Nailing Down Terminology

One thing lacking in game design, especially when it comes to interactive storytelling, is a proper set of terms. While I do not think having a precise terminology will directly aid in making games better, it will help us communicate better. As proper communication is crucial for progress, proper terms are indirectly an important part of making better storytelling games. Because of this, I am going to go over some terminology that I find essential, what I mean by them and why I define them in a certain manner.

This is not meant to be a list of terms that I want everybody to adopt. Instead I want it to start a discussion so that we can come a bit closer at agreeing on the terms we use to discuss these matters. I have changed my terms quite a bit over the past few years and I am prepared to do so again.

I need to go over a few things before I start. When choosing a term and its definition I think that, if possible, one should use an existing word and to use a definition that is close to the word's common usage. Making up new words often just adds to the confusion, making it harder to communicate. In some cases it is needed, e.g. I find "affordance" to be a very practical term, but in the case of interactive storytelling we have so much existing terminology to derive from that I do not find it necessary  By choosing a definition that is close to the common usage it also makes it possible for uninitiated people to follow a discussion; it makes misunderstandings much less likely. What constitutes "common" is of course a bit vague (to game developers? people in general?), but it at least set up some guidelines which is better than none at all.

With that out of the way, let's start.


- Story -
Story is arguably the most important word and probably one with the fractured meaning. I see "story" as a container word that encompass a lot of different parts. The most significant are: Theme, Setting, Characters, Plot and Narration. I will get to each of these in a bit, but before that I need to discuss why I chose this definition.

First of all, the reason why someone enjoys a story does not need to be a the exact way that the events unfold. It can be the beautiful environments, the snappy dialog, the dense atmosphere and so forth that makes the story engaging. There is never any specific criteria that makes one say "this story is good", instead there is a wide range of elements that can make a story great.

Second, the definition reflects how stories are created. A story always starts out as some seed idea; a specific person, situation, plot twist, etc, and is then built around that. A setting is determined, characters are created and other elements are fleshed out. These added elements are not the core of the story, they are there in order make the initial idea come to live in the best way possible.

Third, it makes for a very inclusive definition that suit videogames. Games often have a lot story elements, yet often lack some of the more common elements like dialog or plot. If a story is only a carefully planned sequence of events then many games, some vital for understanding interactive storytelling, are left out. At the same time the definition is not so broad as to become meaningless; Tetris is still not a game with much (or any) story, while Limbo contain tons.


- Storytelling -
Given the above way of seeing story, "storytelling" is pretty straightforward to define. It is simply a way to communicate the elements of a story to an audience. They way we are most used to doing this is in the form of a linear sequence of events, but this is not the only way to go about. When doing interactive storytelling, the story is communicated as the player interacts with systems, each representing a part of the story.


Now onto the elements of story:


- Theme -
This is sort of the holistic intent of a story. It can be things like: premise, message, subject, an intended experience; anything that deals with a core idea that permeates through the story. Despite not being a concrete part of a story, like an environment or a character, it is still something that has to be taken into account. Just like a character needs to fit with the environment, all elements of a story need to fit with the theme.


- Setting -
"Where does the story take place" is the question this term answers. It is not just the physical place, but also the time period, history, weather conditions and so on. It describes all the background conditions for the story. This is probably the story element that is most common in a game. Even games that lack all other elements can still have a very strong setting.


- Characters -
Anytime some intentional action is performed, a character is there to perform it. This term simply applies to any sentient agent that takes place in the story. It is trivial to point out characters in a book or movie, but for a game it seems like is a bit harder. For instance, are the enemy ships in Space Invader characters? How about the turtles in Super Mario Bros? In both of these examples, I think one might just as well lump them into the character element. Both of these games both have very thin stories and are not really any attempts at interactive storytelling. As far as I can tell, the vague character cases come solely from these sort of games. They never arise when there is stronger focus on the story. In Uncharted, for example, all the cannon fodder enemies are pretty clear cases of character story elements.

Also important to mention is that this term, like all the others, come with sub terms. Inside the term character are things like dialog, relationships and destinies.


- Plot -
A plot is a sequence of events, each event occurring in a specific fashion. This sequence can be a branching one; the important factor is that all is set and known beforehand. It may seem a bit strange to set this as its own separate element of a story; after all, any book or film is composed out of events laid out in a preset fashion. This notion is also why it is so common to see plot and story as pretty much the same thing. When you deal with books or movies, there is not a big problem with this view, but for games it is disastrous  If a story is something that is laid out in an exact unchangeable manner, then an interactive game is unable, by definition, to tell a story. (A line of thinking which I have seen academic papers written about).

So it seems obvious why one wants plot to be different from story; interactive storytelling other than Choose-Your-Own-Adventure would be an oxymoron. There is however a deeper, and more important, reason for this separation and it lies in how stories are created. When a writer starts a story, most of the events are unknown. Instead it starts with some seed (as discussed above) and is then fleshed out from that point. It is constantly revised and polished. During this process, the exact events, either the planned or already written, are in constant flux. Most of the time other things are much more important than a precise happening. Only a subset of events need to happen in an definite fashion; the rest are just there to realize other elements. Together, all the crucial events make up the plot.

If a person A needs to be at location B at time C, then this is part of the plot. The way in which person A accomplishes this is of less importance, and thus the manner of transportation is not a plot point. Thinking in this way makes it a lot easier to think about interactive stories.


- Narration -
The final story element is the way in which the story is told. At the highest level this deals with things like chronology, how cuts are made, the voice of the teller (e.g. first person) and the subjectivity of the telling (e.g. unreliable narrator). All these concern the basic framework for how the story is put together. It is a basic definition of narration that most agree to.

Narration can be thought of having lower levels as well. In a book or movie, most of the story can come from the protagonist simply making certain actions, but in a game the interaction makes this a lot harder and other tricks are needed. Examples of this is using audio logs or spoken narration (as heard in Bastion). Therefore I find it best if the term narration also includes very specific devices that help communicate the story.

Now that we are done with the constituents of a story, I will discuss a few connected terms:


- Narrative -
My proposed definition for this term will probably be a little harder to get a across, but I think it is a very important one. In common language "narrative" is pretty much a synonym to "story". My definition, however, is the subjective experience of the player; the personal sequence of events and emotions that the player has when playing through the game. It can be said to be a player's account of her experience, but that would not be entirely accurate since what I am after is the raw direct experience of actually playing the game.

What follows are my three main reason for using this term and definition:

First of all is that we need a word for the personal experience; story does not sum it up as it does in other media. However, this definition still applies to other media too. As explained in for the term "plot", every last detail of the final work is not a part in the story, thus it can be said the final version a book or movie is not a story, but a narrative of a story.

Second, it allows us to talk about intended narrative; the experience that we want the player to have. This can be in pretty rough terms, but it is a very helpful way to talk about it.

Third and final, why not just use the word "experience"? Because it is too broad. When we talk about narrative, we mean the story focused experience. For instance, a shoot-em-up game give rise to a very complex experience, but the story material that is communicated is very thin and simplistic. A game that is focused on a providing an engaging narrative is a game where every part of the experience is directly connected to the story.

Important to note is that a good story does not mean a good narrative. The elements in the story can be very compelling, but if they fail to be communicated in an engaging fashion, the narrative ends up a bad one.


