Sequential Degenerate

The Blog has moved.

2009-07-11T16:06:00.000+10:00

In case anyone stumbles across this site by accident, the blog has been moved to http://sequentialdegenerate.wordpress.com - please stumble over there to find the spiritual successor to this site.

But he wears a cool hat, right?

2008-04-14T15:43:00.003+10:00

Huh. I just... don't know what to say.

I would say "Typical Trekkies, unable to distinguish between fantasy and reality, if you have a problem with a character, blame the writer, not the role the actor's paid to play..." But it's not Trek.

It's Firefly.

Huh.

Mmmm, flesh.

2008-04-13T20:55:00.002+10:00

Someone needs to create this, just to watch the magnificent failure that it would be.

Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen.

2008-04-13T12:56:00.003+10:00

Being an RSS junkie, I was able to keep fairly up-to-date with Rock, Paper, Shotgun's recent psuedo-review of the Russian game 'Pathologic'. By all accounts, it's an incredible game, albeit with one very important caveat - it's not a game that's fun to play.

Now I know this seems to fly in the face of all we've come to expect from a game, and completely destroys the already vapid video-game rating system that many sites and magazines employ, but it needs to be taken into consideration. Year after year, we expect our games to be enjoyable - for us to want to keep playing them because they create feelings of relative happiness and satisfaction within us. And along comes a game like Pathologic - and game that, by all accounts, is a cruel and miserable game to play. But the difference is - and what the traditional game review falls apart on - is that even though a game makes you angry, disgusted, tired, paranoid, and all the other 'downer' emotions you can think of, it's still worth playing.

I know a lot of you will be up in arms, ranting and raving at me through your monitors. "What's the point?," you yell, "of a game that isn't fun to play?!"

It's a good point.

And it's a point that will see games forever consigned to nothing more than 'crude stimulations and ego-fantasy' by intellectuals and the media worldwide. I'm not trying to stir up the whole 'are games art' discussion, because that's a rant for another time. But what I'm trying to say is, as a medium, why do games have to be fun? Why do they have to make the player feel good about themselves or their actions? Nearly all other mediums of entertainment certainly don't aspire to be enjoyable. Some of them go out of their way to be as shocking and depressing as possible. And, for the most part, those are the works that people remember.

Take, for example, the medium of film. Are all your favourite movies happy and make you feel good? Mine certainly aren't. One of my favourite movies of all time - Paradise Now - is a movie that's so far from enjoyable it is, at times, physically and mentally painful to watch. And yet it's magnificent. It's extraordinary. It's depressing and violent and shocking and a torturous experience - and yet, for possibly all time, will consistently rank as one of the best films I've ever seen in my life. But why do I like it so much if it's not enjoyable? Why does making me feel so bad make it so good? I could go and watch Bambi or Mary Poppins instead - nice, safe, and enjoyable. They make you feel warm and fuzzy inside and don't challenge you intellectually or mentally. So why should all games be like that?

Why can't a game disgust you? Why can't a game depress you? Why must the game reward you with a sense of self-worth, a place of importance, a sense of satisfaction upon the completion of your tasks? Why do we, as developers, players, and dabblers, place such importance on making the player feel good?

I know the arguments against it all. Most games need to be sold, and you sell a game by making people want to play it. It's that simple. If you make a game that people don't want to play, then they aren't going to buy it, and that isn't going to make you money. Or, at least, enough money. And players today have gotten so attuned to that sense of accomplishment and joy that most games employ that they simply can't process a game that doesn't revolve around such conclusions. Even genres that seem pre-disposed towards the 'abuse' of players, such as Survival Horror, still illicit feelings of contentment and achievement in players. Players can still win, save the day, ride off into the sunset with Jill. Where's the survival horror in a game that you can win?

I'm not suggesting that all games shouldn't be fun. There is a time and a place for everything - there is a reason why every film isn't a Schindler's List - games are, by their nature, an escapist fantasy. But it's something that we have to take into consideration if games, as a medium, are to move beyond their status as simple, mindless distractions.

Guaranteed: No Rick-Rolls.*

2008-04-03T14:22:00.003+11:00

*guarantee not guaranteed.

Just a link-dump for this entry. Like all the most productive people, I spend most of my time browsing instead of doing actual work, so over the course of a few days I tend to build up quite an.. interesting History backlog in Firefox. Browse away.

Project Rooftop: I remember coming across this gem of an art-blog not long after it first started up, but I lost touch with it over the next few years, only to re-discover it all over again. It's effectively a superhero fashion parade, but it's entertaining as all hell. You don't realise just what defines a character until you see someone else's take on it, and for all their differences and changes, they're still the same superhero you know and love. Plus, big love for Big Barda. That's always a plus in my book. I loved the character and always thought that she and her husband needed more time in the spotlight. Even though she's dead now. Bah, that never lasts.

Girl-Wonder.Org: See, I'm a fan of comics. And I tend to consider myself a reasonably level-headed and normal indiviual. And it's painfully obvious to me that the vast majority of women characters in comics seem to be either bimbos, ice-queens, or motivations for vengeance, plot advancement and dark, moody feelings. Girl-Wonder seeks to change that all by suggesting the rather bold idea that women be treated as caped equals. Weird, huh? They're doing a fabulous job giving a voice to the oestrogen-ed minority in comics, and more than that, they're all smart, intelligent, and level-headed people as well. I know, where do I find them, huh?

