Shattered War: The Many Faces of Dialogue

When people think of dialogue in a roleplaying game, frequently mentioned items tend to be the content, the player responses, the player's choice and the quality of the voice acting (if it exists). Lower on the list of things mentioned tend to be the expression or movements of the virtual actors, except for when they are notably bad. A twisted head or a cross eyed expression will draw some raised eyebrows, but a wooden performance will not.

Working within the bounds of the Dragon Age toolset, it's impossible to break free of the "BioWare face" for the NPCs within the game. NPCs can gesticulate fairly wildly, and sometimes in a fashion that makes absolutely no sense in the context of their conversation. So such, it comes down to me to manually tweak the animations for each line of dialogue within the game after I've received the final recording from the relevant voice actor. I've been doing this a lot lately, so I thought I'd talk about some of the associated issues in today's post.

Stay a while and listen. Wait, that's not my line...

Now while this might seem like a fairly trivial and insignificant thing to some readers/players, having believable gestures actually goes a long way to assisting the believability of the delivery of the lines. If someone is upset or angry, they're more likely to wave their hands about, and they're more likely to move them faster. Someone who is calm and confident is much more likely to have smaller and/or slower movements while they're talking. Manually adjusting these actions can support the delivery of the line, or help uncover the truth that the character is trying to hide.

However, if you study people in real life, you may notice that some people barely gesture at all. Now while it should follow that some characters should also not gesture, this should be kept to a minimum. Even small and subtle movements suggesting some type of body language can make a big difference in helping convey the line delivered by the character.

The other key part of adapting the character to the delivery of the line is their expression. This can make a huge difference in how the line comes across while viewing it. The exact same line can give  a different impression upon the player when combined with the facial expression. Take the following screenshot for comparison:

Neutral, happy, and coy

These three different facial expressions, especially when carried through the delivery of the line, convey quite a different feel to the player as they are watching. The expression can help convey a subtext for the character's emotions that would not be present otherwise. A nervous or worried expression while talking about another person can help imply that they care for that person, adding an extra depth to the character that never has to be explicitly stated, but can be determined by the player through the combination of voice acting and facial expressions.

So every single line you'll see in The Shattered War has been watched and listened to by me, and for a significant percentage, I will have manually adjusted the emotional expression and hand and arm gestures, and/or body and head movements for those lines. I'll also have picked which camera angle I want to use, and any transitions that occur. Dialogue is a very important part of The Shattered War, so I want to make sure that every single line is as good as I can make.

Level Design: Details and randomness

Level design is a finicky business. It's very enjoyable and rewarding, but it's crucial to pay attention to those small details. I'm not just talking about making sure people can't see things that they're not supposed to see or to make sure that things aren't floating in the air, although those are very important things too.  The point here is to make sure that items in your level are placed with purpose and that you're using them to build an aesthetic, but not make them seem too ordered.

Let's talk about what I mean with some examples from the level I've been working on.  Again, keep in mind that these are toolset shots of a work in development, so it's not using proper lighting and rendering. Basically what I'm saying is that it'll look better when you see it in The Shattered War.

An approach shot

When the player sees this particular house, this is roughly the angle they'll be coming from. They might notice the cylindrical pole up top (put there to obscure holes in the model's roof), the upright pole, and the chopping block and giant logs in the background. These likely become increasingly more noticeable and aim to paint a picture about the house. You'll also note that the house model I picked also looks like it's been cobbled together with beams and boards. The barrels and crates can also support the idea that it's still not quite finished.

One other issue with this house it that it needs to block off access to a more gentle incline that would lead off the edge of the map. In order to fit this need, I extended this concept of the house being worked on, by adding a whole lot more wooden struts, rubble and building clutter behind the house, in a seemingly semi-random fashion. It all should "fit" together, but it can't do so in a tidy way.

Looking behind the house

Here is looks like either the wood is being used to support the house, or that further work still needs to be done. This both augments the visual theme of the house while fulfilling the functional needs of the level. While it's not really realistic for anything else to be built on the end of the house as it is, that suggestion makes the player realise that they can't walk there, so won't attempt to, or if they do, won't be surprised/annoyed when they can't.

Taking another example from the same level of a vegetable garden in front of a house, it was necessary to do a few things to fill in here. Of course, for the most part, it's quite possible to just trample over the garden, unlike the wood mess.

Virtual vegetables

The first step is with the terrain itself, lowering the "garden beds" and texturing them to be dirt instead of grass. This gives the impression that they've been dug out slightly. Putting down the plants was the next step, mixing and matching them to get a spread of crops. While in reality people would likely plant an entire row of plants the same, this kind of mix and match approach is more visually interesting. However, separating each row with wooden planks helps to reinforce a "planned" feel of a real garden, as do the fences on either end. There are also a bunch of tools stacked up against the house wall near the garden, indicating that it's well tended.

The trick here is to ensure that you have an "idea" for what something is going to look like and not be wholly bound but what would be occur in the real world. The trick is to make something look believable and have a feel that fits while still making it look interesting and slightly random or chaotic. A truly regimented appearance is generally not aesthetically pleasing, and should usually only be used if you're trying to create a setting that specifically has that high degree of order.

Level Design: One Simple Idea

Level design is both extraordinarily complex and mind numbingly simple. In essence, a level must be aesthetically pleasing and functional for gameplay.  Simply put, it must look good and it must let the player play the game. Unfortunately, that is not a straightforward task. To demonstrate some of my thought processes, here's some of the steps I've taken on a level I'm currently working on.

As I've stated previously, I always try to start with some kind of idea or map sketch. For this level, I started with a map. (Forgive my pictures here, as I've quickly sketched these on the computer because I don't have a scanner) My first idea looked a little like this:

Draft map

This is a simple design, a dual level area, with a stream off to the side. A few extra buildings would added here and there. The main problem is that this just didn't inspire me. Functionally it works, and there is the potential for it to look good, but it lacked "one simple idea". What I mean is the idea of a single view within the level that inspires you, and hopefully the player. You may end up with more than one of these per level, but you should make sure you have at least one of these in your mind before start building the level in an editor.

I attempted to try and rework this idea a few times, but I couldn't manage to get something that really appealed to me. The thing to do in this circumstance is to throw it away. If you have to work really hard to make something feel right, you're better off trying a completely new tack. You may end up returning to this idea at a later date and turning it into something you do like, but you need to be willing to throw away ideas that don't work. So I drew this instead:

Take 2

I came up with this idea after wandering around in some bushland and combining different fragments of the landscape that I'd seen. The four trees in the middle on the edge of the cliff were my "one simple idea", and the view of a tower on the hill in the corner was another. Aesthetically I had more ideas that appealed to me and that I wanted to create. The only real problem I felt was that there could be a bit of backtracking, so I decided to add in a set of steps on the right hand side, which both would prevent that from occurring and also potentially add in another nice visual cue.

I'm part way through developing the level now, so I won't really show much of it, but here's the view that started as the core idea for this level. It doesn't look that great because it's using default lighting and isn't decorated much, but the kernel of the visual appearance I had in mind is there.

One simple idea

The final thing to remember is that fluidity in the design as it translates into an actual level is necessary. My final level will not end up looking exactly like the map as it was originally drawn, but the key visual and functional elements will still stay there. I've already made adjustments in terms of locations and tweaked the structure of the level, but the core layout for movement and the "visual cues" that I want to have present will all be there in the release version of the level.

Level reuse guidelines

I thought I'd go into a bit more detail on the subject of level reuse and cover some rough guidelines on things that work and things that don't. I'll use some examples to compare and contrast different examples where possible - as level reuse has been present in games for quite some time.