- Gameplay -
This term is really hard to pin down as it easily becomes too wide or too narrow. One could simply say that gameplay happens anytime the player interacts with a system in the game, but that does not really hold up how most of us use it. Mostly it is only a subset of possibly interactions that serves as gameplay. For instance , if a bushes waves a bit when the player walks past, few call this gameplay. Having this wide definition also makes it so close to simply "interactions" that it becomes meaningless. On the other hand, one could say gameplay is any interaction that is framed as a goal oriented challenge. This is seems accurate as it agrees with many common forms of  gameplay (puzzle solving, shooting bad guys, matching blocks, etc). However, it becomes problematic in terms of storytelling.

If the aim of a game is to provide the most powerful narrative possible, then that goal often clashes with that of creating challenges.  When creating a game about storytelling, characters should be perceived as proper elements of the story (with emotions, motives, etc) and not just an obstacle or power-up. Because of this, a game with heavy focus on narrative might have to cut down a lot on the challenge. However, it does not seem right to say that means the game must do away with gameplay as well. If a game offers non-challenging interactions with character or other parts of a story it becomes very restrictive, and unhelpful, to instantly claim none of this can be called "gameplay". Thus, there needs some other way to define it.

My conclusion is that gameplay occurs whenever "the mental game space of the player contains a horizon of potential actions that allow for planning". This may sound a bit cryptic, so let me break it down a bit. First of, the "mental game space" is the player's subjective perception of the current state of the game. Important to note is that this does not have to match up with the actual computer state of the game. The player might imagine there is a monster behind the corner when in fact there is none and so forth. The "horizon of potential actions" are actions that the player can see themselves doing in the future. There might be potential actions that are too far away for the player to directly imagine a path to, and these are not part of the horizon. Also, there might be actions that are possible to do, but does not seem meaningful to the player (e.g. jumping off a cliff) or are hidden (e.g. an alternative path to a location). Neither of these are part of the action horizon. Finally, "allow for planning", means that there is some sort of end goal for the player and that the actions on the horizon can help in getting there.

This definition cast a pretty wide net on what gameplay can be, but at the same time also excludes a bunch of interactions. Anything that just happens by chance is not gameplay, neither are actions that lack some sort of goal. A caveat is that this definition can apply to just about any 3D editor, word processor or similar software. But when used in the context of interactive storytelling, there is no real issue.

What is good about this definition is that "gameplay" is not just a binary term. Instead, one can talk about the frequency, action width and narrative relation of the gameplay. All of these shape how the game is played. The higher the frequency of the gameplay, the quicker the action horizon change. A large action width means that the player always have a lot of options on what to do next. Finally, narrative relation means how much the gameplay connects with the underlying story. Important to note is that this term is not a value judgement. Of course, in a storytelling game we want the player to be inside a narrative, but that does not mean that gameplay always have to have narrative relationship.


- Immersion -
Normally this word is used for describing how "real" a game feels, but I think that is the wrong usage. Immersion is simply the state of being very focused on an activity. This can happen for instance when reading a book, watching TV, playing chess and of course playing a videogame. Whenever the rest of the world fades away, and your sole attention lies on a single thing, that is being immersed into something. I think this is the way the term is commonly used, and it is also the most useful for storytelling. Immersion does not rely on crafting something believable; it is simply a measurement on how much attention a game gets from the player.

However, I think it is possible to use "immersed" when talking about believability, but then one has to precise and say, for instance,  "immersed in the game's world". Now it is clear that we are not talking about any kind of focus, but very specifically about feeling strongly connected to the game's virtual world. I think it is important be very clear in this manner as discussions can otherwise become really fuzzy. For example, if I suggest that replaying breaks the immersion, then somebody might counter that they sure as hell were immersed when playing Super Meat Boy. In my statement I meant the specific usage world-immersion, but the response meant the more basic focus-immersion. Further debate becomes pointless as me and my interlocutor are talking about different things.


- Presence -
Closely related to immersion is "the sense of presence". I think this is a great term for talking about the feeling of being inside a game's world, as it basically means being present somewhere. Even though someone has never hear the term before, they can easily guess what it means, and it is harder to make false connections. This makes it a lot better to talk about presence than immersion when discussing the sense of being somewhere else..

So how to define "presence"? If we simply take it as "the feeling of present in a fictional place", then it becomes hard to know exactly what to strive for. What does it really mean to feel more "present"? With immersion, we only talked about the focus; in that case it was just a matter of how much of the player's attention is directed at the game. But "being more/less present" is either awfully close to the definition "immersion" or very fuzzy.

My suggestion for a definition is this:

• How much how of the mental model (ie, what we use to predict and make plans) for the game overlap the with the game's story. If we treat characters like real people then presence is strong; if we treat them like robots then presence is weak.
• How much involuntary reflexes are triggered in accordance to the story aspects of an event. If the player makes a quick jerk when an objects is coming right at their face, then presence is strong. If the player does not shiver a bit when entering a cold environment, presence is low.

The stronger the game achieve the above criteria, the stronger sense of presence it has. By thinking about the relationship between the actual story and what is going on in the player's head, we get a very clear idea of what presence really is. This makes discussions on this subject a lot easier and also makes it easier to set up goals for oneself.



These are all the terms that I wanted to bring up. There are a few more, some of which I will cover in the notes, but I think the above are the mostly commonly used and the most important ones. Keep in mind that these definitions are not meant to be something set in stone. It is the first step in a conversation and I am interested in hearing what everyone thinks of them.

Links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_Meat_Boy
Super Meat Boy is a game where the player dies A LOT. It is a very good example of when a game can be very repetitive, but remain immersive.

http://unbirthgame.com/GDC2013_PresenceSelfAndStoryTelling_Script.pdf
Script for a lecture in which I go over how challenge can be damaging to games with storytelling.

http://frictionalgames.blogspot.se/2010/10/story-what-is-it-really-about.html
An older post that explains more of the reason for the above definition of storytelling.


Notes:

• Related to setting and characters are the words "fiction" and "lore" as well. I do not want to give any clear definitions on these, mainly because I do not use them very often, other than saying they are subsets of "story". They share a lot of the the elements in a story, but I never think one use the word as meaning exactly the same as story. Most often they are used with the meaning of something very similar to "setting".
• Another word that can be worth touching upon is "mechanic". Normally this is just a shorter version of "gameplay mechanic", thus it is any system that helps gives rise to gameplay as defined above. This is not limited to pure code and logic, but it can also be text, graphics and sound.

Thoughts on Slender: The Arrival

Slender: The Arrival is the commercial version of a free game called Slender. The original was based upon a a simple concept: find eight pieces of paper before the Slenderman, a now famous creature that started out as an internet meme, gets you. I wrote a blog post about the game when it was released and as a short experiment I found it quite interesting, but wondered how one would make it into a longer experience. So when I heard a commercial version was in the works I became quite curious, and gave it a go soon after release.

My initial guess was that the game would essentially be like the original, but set in different locations. Each of these would have special collectibles, instead of the original's pages, and some form of modifiers, e.g. mud that makes movement slower. So when I launched the game, I was quite surprised to find out that it started out as an adventure game. Slender:  The Arrival began with my car having broken down somewhere in the forest; I was met by a beautifully rendered forest path, the sun was shining and there was a sense of calm. As I started walking the sky got increasingly darker and by the time I arrived at a desolate house it is almost pitch black.

This was a very simple start, but also an extremely effective one. It set up a notion of how things ought to be and gave something to contrast with later on. Part of the trick was also that I knew there would be a Slenderman, but had no idea what shape it would take. The game had planted an idea in my head and put me in a very suggestive state.