Archetype: The Fiction Writer's Guide to Psychology: A wonderful resource for those of us who don't consider their characters complete unless they have a crushing array of psychological problems (a characteristic most of them get from their writers, it seems). Aside from clearing up a lot of misconceptions concering psychiatry and common psychological disorders, it also contains plenty of interesting psych-based writings and general writing articles, all typed up in a manner that doesn't make your brain turn to vomit.

Inform 7: I've been thinking a lot about Interactive Fiction these days, and I've dabbled with the I7 system previously. It's an interesting genre, but it's obviously so far removed from the modern gamers perception of what a game is, the market is quite limited. But I love it nonethessless, even if I'm hopeless at the game I'm trying out.

Hardboiled Slang: Fact: the term 'getaway sticks' is the best slang for legs, ever.This fact is indisputable, and permission is fully granted to use it in every day speech, even where wildly inappropriate.

Oh, and lastly, some blogs that I've been recently reading.

And I must have listened to this about 50 times today.

Happy browsing!

+1 Pants of Drving. Pure win.

2008-04-03T10:42:00.003+11:00

Now, in the first Random_Expansion article I did, I mentioned that out of all of the ideas there, I loved the Occult Tank Crusade idea most, and in passing, mentioned that I would love to play it as an RPG, rather than just some drive-along-and-shoot-em-up kind of game. So, looking for inspiration, I googled and Wiki'd all sorts of terms and words to try to get a feel for other vehicle-based RPGs, just to see what was out there and what had been done with the sub-genre.

And you know what? There's squat all out there.

As far as I could tell, many RPGs used vehicles as either a convenient means to get their characters from A to B (maybe pausing in the middle to fight monster C) or as simple combat extensions of their characters. The vehicles would be nothing more than vessels for the party members - sure, they might fight in the vehicle, use the mounted weapons and what have you, but ultimately the vehicle was not in itself a character, or even a significant part of a character. They were convenient to use, powerful to use, but other than that, no use at all. It ultimately came down to the fact that most RPGs had skills for every conceivable possibility in the game - but when it came to vehicles, the skill taken to operate one was entirely on the part of the player, not the character.

Now in most games, this makes sense. Most fighting / interaction doesn't take part entirely from the vehicle - instead most characters dismount to do such things. But what about a game that took place entirely from a vehicle? Where the tank / plane / submarine wasn't just a vehicle, but the most important part of the party itself - perhaps going so far as to say the vehicle is party, and the characters within mere upgrades? You see, the system I imagine is one where the party members exist solely as crew members of the vehicle. They are all parts of the vehicle's whole, each member bringing their own talents and capabilities to augment or enhance the vehicle's performance.

This presents us with a conundrum. Most RPGs have their stat systems aligned so that they take into consideration, and reflect, the direct physical prowess of the characters. But what use is Strength when you're holed up inside a metal shell? How much Dexterity is required to preform mindless loading actions? We see here that the traditional RPG stats fall apart when we introduce them into a world where the characters fight entirely from a vehicle. Physical stats don't mean anything any more, because they characters aren't being physical. They may preform physical acts - pulling levels, pumping shells - but these can be abstracted away by taking the rather bold assumption that characters know how to do the jobs they're trained for. You can just assume that a Gunner knows how to work the guns. That a Driver knows how to drive. You shouldn't have to test for something at that basic level of aptitude. They wouldn't be a Gunner if they didn't know how to work the guns to the best of their ability. A Driver shouldn't suddenly forget how to drive and strand the vehicle in the middle of nowhere whilst he tries to re-roll and remember which lever does which.

So, what stats can we use? Surprisingly, the mental stats (traditionally something along the lines of Charisma, Intellect and Wisdom) remain. Why? Because these stats are for dealing with interaction between people, and that is at the cornerstone of role-playing. Whilst we can assume that all combat and violence-based interaction will occur from within the vehicle, we can at least predict (and design) that the characters within the vehicle do on occasion get out and mingle with the townsfolk. This sort of system works best in a real-time game, where the accuracy and combat skills of the character are controlled directly by the player themselves rather than some closed-doors number rolling (this sort of thing thoroughly annoyed me in Morrowind, where you could stand right in front of something and not hit it, because your stats were too low. Dude! It's right in front of you! What kind of idiot am I when I can't even hit something with my twelve-foot sword at point-blank range!) We abstract away the stats that should be controlled directly by the player and the physical limitations of their avatar and leave behind the stuff that puts the role-play in RPG.

But, now that we have done away with the physical stats, how do we account for characters who are extremely skilled at their jobs? One of the possible ways is to introduce a skills-set based system. A Driver should have the Competent Driver: Tank skill if they're a competent tank driver. I don't know about you, but I certainly wouldn't let just anyone to drive a tank. I'd expect them do know what they're doing. And the inclusion of this skill means that you're able to drive the tank to the best of your own (that is, the player's) ability. Now, the inclusion of this skill now opens up a new skill-tree - Driving: Tank Skills. This is where the customisation of each character comes in, and is where their individual talents are introduced. This skill tree may include things such as Skilled Cornering (which advances into Advanced Cornering -> Masterful Cornering), Even Grounded (shakes the crew around less, allows for more accurate aiming) and the like. None of these raise your skills to an adequate level, they simply enhance it. Most RPG systems have you starting off not knowing how to do anything, and then building upon those skills until you're at a Competent or Beginners level. Why? Why not start out at a Competent level and, like I've said before, assume that the character actually knows what they're doing?

