structures out of concrete, bolts, and screws thousands of years after those things were originally invented. But TVs won’t be around 100 years from now. They’ll be replaced by other video communication technologies; such as holograms, flexible screens, and LCD paints.
A lot of sci-fi stories make the mistake of imagining what the world would be like with a handful of technological improvements while ignoring other technologies included in the story. If your astronaut’s going to eat toast for breakfast, take 10 minutes to ask whether a 20th-century toaster should be in the background.
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