Don't reuse plot critical areas
This is Dragon Age 2's main failing. Areas that are home to crucial areas of the plot are locations the player has visited potentially dozens of times before as meaningless and nondescript places  used for sidequests. It ruins any sense of exploration and the sense that something new is occurring, because it's simply reminding the player of the sidequest they did 30 minutes ago... and 30 minutes before that... and 30 minutes before that...  Alternatively, if you consider Mass Effect 1, you'll see that while it potentially featured just as much level reuse as Dragon Age 2, all of the generic levels (with slightly different arrangements of crates) were for side-quests. Optional content that while interesting, wasn't part of the main plot and climatic events of the game. This is why I found the original Halo dull after the halfway point, because the second half of the game was mostly just traveling in reverse of what you'd already done.

Use it as background
Like Sundermount in Dragon Age 2, try to use larger (outdoor) areas as different components. Dragon Age Origins did this with a number of its random encounter areas - several were part of the one "map", but the player could only see a small part of the map at any given section. The additional areas were merely background - area that the player could see and made their current surroundings real, but not accessible to walk. By doing this, none of the effort of level design is wasted (because all of the walkable area is used), but because the different component areas form the vista (partially) visible from the others, each area will feel unique rather than feeling like the same cookie cutter areas. Of course, if it's combined with the above point, then you're even more off the hook.

You saw that wall and mountain in the background from a few different areas

Limit reuse
This might seem like a no-brainer, but it warrants saying. Don't re-use levels too much. If player keep seeing exactly the same terrain over and over again, they're going to get bored. It doesn't matter how pretty it is, they're going to find it tedious. When we're talking a single player experience, especially a narrative based experience, you have to present the player with something new, because otherwise it doesn't feel to them like the surroundings are progressing with the story. Even if the setting is set in the same location over a long period of time, it should undergo cosmetic changes to demonstrate the effect of previous events within the story.

Reuse segments, not everything
Wherever possible, try to avoid reusing an entire level wholesale. If you can fragment a level and potentially present the player with those segments in a different order (or even leaving out bits entirely), then the player will likely see the deception, but is more likely to accept it as a reasonable effort to keep things interesting. Missions within sandbox games (e.g. GTA series) do this brilliant, as do many driving games. They have the player travel through part of a level they've already seen, then introduce new segments that they haven't seen. Designers can also get the player to come through the area from a different angle; have them go backwards through the level instead of fowards. Dragon Age 2 attempted to do this to a degree, but due to failiings in the above areas, it's reuse still grated on players.

This outdoor setting was used in its entirety every time

So there's a few simple pointers in terms of how to manage level reuse in games. Reuse isn't always bad, but if you're reusing levels, make sure that it is a conscious choice and reasoned decision to reuse an area rather than simply "we didn't have the time/budget to do a new level." If you're doing that, then you're game already contains one design flaw that could have been avoided.

Those little things

Sometimes life gets in the way of modding. Between work, social, musical and exercise commitments, not mention the daily routine of making sure I'm eating well and not living in a pig-sty, things have to fall off my to-do list.  Blogging tends to be the first cap off the rank there, hence why I've been a bit quiet of late. This is not to say that I haven't been thinking about game design or doing modding.

So when life gets in the way and I can't sit down for a long stint at the computer to mod for The Shattered War, I need small tasks that I can complete in short bursts.  So this is where it comes down to leaving "the little things" in a list to come back to when I have 15-30 minutes to spare rather than an hour or more.

First item on this list is processing VO lines that have been sent from voice actors. The first step here is to make sure the volume is consistent with all other lines in the mod. Sometimes this means decreasing the volume of the recording, other times increasing it, and other times I may need to do both to increase or decrease the overall volume range of the line. Once this is done, there's frequently a soft pop or tongue click that's not very audible by default, but would be in the final delivery. Then there's clipping or inserting silence at the beginning or end of each line to make sure that each line isn't just running into the next one.

Even fast talkers have to pause between sentences

The next item is codex entries, and this is an important one for me. I know some people will never check the codex once to check out the backstory of people, places or items, but for me this is a vital part of the modding process. Sure, I'm playing within the existing world of Thedas, but I'm exploring territory not really covered elsewhere, so I have a little freedom to provide background on the locations the player will visit. Every place has its own unique tales and pieces of folklore, and locations in The Shattered War are no different. The same applies to characters the players will meet, and the unique items they could acquire.

Add a couple of dozen codex entries for locations alone...

More recently, I've been looking at the various bits of text you read during load screens. Whether it's an area transition or loading a save, players deserve to see bits of information relevant to their current adventure rather than just generic bits of information recycled from the core campaign.  I want to make sure that players aren't disappointed when they are waiting on those loading screens and have something new and interesting to read.

Some of these are "little things" that many players (and modders) are often less fussed about, but I'm keen to make sure that these small touches of polish are present to make The Shattered War a more complete gaming experience. Are there any other things in this vein that players appreciate? If so, let me know those little things which really appeal to your sense of enjoyment and engagement.

Hacking minigames: Lessons learned

In my recent post on minigames, I discussed hacking minigames within BioShock, Fallout 3, Mass Effect 2, Alpha Protocol and Deus Ex: Human Revolution. With varying strengths in style, aesthetics and gameplay, these five titles demonstrate good and bad aspects of mini-game design.  There are a few specific points on which they help demonstrate how "good" minigames can be made.

Fallout 3's hacking demonstrates why a minigame should not be logic-based. For any minigame, the problem space is going to be relatively small (hence why it's a minigame), and it will be repeated a number of times.  Given these constraints, it will not take the average player long to determine an optimal means to succeed and hence effectively remove any challenge it poses.  At this point, the minigame no longer presents a challenge, but merely occupies time - it becomes "filler content", a chore rather than enjoyment.

If players wanted to grind, they'd play an MMO

Deus Ex: Human Revolution doesn't quite present a logic puzzle, but it is a strategy based minigame. However, the strength of its strategy is weakened by the strong role played by random chance. Strategy games such as Total War do not rely so heavily on randomness (though it does exist), because a primary reliance on chance as a deciding factor only serves to aggravate the strategist player. Worse still, as the player upgrades their hacking abilities, devices with lower security ratings become trivial to defeat, while higher rated devices exacerbate the random nature rather than skill because of the rapid pace with which they will trace the player and cause them to fail the hack.

This brings us to several key elements of a mini-game:
1) A minigame should not rely on logic.
2) A minigame should not rely primarily on chance.
3) A minigame should not be trivial.

So now having identified things a minigame should not be, the question then is what should it be?  First and foremost, it must be simple. A minigame is a small mechanic, which should be simple to grasp. Secondly, it should require skill to succeed rather than luck. It must be up to the player's judgement and/or reflexes that primarily determines their success, not an invisible random number generator. I imagine there are some people that might argue that they have favourite minigames that do not follow these tenets, but for the most part, these two simple rules should suffice.

Rockstar realised that even poker should have a "skill" mechanic added

Why? Because they're the hallmark of popular web-based and mobile games; the casual gaming market. That's right, professional game designers on AAA titles have something to learn from indie, mobile and web game designers. These games have simple mechanics that are easily understandable, repeatable, and are enjoyable to boot. I'm not suggesting that I want to see Angry Birds in Mass Effect 3, but Mass Effect 2 already had a simple "turret defence" minigame that was infinitely more enjoyable than planet scanning. Tried and true "classic" gaming mechanics adapted to new settings and designs are what will make for engaging mini-games.

