Friday, May 30, 2008
And with that, goodnight.
Of course, nothing develops one's appreciation for the difficulty of creating balanced games more than attempting to create custom levels that end up ridiculously unbalanced. This is what happened to us that night. After a few rounds of Slayer we tired of getting masacred by the one among us who was actually decent at the game, and decided to create our own custom level. Suffice to say the result wasn't what we expected.
We decided to go for an all-out power level, hoping for quick, explosive fun. Shields were turned up, regeneration turned up and all weapons turned off except for grenades, rockets and the energy sword. The level wasn't unbalanced as such (we were all equally balanced in our excessive power), but rather was just not at all fun. The combination of higher shields and faster regen served to make the rockets and grenades completely useless. It was impossible to actually kill anyone. The inclusion of the energy sword turned out to be a lucky save, as the instant-kill assassination was the only possible way to get a kill. This simple example served to highlight how easy it is to throw the balance of a game out of whack.
It also reminded me of another custom level I played with some friends soon after Halo was released. This level was both balanced and fun, simple yet highly enjoyable. Teams consisted of two people. Players were invincible, weapons were once again rockets and grenades only, and ammo was infinite. So far this sounds like a rather pointless / boring level. However, total kills was not the aim of this level. Each team had a Mongoose (the 2-man quad bike), and each level had several check-points. The aim was to race to the newest checkpoint (which would change when someone reached it). The team that reached the checkpoint limit first won. Combine these elements together and it made an exceptionally fun level - fast-paced navigation of dubious terrain whilst being hounded by grenades and missiles...
Ah the joys of having free time...
Thursday, May 29, 2008
More random musings
Throughout the course of the semester I've been reading a series of books by author Robin Hobb called the Liveship Traders, and I've been thinking that these books could provide a foundation for quite an interesting MMO. The books are fantasy but have a very different focus to many other fantasy books that I've read. The story has very little in the way of magic and sorcery, or epic battles, or heroic quests. Instead, it focuses on the lives of Traders and Pirates (and talking liveships).
As I've previously mentioned in posts, I'm interested in examining how MMO games in particular could be created with a variety of alternative avenues for a player to follow to get satisfaction. These books have prompted a lot of these thoughts. The books create an enthralling environment and narrative without reverting back to the combat-based backbone of fantasy. Surely it would be possible to implement a similar model inside a game? I believe there is great potential to explore such options in an MMO framework due to the implicit social and widespread nature of the game. Most single player games are bound to a critical path, where a player must fill a certain role. In MMO games however, there can be many different paths, and different players can progress along different paths without it hindering the progression of the game itself.
I've been wondering how feasible it would be to implement different paths into a game, and whether the end product would be fun and playable. In most current MMOs that Iknow of, a player can choose a class, and each class has a different approach and play-style, but at the end of the day the main mechanic for player progression is combat. What about if other mechanics were introduced, such as becoming a Trader or a Merchant, or a Craftsman, or a Scholar? I can't say whether this would be fun, but I'm certain that it could be made to be fun. Just as there are people in life who enjoy and choose to follow such paths, so too would they appeal to players in-game. Furthermore, it could open up whole new avenues of exploration and progression in the games industry.
Betrayed
The reason I bring this up is 1) because that video is awesome and 2) I've been thinking about betrayal in terms of multiplayer games and how current game systems could be extended. It strikes me that there really aren't any games that leverage the fun and extensibility that could come from a properly developed betrayal framework. Multiplayer games long ago grasped the concept of team play. Many FPS and other styles of games have grasped the concept of betrayals as well, insofar as you can intentionally or otherwise betray a team member. However, this is in the form of A betrays B, B verbally abuses A, A loses 1 or 2 points and that's it.
What would be really intresting is a game system with a team dynamic that not only allowed betrayals, but provided a framework where betrayal could become just as valid a means of success as team-work. God knows it's used all the time in the real-world, why not in game.
The problem as I see it is that for the vast majority of online games, teams are fixed at game commencement and remain throughout the duration of the round. I know there exist quite a few RTS games that actually employ quite invloved systems of alliances (and betrayals as well) and I think this is great. What I would really like to see is this idea expand out of the strategy genre into other games, particularly MMORPGS and FPSs. Just because the game might not involve managing armies and an economy doesn't mean it has no strategy, and certainly doesn't mean that alliances should play no part.
"Is it time for another group meeting?" I ponder. You groan
Interestingly, even my recent negative group experience was somewhat helpful to my creative process. Well it would've been if I was in the process of developing a new fighter game / FPS or other general 'murder simulator'. But I'm not. So in hindsight the experience was completely useless.
So moving on... The above experience hinted at was not in relation to my 016 group. In that, I've been lucky enough to be in a group with someone I seem to work well with. Or rather not work well with. Meaning we both don't work, and we do it well.
I spose this group has impacted somewhat on my creative process, but as mentioned in previous posts that process has been somewhat stunted recently. Of course, working in a group with someone you're friends with is a bonus - there's that extra element of honesty (even if it's only a flicker before the façade is put up) that lets you know when your idea is complete crap. Having this assessment come from a friend I find makes it seem less of a personal assault, and allows me to quickly move on from ideas that are destined to crash and burn.
Right Int'er Face!
Interface design is an area which is often given too little thought. So many programs are released with absolutely shocking interfaces, yet we still use them simply because we require the program and the task(s) it performs. With games, however, a good interface design is much more important. Games are all about player interaction, and the interface is the means for that interaction. So crap interface = no players = no money = no moving out of mum’s basement.