Of course, to go another way, you could instead go back to the number-based stat system, and replace the physical stats with some more traditional numbers. So instead of Strength, you have Gunnery, instead of Dexterity, you have Drive. Using a numbers-based system would be far more familiar to players, but it does take away some of the charm. Plus you'll always find it grating when you find those +1 Pants of Driving.

Another issue we have to take into consideration is that most games assuming that the damage being dealt to your characters is against their physical bodies. By fighting from a vehicle, you now have the problem of having 12 inches of reinforced steel between the attack and the character. The vehicle itself could just have the traditional armour / HP setup, or you could have something complex that requires a certain amount of penetration from the attacking weapon, individual health values for the crew members, etcetera.

These are just some random thoughts on vehicles in RPGs. Feel free to comment your own views on the situation.

Captain Grumpy.

2008-04-01T16:23:00.003+11:00

I don't do April's Fools. So consider this blog your reprieve for the day.

Enjoy.

Random_Expansion.001

2008-03-31T09:45:00.000+11:00

So I've decided to start a new series here on Sequential Degenerate, entitled Random_Expansion. It's not that complicated - essentially, I take the output from a bunch of random 'whatever' generators (names, titles, etcetera) and then I expand upon them here. It's an exercise more than anything, and the rambling could always lead somewhere interesting. So, if you have any links to interesting random generators, then post them in the comments and I'll use them for upcoming Random_Expansion posts.
Without further ado, here are three:

Occult Tank Crusade
The Video Game Name Generator
I just want it known from the start that out of all of the ideas here, I love this one the most. The idea of a column of tanks tearing across the open plains, loudspeakers blaring fanatical devotions, devotional banners flying in the wind - to me that's a very cool image.

Now, the first idea I had about this game was to make it a retelling of the Crusades, albeit in more modern settings. As if in some point in history, the Crusades suddenly started again and continued to the modern day, and thus fought with modern weapons. I wouldn't want to make it too modern - circa World War 2, perhaps earlier, would suffice for the feel of the game. But anyway, instead of the time-honoured Knights Templar upon their noble steeds, they'd instead be in tanks - great smoking columns of them.

You would play a character conscripted into the armoured legions of the Church, and the game would progress in a path ultimately leading you to Jerusalem. Along the way, you'd commander various armoured vehicles in various roles - you might start off as a gunner in a small reconnaissance tank, move your way up to the driver of a infantry-support tank, perhaps even take the wheel (levers?) of an artillery or flame tank at some point. You'd have different factions and reputations to appease, and certainly you wouldn't be forced to play the game only from a Christian perspective. I'm a bit weary to use real-world religions, of course, but certainly I would base the three main factions on the world's big three religions (well, those relevant to the geography, at least)

Of course I'd love to play this as an RPG instead of just another mindless shoot-em-up. Look for my ideas on a vehicle-based RPG system soon, as that's beyond the scope of this article.

Monster Horse Races in the Desert
The Video Game Name Generator
Obviously, the name itself needs to be shortened into something that's a bit more digestible. But the concept is strong enough. As always, there are ten thousand ways for a game like this to go, and I'll just list a few of the ones that pop into my head.

Now, the first idea I imagine involves making the game into a simulation. There aren't many horse-racing simulator games on the market (a quick and very lazy Wiki search reveals none, but I know they're out there) so you can always claim the game to be something new and exciting, and for the vast majority of players out there, it will be. But what exactly to simulate? Given my own gaming background, the first thing that leaps out at me would to make a Harvest Moon clone, only instead of crops, you have giant mutant horses. A wealthy sheik would hire you, for some (possibly nefarious) reason, to establish a stable in the sands of his desert home.

Obviously, it would be a darker game than Harvest Moon would ever be. Instead of worrying about cutting enough wood to build an expansion on your house, you'd instead have to ensure that the horses don't eat your jockeys or burn down your training rooms with their flame-breath. You would have to carefully manage a breeding program to ensure that your foals inherit the most beneficial daemonic (or angelic) traits from their parents, and provide an ample and well-balanced food source for each of their special dietary requirements (holy water, blood, sulphur - whatever takes their fancy) And all this set against the backdrop of a sand-blasted inferno. It would be an interesting game - one part Pokemon, one part Harvest Moon, and two parts Silent Hill. It'd be a mix of the macabre and the practical, with plenty of dark humour thrown in. And because the horses are, well, unnatural, this leads to all sorts of twists on the traditional horse race (on which you could place bets and influence odds with strategic jockey-sacrifice) - an underwater horse race, a flying horse race, an obstacle race with pools of flaming oil, etcetera.

Corporate Sniper Fortress
The Video Game Name Generator
Now, we've all played a game where we play one of the mindless servants of a mysterious and all-powerful corporation, and usually one whose primary product is assassination. If I listed them all we'd be here all day. At some point, usually the sequel, the character we play turns on the company that raised him from birth / created him in a lab / paid him (usually after meeting a Hooker with a Heart of Gold, or the Small Cute Child) and thus much carnage in your former home ensues.

Now - what if this was the point of the game from the start? You don't turn on the company, but the only way to climb to the top is using the bullet-riddled corpses of the typing pool? You'd start as a low-level worker, perhaps in the archives. Over time you would learn the routines and habits of your co-workers, and that's when you'd strike - killing or otherwise incapacitating them, and then claiming their place in the company when they call in sick / dead the next morning. Of course, other workers would be trying to do the same as you, which brings a whole new level to the concept of tension in the workplace. Everyone would be eyeing the others off, just waiting for someone to slip up or make a mistake. The higher up you go, the more challenging it gets, not only because the people higher up in the chain are more skilled, ruthless and talented, but because everyone becomes more ambitious. At the drop of a pin, the cubicles could erupt into a massive gun fight, limbs and grenades flying in painfully slow arcs through the air.