This might seem to suggest that I'm stifling creativity here and suggesting games not advance in style or invent new mechanics. I wouldn't advocate that for a moment. But, if you consider your game as an overall package, where do you want to push the boundaries of creativity and flair? Is it in the mini-games, or the core mechanics of the gameplay itself? If you're aiming solely for the former, then perhaps you're designing the wrong type of game. This isn't to say that minigames can't be original, and indeed, new games and minigames are created all the time; but if you're looking to create something new, these classic mechanics are where you should look for inspiration.

Encourage players towards mastery

In my last post I talked about the game Darksiders and some of its shortcomings in relation to gameplay.  One area that I thought the game was quite fun for the most part was in its fighting mechanics.  As a beat-em-up game, it is mandatory that these mechanics be enjoyable.  However, there is one significant deficiency in how the combat plays out that fails to capitalise on a potential means to improve it: the game does not provide incentives for players to master of the fighting mechanics.

The immediate and knee-jerk retort to this criticism is that the incentive is "not dying", which is accurate. However, this ignores the vast potential for improvement in the form of player-defined challenge.  This is whereby players set themselves goals above and beyond what are enforced by the mechanics of the game itself. In stealth games, it may not just be to survive the level, it may be to do the entire level without being seen. Or it could to an entire level and to leave everything exactly how it was before the player entered - every door opened is shut, any light turned off is turned back on, any item (barring that which the player intends to steal) is returned to its rightful place. Other genres might see the player attempt a "no-reload" challenge, or a speedrun to finish the game in the shortest time possible, among many other possibilities.

It's possible to finish Morrowind in under four and a half minutes

These examples push the boundaries of what most players might do, and in the case of speed runs often "break" the normal mechanics of the game. However, the concept of providing players with self-governed challenge above that provided by the game is not only a great way to encourage players to replay a game, but also to improve their skill in the mechanics of the game. For an example, let's compare Batman: Arkham Asylum (B:AA) to Darksiders.  In Darksiders, upon defeating an enemy, you claim "souls", typically blue souls, which represent the currency in the game used to buy items and upgrades. In B:AA, you gain experience from defeating enemies, which allows you to level-up and "buy" items and upgrades. The core difference is that B:AA actively rewards you based on how well you have mastered its combat system. Furthermore, it directly tells you what aspects of that combat system you have mastered.

These two games (as with many beat-em-ups) feature a "combo counter", keeping track of how many hit you've strung together in a sequence without missing or taking a blow. However, B:AA rewards the player who has a high maximum combo counter, using more challenging moves, and also for using a variety of different moves throughout the fight. It shows a separate message for each of these in an unobtrusive manner to show to the player how well they did in a particular fight. Furthermore, the "combat challenges" outside of the main story campaign push this concept even further, giving the player a points score based on their success, and allowing them to create a "leaderboard" of their scores and that of their friends.

How well did you do? Arkham Asylum tells you.

Darksiders on the other hand does none of this.  There is seemingly no benefit from generating large combos, and the game provides you no feedback about how well you are doing in combat besides the life meter of your character.  It's not even clear whether "instant-kill" moves that the player can do offer any additional benefit aside from killing an enemy quicker than they otherwise might.  It does incorporate fighting challenges into the main game, which offer additional souls based on your performance, but it never makes it clear exactly how much that bonus is - the player is merely left to guess how well they may or may not have done. These feel more like "training exercises" to teach the player particular basic mechanics and strategies rather than real "challenges". While this is appropriate given they are a mandatory part of the campaign, they lack the "challenge" of those in B:AA. Furthermore, they can't be repeated as individual challenges outside of the main campaign to allow the player to practice mastering a particular fighting technique or scenario.

Do I instant-kill or not? I don't know; the game doesn't tell me!

B:AA encourages players to master its mechanics, to practice and learn to excel. This sort of encouragement results in greater player engagement, because while they can just "muddle through" with enough talent to get by, most players will want to achieve and gain the rewards that come from increased skill. The key is to tell players what they are doing right, and assign them a clear and tangible benefit from doing so. Simply saying "bonus" without saying why, or worse, invisibly rewarding the player, does not provide them with any incentive to "do well".  Additionally, also make sure that this is done in an encouraging fashion. Don't penalise players for doing something wrong, but instead reward them for doing something right.

This encouragement will keep players coming back for more, make them want to improve their skills, master the mechanics of the game, and ultimately make them more engaged with the game - and an engaged and engrossed player is a happy player.

The Shattered War: Dialogue Update

It's been quite some time since I've done a Shattered War update, so I thought I'd let people know what I've been working on.

Dialogue has been the primary focus of my modding efforts in recent times, writing conversations involving the major characters in the mod. Now, while this may seem a little strange, given how long I've been working on the mod, and how much of the mod is done, but I find this approach works better for me. While in many cases I've already outlined the content of what will be included in these conversations, the actual spoken lines are usually not written until I'm happy that the overall content provides sufficient character depth and development.

However, in addition to writing dialogue, I've also received recordings for a number of characters from several of my voice actors. These wonderful people are offering their time for free, and helping to bring the people within the mod to life.

Part of a finished dialogue

Even this process of voice integration adds significant time to the production of a mod in order to make everything look right. The choice of camera shot, when to cut from one camera to another, what gestures the character should use, how they should stand and their facial expression all must be reviewed before a conversation can be considered "complete".

Neutral facial expressions or gestures that don't match with the line result in a disconnect with the dialogue, because it no longer looks "real". Players can and will pick up on abnormal movements, which will distract them from the true purpose of the cinematic dialogue in modern games: developing a believable scene in which the character can become emotionally invested. Characters whose facial expressions, gestures and tone of voice match to deliver an emphatic line help to give the player a reason to care about the adventure they are experiencing. It is up to the designer to make sure all those elements combine to give the most engaging scene to a player - and that is a responsibility that I take very seriously.

Developing a protagonist (Part 2)

In my last post I discussed the tendency of games to provide players with choices that were either good or evil or fell into "categorised" choices of personality.  One potential issue with such "choices" is that the player is not ever having to think about their protagonist's true character or how they would react in particular circumstances. These people are effectively metagaming, with only one option that they can pick during dialogue when making a decision, and that is based on a choice about the mechanics presenting the available personas to them. Such characters don't have the depth of a protagonist in film (or even in some games where the player gets no choice in terms of dialogue) because they operate on a predefined set of rules that can be very cleared outlined from very early on in the game.  If we're taking a good/evil dichotomy (as is common in many games), the delineation is simple:

Good: Selfless, will give up rewards, protects innocent people, hunts bad guys, etc, etc.
Evil: Selfish, will threaten/bully/kill to gain rewards, doesn't care about innocent deaths, kills anyone who gets in their way, etc, etc.

These two opposite ends of the spectrum don't offer a whole lot of depth in terms of personality. One's a rampant goody-two-shoes, the other an egotistical psychopath, and never shall the two meet.  Of course, this isn't to say that players can't decide to create a character with more depth that might provide a mixture of both personalities, but they need to be provided with reasonable choices in which to do so. Blanket black and white choices don't and can't provide this depth of character, even for the player who is trying to create it. We're frequently given choices equivalent to rescuing a stranded cat in a tree (and potentially breaking a limb in the process), or setting the tree on fire to incinerate both it and the cat. These aren't challenging choices that make for interesting or complex protagonists.