Walking around in the abandoned house, I found notes, news clippings and other things that hinted of normality. But among these were also signs that something was wrong. At first it was just some weird graffiti and the tone of some texts, but as I progressed further things got worse. Having found a flashlight and a key I came across a room filled with weird sketches. Numerous of these depicted a dark, slim figure. My hear-rate was quite rapid now. The slow pace combined with my expectations was making my imagination run wild. Approaching a window, a scream echoed through the night.

I did not want go outside, but felt that I had to. I exited the house and entered the woods. Being unsure where to go I headed in the wrong direction and became lost in the wilderness. At this point a slight distortion appeared on my screen and a vague whisper was heard. Normally, I am not very affected by horror games, but at this moment a chill literally ran down my spine. I was honestly unsure if I could continue playing the game any longer. The build-up was hitting with some force.

Eventually I found my bearings and headed in the direction of the scream. I walked through a gate and a new map loaded. I started the new map facing a canoe and some ranger cabin; the environment did not seem to fit and the house I came from were nowhere to be seen. Instantly I had a real problem with the continuity. It felt like I had been transported somewhere else entirely. Walking around I also quickly figured that I was supposed to collect eight notes scattered around the area. I had no idea why, it made no sense to my subjective narrative. All of this meant that my sense of presence took a drastic drop; a drop from which it never recovered.

The game was still spooky, but a far cry from what it had been. I managed to pick a few pages and it was not long until I got visual distortions and heard creepy sounds. I quickly understood that this was simply a mechanism for telling me when Slenderman is getting closer, and it never became very effective. Soon after I had some sightings of the creature too. It was spooky at first, but could not compare with the terror felt during the prologue. The encounters became increasingly frequent and the effect was lost. Finding the notes turned out to be tricky for me, and I found myself running in circles most of the time.

At this point my sense of presence was obliterated and the game had lost all of it horror. It is all just a mechanical and repetitive trudge.I eventually died and tried again, but never managed to to complete the level. I quickly checked some guides to make sure was not missing out on some upcoming twist, but it seemed the collect items style of gameplay remained throughout. I felt I could not really bother forcing my through the levels and gave up on the game.

Despite being let down (or rather having my predictions confirmed), my time with the game was extremely valuable. The prologue was fantastic and induced horror in way that I have not felt in a long time. While the game failed to make use of its excellent introduction, it gave me a lot to think about, providing more insights into what really makes a great horror experience.

Now follows a summary of the most important takeaways:

 - Normality Makes Immersion Easier
Most of the creepiness comes from the game featuring perfectly normal situations and locations. It is easy to draw parallels between the game's scenery and your own life experience. There is no need to figure out the world and your place in it, all that comes automatically. This makes it possible to become immersed in the atmosphere almost instantly. It also makes the game leave a certain amount of dread behind after you have finished playing.

It is worth noting that having normality can cause problems as it also sets strict assumption of how the world should work. This is mostly problematic when a game has a wide range of interaction possibilities. It often cause players think some actions ought to be possible but are not or that the world behaves in the wrong way. Slender: TA escapes this problem by limiting the interactions available.

- Flow Is Crucial
When I first entered the house in Slender: TA it was engaging to explore it; every room I visited added to the atmosphere. But once I had gone through all rooms I was unsure how to progress. This state lasted for quite a while and I just ran aimlessly around trying to figure out what to do next. It turned out I had just missed a, not very visible, flashlight and were therefore been unable to properly explore the pitch black rooms. For the five or so minutes I was stuck I was pulled out of the fantasy.

This tells me that is is of utmost importance that the player does not get lost like this, especially at the start of the game. When a game is all about atmosphere it must always be clear for the player how to continue. One must make sure the focus is to become part of the virtual world and not to figure out its rules. Slender: TA has this problem later on as well, and is an excellent example of why maintaining the flow is so important.

- Narrative Purpose Matters
When I started out the game, I felt like as part of a narrative. Sure it was not the a very complex one, "car breaks down and it starts to get dark", but it felt consistent and was easy to become immersed in. The most important aspect of this is that the player's thinking becomes centered around story elements. Happenings are not evaluated as output from a rule system, but as occurrences inside a story. This is a strong contributor to the sense of fear; for instance, sounds are not just part of some random event generator but utterances by the world that the player inhabits.

However, Slender: TA is not able to sustain this for long. The narrative reason for moving on became increasingly vague, and I soon found my self doing things simply because the game told me so. This is devastating from a horror standpoint as the world now get treated as system. The fiction is no longer the point of reference, but any event is evaluated in an abstract manner.

- HUD Can Increase Sense of Presence
It is often said that a really immersive game should get rid of any HUD elements. This is simply not true, and in many cases it is actually the opposite. Among many things, the HUD can be used to portray information impossible to display, help keep the player on track and add to the story of the game. In this game the HUD is that of a camcorder; looking at your shadow early in the game shows that the protagonist is in fact holding an actual camera. In a way this is a bit forced (why would one be recording at a time like this?) but I think it is rectified by the positive effect it has on your sense of presence. By having this filter between the world and your vision, you are never seeing anything directly; it becomes easier to accept the rendered, artificial world. By using this kind of HUD the game also emulates the feel from a shaky cam ghost/ufo/bigfoot/etc video, something which is closely tied to the mythology of the Slenderman and increases the effect further.

The camera HUD is also a great vessel for the visual effects that happen when Slenderman is near. Static noise, image tearing and chromatic aberration (where the components of a color are spread out) are all common camcorder artifacts and shaky video tropes. It is a great way to symbolize the presence of an evil being and connects the game with the surrounding fiction. In weird way, this also links the game to real-life: if you see any of these signs when filming, you will interpret them in a very different way.

Despite all the good stuff, I think the HUD is still underused. The most obvious thing to add would be some kind of navigational help. This would be a great way to fix the flow problems that were pointed out earlier. The camera HUD would also have been great for displaying story information; messages and strange images  could pop up in the HUD and give more depth to the narrative.

- Being Cute Just Ain't Worth It
The house at the beginning contains two a posters with logos of the developers. I really dislike things like this. There is no reason for these posters to be in the house apart from being an attempt at a joke - a joke that I think few appreciate. If a game wants to have  a world that the player take seriously, these type of things are horrendously out of place. They destroy the sense of disbelief and makes the player less likely to put any significance to objects found in the environment  In a game like this it is crucial to make sure of ever last detail serves a purpose and help tell something of the game's story. They should never be used to deliver some lame joke or easter egg.


Summed up, Slender: The Arrival is far from a great game and has many flaws. But it also contains some excellent things. Especially noteworthy is the the build-up, which is one of the best I have ever seen in a game, rivaling my memories of the first Silent Hill. The bad elements are also bad in a very enlightening way, which makes the game especially interesting. It is a must play for anyone interested in horror.


Links:
http://www.slenderarrival.com
Official page for Slender: The Arrival

http://frictionalgames.blogspot.se/2012/07/horror-tip-slender.html
My blog post on the original free version of the game.

http://knowyourmeme.com/memes/slender-man
Information on the Slenderman.

Notes:

• It is interesting to note that part of why I found the start so frightening was because I knew some of the game's fictional aspects. This means that the way PR is made for a game can greatly influence the experience of playing it. We noticed this with Amnesia as well; some players started out very tense simply because of what they had heard about the game,
• The counter intuitive idea that a a HUD can actually increase immersion reminds me of Metroid Prime (from 2002 on Gamecube). Here all HUD elements are displayed on your visor which sort of exist in the actual game world. This visor HUD is also used to enhance other effects  such as rain, and does so to great effect.