Another twist on the theme would to flip the action around, and start at the top. This game would play more like a simulation - you would play the head of a small, start-up assassination company. You'd start by sending of your goons to deal with gang members and other such low-priority targets, but as you grew in size, sophistication and resources, so too would your targets - world leaders and other rival companies. So it'd be like Evil Genius, only with a more precise business plan.

Anyway, that concludes the first Random_Expansion. Feel free interpret the ideas yourself and post comments on what you come up with. Look for more whenever I get bored or run out of ideas for posts.

Whoosh, Whir, Hssssshhhh.....

2008-03-28T08:51:00.011+11:00

So, once more browsing the Iron Tower Studio forums (a forum on the web filled with intelligent, well-spelt people who have a genuine respect for their fellow posters? How dare they!) and came across this post. It's a post about non-medieval fantasy RPG settings, and there are some absolutely wonderful ideas in there. I was reading it and I came up with my own ideas, one of which I'll post up here for all of you to pull apart and discuss (because I'm just overrun by readers...)

The ideas that I had that I believe had the most merit were of the steampunk genre. Now, I love steampunk, and as a setting for a game, it's simply wonderful. All that romanticism and nobility, combined with all that hissing and wonderfully implausible technology. You mention steampunk to anyone and you'll either be met with blank stares or blank stares again, but the second time induced by the person being lost in the infinite images it conjures. And there are all manner of variations, all manner of sub-genres, an infinite number of settings it could be applied to. Admittedly, it's not for everyone. But I love it, and I might as well get all this gushing fanboi-ism out of the way.

This steampunk universe is rather orthodox - steam, obviously, is the major source of power. There does exist an aether in the universe, allowing ships to propel themselves across the void between worlds using... well, propellers, and sails, and all manner of traditional ship-based propulsion. It takes place in a sort of pseudo-alternative universe where the British Empire never collapses - India is their industrial heart, Africa their agricultural wonderland, and despite a number of pesky uprisings, the American Colonies seem to be finally pacified and reluctantly accept their place in the Empire. The world as they know it under their heel, they decide to turn their attention to the stars and so the various navies of the world begin the construction of their aether-borne starships.

Now, the ideas for games I have in this setting diverge here. They all share a common universe and foundation, so they're all connected in some way. In this way, a few of them may be suited as sequels or prequels to the others, or just alternatives to fill out the rest of the universe. Regardless, they are:

Battlepunk Galactica
This first idea draws heavily upon that most sublime of television shows, the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica. If you haven't seen or at least heard of it, I'm not going to try and convince you to watch it, because you're obviously the sort of person who prefers to sit in a dark cave with their fingers in their ears going 'la la la' instead of giving in and just watching the finest sci-fi of modern television.

Ahem. So, being the weird and perverse person that I am, one of my favourite parts of Galactica was the 'Survivor Count' - a number tacked onto the opening credits that would update depending on the death / birth toll in the previous episodes (usually getting smaller and smaller each episode) This seemed like a great mechanic for a game to me - the precise, cold, calculating horror of watching that number grow smaller each time you play because your actions couldn't halt it.

So, the idea for this game is that you're on a ship - the HMAS Madagascar. A young junior officer from the Colonies, this is your first posting, and it's relatively easy - a simple surveying mission of some far-off stars. The voyage is long, boring, but hard work, and for the most part you're easing in to Naval routine relatively easy. This part of the story is played as a prologue / tutorial - establishing the universe, the controls, the major characters, etcetera. It's not long, however, until the excrement hits the propeller.

Disaster strikes, as it is prone to do. This part of the story is left intentionally ambiguous to the player, allowing them to discover the true horror of their situation by themselves. The ship has been severely damaged and almost torn into pieces, and with the engines non-functional, the aether begins to drag your ship towards the violent yellow sun that you were originally surveying. The various departments begin to sign in - Engineering, two-hundred dead. Gunnery, fifty-seven dead. The casualties come in thick and fast - all apart from the Command, whose silence echoes throughout the ship. You painfully realise that you are the senior ranking officer left alive (or, at least, alive enough to give commands) The ship is tearing apart, fuel and atmosphere venting into space. Fires raging from aft to stern, coolant leaking across the decks. You're drifting closer and closer to the star with each passing minute.

You add it up. You have 382 men left alive out of a crew of more than one thousand. Four, maybe five hours at most, you guess, until the star has you and you're all dead anyway. And it's your responsibility to get as many out alive as possible. The numbers burn harsh in your mind - 382 survivors, four hours left. Get to work.

So, essentially success in this game is measured by how many people you can rescue. The number of survivors is a permanent and major part of the interface, drilling that number deep into your mind. You go about the ship, putting out fires, clearing obstacles, repairing systems and connecting isolated decks, dealing with the crazies (the traumatised and insane), helping the wounded, trying to discover what's going on and what happened to all the Officers, bar you. I'm reluctant to have an actual time-limit on the game, because as a rule I don't really like them, either being far too small for a casual gamer to enjoy, or being so large that they aren't a challenge at all. Perhaps an Iron-Man Challenge Mode that enforces the time limit, and also doesn't display the number of survivors.