Rescue the innocent girl or "harvest her for power" isn't exactly a complex choice

Why should writers care about this? After all, flat characters can be a part of entertaining movies, and some of the best selling video games have featured some fairly uninspired and one-dimensional characters.  However, this comes down to whether the writer wants to convince the player to take on a predefined stereotype persona, or help them create a complex and meaningful character as they go through the game. If players are presented with choices that don't neatly fit into Good/Evil or Paragon/Renegade (and don't have gameplay mechanic implications associated with them) then they are more likely to analyse the choice they are about to make and try and develop a rationale behind their decision. The aim is to stop players from going "I'm being good" or "I'm being evil" but actually have them engage with the game to the extent that they are creating a multi-dimensional protagonist of their own imagining.

If we're dealing with a roleplaying game, should the writers not attempt to get the player to create a character equally as complex as a protagonist from other storytelling mediums? Should the designers not only facilitate but actively encourage players to create a fully fleshed out and realistic protagonist with a believable personality? The player may start the game with a shell of a protagonist, maybe even one of the three basic stereotypes listed above.  But by the end of a story with well-crafted decisions, they will have developed a character with a set of morals and values every bit as complex as the most fully realised characters within the game.

Faith really didn't gain any personality in Mirror's Edge

It should also be considered that some people play their protagonist as a virtual avatar - they "are" the protagonist within the game world, and make all decisions as though they are the main player in the story. Arguably, these players offer potentially the greatest reward for a writer: the ability to teach the player something about themselves. 

If a player is forced into a true dilemma where they are forced to pick between two very hard choices, then they will potentially learn something about themselves. Would they risk lives by letting a criminal go free and tracking him to potentially catch a bigger fish in the pond, or would they bring them in straight away? Would they allow a mother to sacrifice her life to save her son's, or would they risk both of their lives in an attempt to save them both?

Save a friend/ally/lover or the lives of strangers... now we're getting warmer.

The protagonist should be the most important and complex character within the story.  This axiom is commonly used when determining the overall worth or emotion or long-lasting impact of a film.  Given this is such an important aspect of storytelling in film, theatre and prose, why is it such a frequently neglected aspect of storytelling within computer games? Gordon Freeman is a blank, emotionless, silent slate: it is up to the player to "be" Gordon and provide him with their thoughts. War from Darksiders has little personality, and along with Marcus Fenix from Gears of War, is practically a static character despite the events within their respective games. Even Alan Wake, a story about a writer, has a personality that's almost as flat and lifeless as they come.

In part, this flat nature may be because these characters never really progress beyond the basic traits that are shown to the player in the earliest stages of the game. They're never forced to develop or show what they are made of besides the straightforward collection of stereotype traits because they're never placed in a situation where they have to make a tough choice. If the protagonist can be placed into a true dilemma, where there is no clear "right" or "wrong", then just as with other story telling mediums, they must display their true character and their values through this choice. These choices are where protagonists from other mediums really shine and mature as characters in front of the audience's eyes.

Games that feature defined characters where the player does not make key game decisions can and should evolve through the story. The protagonist is a willful character that the player is taking through the events of the game, so they should be placed into situations that will demonstrate their true personality and values to the player. This will let the player see more than just surface characterisation, and show a deep and complex protagonist. In Assassin's Creed, Altair goes from being self-centred and arrogant to a more humble and understanding hero. In Thief 2, Garrett leans to trust a former adversary and even laments her death.  These characters retain the core personality introduced very early on in the game, but grow and mature throughout their storytelling.

Garrett didn't let Viktoria die for nothing

If the player is defining the personality of the game's protagonist, force them to make situations that are truly dilemmas. Force them to pick between the lesser of two evils, or alternatively the greater of two goods. They might moan afterwards that they "had to play through the game twice" or "it didn't make that much difference" or "why couldn't I do both??!?", but ultimately this kind of choice makes the protagonist of the game more complex. This forces the player to examine what their character (or they themselves, if they are playing a "virtual protagonist") would do when placed into this situation. 
This is practically the ideal situation for a roleplaying game, as the player is truly forced to adopt a role.

However, there are two very important caveats when dealing with these types of choices. Make sure that these "true dilemmas" are not hamstrung by heavy-handed "alignment" systems that assign a "value" to each decision. If you have a good/evil scale (regardless of what your chosen axis/axes might be) do not modify it because of a player's choice in a "true dilemma". Doing so immediately assigns a value judgement to each option within the dilemma, which means that it is no longer a dilemma and hence the immense value of the choice is lost.

Why did Mass Effect 2 have to dish out paragon/renegade points?

The second caveat applies to all video game choices, but it is even more important when it comes to dilemmas: Don't have a protagonist say "why" they acting the way they are. For one, it sounds unnatural. Only the most poorly written characters verbosely explain the rationale for their actions, because people don't act that way in real life. Secondly, the player is the one making the decision, complete with their own rationale. There is no possible means for the designers to think of every possible rationale that players might have for making a decision, and attempting to do so will only annoy the players that have come up with something you haven't thought of. And that will probably happen in more cases than you would care to imagine.

Designer should be able to get players emotionally and mentally involved with protagonists by giving them true dilemmas to deal with. Let them evolve, grow and show real character and personality throughout the game, and you'll have a more interesting hero for your players to empathise with as they take that journey.

Party NPCs: Interaction Mechanics (Part 2)

My last post on NPC interaction mechanics focused on interactions initiated by the NPC's themselves.  Interjections and time-based dialogues would result in the NPC starting the conversation with the player rather than the player choosing to talk to the NPC. In today's post I'll cover two common mechanics used to control conversations and NPC relationships where the dialogue is initiated by the player.

Event-based
This is an easily understood mechanic that is used in many RPGs. When the player talks to an NPC, the responses they can give and the questions that the player can asked are based on the current events of the plot. If the player has just met the NPC, they will likely be able to ask them about how they came to be here, or their current situation.  As the game progresses, they might be able to ask them about previous victories or upcoming events.

Instead of having conversations based purely on specific events, the event-based option can also progress in a phased approach, as per Mass Effect or Mass Effect 2. In this case, it is often possible to be able to "progress" your personal (and/or romantic) relationship with a character after completing certain missions within the game. In Mass Effect, after every "core" mission, you can "do the rounds" and find out more about each of your party members.  In Mass Effect 2, the progression is not quite so clear cut, but you can regularly return to find out more about them... provided they're not "busy".

Enough with the damn calibrations already, Garrus!

There are definite advantages to this kind of phased approach.  For one, it allows the developer to space out the development of the relationship with the NPC. This prevents the possibility of the player exhausting a character's story arc or personal development in the early stages of the game by dishing it out at specified intervals. It is still the player's choice if they wish to find out about the character (unlike interjections or timed conversations), but it is done in such a manner that their character development can much both the actual and implied relationship between the player's character and the NPC. The direct relationship is the player's interactions, but the implied relationship is that suggested through the dialogue: e.g. passing mention of events that never actually occur within the game and the development of a relationship from being in close proximity to someone over a time in terms of the reality of the game world. These are things that the player infers would naturally happen; if you're traveling with someone for weeks and potentially months (or even years) on end as most RPGs tend to, it is natural that some sort of relationship (whether friendly or antagonistic) would form. The event-based mechanic implicitly plays upon this natural development of relationships.

Another positive is that the relevance of a discussion to recent or upcoming events helps to reinforce the consequences of past actions or increase the stakes of upcoming quests/missions. This is an excellent means to keep the tension and player motivation high. If a party NPC whom the player likes is telling them how important a particular quest is to them, then the player will be more likely to do it. Of course, the counterpoint is true also, if they don't like the party member, they might delay doing the quest until the latest possible moment out of spite. Provided that the character is being disliked because of the character's personality - rather than the lack thereof, poor writing, poor voice acting, or something similar - then this is still a positive outcome. Even if the player doesn't like the character, they've still had an emotional reaction which increased their engagement with the game. The player might begrudgingly complete the quest in the end, but in the meantime they've gained enjoyment from not doing so, and in some cases they might choose to not do it at all.