Thoughts on Bioshock Infinite

Introduction
So I just finished Bioshock Infinite and I feel I need to write something about it. There is a lot that is really good about the game, but the way it all comes together seems like a wasted opportunity. This does not mean it is a bad game, far from it. I played the entire game in a couple of days, a rare thing for me, and had (mostly) fun doing so. What really stuck to me, though, is how it abuses its own premise. The capability for true greatness can be seen throughout, but is constantly hindered . This is also why it is so interesting to talk about it. By taking a closer look at Bioshock Infinite we can perhaps learn to harness its dormant potential.


Narrative
Before we get into it all, I need to clear up a concept. When I talk about the narrative in a game, I see it as the totality of the experience. It is not just cut-scenes and audio-logs that make up a narrative, it is also the shooting, jumping, and all other actions that I perform as a player.

While not that many talk about narrative in this way, I think it is really how most of us interpret our experiences. When we take part in interactive storytelling, what we really care about is our activities and the scenarios. While we of course are able to talk about the narrative in a separate, dual world-like, sense, it is not how we live through the experience. We do not absorb gameplay on a purely abstract basis, we connect it to the game's virtual world and incorporate it into our subjective narrative. The journey we take through the game becomes our narrative.

We want to play the story. I think this is true for anybody who has interest in a videogame storytelling. I see this as the gold standard for any work of interactive fiction, and it is through this lens that I will inspect Bioshock Infinite.


Combat Design
First up, I will go over the combat. I am not fond of combat in games, mostly because it is so overused, but when done well I have nothing against it. The grandfather of Bioshock Infinite, System Shock 2, is a great example of combat done right. Every enemy conveys an aspect of the story, the flow complements the overall mood and the tactics are connected with the progression of the protagonist. When fighting in System Shock 2 an engaging narrative is created; one that ties neatly in with the rest of the story elements.

On the other hand, Bioshock Infinite's combat has probably the worst narrative connection of recent memory. It is basically on the level of Smash TV; arena like battles where you need to kill all hostiles in order to progress. Enemies just run at you and attack, lacking any of the awareness-state nuances seen in previous Shock games. It all boils down to a hectic and often chaotic spectacle. While it can have some charm, it very rarely creates any sort of narrative experience. It is just a matter of clearing waves of enemies in order to move the story forward.

Worse still is that the elements of the battles have little to do with the story. Enemy fiction does not get any better than them being the henchmen of whichever bad guy happens to be your current antagonist. The same is true for your powers. The different magical spells acquired seem to be there simply because they were present in the previous game. They get mentioned on some billboards at the start, but serve no further narrative purpose. Like so many other things in the game they are there just to comply with the predefined combat mechanics.

The game also features looting and vending machines, elements that seem to belong in neither in combat or the story. Yet again these elements are there because they were in the previous game. Possibly also for fear that the player might get bored. To me the overall impression is just one of disconnect. It is a clear example of how much the little touches in earlier games mattered. Combat in System Shock 2 is probably a lot less complex than that in Bioshock Infinite, but because it ties neatly into its fiction, the emergent narrative is so much more engaging.

By having this detached fighting system, a very interesting question is exposed. Does Bioshock Infinite need combat at all? The problem is so obvious that many mainstream outlets have picked it up, something I have never seen before. But before this issue is dealt with, there are other things to discuss.


Basic Elements of Story
I will now go over the different ways in which Bioshock Infinite chooses to tell the story, and point out the many problems that it has with its story's basic constituents.

The first thing to note is how the combat design spread to and corrupt other parts of the game. When in combat mode most of the normal storytelling bits go away, but when leaving a combat arena many of the combat mechanics still remain. The most obvious of these is the looting. In System Shock 2 this made sense, but in later installations it has been simplified and lost much of its narrative connection. The problem peaks in Infinite, where it boils down to mindlessly searching and emptying any vessel in sight. Searching objects would be used to contextualize the backdrop, but it does the opposite here. Much of the scenery is turned into power-up containers. This cheapens exploration, giving it a mechanical and forced feel. All these problems get so much worse when the contents of the loot directly contradict the surrounding environment; for instance, starving children standing next to barrels of fruit. The insistence to place coins everywhere is a similarly damaging feature. Adrian Chmielarz has written a very revealing article of how these elements infest the very beginning of the game.

Vending machines that turn up in strange places and magic potions thrown about are all also hard to mold into any sort of narrative. But perhaps worse of all is how the combat ties into, and corrupts, a major character and theme of the game.

For most of the journey the player is followed by a young woman called Elizabeth. She comments on scenery and keeps the narrative going.The game shows how having a character that stays out of the way, and manages herself, makes her a lot easier to get attached to than one who is in constant need of attention. When not in combat she is a great companion who has her own personality, feels like a fluent part of the game and is of great narrative importance. It is really something to take notes from. But when in a fire fight, which is the bigger part of the game, she is reduced into a power-up dispenser and portable lock-pick. I guess the intention was that this would help the player bond, but because it happens so often it just dispels the illusion. As the game passes, she turns more and more into a gameplay device, and less of a living individual.

Another prominent feature of the games fiction is the existence of parallel worlds. Elizabeth is able to peek into these, opening tears that can let objects travel between dimensions. This is an intriguing concept and something that should be possible to explore in an interactive story. As it turns out, except for a few rare occasions,  the only real interaction with these tears is during combat. They are simply used to conjure up generic objects, all used for their mechanical gain only. Here we have a feature that could have had an almost limitless array of exploration opportunities, and it is used solely as a gimmicky combat tool.

While Bioshock Infinite paints a breathtakingly beautiful world, it is all on a "look, don't touch"-basis. The code governing the game's plentiful NPCs are on par with an old school JRPG. They are all static automatons waiting for the player to show up so they can deliver their one canned response. This is especially jarring in a detailed first person game where objects can examined so closely. I think that even the slightest AI improvement, such as moving out of the way, would help tremendously. The rest of the scenery follows the same formula. Apart from a few, and often rather boring assets, the world is static and void of interaction. It is evident that most code complexity has gone into the combat mechanics, instead of features that give rise to narrative.

Building from its pedigree, the game is of course loaded with audio-logs. The System Shock games handled this quite nicely and tried to fit them into the fiction. It has since been abused in many games, and I have to say Bioshock Infinite is one of the worst examples I have seen. The reasons for recording are dubious and, worse of all, the placement is awful. For instance, you can find personal recordings of the city's ruler lying on the table of  a crowded cafe.

After the game literally smashes a book about Quantum Mechanics in your face, you expect the technology to at least be somewhat justified. This would also make sense as the game has plot aspects that encourage thinking about similar topics. Older games in the series have at least tried to do this; making sure that creatures and contraptions form a coherent whole. But in Infinite, almost nothing is explained. I am not saying there needs to be an in-depth explanation, but it must at least seem plausible in the fiction. When the game is so dismissive with most of its story elements, it is hard to give anything a deeper consideration. This directly counteracts the intended deep themes of the game.

Also worth noting is how simplistically written the characters are. The game paints a backstory and world that could allow for really elaborate discussions. Instead we just end up with villains without much depth. The game simply points out that both sides can be evil, and that is it. It is a shame, as these kind of worlds are often great ways to explore many social issues; China Mieville's books being excellent examples.

What we arrive with is a game that does not seem to take its fiction seriously. It builds up this extraordinary backdrop but never makes any attempt to pull it all together or make any deeper explorations. It seems content with being shallow. It really is a shame.


Narrative Focus
I will now drop the specific details and talk about the narrative experience as whole. Here I think the flaws show up even more clearly. I can forgive that specific elements make little sense, but I find it much worse when a game lacks a clear ambition and focus in the way Bioshock Infinite does.