The game itself would be engineered as a kind of survivor-horror game. All that death, all the horror. All those survivors counting on you, and only you. Something just beyond perception, something that doesn't sit right in the pit of your stomach. I'm in two minds about using randomly-generated areas in the game. On the one hand, having pre-defined and created levels would help define and refine the theme and mood of the game. Randomly-generating it all, however, would make each play through a new experience, which would add to the tension of trying to save everyone. A careful mix of the two would be nice. (++EDIT++ - perhaps the layout of the ship would be the same each time, but the damage would be randomised? And perhaps a different crew roster each play)

Tax This!
The second idea I had was to retell history, only obviously in this steampunk universe. Most of us know the basic story of the American Revolution, right? Britain sends the Colonists across the pond, exploits resources, and the Americas revolt? Well, this time, the colony in question is Mars. I don't know enough about American history to really give this idea the legs it needs, but I'm sure some of you out there can think of all manner of famous battles that could be played out across not only the Martian soils but the aether as well. Of course, Mars would itself be a fractured place, full of internal conflict and opposing viewpoints on what they'll become when (if) they manage to separate from the Empire. So you could even introduce the American Civil War into the equation, with the Martian equivalents of all those involved sides (even introducing the Germans and French)

A game like this would ideally be one where you play all sides of the conflict - instead of changing levels, you instead change characters. You might start off as a Colonist in the early days of the colonisation, being all oppressed and taxed by the Empire. You could then play a Naval officer on the fleet on-route to quell the rebellion. And then you could play a French spy, helping the Colonists set up their defences and root out subversive Imperial elements. And then back again to a German mercenary, leading the attack on Mars. All those perspectives would really help flesh out the conflict and add some real emotional impact to the game - characters and friends that you nurtured whilst playing on Mars would be brutally cut down as you were playing as the Empire.

Each mode could also become a new game unto itself. The Colonisation Phase could play like a Fortress-Mode Dwarf Fortress. The French Spy part could be a stealth-em-up. Of course, you'd have to be careful to make each part distinct enough to stand on their own, but still have common, underlying ideas - perhaps the interface and most of the controls are the same, but change design (colour, layout, etcetera) for each faction you play.

So there are just two of the ideas that I had. I think both them have merits, and I'd be glad to see any discussion on expanding or implementing them.

Related / Useful Links:
Wikipedia Article on Steampunk. Contains all manner of useful links and distractions.
Yours In A White Wine Sauce! A fantastic steampunk blog, centred mainly around miniature wargames, but covering many general aspects of the genre as well. Contains more links to interesting things than I could ever gather.

Vegan Cavemen?

2008-03-27T07:38:00.005+11:00

Continuing on from my discussion of effectively emulating a society in my previous post, I have had this idea floating around in my head for a while now.

Essentially, you start off with a bunch of cavemen under your control. Well, perhaps control isn't really the right word - you're more of an observer, a deity of sorts. These little cavemen go about their business, doing what they do to survive. But you can intervene to influence the young society's beliefs and outlooks. So, if you want to make a tribe of bloodthirsty savages, you 'reward' them when they kill something (including each other). You bestow gifts on the members of their society that you feel are closest to your intentions, and the rest of the tribe grows envious and attempts to emulate them.

The point is, you're manipulating the behaviour of the tribe. You're not telling them 'go eat' but instead punishing (or rewarding) them for eating a particular something. If you give the flu to every guy that eats meat, the rest of the tribe well eventually figure out, 'Well, maybe we shouldn't eat meat?'. And then you reward the most die-hard of vegetarians with healthy children or bountiful crops. And this level of control would be really precise - you could make them wield only a particular type of weapon or favour particular colours, for example. It's a game of positive and negative reinforcement, essentially.

But the kicker would be that you wouldn't just control one tribe at a time. You'd have an entire ecosystem to play with. Multiple tribes and even animals that you could influence over the generations to your own particular ends. Want a tribe of pacifists? Done. Set them against your bloodthirsty tribe? Go ahead. Guide the sabretooth cat's evolution so that they become the size of houses? Try it.

It's a little bit Black and White (perhaps very much Black and White), a little bit The Sims. And these are just a few of the ideas that I had. It's complicated, sure, but it'd be fun at least. One idea I had to expand it would to be to separate it all out to different planets as well, but that'd probably be over-complicating things. I had grand visions of guiding the competing civilisations to violently opposing outlooks on life and then just sitting back and watching them murder each other. I can't imagine there being a point or goal - perhaps survival alone would be motivation? Perhaps once your civilisations reach the Space Age you could download other people's civs and set them against each other?

The Orcish Eco-System.

2008-03-26T09:19:00.009+11:00

One thing that's always bothered me in games is opponent distribution. That is, the way that Bad Guys just seem to be hanging around in numbers for no discernible reason. "There's Goblins in that cave!" you hear a Peasant say. Why? He looks confused and simply mutters "Erm... because they've always been there." But why? Why are the Bad Guys there? What are they doing? Why not do it somewhere else, away from all these pesky adventurers? Surely a monster has more aspirations in life than to be a squishy and fluid-filled obstacle between you and your (formally their) loot?

We take the common example of Orcs in a Mine. Why are they there? Are they guarding something? Are they actually mining? Do they live there, or are they using the cave systems as temporary housing on their migration to somewhere else? Are they refugees? Its all about context. It's all about why they are there. And, more importantly - where are all the non-combatants? The wives, husbands, children? The farmers and cooks, butchers and administrators and all that? You enter the average Orcish Mine, and all you find are the warriors. Where are the others? Are they deeper in the cave? Somewhere close by? What feeds and clothes these warriors? Who pays them? How does the food get there? What about water?