Some people wanted to kill off crew members

The major drawback to this approach is the visibility of mechanism. It's frequently obvious to the player what is happening. In Mass Effect 1, it quickly became obvious that the player could only progress a relationship after a "core" mission. In Mass Effect 2, the progression was less clear, resulting in annoying situations where the player would talk to everyone only to be given a stock line indicating the NPC had nothing new to say. Garrus' "Can it wait? I'm in the middle of some calibrations" line was so frequently repeated due him typically being one of the first crew members to be collected, and having a relatively small number of dedicated conversations.

The blatant nature of the conversation mechanic means that it can make the relationship feel artificial. Without some supplemental conversations in other areas, it can feel extremely mechanical and forced, meaning that it loses much of the emotional impact or connection with the character. This isn't to say that it is impossible, but it the player is acutely aware that the only reason for the culmination of the relationship (particularly if it's a romantic one) is because the final battle is just about to start, then it will likely feel less important.

Approval based
The mechanic relies on an existing "approval" system being built into the game's logic. This kind of system has been built into many games, where the player's friendship with an NPC is given some sort of numerical value dictating how "friendly" the relationship is. This number might not ever be explicitly shown to the player, maybe just as a measure on a scale or possibly not even shown at all, but it the key that drives the conversation mechanic. This played a key part in development of the relationships within Dragon Age: Origins, and the nature of the relationships within Dragon Age 2.

Friendship or Rivalry: which dictates your NPC relationship?

The key issue here is that it is the approval rating value that provides access to new conversation options. Much like with the event based system, new conversations will not open up until the approval reaches a set point. This has the advantage of feeling much more organic than the event based system, as approval may increase through the player's decisions with the player in the party, providing gifts (as per Dragon Age: Origins) or other external factors. This makes the relationship feel much more believable, particularly when the player is traveling with the party member and performing actions on which the NPC approves of, as it gives the impression the the NPC is "opening up" to the player character because they trust them more and more.

At a first glance, this seems like a fantastic system, until some of the ramifications and dependencies are analysed. For starters, this implies that the player is going to have a relationship such that the NPC's approval moves a large amount (in either direction) across the course of the game. Without this change in approval, additional options are never unlocked, and the character feels flat and lifeless. Players who perform actions which both anger and please an NPC run the risk of not seeing of their character at all because the approval rating stays at a fairly neutral state. Furthermore, it will likely be necessary to write a lot more dialogue to account for the potential that the NPC may hate or mistrust the player, or alternatively trust them or love them entirely. These cases should require vastly different dialogue for a well written character, particularly if the player is pursuing a romance.

Are we talking love-hate or love-love?

Another potential issue is the ability of the player to short-circuit the relationship early on in the game. If the player has access to gifts, then it is potentially possible to increase the approval rating of an NPC to a significant extent early on in the game, opening up all the conversation options as a result. This can quickly develop and subsequently exhaust all the conversation options with a character very quickly, having them declare their undying love for the player near the very beginning of the game. This is more artificial and undermines the believability of the NPC far more than the event based system ever could.

This is also a potential problem when dealing with the natural gains of approval throughout the game. Often an NPC's approval will be modified because of a player's actions, but only if the NPC witnesses it first-hand, i.e. they are in the player's traveling party at the time. Metrics collected from RPGs have suggested that most players tend to have one specific party for the majority of the game and rarely deviate from that group of players, at least for a first playthrough. Despite this, there will typically be enough approval points dished out throughout conversations such that the party members will reach maximum (or minimum) approval part way through the game to account for party variation (among other factors). As such, even without gifts, it may be possible to exhaust the relationship "too early" within the game.

Leliana: from guarded companion to lover in six simple chantry relics

Lastly, there is a problem for the player in determining "when can I talk to the NPC next?" Without some clear indicator, the player has to periodically "check-in" on their NPCs to see if they have anything new to say. This potentially runs the risk of being every bit as annoying as getting "calibrations" lines in an event-based system.

In closing...
Party NPCs are arguably the most important characters within an RPG, so any time dedicated to making them and their relationship with the player seem more realistic is time well spent in order to increase the player's level of engagement with the game. Having addressed the need and importance for such relationships, and the mechanics to do so, I hope I've given people some food for thought on the subject. I'm contemplating a final post on this matter, covering up a few issues regarding mechanics and general ideas for designing NPC relationships that I've not addressed along the way. If readers are interested in these, let me know and I'll do a final wrap-up.

Level prototyping

Today's post is for modders and budding game designers, and I'm going to tell you to do something that is generally considered common sense for many game development studios. I'll be the first to admit that I don't do it as often as I should, and I know its value. Sometimes even professionals don't do it properly. As the title of the post suggests, that thing is prototyping. I'll specifically be talking about level design prototypes in this post, though the principle can be easily applied to other aspects of a game. Doing level prototypes for level design can save a lot of work, and often doesn't cost you a lot, if anything.

So first, let's discuss exactly what prototyping involves for level design. In essence, you create a level with the functional qualities of the level you are going to be working on. Don't decorate. Don't take time doing complicated lighting. Don't bother applying texturing (except for functional purposes). Get the core shape of your level created as is required by the gameplay it will be supporting. As I discuss previously, levels must support the game. If we're talking about a multiplayer FPS, levels practically are the gameplay. So get a level prototype up and running and make sure that your design is functional from a gameplay perspective.

I don't care if it's ugly, it's functional.

The aim should be to have the level so that you can put in the interactive objects that will provide gameplay. If there's a time limit, make sure the player has enough to get from point a to point b. Is the flow of the level right? Will it be sufficient to support (or create) the desired experience that you are trying to deliver to the player? The prototype is your key to identify major flaws with your planned design. It's your key to determining whether the idea you had for the level is a good one or a bad one.

The great thing is that there are no real downsides to this. If the level works, you've got a base from which to start creating the level properly. If it doesn't, then you've saved yourself hours of effort creating a polished level that doesn't support your gameplay. If you're working in a team, you create a prototype to the rest of the team for them to get working on the associated items, scripts or gameplay elements. They use this basic outline to test whether those elements all work together, and can use them to either provide feedback on how the level needs to change, or identify how other mechanics for the game might need to be modified.

The main thing is to use the prototype as a learning exercise. If something is wrong, do not persevere blindly. Work out what needs fixing and change the prototype or the game mechanics. If you've identified that something isn't quite right, try to fix it now rather than "polishing the level" as it is. Prototypes are created to be thrown away if they don't work. If the level was a bad idea or the game mechanic isn't suited for it. Ditch it for the time being. It might work for something else at a later date, but don't try to fit a square block into a round hole.

Even this contains unnecessary detail for a prototype

As I said, I'm not perfect in doing this for level design. The above level was something I was recently working on to get a basic level up and running to test a scenario. It's too detailed. You can see the effort I went to increasing the tesellation level to create an overhanging cliff. There's various texture work scattered about the level. In an ideal situation, I'd have sculpted the terrain into a rough shape, established the walkable area of the level, and then marked the edge of the walkable a non-walkable area with a wide-band of rock texture. That would be all that is required to get a basic, working level prototype.

This level took about 3 or 4 hours to produce to get to this point. Sure, it's a good start for my level, and at this stage it looks like it will fit the purpose I intended. But I probably could have produced a functional (albeit unattractive) level with the same characteristics for gameplay purposes in under an hour. This means I would have wasted a couple of hours of work if the level hadn't worked.

