Monthly Archives: March 2012

New Gamasutra Article, “What Makes a Game?”

My newest Gamasutra article just finally went up (they’ve been backed up).  It’s about a prescriptive definition for “game” that, unlike the everyday term, is actually useful for game designers and critics.  Please check it out here.

 

Auro Updates, Games I’m Playing, and Secret Projects!

Hello all!  As I’ve talked about before, I’m in the process of writing a book right now.  Between that, Auro, and a few other side projects, I won’t be having too much time to make posts.  After April 8th, which is my deadline, I’ll be back in full-swing, though!  Today, I just wanted to quickly let everyone know what’s going on with us, and also rattle off a little theory that I’ve been playing with.

Before I continue, let me mention:  our first game, 100 Rogues got its Dinoman Bruiser update, and it’s live now!  Go check it out

How Auro’s Going

So, even though I have this looming deadline for my book coming up, I have to say that I’ve still been making Auro my top priority.  Game design wise, we’re honing in more and more, and the game as it is now, while still not “there”, is proving to be super-useful for me in terms of that honing in process.  Also, I may have stated before that I am not a programmer, but I have been able to code just enough to implement and modify Auro’s special abilities, in the hopes of finding better and better ways of expressing the Disciplines.

Despite being a really solid and focused vision, Auro is proving to be a really difficult game to design and to program.  This is because not only is everything so tight, but also there are so many special exceptional interactions that can happen.  Here are some examples (some of which are currently implemented, and some of which aren’t)

  • There’s a Spider monster who is entirely exceptional.  He’s always up on the ceiling, and only displayed as a shadow for most of the time.  If you walk near him, he throws webs down near you to slow you down.  If you walk on the tile his shadow is on, he pounces down on you, poisoning you.  However, if you move through his tile instantly without passing a turn (which is possible via Elude’s Quick Step or by walking on ice floe), he will drop down for a turn and you’ll have a chance to kill him.  This is the only way to kill the Spider!
  • Scrolls can’t be attacked or anything, but if fire spreads a tile with a scroll, it’s destroyed.  Also if you’re hit by fire and you have any scrolls, one may get burned.
  • Some monsters can’t be knocked back by your attacks because they’re too massive.  But if you hit them while they’re on Floe, they do get knocked back.

There are certainly a few other special interactions like that, but I still have a LOT of work to do in this area.  It’s pretty good in the Fire and Ice trees, but the other three all need work in terms of this kind of hard-coded, special synergy.  Note that all of the skills will have naturally some level of emergent synergy, so there’s always that cushion there, but it’s good to have the special hardcoded ones too if you can. read more »

The Problem with the “Game Over” Concept

“Game Over, man!  Game Over!” 

– Bill Paxton in “Aliens”

The common expression “Game Over” has actually caused damage to our ability to understand games.  Everyone knows what “Game Over” means, right?  It means the game is over, and you failed.  Bill Paxton essentially was using it as a synomyn for “We lost!”

Well, that would be fine, except that before “game over”, “the game being over” and “you winning or losing” were commonly understood to be two different things.  This is a term which only started showing up in a big way in the 1980s, at least with the modern meaning that it has taken on.  The problem is, the term has caused us great confusion in understanding games.  Note that this article is something of an extension of my On Score article, so if you haven’t read that, consider checking it out first.

 

The Fantasy Simulator

Early in the history of digital games, it was decided – with varying levels of commitment – that these new digital games would be (to varying degrees) “fantasy simulators”.  Very soon, we were introduced to the concept of “death” in games.  “Death” would almost always mean losing, or at least losing a “life”.  This was natural for games like Pac Man or Donkey Kong, where you’re controlling a sentient creature whose challenges – being chased by ghosts and being run-down by giant flaming barrels – were very much representative of something that would threaten such a creature.

But it didn’t stop there.  Completely abstract games also took on the “death” idea.  People would fill the well in Tetris, and an observer might note that you “died” at the end.

 

Actual Consequences

You may say, “so what?” to all of this.  The problem is that we’ve lost our ability to understand a fundamental concept of games:  the goal.  This focus on avoiding this thematic idea of “death” has blurred our vision to the point where people are actually unable to understand games at all.

A fantastic case in point is Tetris.  I have actually come across many people who seem to think that the “goal” in Tetris is “to survive” (we’ll get to the problem with that in a second), and possibly even more people who think that Tetris has no implicit goal – that it’s essentially a toy (like a ball, a flight simulator, or Minecraft) – and that any goals you have, you make up.

Let me first demonstrate, for anyone who is in doubt, that Tetris (I’m talking specifically here, NES Tetris… it’s possible that there is some new version that’s totally different) does have a very specific goal:  to get a high score (I talked about this a bit in my previous article, On Score). But quickly, here’s some evidence:

Firstly, the entire game is built around and balanced around a score system.  If score isn’t the goal – like if survival is the goal – then the clear optimal strategy is to always get single lines.  The entire system of comboing to get triples or Tetrises is totally stupid and should be entirely avoided.  Obviously, this also means that Tetris is a pretty shitty game, if that’s the case, as huge chunks of the design are just false choices.

Secondly, the game plays a triumphant fanfare, and plays a short movie of a rocket taking off when you’ve gotten a high score.  The higher the score, the more fantastic a movie is displayed.

Third, it says the point of the game is to get a high score in the fucking manual.  RTFM, people!

There, I went and highlighted the important parts for you.

But finally, and this is the most important one:  in Tetris, “death”, or filling the well, is inevitable(for 99.999% of all players, the ones who aren’t willing to do this kind of shit).  So which of the two makes more sense:  that the game end condition is inevitable, or that the game loss condition is inevitable?