Imagine this scenario: you come across an Orcish Mine and, amazingly, rather than just stand around waiting to kill something, the Orcs are actually mining! Every day like clockwork, carts filled with ore are shipped out along the road, and in return, shipments of food come back to them. Now, what to do - you're not strong enough to take them all on. Your options:

Intercept The Ore Shipments. By intercepting these, the Orcs are effectively not paying for the food they receive. Their employer then stops sending them food, and you can starve the Orcs into submission.
Intercept The Food Shipments. Starve them out once again. This also annoys the employer, who stops receiving ore because the Orcs think they're not sending food any more. The above two options may cause the employer to send his own soldiers to bring the Orcs under their heel, and in the resulting carnage, allow you to infiltrate the mine and achieve your objective.
Ransom The Non-Combatants. Upon closer inspection, you see that the bulk of the Orcish population lies in a camp not too far away. Whilst the warriors and miners spend all day toiling in the mines, the women (wom-orcs?) and children spend their time in the village. You decide to use this to your advantage! Timing it just as the day shift moves off to relieve the night shift at the mines, you spring into the village and abduct as many children as you can carry, and leave behind a note with your demands. This alone would cause conflict in the ranks - those who want to capitulate versus those who want to hunt you down and use your organs in decorative flower arrangements. You can then wait for a response, or, using the above conflict, infiltrate the mine when the Orcs are at their most divided and distracted.
Negate The Specialists. By 'removing' the important parts of the society - the cooks, brewers, administrators, trainers and what have you - the Orcish camp falls into chaos as more Orcs with no skills are forced to preform tasks they simply can't do. The proper amount of food isn't ordered. Warrior skills dull as they aren't being trained properly. Shifts of miners aren't organised properly and production falls behind. Improperly prepared and incorrectly cooked food leads to bad moods and food poisoning. You might then 'distract' the replacements or pose as one yourself.
Buy Them Out. Simple. If you're light on might but heavy on coin, why not become their new employer? If these Orcs are mercenaries, why not just through money at the problem? And if they're not, you'll always find some ambitious little whipper-snapper who'd gladly take some coin for you to remove their rival and look the other way when you come calling.

You could, of course, simply grind away until you are strong enough to take them all on or find a band of like-minded adventurers to help you. But see how many possibilities you have when you introduce a plausible need and reason for the enemy to be there? I've only listed a few of the possible options, and I'm sure the more creative amongst you could postulate your own scenarios until the cows come home.

Introducing non-combatants as a part of a larger social group is an interesting concept. I know that D&D has a set of arbitrary numbers to represent these groups, but you don't really see it that much in general. It could lead to all sorts of new game mechanics - if you slaughter all the adults but let the children live, you create new opponents that would track you down at a later stage to have their revenge, for example. Or, the ability to attack only a particular part of the society would cause the rest of it to collapse into anarchy, in a form of cunning brutality. By introducing your opponents not only as enemies, but as a society, then the sky is the limit as to what you can manipulate to your ends. And it's far more satisfying to say 'I brought down the entire Crooked-Tooth Orc civilisation' than it is to say 'I killed them.'

Of course, you'll find that the above isn't really implemented in a lot of games. Why? Because it's so much simpler to code AI that says IF player = near THEN crush, kill, destroy. The above AI needs something that I call Needs-Driven Intelligence, which is largely what we humans run on. If we need something, then we attempt to fill that need. If we need food, we find it. If we need money to pay for that food, we work for it. If we need to kill the player to ensure our job is done and thus get paid, then we kill the player. This kind of intelligence makes it far more realistic, but also adds a level of complexity to the code that simply isn't needed for the vast majority of games. Most game's idea of immersion is how immersed the player can get in pools of blood. I believe, however, that more and more games are implementing it - such as The Sims and Oblivion, which drives the NPCs (however simply) via their immediate needs.

So how does this Need-Driven Intelligence (NDI) work? Well, you'd need a set of variables that define the basic needs of a character - Job, Wealth, Hunger, Shelter, and probably something like Family and Social as well. Each need would feed another - so Job would increase Wealth, that would pay for Hunger and Shelter as well. Job would only increase Wealth at the completion of a set task - Guard or Patrol or something (remember the non-combat roles - Mining, Bookkeeping, Cooking, etcetera) And as part of that Guard, there would then be motivation and reason to actually want to inflict harm upon the player, in order to increase their aforementioned Wealth and thus buy Food to fulfil their Hunger Need. The creature's Family Need would motivate it to care if you attacked the village and took their children. Another, more remote character's Wealth Need would be the reason why the Mining operation would be set up in the first place. Of course, it's probably far more complex than I'm letting on, but knowing the basics and implementing it from the beginning would make it simpler in the long run.

By introducing enemies that respond to needs we move much closer to them actually being a society rather than a random grouping of creatures that share the same racial type. And that's what immersion is. It's not making you the pivot of the known universe, it's making you feel like the universe would happily exist without you. That you're just another small player in the cosmic theatre.

But anyway, those are just some ideas. Feel free to add your own.

C-C-Creative Commons!

2008-03-26T08:39:00.003+11:00

Just added the Creative Commons information to the right, just to formalise how I want people to use the content on this blog. Basically, use it. Tell me about it. It's that simple. A lot of people out there get very guarded and precious when asked to put their ideas out there on the inter-webs, and I can understand why. But you using my idea won't steal it from me - I'll still have the idea, and now so will you. You haven't stolen it from me, you've adapted it from me. Most of the ideas I'll be putting up here are just that, ideas - something that I think might be good and worth doing, not only in games or design that I would use, but also in games and whatever as a whole.