So prototype your levels. It's a good way to save yourself potential headaches and wasted time. Just don't be afraid to throw those prototypes away if they don't work.

The necessity of variety

In my recent post complaining about Need For Speed: Hot Pursuit, I mentioned that in much of the game, you seem to end up driving at or very close to your maximum speed for a lot of the time. My only assumption is that this was a conscious attempt by the designers to give the player a sense of great speed and excitement, and to have the emotional reaction of thinking how great it is to drive so fast.

Unfortunately, I'd argue this represents a fundamental misunderstanding of the racing genre, not to mention of games in general. Of course, I could also discuss the game's shortcomings further in how it promotes drifting around hairpin corners even in a McLaren F1, but you've already heard my view that the game has a multitude of flaws. The issue at hand for today's post is that without some variance in gameplay, the player won't receive the same heights of emotional reaction to the events with a game.

To demonstrate this point, let's take the example of games with horror elements, games that are meant to scare the player. Games like this should not be filled with enemies if the player is to be truly scared by them. Familiarity does breed contempt. This is why Dead Space failed so miserably at maintaining horror and tension throughout the game, because you got a good look at your enemies on a regular basis and often in very bright light. After a couple of hours, the horror element and the tension that it tried to build were completely lost because you had faced and dispatched so many of the necromorphs. It effectively became another generic zombie shooter. That's not to say it wasn't enjoyable, merely that it failed to deliver continued tension.

Oh look, more space zombies. How... not scary.

If you want to see horror done properly, play The Shalebridge Cradle from Thief: Deadly Shadows, or try Amnesia: The Dark Descent. The Cradle had you scurrying around without sight of any enemy for quite some time. The absence of an actual tangible enemy made the very building itself seem like a threat to you - a threat that was actually realised as part of the level and its story.  Amnesia demonstrates a similar understand of how to generate tension, as it relies heavily on what is not present to generate the feeling of grave danger when the player actually sees a real physical threat.

It's like the difference between a a psychological horror film and a schlock/gore horror film: the latter tends to have more moments that make you jump, but the former is the one that really builds the tension and when it finally gets around to delivering its "instant scare" moments, they have a lot of impact.

We can apply the same logic to speed in racing games. If you want a player to truly get a sense that they are traveling at ridiculously fast speeds, then this needs to be offset by segments where the player is not driving at the upper limits of their vehicle. The player truly feels overwhelmed and exhilarated by phenomenal speeds when they've just experienced having to travel more slowly before hitting some segments of road that allow them to travel at top speed. The principle can also be applied in reverse, but having the player reach top speed on long straights, and then force them into extremely tight and narrow corners while attempting to maintain that speed. Previous city-based outings like Most Wanted and Undercover managed this well to have the player struggling to make it around 90 degree corners at high speed.

When every car is super... none of them will be.

The take home message here is that variety is a great means to make games interesting. If the designer simply has the player doing the same thing over and over again, they are liable to become bored. It's why platform fighters introduce new combat moves and combos, it's why FPS games introduce new weapons and scenarios, it's why RPGs give you new abilities and spells. Increasing the variety of gameplay serves to make the game more fun and also gives it more depth. Does a player use new skills and abilities, or can they adapt their older skills to suit the situation?


The key point is to not make the player do the same thing over and over again. This is why many players found the Deep Roads in Dragon Age: Origins to be tedious, because it consisted of many hours of combat with little significant variation. There were a few set pieces or boss encounters to provide variety, but these were few and far between, forcing the player to hack their way through dozens of encounters until reaching something different.

More fighting. Yay.

Now this might sound like it conflicts with my previous post on Mirror's Edge regarding its gameplay, and to a certain extent, it does. Mirror's Edge would have likely been boring if it had only contained the parkour elements on the rooftops. It needed something to break up those segments, which it did to a degree. Segments requiring more precise timing and convoluted paths were contrasted with the segments where faith was being chased and needed to flee. The designers obviously knew that it needed more than one type of gameplay, it was just unforunate that the combat mechanics it used were lacking in terms of polish.

By giving variety in gameplay that supports the overall theme and experience provided by your game, you not only help providing a more interesting experience for the player, but also work towards accentuating the feeling of excitement for each individual aspect of the game, if that variance comes through simple dialogu. The player who has just unraveled the mystery masking true identity of a killer will feel much more engaged in their defeat, and the player who has spent hours conversing with their ally will feel a keen sense of loss and anger when that ally betrays them. Variety is the spice of life, and of gaming.

Maintaining consistent voice

Once thing I have noticed with some mods is the writing for characters tends to suffer somewhat. Now, some mods have issues with spelling and grammar, but even beyond that a frequent problem is having inconsistent speech style for a character, or worse still, a single style consistent across all characters. This is obviously something that all writers must consider, whether it be for novels, play, film, any form of writing that involves characters and dialogue. That includes video games.

To demonstrate my point, let's take some extreme examples from Dragon Age.  On one hand, let us consider Alistair, a wise-cracking and somewhat insecure warrior, who perhaps struggles with the hand that life has dealt him. This is reflected in his speech, his choice of words, his ability to make a joke even in dark circumstances, and so on. It comes through in his dialogue.  Contrast his character with that of Sten. Sten's dialogue consists of very words, and he typically interprets everything you say literally. He is direct, has little time for humour or wit, and is driven and focused. They both have very distinct and different styles of speaking, with their words, tone of voice, pace of speech, and every aspect of their dialogue.

Player: What were you doing in that cage?  Sten: Standing.

If you had to write dialogue between these two characters, it probably wouldn't be difficult.  But what about if you're writing dialogue for other, less well defined NPCs? Perhaps minor quests givers whose motives you haven't fully defined? (In that case, you need to give them a purpose first!) Even so, it can be difficult to have a fully fleshed out character with a detailed personality, and in the case of minor NPCs, this sometimes isn't necessary.  However, what you must make sure of is that characters have a distinct voice.

Ensure that every character does not sound exactly the same. Each person will have their own favoured words, or manner of speaking. They could be quick to anger, suspicious, treat the player with disdain, be in awe of the player... there are countless options.  The main point is to ensure that you have a clear picture of their style of speech, keeping in mind the words they would use given their upbringing, social status, and their standing in relation to the player.

Don't make lots of NPCs feel like carbon copies

One suggestion I would make to modders to help them maintain a consistent voice for a character is to try and "get inside their head" as it were, and make sure you have a clear picture of the type of thought process and speech patterns.  It may help to try and write NPC dialogue in large chunks for individual NPCs rather than trying to write for many characters in a short period of time.

For exmaple, if you are writing a quest that involves talking to multiple NPCs, it may help to write all of a character's dialogue for that quest without switching to another character. By this, I mean that once you have defined your quest completely, write all the dialogue for each NPC in turn.  If you have defined the various states and interactions that the player can have with each NPC (and if you haven't done this, you should!) you can write all of the NPC's dialogue without switching characters.

While experienced writers can switch between characters without difficulty, modders often run the risk of having all their NPCs sound almost identical if they switch back and forth between them while writing a quest. If you have done your planning, put it to good use by letting it help you write strong and believable individuals within your work.

Who is the audience?

Recently I was posed an interesting question by a player: "When you created Alley of Murders, did you think of yourself first when creating this mod and then decide to let whoever else wished for your excellence to enjoy as well as yourself?" This was a very interesting question, and raised questions which I had answered almost without thinking because of my mindset in creating Alley of Murders. However, I did explicitly deal with this question when I was working on Fate of a City for Neverwinter Nights 2.