It seems obvious that the narrative has not been intended as the main source of engagement  During most of the game understanding and enjoying the story is not of importance. There is always an arrow telling you where to go, combat encounters are frequent and there is ever present loot to be found. The game never relies on you being caught up in the narrative, but makes sure that you are constantly exposed to the core gameplay loop. Despite this, the story is a very big part of the game, the world reeking with narrative elements. It seems like the game is not sure what it wants. It tries to do two very different things, and end up doing neither particularly effective.

It feels like an attempt to tell a serious story through a theme park ride. The game tugs you along these fantastic, but mostly lifeless settings; often stopping to engage you in some repetitive activity. It is hoping that the sheer spectacle of the ride and constant feeding of candy will make you forget all of its short comings. Because the game is such a straightforward ride, there is never any proper thematic exploration. There is a lot of things to discuss after a play session, but nothing of the sort happens during actual play. An engaging narrative never emerges, and the good things left are punctured by unrelated activities.

Because of the game's insecure nature I am forced to constantly doublethink. I need to neglect certain elements, forget what I have heard/seen and toggle my view of the world. When in smaller bursts, one can often see past this. For instance, it is possible to feel part of a play even though you know it is just actors on a stage. But when the conflicting elements are so interconnected and frequent it just gets harder and harder to ignore. In the end, the only way for me to go on was not lose myself in the fiction at all. I had to take it all in on a very superficial level. The doublethinking just became too much. It was still possible to enjoy the game, but all along it was evident that a lot was missing.

To me, Bioshock Infinite stands as a clear example of how a lack of focus lessens the emotional impact. Had the game just made sure to set a firm focus on telling a story, it could have been so much more. I am having the same kind of feelings I had after playing Dead Space 2; the feeling of unlocked potential, that the developers just did not dare to take the game were it should have gone. I hope that people playing Bioshock Infinite will see this and take note.

No combat?
Back to the question I asked earlier: is combat needed? This is something that has been uttered by many: that the violence is detracting from the story. This is response is awesome, and I cannot recall the issue being raised in this way before. But at the same time, I have not seen any good examples of what to have instead. This is what I will talk about here.

First of all, note that the combat does not need to be removed. It is possible to have a narrative focused game with a lot of fighting. System Shock 2, or whichever other immersive sim, can be checked to see how it can be done much better. That is not really that interesting though; it seems much more rewarding to see if we could do away with the core combat gameplay all together.

Before going into that, it is worth asking the question if it is worth it. Would the experience improve? If the goal is to have a game that is about relationship, revolution and parallel universes then I would say yes. Some quick reasons:

• Having any sort of cognitive demanding activity has been shown to decrease our capability to feel emotions.  Not having combat can heighten the sense of empathy and connection to the characters.
• Avoiding combat removes the tunnel vision that comes with it. Competitive fighting makes players focus on a very specific activity and make it easy to ignore other aspects of the game. The world's non-combat features come to a stronger focus if combat is dropped.
• As I have argued at length, the common combat design drastically decreases the set of actions we can let the player do in a game. If fighting is removed more actions can be added for the themes we want to explore, actions that will make the player think more deeply.

(Important to note here is that the above reasons all concern a core combat loop. The game could still have the player shooting stuff, but it would have to happen in special sequences like in Walking Dead or Snatcher.)

If we just use the current Bioshock Infinite as foundation, removing the fighting is fairly easy. The most trivial solution would simply involve taking away all of the combat sections. I have not checked this down to all the details, but I am pretty sure that Bioshock Infinite has such separate combat that you could just rip 99.9% of it out and the narrative would remain essentially intact. A slightly more interactive Dear Esther would emerge. Given almost all problems above come from some extension of the combat, I am fairly certain this simple change would make a much better game as well. (I wonder if it would be possible to mod and try and make it happen.)

This is of course not something a major studio would consider doing. The most obvious reason would be that it is hard to market and sell. This might be true, but I think there is another reason that lurk beneath. Many designers are simply dead afraid of the player getting bored. When a game is missing a "fun" core loop it gets extremely hard to test. Some experiences are only possible to be engaging to a fresh mind and cannot be easily evaluated by its creator. It is not possible to get simple objective feedback data. One has to rely on gut intuition and, dare I say it, create art.

But if one embraces the idea of doing away with the "fun" core, Bioshock can be taken beyond being a Dear Esther clone and go much further. The game already contains much of this in rudimentary form, and it just a matter of making these seeds blossom. Here are some quick suggestions:

• Adding more involvement from Elizabeth. Let the player choose what space to be explored and then let Elizabeth act out there. She can be a sort of extended interactive force. Early trailers had Elizabeth playing with masks for instance.
• Why not take more advantage of the tears. Let the exploration of tears be a main pull throughout the game. Since we are visiting worlds that are slightly similar to the one we are in, there are all sort of thought provoking things to add here. Again early trailers already showed some of this. 
• While we are at it, why not use tears instead of the audio logs. It would make a lot more sense.
• Add more direct interaction with the people and explore the themes through that. For instance, the player could find food but not enough to go around, if you give it to a kid his friends might jump on him and fight over it, etc.

I do not want to sit on a high horse here and proclaim how I would have saved Bioshock Infinite or something like that. The above are just simple ideas on top of my head. I am just trying to show the avenues that open up when we let go of that core loop and focus on narrative delivery. The above is not that hard to do; probably a lot easier than it was to do the combat code and assets. It is just that it requires a new kind of thinking. As early trailers show, the idea was already there but something, probably the urge to make combat work, led away from it.

In Closing
In one way it felt weird and annoying to play Bioshock Infinite. There was a constant bombardment of things that I found obviously wrong. Despite this the game was given perfect scores all over, the many imperfections swept under the rug. But then I saw the articles that followed, discussing aspects of a game I have never seen in the mainstream before. This makes me hopeful that we are onto something here. I am unsure if any larger studios will change, but I think the game has opened eyes of many. This might also be where all those high grades are coming from; the sight of this enormous potential; the thought of what videogames could be. That is at least my sincere hope.

GDC 2013 Talk

The Script

I just finished cleaning up the script for the GDC2013 talk and it can be gotten from here:
http://unbirthgame.com/GDC2013_PresenceSelfAndStoryTelling_Script.pdf

Additional Resources

The following blog posts are probably also of interest:

Story: What is it really about?

This goes into more depth on how to view a story. I think this is really important in order to come to terms with interactive storytelling.

The problem of Repetition

Repetition is a problem when presence is a goal. Here is a list of pitfalls and how to solve them.

Finding videogame's true voice

This articles explores the "agreeable action outcome" design some more.

Highlevel story telling design

Goals and Storytelling

Both of these explore the construction of a story space.

Puzzles, what are they good for?

Puzzles and causal histories

These articles use the "interaction for presence"-axiom to view puzzles in a new way.

These should hopefully help clear out a few things from the talk.

I also have a more academic, and much more detailed, version of the talk. It can be found here:

http://unbirthgame.com/TheSelfPresenceStorytelling.pdf

This versions does not discuss story-spaces, but provides a lot more rules for how to create interactions that support presence. It has also sources for most of the claims a I make and some more advanced discussions.

Addendum

Finally, I wanted to give the question, "Why does Minecraft and Dark Souls, despite being gamey, have such a strong sense of presence?", a better answer. So here that comes:

The reason why this can be true is because the fiction of these games correlate 1:1 with their mechanics. Let's take Dark Souls as the example. Just about any action that you make is directly, or very closely, related to the combat. It is a game about killing monsters and it takes place in world where you are tasked to do just that. The game does not suggest that the monsters have feelings, daily routines, or something like that. Their only purposes in life is to kill you and others like you. There is nothing in the game's internal systems that can take away from this fiction, it can even handle AI acting up and similar. It is a robust fiction. The same line of thinking can be used for Minecraft.