So yeah. If you like an idea that you've seen on this blog, and want to use it, go right ahead. Drop me a line and give me credit in the... erm, credits. That's all I ask.

Hit It With Your Second-Best Shot.

2008-03-26T07:35:00.008+11:00

In the past few years, scales of morality have become a common feature of games. If you do things the developers have arbitrarily decided are 'bad' you get Renegade / Dark Side / Way of the Closed Fist / Whatever points. If you do something 'good' you get points for the opposite side of the spectrum. Of course, a system like this doesn't allow for a lot of subtlety. And it all falls apart at one single point - almost any game requires you, no matter your skill or outlook, to kill.

Now this doesn't sit right with me. Now, I'm all for tearing the arms off something and beating it to death with the wet end, but what about the player who, for a challenge or own personal perspective, want to actually play a straight-up good guy? What does being forced to kill mean for them? You could argue about post-modernism and ideological perspective all you want, but on the whole, killing is considered a 'bad thing'. And yet players are inevitably forced to kill for their character's cause. The kill may be for moral purposes (such as the defence of one or another's life) but it's a kill nonetheless.

Some games allow you the diplomatic option. But in most games this is poorly implemented, and equates to endless trial-and-error dialogue trees. And even then, it often means avoiding the enemy, thus negating the experience, shinies and training that killing it would provide. The more advanced diplomacy options often boil down to the character talking someone else into killing for them. And then that's still blood on the player's hands, if not only by association. And let's not forget the final point - diplomacy is boring. There, I said it. I'm sure some players get their kicks reading endless pages of dialogue and memorising obscure (or either painfully stereotypical) personality traits, history and quirks about the character they're trying to talk to. I do, in certain situations. But given the choice, the average player would much prefer physical over intellectual action. Hitting something with your +2 Maiming Sword of Face-Melting is much more direct, simple, and easier than rolling endless Charisma and Intellect checks.

Now, how do we solve this problem? Well, allowing the diplomatic option is always a good idea, even if it is rarely used (and rarely used well) Knights of the Old Republic 2 had an interesting battle towards the end that included an interesting mix of combat and diplomacy (turn away now if you're still trying to complete it) Basically, during the battle against Darth Sion, it would pause for a conversation once and a while, giving you the chance to talk down your opponent and attack him verbally / psychologically, weakening him physically. In fact, it was the only way to kill him in the end - convince him that he was already dead.

What if we were to apply a 'Dialogue' option alongside the traditional Attack, Magic, Item, etcetera options that accompany many RPGs? This would allow players to attack their opponents psychologically rather than just killing them. The options would range from outright threats and and taunts, to more subtle appeals to the target's character and belief system. And, of course, outright pleading and bribery. This option has been seen in quite a few games, usually falling under a type of Magic or a particular skill-set available to the Bard-like classes. The problem with this system, of course, is that most verbal attacks in games are geared towards de-buffing the target or causing them to flee the battlefield (and thus taking all their experience and items with them)

Moving on, the Metal Gear Solid games had an interesting system - essentially, it boiled down to the simple addition of an additional HP bar, only called Stamina. Normal, lethal attacks would drain the regular HP whilst (and correct me if I'm wrong) melee attacks and tranquilliser guns would drain the Stamina bar. If HP reached zero, the target would die. If Stamina fell to zero, then the target would be unconscious and remain that way for the rest of the game (effectively dying in terms of game effects, but easing the player's assuredly tortured psyche) This seems like an elegant, simple solution to me. It allows the player to physically attack the target, and receive the items and experience from defeating them, but it doesn't involve killing to remove the target from play. Depending on how this system is implemented, it could involve simply selecting Attack -> Non-Lethal or simple inventory management on the part of the player.

Expanding on the idea of dealing 'Non-Lethal Damage (NLD)', what benefits would it have for the player who doesn't care that they're killing? If we take the NLD as a means to render the target unconscious, then perhaps the closer it is to this state, the less effective it fights back, going through various stages of being dazed, confused, and disorientated. Perhaps the target needs a certain level of Stamina to use a particularly heavy or dangerous weapon or attack. This then means we see the NLD as a form of de-buff, which provides an incentive for the player to use even if they're planning to kill the target. Punch it in the head until it doesn't know what it's doing, and then slice off its arms.

Dealing NLD would always be an option for the player, but what about for your party members? We've all played RPGs where a party member was aghast at the thought of killing, yet would always capitulate to your commands to kill, kill, KILL! By making an NPC deal only NLD, we have a character that actually doesn't want to or like killing, but can still deal offensive (and useful) damage in combat. Simple, useful, and still in-character for the NPC. Conversely, bloodthirsty characters may suffer penalties for dealing NLD (such as reduced effectiveness, reduced accuracy, or even dealing standard - although reduced - lethal damage in addition) if given the option at all.

But what about the Pacifist player? One who refuses to raise a single finger against an opponent, even in the defence of their own life, even if given the non-lethal damage option? Now, I would never suggest making a game where the player serves as nothing more than a good-natured punching bag between load screens, but it's an interesting question to ask when designing. How would a player who doesn't want to attack get past this monster / obstacle / boss? Can they talk their way out of it? Stealth around it? Manipulate events earlier in the game so that the situation never arises?