I had originally planned for the mod to revolve entirely around dialogue with perhaps some problem solving aspects. The idea was for it to be an entirely roleplay focused module with a vastly branching story. I felt that such types of adventures were sorely lacking when it came to user released content for NWN2, as I found the majority of them to be extremely combat focused.

As I continued to work on my mod, I came to realise that while I found it an enjoyable experience, it deviated too far from the in-built expectations of the NWN2 player community. Many of these players are longstanding fans of the D&D ruleset, and have a great passion for building characters and fighting against monsters in combat to test their mettle and skill in designing a new build. In wanting to create something that did not exist at all, I realised that I was making a niche mod that would lack appeal for many players.

Everything is better with zombies, right?

As a result, I had to rework some of the content I had already created in order to fit with a new vision for the module which would both cater to my desire to make a heavily branching story but maintaining the strong ties with the D&D ruleset and universe. My mod made heavy use of D&D's in-built alignment system in order to deal with the players actions and use key decisions in concert with their alignment to produce vastly different outcomes both during the game and its climax. Admittedly some players still had issues with the system, but I've addressed that previously. Regardless, this change allowed me to not only produce the type of game that I wanted to make, keeping it on track with my vision of creating a choice-dependent player experience/story, but also to appeal to the desire of the player base at large.

Choice: my favourite RPG drug... when it's there.

However, as I said at the start of this post, I did not explicitly consider this problem perhaps as closely as I could have done when creating Alley of Murders. But that is in part because I had answered it by default through my three goals for creating it:
1. Learn how to use the Dragon Age Toolset with a small project.
2. Demonstrate to the Dragon Age community (both modders and players) that creating quality modules with full VO to integrate seamlessly into the game was possible.
3. Create a "Dragon Age" story befitting the style and tone of the main campaign.

As someone who has been making levels for games even before Doom came out I know I have matured significantly as a modder. In my earliest days of modding, I did not even have an audience beyond myself and arguably a few friends with whom I could give my work to via floppy disk, as I had no internet (or even bulletin board) access at the time. Since that time, I have been increasingly mindful of the purpose of my mods, and identifying that mods are for the players.

Players wanted more for their Warden to do. Alley of Murders provides that.

As a modder, I love the creative process of producing a piece of work that players can enjoy. I love writing stories, dialogue, creating levels/visual effects/cinematics, scripting and even playtesting. I love that act of creation, but at the same time I know that I must keep in mind the fact that I am creating something for players, and in many cases, I am playing within a pre-defined world that people love and have analysed (and over-analysed) at great length. Knowing this, I feel it is my responsibility as a modder to conform to that world that has been created and to match it in tone, history and style. This is even more important when creating mods that add to the main campaign of the game.

As a modder I am telling a story that is uniquely mine, but if I am creating a story within a pre-defined world, then I must respect that setting. Before Dragon Age was released, I had many ideas for quests (both sidequests or main plot lines) that I had a desire to create as mods. After I played the game and read all the lore contained with the codex and other official sources, I realised that some of these stories could not be told within the Dragon Age world because they simply did not fit the image of Thedas as created by BioWare. Maybe one day I will get a chance to tell those stories, but as a modder I will did my utmost to ensure that Alley of Murders matched the vision of the official Dragon Age world.  I intend to do exactly the same thing with The Shattered War.

Why Side Quests? (Part 2)

In my last post I discussed the potential drawbacks of sidequests within games. Again, nothing that they are almost exclusively an RPG phenomenon, let's look at the ways that they can be used to enhance a game.

Provide Rewards
People love getting presents, and rewards in games are presents for achieving something. You mastered a gameplay skill? Reward. You completed a difficult task? Reward. The game gives us something for achieving a task, and because of that, we want to achieve more. Now while this is useful technique to keep players engrossed in a game, taken to extremes this can actually destroy the player's enjoyment of the game. How many people find monster-killing grinding in an MMO fun? I'd imagine not many, but it's the reward of new levels and loot that keeps the player going even though the actual activity itself can feel very tedious.

Done right, rewards are a great benefit of sidequests. They make the player feel like they have achieved something, and give them the power to deal with situations with slightly less difficulty than they otherwise might. Having more experience or better weapons to dispatch enemies makes the player feel like their efforts were worthwhile in the long term as well as giving them the immediate benefit of a reward.

The Big Metal Unit - A series long sidequest to "become" a golem

Add Depth
Sidequests are great for fleshing out additional characters or the gameworld in general. For those that care to get involved in the fiction and reality of a gameworld and its people, these are an excellent means to explore aspects that might otherwise be relegated to simply text in a codex entry/journal/book. Providing the player with an interactive experience that allows them to see this content first-hand can be infinitely more powerful than simply reading about it.

In Morrowind, the player could find read about the importance of creatures called Kwama to the economy of the island. Alternatively, they could experience the trials and associated dangers directly by accepting a quest to cure a Kwama Queen of blight. By getting involved in this quest, the player got a far greater sense of the stakes involved and the potential effect of having an infected Queen.

An infected Kwama Queen - she's bad for business

Allow Choice
Presenting a counterpoint to the importance and consequences relating to sidequests, providing the player with choice is actually a great benefit to a game. The core plot of a game has to have a relatively linear plot, because a completely free and branching story would either take far too long to create or likely have a weak narrative. As such, sidequests are where the player should get a lot more leeway in terms of dealing with situations and taking matters into their own hands.

Take the Paranoia quest in Oblivion, where a man named Glarthir is convinced people in the town are spying on him. You can refuse to help him, have him attack you by denying all his accusations, kill the "spies" for him, turn him into the guards, or even watch as he attempts to kill each of the people he believes are spying on him. This wide variety of options for dealing with the situation makes the quest an interesting proposition (above and beyond that provided by Glarthir's insanity).

Explore Creative Gems
As a designer, side quests are the perfect outlet for "creative gems". These are the little ideas that designers have that they want to try out or explore, but they aren't substantial enough to warrant a full plot. A melting pot of mechanics and stories, sidequests can offer a great deal or variety and interest to a player's gaming experience. Anyone who has ever enjoyed playing an RPG will have sidequests that they remember fondly. Whether besting Sir Roderick Ponce von Fontlebottom the Magnificent Bastard in a battle of wits in Jade Empire, or causing havoc in a "Murder Mystery" in Oblivion, there is an enormous amount of fun to be had from sidequests.

Sir Roderick Pon... err, John Cleese.

So now we've had a look at both side of the coin - examining both the good and bad about sidequests. They add a lot to RPGs when they are done well, but can detract from the experience if implemented poorly. Knowing the benefits and potential drawbacks allows designers to maximise the impact of their sidequests to improve both a game's narrative and mechanics.

Why Side Quests? (Part 1)

Side quests are a staple of the RPG genre. Optional quests to get extra experience, items or gold or to learn a little bit more about characters or the game world, they are almost considered an essential part of the RPG experience. But why? They typically don't exist in other genres. You rarely have a sidequest in an FPS that gives you a new weapon or extra ammo. You don't get asked to fetch an optional item in a platformer. RTS games might have optional objectives that are somewhat akin to a sidequest, but this is definitely the exception rather than the norm. So why do RPGs need sidequests?

For the purpose of the discussion today, I'm going to look at all the weaknesses relating to sidequests.  I'll cover the benefits in a subsequent post, but focus entirely on the ways sidequests can impact negatively on a game.

Diluting Narrative
An RPG often lives or dies on its core narrative - the main plot or conflict of the game which the player is trying to resolve. This isn't always the case, but this is generally the major drawcard of the game. The main questline will have a continuous story that affects the main character in signficant ways, its NPCs will be the most complex (and use the big name voice actors) and generally will be the core means of setting the "tone" or "theme" of the game.