I think that the above is what has led many people astray. Right now the games that can provide a strong narrative that emerge directly from play, are games that very gamey and containing tight core gameplay loops. It is easy to think that think of this as the way forward, that to evolve storytelling we must simply find other core loops; a belief that often leads to seeing tech as our ultimate savior.

My talk (and paper) on presence and storytelling is a description of why this is not a way forward. Core loops only work so far. We must start thinking in different directions in order to take our stories into new territories.

Puzzles and Causal Histories

In the last post I brought up a few reasons why puzzles should not be dismissed. In this I will bring up another one: making the player feel as an active force. I refer to this concept as having a causal history. My hope is that it provides a new way to view and evaluate puzzles.

First I must go over the term "causal history". Basically, it means the sum of actions that players feel they have caused; any previous actions remembered as "I did...". Having finished watching a scripted sequence, the causal history will just be "I triggered a scripted cutscene". But if participating in a gun fight, the memories may be something like, "I first shot that guy,  dodged a flying knife, threw a grenade ..". Causal history is a tightly related to agency. A rich causal history increase the feeling of agency. It creates a personal experience for players; an experience where they feel much more present.

Consider these three different gameplay segments, as retold by a player.

1) As I walked up to the door a cutscene started. I watched the protagonist search for a key. Rummaging a few nearby drawers and boxes, she managed to locate it. She unlocked the door and entered the next room.

2) As I walked up to the door, I found a guiding cursor pointing at a box. Searching the box I located a key. The cursor now indicated the door as my next objective. I interacted with it, unlocked it with the newly found key and entered the next room.

3) I walked up to the door and found it locked. I had recently overheard that the orderlies hid spare keys and proceeded to search nearby boxes and drawers. Turning an dusty crate upside down a key was revealed. I picked it up and unlocked the door. I was now able to enter the next room.

All of the three have the same thing happening, but involve the player in the different ways. The dividing factor is the amount of agency provided. The player has, to various degrees, been shown or participated in a happening,

In the first example, the game takes care of the whole situation, and the player does nothing. In the second and third examples, the player does the exact same things; the third, however, provide a much stronger sense of causality. In one retelling the player is explicitly told what to do, in the other the player is implicitly hinted what do. The third one manages the latter by being designed as a puzzle, resulting in a rich causal history.

I think most will agree example three is the kind of experience one wants to strive for. This sort of gameplay set players smack in the middle of the happenings. They are present and responsible; causal agents in the narrative.

By paying attention to this concept an aesthetic for designing puzzles emerge. One wants to have puzzles that  provides the strongest and most detailed causal histories. It fits neatly with the idea brought up in the previous post; that puzzles should give the player a feeling of coming up with solutions on their own.  By focusing on causal histories puzzles become a means to implicitly guide the player through a set of actions. It entails setting the player in a certain frame of mind, to give hints and provide relevant exposition.

While trying to think up complex chains of actions for the player, one cannot get too carried away though. The rules set out in the previous post must still be adhered to. If not, there is a big risk players get stuck, counteracting the intended experience. It is a balance act, and one of  taking risks,when it comes to determining the complexity of puzzle. It should provide strong causal histories, but at the same time it can not break the flow of the narrative.

Another aspect is that simply adding more actions is not good in itself. The actions that make up the causal history must fit the narrative being told. For instance, if a puzzle-lock is added to the box containing the key, it adds nothing to the experience. It just halts the flow and gets in the way. Padding will not improve the experience, but only detract the player from what is intended. Actions should be meaningful or not be included at all.

Having puzzles is not the only way of creating causal histories. Earlier I gave a gun fight as an example of a detailed sequence of actions. This is a form of gameplay that arise directly from the underlying mechanics. If possible, it is an excellent way to create agency.Many situations are however impossible to create in this manner or just too expensive.  Classical gameplay also come with a lot of problem that often break the sense of immersion (outlined here), making it at times undesirable. It all depends on the situation. For any given segment, it is crucial to make sure that a puzzle is the best approach.

Let's summarize. Following this aesthetic one designs a puzzle in a way that gives players rich causal histories. The retelling of a puzzle should be dense with the player performing actions, not passive spectating. One must also make sure that the puzzle does not block the flow, and the actions involved must support the intended experience, not hinder it.

Even though I have not used this approach much for actual work, it has already made me see a few puzzles in a new light. I think there is a lot of potential in this concept and look forward using it more. It might of course turn out to be the wrong way of thinking, but so far so good.

Goals and Storytelling

Let's talk about goals in storytelling games. Not really the far-reaching "save the princess" or "kill the evil dude" kind of goals, but the local and moment-to-moment goals that face a player throughout the experience. I have sort of touched upon this in the scene-approach to high level story telling story design post, but want to discuss it a bit further. I think this is another major reason why there still a need for either violence or puzzles to drive the story forward. The reason being that the player does not know what they should be doing otherwise.

In a non-interactive story the characters can behave in certain way because it works for the narrative. They think about the things that are relevant to the story being told, and perform actions that have interesting outcomes. In an interactive work, it just does not work like this. In order to control outcomes, the player would basically  have to know the future of any action, something that is neither possible or desirable. Thus, the game will have to guide the player into making the actions that the story requires in order to give an engaging output. This is where violence and puzzles come into play.

Games based around violence teach player the following: You need to kill anything in sight and when you run out of things to slaughter you need to progress until you find more stuff to fight. Once the player accepts this the problem with having is non-issue and the role of a designer is to weave a story into this mode of progression.

Puzzles have a different set up. Here the whole idea is to constantly bring up riddles for the player to solve, and then create a story out of that. What gives the player goals and directions are the requirements of the currently encountered and unsolved puzzles.

A more abstract and direct version of this is simply to have a certain goal artifact and then evolve the entire game about retrieving this. Portal, Braid, World of Goo, etc are all examples of this approach.

Puzzles and combat are the most popular ways of settings up goals, but others exist as well.

Most platform games, like Super Mario, just have the player walking in a single direction. While these games tend not have much story content, there are more experimental games that do. Passage, One Chance and Everyday the Same Dream use this approach quite directly and are sort of very simplified platformers. I think Dear Esther and Journey can also be said to use this kind of approach, as the player does not really have any other goals than moving in a certain direction.

Another approach is to not give the player any explicit goals at all, but let them just interact until something interesting happens. There are not really any longer games that uses this method to implement player progression. The Path and some of Vector Park's games do it to a certain extent, but then only for a single specific scene. Adventure games use in limited sequences, like when being thrown into a new location and forced to explore, but never for any longer stretches. The problem with this approach is that the player cannot really make any plans, which brings down the sense of agency and engagement quite a bit. This makes this only work for short bursts, often when a sense of disorientation is appropriate.

Finally, I have to mention the on-rails method, which is essentially what Walking Dead and Heavy Rain do. It is sort of similar to the "walk this way" approach of platformers, but just removes the required interaction for forward movement. These games drags you along whether you want it to or not, only letting you interact in very small and specific situations. An interesting aspect is that the "interact until something happens"-approach can work quite nicely here, partly because there are often relatively massive amounts of exposition before each interactive moment.  This combined with a closed of scene makes it possible to set up a goal using purely plot means.

This pretty much sums up how any storytelling games goes about creating low-level goals.