The Goal is to Survive, Obviously!

What exactly does “survival” mean?  At what point have you survived?  An hour?  Ten hours?  Not to get involved in political matters, but it actually reminds me a lot of the current US involvement in Afghanistan.  The stated goal there is to essentially “keep terrorists from having a safe haven there”.  Well, at what point have we done that?  I assume we’ve done it for a decade now, so… how much longer do we have to do it before it’s done?

For this reason, many people consider Tetris (and the Afghanistan war) a “game that cannot be won”.  Well, frankly, a game that cannot be won is not a game.  Games are a type of contest – there must be a possibility of losing and winning.  In fact, it is definitely reasonable to say that if you cannot win, then you also cannot lose.  Can it be considered “losing” when the alternative was literally completely not even an option?  If the game was lost before you even started, how is it even a game at all?

 

Games have Goals, and Games have Game-End Conditions

The fact is that many of you have won Tetris many times over – and Pac-Man, and Donkey Kong, and Galaga, because these are all score-based games.  Many people think that they have never won in these games because they are erroneously tying “death” to the “goal” of the game.  In these games, “death” is actually just the game end condition.  Playing European boardgames such as Puerto Rico or Through the Desert, or sports such as Soccer or Baseball allow us to see the difference between “losing” and “the game ending” very clearly.  All game designers need to know what their “game end conditions” and their “game loss conditions” are from the outset, because everything else in the game is using this as its context.

I should briefly mention that there are examples of games wherein the game-end and game-loss condition are tied together.  Any direct-combat game, such as Street Fighter, StarCraft or Yomi: Fighting Card Game will have their game end-condition trigger on a game-loss trigger.  Usually, it’s when someone reaches zero health or zero of some other resource (in StarCraft, that would be number of buildings), the game loss  is triggered for that player, and the game end is also triggered.  But this is a very specific type of game, and tying these things together doesn’t work for all game-types.  Be conscious of when your game triggers its end, and what triggers a player “losing” or “winning”.

“Game End” and “Game Lost” are not the same thing, but “Game Over” has sort of done that to us.  It’s yet another way in which we have gotten so, so lost in these early days of digital games.

False Choice: Bad for Stories, Bad for Games, Inevitable in Story-Games

We at Dinofarm enjoy great things.  A screenplay is great when an empathic link is forged between audience and character through a seamless, delicately woven web of plot threads.  Eventually, a profound value is revealed after a surprising, yet inevitable climax.  Such a screenplay can change someone’s  life, or at the very least, lead to weeks of contemplation.

A great game can lead to the same kind of enrichment, but does so in its own ways.  After several matches of games like Go, Texas Hold ‘Em or Tetris, the mind is tickled in a way that only great games can tickle it.  They too cause contemplation, but not in the same way a narrative does.  Great games leave a person pondering over the deep possibility space they have only just begun to see.  A true lover of any great game will lay in bed and dream up new, lateral, creative ways to overcome the infinite challenges that lie in this ocean of a game space.

In thinking about it, I have come to the conclusion that both mediums, while inherently very different, do have a strong corollary, and that corollary is real, meaningful decisions. Again, since both mediums are so inherently different, this is going to mean something different for each, but just the same, it all comes down to choice.  Real choice.

I’m no expert in fiction, but I am an avid hobbyist, and have taken to considerable self-study.  In these pursuits, I have discovered some useful lenses through which I evaluate the stories I take in.  I became interested in learning why it is I like a character and why I care about what happens to him.

 

Character Development

I’ve observed that “character development” is a term thrown around by every moviegoer age 13 and upward, and every discussion I have on the matter seems to yield a different definition of the word.  To many, “Character Development” is simply a combination of backstory, physical descriptions and expository dialogue.  Many friends of mine through the years have complained, upon exiting the theater featuring the latest superhero movie, that the story was “okay, but lacked character development.”  If I were to ask them what they meant, they too would probably turn to backstory, description and more expository dialogue.  I argue that this does just as little, in many cases, to develop a character as the senseless action everyone complains about.

First I should point out what I believe the goal of character development to be.  I believe that it’s all about forging an empathic link with the character, so that when the climax arrives, we feel what they feel.  Whatever life-changing value they take away from that climax, we too must take.  If that is our goal for character development, then character development must lie in the character making ambiguous, tough, irreversible decisions under pressure, the outcome of which is surprising, yet inevitable.

Suprising, Yet Inevitable

This is the holy grail of storytelling.  Anyone could do surprising(“and then our heroes were….TELEPORTED BY A MAGICAL DOLPHINOID ALIEN”) which, on its own, is cheap.  Anyone could do inevitable(“She gets pulled over by a cop as she speeds to her son’s big game.  Her excuses don’t work until she decides to tell the TRUTH and the cop goes ‘i’ll let you off with a WARNING.’*cue 90s orchestra theme*”) which we buy out of because it satisfies our predictions 1 to 1.  It’s my belief that only when you get the audience to say “I can’t BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED….but…it couldn’t have happened any other way…” do you have a great story.  It’s so… hard to do.  I certainly can’t do it!  And it only comes from real, ambiguous choice, or dilemma.

We’re all unconsciously familiar with the power of dilemma in our stories, and we’re also unconsciously offended by its opposite: FALSE CHOICE. Somewhere along the line, Hollywood headhunters hired to find great screenplays and spruce them up for blockbuster appeal must have read at some point that “The hero must have a choice to make at the climax.”  Apparently not understanding why this is so important to the art of story, they often shoehorn in these choices when there really isn’t a choice to make.  It’s the illusion of choice. All the dramatic music and earth-shattering deliveries of an A-lister cannot make the choice real.  And our brains know it deep down.

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