Is the theme "Everybody is dead, Dave" ?

If the game's core theme is dealing with an eternal struggle between two opposing forces, how does doing a menial task for a character completely devoid of any relation to that struggle further the development of that theme?  What about if we have a glib character making one-liners while we're dealing with impending doom?  Now, I'm not mandating a need for everything to tie into the game's core plot. That would feel incredibly artificial, and would make it feel as though the entire world was revolving around our character. That is hardly believable in the vast majority of circumstances.

The important point is to not have so many sidequests that your player gets distracted from the main thrust of the game. They should not forget the goal they are ultimately trying to achieve because they get bogged down with completely unrelated quests. For example, in Mass Effect 1, there were quite a lot of different side quests, but many of them tied back into the current threat of the Geth or other elements related to the main story (e.g. Thorian Creepers and Rachni). While these their own separate stories, they were still able to tie in and support the main plot rather than detract from it. This avoided what otherwise could have felt like a chore of doing a lot of quests the seemingly had nothing to do with the main story. Compare to Mass Effect 2 where most of the side quests related to one of three mercenary companies and bore no relevance to the game's core plot. Those sidequests did not add to the core narrative, and in doing so made the game's plot feel less cohesive than that of its predecessor.

The only good Geth is a dead Geth.

Inspire Boredom
We all know the apathy that we feel when we as a player are asked to bring back "a pair of leather gloves", to deliver "5 healing plants" to someone, or "kill 10 rats". This is not the stuff of excitement or adventure. It's the essence of humdrum.

The Oblivion Gates in Oblivion were able to support the main narrative of the game to an extent by constantly reminded the player that Tamriel was under siege because of them, but they failed miserably on this point. After closing a handful of Oblivion gates, you quickly knew the various layouts that were possible, and became sick of going through exactly the same routine to clear each gate. They were not an inherently boring quest like "fetch me a healing potion from the store", but they became boring because they became tediously repetitious. No one likes to do the same thing over and over again, and this is exactly what the Oblivion gates demanded of you.

Oh, another Oblivion gate. Yay.

Add Design Work
From a design perspective, everything takes time and resources. Every side quest requires time for writing, scripting, testing, voice recording, and so on. This translates to a longer (and more expensive) development period and more potential bugs. Every development has things cut, and each side quest means that resources are stretched further. Adding too many sidequests can result in an unpolished game, or one that feels shallow and lacking direction. Even if your aim is to make a sandbox for the player to explore, you don't want to have quantity at the expense of quality.

Removing Importance
Since I'm a big fan of choice in RPGs, I advocate decisions having some meaning. Yet when you deal with sidequests, so often those choices you make feel like they are insignificant and ignored. The consequences from rescuing or saving someone in an individual sidequest is never referenced again, making the player wonder what the effect their choices are actually making.

I rescued Big Town... Big Whoop.

This is particularly the case when characters involved allude to some greater consequence or impact due to the player's actions. If there is some threat directed against the player about future reprisals that never eventuate, what was the point of making that decision that caused it? Admittedly this comes down to the issue of time and resources mentioned above, a multitude of sidequests that have no effect or relevance apart from when they are experience potentially exposes the artificial nature of the game world rather than making it feel alive.

Of course, sidequests can add a lot to a game, and there are many positive aspects that they can contribute. Some of these issues even have counterpoints that actually make a game better. But without being mindful of the pitfalls and potential shortcomings relating to sidequests, designers are in danger of producing content that hampers their game rather than improving it.

What's your purpose?

Today's post is going to deal with writing for games, and making sure that people pay attention to an essential element: purpose. This works on multiple levels, for you are concerned with your purpose for this dialogue as a writer, and the speaker's purpose in terms of their long term and immediate goals. We will examine these in turn, focusing primarily on dialogue, as that is the means by which a significant amount of a game's story is delivered.

A Writer's Purpose
Whenever you're starting to write a particular piece of dialogue, ask yourself "why?"  Why does this particular piece of dialogue need to be written? Is it to progress the story, provide the player with essential background, develop a character, or something else? What you are really asking is "what does this piece of writing add to the game?" If you can't answer that question, then you've either got a problem, or you don't need to do the writing.

Keep in mind that there are many more reasons you could have dialogue that the few I've listed above. What about "adding some humour into a dark scene", "reinforcing the danger of an adversary", "telling the player their next objective", "warning the player about the faction they're about meet"? All of these are valid reasons for dialogue, and there are many more besides.

Morrigan vs Alistair... The witch wins again.

The other reason for working out the purpose of the dialogue is to help you as a writer define what should and shouldn't be included.  If you're trying to impress upon the player how dangerous their current situation is, you shouldn't include a witty one-liner, because that's not the tone or atmosphere that you're trying to instill. Likewise, telling the player about their next objective generally should include some very clear and direct speech or facts that say exactly what must be done, because you're trying to provide the player with some direction about what to do next. Make sure you provide that direction rather than getting mired in vague directions and allusions.

A Character's Purpose
While you as a writer must have a purpose for a piece of dialogue, you must remember that dialogue is delivered by characters, and characters have their own agendas within the reality of the game world. If they don't, then you'll likely need to give them one.  This means you need both a broad "general" aim of the character, and their specific aim within this dialogue.

In a general sense, a character has some over-arching desire that drives them.  They might seek fame, power, revenge, "a hero's death", or "a peaceful home with a loving family". There should be some ultimate goal or general sense of purpose guiding the character and their actions, as for any character of significance, this is what will drive their actions. Loghain from Dragon Age was driven by patriotism, the Transcendent One from Planescape: Torment was driven by a desire for peace. These driving forces caused a great many other actions, but these were key elements of these characters.

We live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded...

However, in every interaction, you should also consider what the character is attempting to do right now. They may have their overall driving force, but in each specific dialogue, what are they trying to achieve? Are they trying to romance the PC or get to know them better? Are they imparting information to the player? Are they desperately begging for help? Are they trying to manipulate or deceive the PC? Note that this will reflect the aim of the dialogue as a whole, but the character's intentions will put an individual spin on the information being delivered.

Let's look at a specific example, where the player is just about to head into a big battle. There are two NPCs that the player can choose to talk to before taking to the battlefield. In both cases, the aim of the dialogue from the writer's point of view is to impress upon the player the danger of the forthcoming battle. This is to raise the stakes of the game and make the player feel invested in achieving victory and maybe even a little anxious or apprehensive about the forthcoming battle.

A few extra soldiers would be very useful right now...

However, the aims of the two NPCs are very different: One of them is trying to assist the player and tell them of the (difficult) strategy required to win the battle, but the other might be a traitor and attempting to instill the player with fear. Think about the differences in the speech of the two characters as they communicate with the player - they could potentially end up delivering almost the same information about the upcoming battle, but the tone of their delivery will be markedly different.

Of course, these things can be applied to writing in general, not just writing for video games.  However, in video games, there is more than one way to give information to the player. When considering your purpose, also keep in mind that might be a batter way to deliver your message to the player than through dialogue.  A journal entry, on-screen tip, visual cues or even gameplay itself might help to better fulfill the purpose you've identified. For example, how do you convey an atmosphere of tension through dialogue? What about player controls, or hints as to the solution of a puzzle?

A video game writer can and should use more than just dialogue

By using purpose to define the means and style of writing by which you communicate with your player, a video game writer can produce more engaging material. When all the text helps support the current atmosphere of the game, each dialogue helps to reinforce the personality of the characters speaking, when all the writing is helping to draw the player into the game and the gameworld that has been created, then you have been successful in the task of being a video game writer.