When starting out the new Super Secret Project I was very much into "interact until something happens"-approach, but it did not really work. The lack of gaminess did not make the player more into the story, but created frustration  and made them spend most mental energy pondering "what the hell am I supposed to do?". Our current approach is instead to use a combination of puzzles and the "walk this way"-approach.

Puzzles tend to always give certain feel to the environments; machines to boot up, broken bridges to cross and that sort of thing. This limits the range of goals quite a bit and is often quite evident in games. For instance, in Amnesia: The Dark Descent there is always the need to open some form of door. The challenge here is to be creative of course, but it is a very hard problem. To make puzzles out of various situations is one of the biggest challenges we face.

I think it is also very important to recognize that a big part of puzzles is to provide goals. Starting with Amnesia, we stopped seeing puzzles as challenges and instead view them like interesting activities. Focus is put on making them engaging and fitting to the narrative, instead of (as was the case the before) making them challenging. One cannot remove the challenge entirely though, because then a certain immersive quality of the puzzle is lost. There needs to still be a certain amount of "revelation" taking place in order to feel as if you are really making a connection with the game's world.

The "walk this way"-approach is very interesting as it gives much more freedom in the kind of environments that can be used. Now you can place the game in just a about any situation without any need to figure out ways to use it gameplay wise. The main issue is that you need to make your environments very linear. For the approach to work the goal must always be very clear, else it turns into a puzzle. In order to keep players engaged, it is also important that there is reason for continue going in a certain direction. This can either be the promise of some reward when getting there, or a steady flow of interesting things happening along the way.

I am unsure how long a game can be and what kind of stories can be sustained by only using the "walk this way"-approach. All the current ones (that I know of) are quite short. Interestingly, the more complex and direct the story (like One Chance and  ImmorTall) the shorter, and the more abstract and vague (Dear Esther and Journey) the longer. This might just be by accident, but might also be  a sign of some kind of limit to the approach. Worth nothing is that compared to other approaching, there is little inherent engagement in this one.  Simply moving forward simply stop being interesting after a while and something else is needed.

I think the question of various ways to set up goals is a  really important issue but I do not see it addressed very often, or really at all. For some reason any design articles I come across are based on a type of design and then just take that as dogma. Perhaps I am just missing all the nice papers/articles out there?

Also interested in hearing if I missed out on any ways to create the low-level goals in a storytelling game!

High-Level Storytelling Design

Introduction
I recently started to play the demo for the upcoming adventure game Primordia. I really like the art-style, the setting, themes and the characters (perhaps with the exception of a somewhat annoying companion). Despite this I am finding myself not being that engaged when playing it. The main reason for this is that the game is in a very traditional point-and-click form, which means that it is mainly all about solving puzzles. Despite some good design and an in-game hint system, its gameplay back-bone is holding it back.
Note: This does not mean that Primordia is bad game though, more on this in the end notes.

At the same time we have currently been in the middle of going over some design thinking in our upcoming Super Secret Project. We have been trying to evolve the type of high level design we have used for our previous games and in that process encountered a few problems and come to a few intriguing insights.

The problems I had with Primordia and the issues we have had with our own project are closely related and deal with the high level design used for games focusing on story-telling. This sort of design is what this post will be about. I will start by going over the basic problems, then cover more recent advancements and finally outline our own approach.


The Immersion Conjecture
Since the middle of the 90s or so, the image of adventure games as the kings of videogame storytelling has slowly dwindled. Instead they have given way to more action oriented titles and nowadays most of the major storytelling efforts lie in the action-adventure genre. What has happened is that the puzzle-centric design has been replaced by one where some sort of core mechanic makes up the bulk of the experience.

I think neither of these approaches is a good way to properly do storytelling in a game. The problem with both are that they have a strong focus on the competitive aspect of games. In both of these designs the main goal is not about being immersed but about beating challenges. I have discussed this to great lengths in the paper The Self, Presence and Storytelling. The points important for this discussion are the following:

• Challenge-oriented games have a core design which I call "black box design". This means that the main goal for the player is to intuitively figure out the game's underlying systems and to beat them.
• When the focus is on a system of a game, it detracts attention from, or even directly contradicts, its fiction. As a result it diminishes the story aspects of the game.
• The main focus of  games with storytelling should instead be on creating immersion or, more precisely put, a sense of presence. This is done by having a strong continuous input-out loop between the player and game.

Before going into high level approaches that focus on immersion, the normal adventure design need to be discussed. 

The Puzzle Approach
This approach is pretty much how all of the classic adventure games are built. In essence, they are made up from a set of interconnected tasks that need to be completed. In order to get to A you need to B and C, C requires that D and E are done and so forth. The entire game basically becomes a big puzzle for the player to solve.

This approach has its root in the very first adventure games ever made: Adventure. The game started out as a mapping of a cave system that the author, William Crowther, had been part of exploring. When making an interactive version of it, various puzzle elements, partly inspired by D & D, were added. Apparently the author did not find the virtual exploration of the caves engaging enough on its own. Something more was needed, and the puzzle elements was added to fill that void; a decision that would go on to influence the coming decades of adventure games. (I wonder how different history would be if Crowther had added some Dear Esther-like narrative instead!).

The reason why this approach is so successful is because it makes it very easy to weave an interactive environment together with a story. The puzzles always give the player various tasks to do which provides motivation to go forward. More importantly it serves as a mean for the player to become part of the game's world. It makes it meaningful to converse with characters and it forces players to understand how the virtual world works.

This comes as a cost though. Because the focus is on constantly providing riddles and quests for the player, the game must have a story that support this. There must be a reason for the player to question characters, ways to provide clear goals, plenty opportunity to set up obstacles and an environment that support clever puzzles. The result of this can be seen very clearly; most adventure game are either some variation on mystery/detective story or a classic, fairytale-like, grand quest one.

On top of this comes the problem discussed in the paper, namely that the constant scrutinizing of the game's world eats away on the player's make-belief. It is simply not possible for players to let story-engagement be their main focus. If they fail to stay in a puzzle solving mindset the game will refuse them to advance. This often leads to the somewhat weird situation where playing the game with a guide is more enjoyable than playing it the proper unguided way.

These problem have been known for quite a while, and in recent times some games have popped up that try to do things differently. I will now discuss the most widely used, and most successful, alternative.

The Linear Plot Approach
The basic premise for this approach is to craft the game like a normal non-interactive story. One then looks for parts were it is possible to insert some sort of player interaction and add these to the otherwise passive experience. (This is not how would go about creation such a game exactly, but it describes the type design quite nicely.) The first game I know that did this was Photopia, and it used it very successfully. It is widely regarded as a highly rewarding and emotional experience. The approach has been more popularized by Fahrenheit, which unfortunately got a much more negative response. More recently the approach gained a lot of success in Telltale's adaption of The Walking Dead and here this approach have really showed its advantage to a bigger audience. I think it is by far the best usage of a linear plot design done so far. To The Moon is another, and different, example that also uses this approach to great effect.

What makes this approach so effective is that it is much better at keeping up the narrative momentum. When using the puzzle approach, it is highly likely that players will get stuck and taken out of the experience. With the linear plot approach this happen very rarely since the game is so focused. Right before it is time to give the player control, the protagonist can pretty much explicitly state what is needed to be done without it feeling out of place.

What I find striking about this approach is the very strong scenes that the games let you take part in. Heavy has the basement capture and self-mutilation scene. Walking Dead has the staircase stand off and mercy killing scenes. By having a very strict and controlled path throughout the game, it is possible put the player inside very specific scenes that would have been hard to set up in other kind of games.