The key, according to Norman, is to minimise the size of the Gulf of Execution and the Gulf of Evaluation. However, there’s more to it than that. Within a game, the developer has to be able to allow the user to accurately interpret the goals, accurately interpret the appropriate actions to achieve the goals, and finally be able to carry out those actions in a natural and intuitive manner. It is this final element that can often be quite difficult.
In the case of a console game, all player interaction needs to be confined to the limitations of whatever control system is employed, generally a game controller with a handful of buttons and joysticks. Without thinking too deeply about it, Gears of War jumps to mind as being a game which makes brilliant use of the limited controller ‘real-estate’ available. The interface for GoW is very intuitive, and was easy to pick up through the duration of the short tutorial. It allowed for the very efficient and fast-paced control style needed to match the pace of the game. Furthermore, the visual interface was just as intuitive and uncluttered as the control system, allowing a player to very quickly gain all relevant information to the goals at hand. Other than learning the basic controls (like which button I should avoid pressing if I don’t want to blow up a team-mate), I don’t remember finding a single element of the UI difficult to interpret or follow.
This simple yet intuitive display should be the aim of every game, in my opinion. However, creation of such a simple interface becomes significantly more difficult when the complexity of the game moves beyond simply blowing up underground mutant creatures.
Puberty Blues
I believe Sutton-Smith forgot a primary social role that is present in almost all multiplayer games that I can think of.
- Role: To whinge, bitch, gripe, moan, complain and generally annoy
- Motive of Play: Puberty, or lack of skill
- Role of Counteractor: To make fun of, insult, patronise and generally abuse
I believe that this role is present in any form of social play, whether video-game, board game, sport or other outdoor activity. Although this role is not always present at the commencement of play, or throughout early stages, it is almost guaranteed to be adopted at some stage if play is able to continue long enough.
Early schoolyard games such as tiggy (tag) or Piggy in the Middle are classic examples: there’s always one kid that raises all hell when it’s his/her turn to be ‘it’, or in the middle. So maybe puberty can’t be blamed here (although lack of skill often can be), but puberty comes into it’s own as we move through school years.
The best example I can think of is handball. At least at my school, handball was (and I believe still is) the lifeblood of year 8. There are the kids who play every morning tea and lunch time, the ones that run out of class to get the courts first and then only allow their top 6 ranked friends to play with them (these rankings change daily). Whilst winning, all is fine but the moment you get them out and try to get them to move, they’ll behave as if you tried to steal their first-born. Indeed, I believe the majority of fights in high school could be avoided by installing slow-motion replay cameras (such as they have at the tennis) for all handball courts.
This same trend can be seen in so many online video games, and generally follows someone getting a headshot on pubescent little Billy (CounterStrike anyone?). Other games don’t even require a certain event to trigger this role. Take for example either the Trade channel or Barrens chat in World of Warcraft. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, I truly envy you.
Getting Emotional
I’ve been thinking a bit recently about emotions that a game can evoke in a player, and what sort of games typically evoke emotions in me (and what sort of emotion). To be honest, I can’t remember too many games having that great an affect on me emotionally. Of course, that’s only true if I’m talking about a) long term emotion or b) emotion other than frustration / anger / short term adrenaline-related emotions. If I consider these latter emotions, plenty of games fit the profile: Mario Kart, Donkey Kong (the original)… actually essentially any game gets *some* sort of emotional response, which is why I’m not considering that sort of response, and am instead looking at the deeper side of things – games that evoke / provoke strong emotional responses such as affectionate attachment to characters, sadness (or happiness), or anger (the kind you get when reading a really well written villain who is undermining the extremely lovable hero).
Well, with those criteria, I have to say my list came up blank. I could *consider* Final Fantasy VII, but I don’t think I’m kidding myself when I say that even that game, enthralling as the story was, didn’t draw me in and create an emotional attachment beyond the scope of the game. I think the interactivity created by the game actually serves for me to create a level of detachment from the story that wouldn’t be present if I was reading a book. Or perhaps a book just contains the extra detail needed to really hook me in.
I compare games to books because I frequently develop emotional attachments to characters in books. Almost every novel I read evokes an emotional response from me; if it doesn’t, I rarely finish it. I’ve played some games that have some pretty involved storylines, but I’ve never found a game that can replicate the feeling of attachment that a book can evoke.
An interesting concept was raised in our lecture on designing for effect: the idea of artificial player emotion. Essentially it was stated that “emotion in games is artificial because as a designer, you are deliberately aiming to provoke a specific emotion or set of emotions in your player”. I think in that sentence lies the answer to why games fail to evoke the same emotions in me that a good book would. Emotional response is not something that should specifically be targeted and designed for. It’s something that should emerge naturally from good design. A good author doesn’t (or in my opinion shouldn’t) set out to write a chapter with the aim “this chapter will be sad and will make the reader cry”. Rather, the author should set out with the aim “in this chapter I’m going to tell the story of Sally’s death”. If the story is well written, and the event is sad, the emotion will be evoked in the reader. By specifically targeting the emotion however, I believe something is lost in the purity of the event, and it often places a barrier between the reader / player, and the desired emotion.
Designing specifically to get an emotional response seems to me to be a backwards way to do things. The emotional response should not be the target of design, but rather the proof of good design.