So what are your ideas on implementing non-lethal gameplay?

Speech-Based Magic Casting.

2008-03-25T19:05:00.023+11:00

So I came across a few interesting implementations of magic-casting in games whilst browsing the Iron Tower Studios forums recently. It started in a discussion about gesture-based magic casing, where the user would draw the elements of the spell that wanted to cast on the screen (presumably using the mouse, although using a Wiimote was also brought up). So, if you wanted to cast a Fireball, you'd squiggle the symbols for Offensive Magic, Projectile, and then finally the elemental.... element, for lack of a better word, for Fire, and poof! - the game would respond and your Mage would pew-pew-pew off a Fireball.

Now this got me thinking. A few posts earlier, someone mentioned a game system that used spell components, but unlike gestures or the standard D&D item-based component system, it was based on using syllables to cast the spell. It didn't mention much but from what I could gather there were certain syllables (presumably from some ancient and probably Elven language) for things like Fire, Defence, Projectile, Poison, etcetera. The player would then combine the elements of the language he'd learnt (read: unlocked by smacking things) to create their own spells.

Now this strikes me as a very original and interesting game mechanic. Most magic systems in games rely on you paying gold or experience to gain the spell in addition to your regular spells, usually progressing in 'lines' from established spells and power - often something along the lines of Fire, Fira, Firaga, etcetera. But by using the syllable-based system, it not only enforced but encouraged creativity and experimentation on the part of the player.

Imagine the scenario: you start out as a young Sorcerer, with nothing but a freshly-bound spellbook and a burning desire to... well, burn things. Stumbling around, you eventually come to the local village and, taking offence that the commoners dare still draw breath in your hallowed presence, you whip out the book and find that, in the Ancient Tongue, the sound for Fire is 'Ah'. So far so good. You flick through a few pages and discover that the sound for Great Power is 'Ule'. Excellent, you cackle! With these two elements you have the basis for a powerful fire-based spell. But the delivery? One last ruffle through the pages and you have a choice - 'Dac' for Projectile, or 'Urt' for Burst. You decide on Urt.

So, having assembled the word, you point your quivering hand at the nearest Peasant and scream 'Uleurtah!' - meaning, of course, Greatly Powerful Burst of Fire - and, with the stink of ozone in the air and your cry echoing in the hills, the targeted Peasant explodes into flame and dies a horrible, barbecued death.

So, we can divide the above spell into a number of 'parts', for lack of a better term. These are:

Element: This is the traditional RPGesque element-based magic types. Fire, Ice, Water, Poison, Dark, Light - whatever. The example we use above is Fire, although this doesn't have to be elemental in the tradition sense. Since it is sound-based magic, we can impart tone and mood to the sound - so you could include things like Love or Hate as elements. I'll expand a bit on this below, however.
Strength: The power that the Sorcerer imparts into the spell. To abstract it away, this could simply become an MP cost, scaled in line with the other elements of the spell and current level.
Intent: The point of the spell itself. We used Burst in the above example for an area-of-effect element to the spell, frying that poor Peasant. But you could also have things such as Projectile, Self, Environment.

So, we end up with a three-part spell casting system. It's a bit unorthodox, but it's easy to get your head around once you divide it up into elements. You choose the element, the strength, and the type of the attack - pretty much the same as it is in current systems, although this one doesn't spell out (no pun intended) your options and possibilities as distinctly as traditional magic-casting.

But are we using this system to it's full potential? If we take the concept of using sound elements as spell components, why not elaborate further and really exploit the possibilities that this system introduces? I mentioned above about using emotion as a form of element alongside the traditional natural elements. How about we use emotion as an 'spell wrapper' of sorts? So instead of simply saying the spell, you lovingly say it. You angrily say it. You boastfully say it. These in turn would effect the subsequent spell in appropriate ways - lovingly saying something may have non-lethal or beneficial effects, for example. Whilst you would have some control over the emotional content of your spell, it would be limited in some way - you'd be less likely to bring yourself to say something loving to a party member whose actions or deeds opposes your beliefs or personality, for example.

Continuing, we then abstract the Strength into this spell wrapper. The louder you say something, the more power it has, because more people hear it - why shouldn't spells be more powerful if you speak them more powerfully? So you could have the option of whispering or shouting a spell (and, of course, all the levels in between), which in turn would add power to it (and also have the associated negative impacts - it's hard to be stealthy screaming 'Fire! FIRE! FIRE!!' at the top of your lungs, and all that protracted yelling would strain the vocal cords and make each spell less effective)

So, having abstracted the Intent and Strength into how you actually say the spell, we leave the spell itself open to combining all sorts of other components, possibly stacking various syllables to further enhance the spell itself. Perhaps, as the player increases in strength, they are able to string together more and more syllables into words? So, they start out almost grunting monosyllabic spells, but once they reach the end of their adventures, they can string together almost entire sentences.

So those are some of my initial ideas on a Speech-Based Magic system. I'm sure there are all sorts of differing opinions and perspectives on this, and I'd be glad to hear anyone's input on this. As always, feel free to implement these ideas into your own games. I'd be delighted to hear from you if you did, if only to inflate my own ego.

Relevant Linkage:
The original Iron Tower forum thread.

It Begins.

2008-03-25T19:01:00.001+11:00

With no small amount of enthusiasm I start what surely feels like the millionth 'I'm going to start a blog and this time I'm serious' post. We'll see how long it lasts. Or, perhaps a more accurate assumption, how long it doesn't.