Another big advantage is that it allows for a lot more diverse stories, as there is much less pressure on building everything into a puzzle structure. The approach has focus on the presence building qualities of the game medium instead of the competitive (black-box) aspects. Games like Photopia and Walking Dead clearly show how effective this is and there is probably a lot more that can be explored here.

Of course all is not well with designing a game in this way. There are some areas that are really problematic. The main issue is that there is not really much interaction, especially when it comes to building a sense of presence. The basic premise of the approach is just this, so it is really an intrinsic fault and not that interesting to discuss. However, more subtle, and intriguing, problems arise when it comes to picking the actual parts where the interaction happen. Two main issues arise here.

One is that it is very hard to have some sort of consistency in interaction, partly because activities can be so diverse and partly because they happen so rarely. Heavy Rain went the route of QTE's and the result is not that good. While there are some really good scenes, as a whole there are just too many arbitrary button presses. Walking Dead does it a lot better with having a few types of more intuitive input, such as aiming a cross-hair and mashing a single button. But the infrequent usage and not always clear functioning makes this problematic still. Dialog usually work better, but that interaction lacks a tight feedback loop instead. (However, an interesting way in which both games try and make this more immersive if by having a time-limit and banging on about how every choice has consequences).

The other issue is that much of the sense of exploration evaporates. Whenever players are given a space to explore it is very confined and static. The cause of this is that the game always need to make sure that you can go back into "cut scene mode" after an interactive section is over. There is a bottleneck that needs to be reached with very specific requirements met. This means one has to be very careful about moving characters, changing the environment, and so on, in order for the next cut scene to feel coherent. There is also the problem of keeping the quality of characters when starting a less controlled section that lack the tightly polished look of a cut scene. This means only so much can be done with characters during these more open sequences. Finally, because you need to have some overall unity in the control scheme, any open sections can only have the simplest of input. Usually only movement is allowed and the rest handled by some sort of menu like system (basically like a point-and-click game). In the end interaction during these part come off as clunky and contrived.

There is also a big problem when it comes to production. Simpler games like Photopia and To The Moon do not suffer so much from this, but in a game like Heavy Rain it is very evident. Because much of the game is not actively played but passively watched , the need for high quality cut scenes is a must. It needs to be made sure that the player can be engaged when the presence-feedback loop is weak or completely missing. This means tons of assets, which in turn requires the game to be planned far ahead. For instance, Heavy Rain had the complete script written before the production started. And then all motion capture and voice recording needed to be done before gameplay could be tried out. When it comes to making the actual game there is little room for change and iteration, and one basically has to stick with the script. This is a big disadvantage for interactive media as much of the real good stuff can come from unexpected directions.

While linear plot design gives a better sense of flow in the narrative and a more coherently immersive experience, it still feels lacking. The main problem is that there is so much interactive down-time and great loss in the feeling of exploration. There needs to be some other way of doing things. For our upcoming Super Secret Project we wanted to try a different route and craft an experience where you play the whole time.

The Scene Approach
The design that we have come up with is something I will refer to as the "Scene Approach". The basic idea is that you give the player an area, a scene, where they are free to roam. When appropriate players are able to leave and enter the next scene. Each scene should have a strong focus on some form of activity and/or theme  and be self contained. Moving on to the next scene should be evident, either by a very simple interaction (e.g. opening a door), some form of activity (e.g. starting a generator) or by reaching some sort of state (e.g. waiting for a 2 minutes). The same underlying base mechanics should be used throughout the game and interactions should behave in a consistent manner. The wanted end result is to have an experience where the narrative flows throughout the game, but retains a tight interaction loop and a strong sense of agency. It is basically about taking the better interactive moments from the linear plot approach and stretching them out into scenes with globally coherent interaction.

Is this really possible? The moments in the linear plot approach have been carefully set up and are normally extremely focused and contained. Is it really possible to recreate this in a more open environment and without any cut scenes? The scene approach cannot possibility recreate every situation found in a linear plot game, but if done correctly it should be possible to come pretty close.

The first requirement is that the levels need to be designed in such a way that players are rewarded and driven towards behaving in certain ways. For instance, in early designs we tried to give tons of freedom in what players could do, but much of this freedom resulted in actions that went against the narrative. This is negative freedom. Instead we have tried to limit actions into "what makes sense for the protagonist to do" and do so without breaking any sort of consistency. This is positive freedom. The goal is then to eliminate the negative freedom and maximize the positive one, which is very simple to say but have proven hard to do in practice.

Even with a neatly designed scene, all is not set. There is still the problem of communicating the goals. Early on I thought that it was just a matter of having an interesting enough environment and players would partake in the activities provided. The problem is that the larger the environments become the harder it is for players to figure out what is of interest and what is not. It is also very easy to loose ones sense of direction and become unsure of what to do next. This problem is even more severe now that we pulled back on the problem solving focus. Players are not in the mood for constantly looking for clues but are instead focused on soaking up the narrative and having an immersive experience. This is how we want them to be, and should thus not be something that hinders progress.

To get around this, we have had to made sure that the larger a scene is, the more clear and obvious your end goal becomes. Also, any activity in a large area should always be optional unless it is closely related, both spatially and conceptually, to the object or state that makes the game progress to the next scene. Whenever the player is required to carry out some activity, the scope of a scene need to be decreased. The greater the freedom is in terms of possible actions, the less actions must be compulsory.

The scenes themselves are not the only problem though. A perhaps even greater concern is how to connect them. At first I thought this would not be a big issue and that you could get away with pretty loose connections. Problems arise very quickly though, the main being that the experience simply stops making sense for the player. There must be some sort of logical connection and narrative flow between each scene. If not it becomes increasingly harder for player to figure out what they should be doing. This means either lowering the degrees of positive freedom or to have more set up for each scene. The first option gives something like Thirty Flights of Loving and the second is basically to use the linear plot approach. We do not want to do either, so having clear connections is a must.

This results in an a sort of curious conclusion. One of our goals in storytelling is to rely as little as possible on plot in order to give an experience with a strong sense of agency. However, in order to provide as much positive freedom as possible, it is essential that the scenes are put together in a very tight and engaging fashion. In other words, on a scene level there is a great need for a strong plot in order to have as little plot as possible in the actual scenes.

In turn this limits what kind of scenes that are possible. Now that the connections need to make sense, it is not possible to simply fill the game with scenes that lends themselves very well to our core mechanics. So far we have to been able to pull this off quite nicely, and we are slowly wrapping our minds around these concepts.


End Notes
This is not some final verdict on how to improve upon the adventure game genre. It just summarizes a bit on the design direction that we are taking for our next game. Nothing is final yet, so I am not sure how it all will turn out in the end, or how much of the above we will be actually using. This is at least our current thinking and what we are working on now.

Also have say few ending words on adventure games in general. It might sound in the beginning like I loathe traditional click and point games, but this is not the case. I have enjoyed playing a lot of adventure games, and using puzzle approach for high-level game design is a very valid one. The best adventure games really take advantage of this, for instance Monkey Island and Broken Sword. These games are made in a way that makes the design really works and creates a really memorable and unique experience. However, for some games, like Primordia, my main draw is not to have this kind of experience. In this game I am more interested in exploration and getting immersed in the world. The classic puzzle design does not do this properly and I feel as if my experience is not as good as it can be. Primordia is still a good game and it uses the setting nicely to create some interesting puzzles. But it feels like they could have taken a lot of the game's essence and packaged into a form that would have delivered it much better.