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Exploration is one of the most common game mechanics in all genres: virtually every game including a player character contains objectives requiring the player to move the character from point A to point B. Of course, it's the role of the designer to gently nudge the player in the right direction, and this often includes placing blockades in the game world to restrict the player's freedom of movement. Like any element of the game world, it's important that these blockades are consistent with the aesthetics and mechanics of the game world.
However, all too often designers take the easy way out and include uninteresting obstacles to impede the player's progress. Consider the example of a locked door that the game does not let the player enter. Assuming the game in question is an action-adventure title, the player typically accumulates a large number of tools, weapons, and devices that would conceivably allow him to break down, force open, pick the lock of, or dismantle a locked door. Preventing the player from doing something he has the means and desire to do reveals the hand of the designer holding the puppet-strings, and thus immersion in the game world is damaged. The sense of immersion is further harmed if the player character is capable of surmounting obstacles much more difficult than opening a locked door, or if the player character's motivation for trying to pass the door is greater than the character's conceivable desire to preserve the material integrity of the door.
In short, when the player encounters an impassable obstacle, it's important that the thought running through his head is "this is an obstacle I cannot pass," rather than "this is an obstacle the game is not letting me pass."
As such, it's important that in-game obstacles are consistent with both the rules of the game world and the player's in-game abilities. The locked door trope, then, must be cast aside (and no, making the door an enchanted magical door or reinforcing it with space-age indestructible materials are not better alternatives.) Listed below are much more artful examples of telling the player "no, you can't go here yet" without breaking immersion.
Unkillable monster

In Final Fantasy VII, near the beginning of the game is a hazardous marsh where a giant water snake dwells. The player must cross the marsh to proceed, but the monster is faster than the player and will eventually overtake him. The serpent is too powerful for the party to kill, and the player must flee the encounter. Design considerations: Some players tend to feel that any enemy the game presents must be able to be defeated, and thus players may try in frustration over and over again to kill the monster. The monster must be designed in such a fashion that the player realizes victory is hopeless, but still has an opportunity to escape. (Final Fantasy VII actually does not trigger a Game Over if this monster kills the party - remember that a Game Over breaks immersion even more than a locked door.)
Unsolvable maze

There is a room in Castlevania: Symphony of the Night that is a dense maze of spikes that guards a vital item. The spikes cannot be walked on without damaging the player, so the player must transform into a bat in order to proceed. However, the room is bathed in complete darkness, and the player cannot see where the spikes are. As such, the player can't cross the room until acquiring a sonar item that allows the bat to see in the dark. Design considerations: Unless the designer is randomly generating the maze, she must be aware of the fact that the route through the maze can and will be memorized by hardcore players. The designer must take care to define what happens if the player reaches the end of the maze without the ability to know the correct route through the maze.
Unnavigable environment

In the underwater areas of Super Metroid's alien caverns, the player finds his movement extremely impaired: the player cannot accelerate to his maximum running speed, jumps are short and sluggish, and lateral movement is difficult to control. If the player stumbles upon an underwater area before obtaining the Gravity Suit item, he will quickly find himself unable to proceed. Design considerations: It's smart to design for the contingency that someone will find a way through the unnavigable environment. After all, someone might.
Insurmountable obstacle

There is an obstacle between the player and his destination, and he cannot pass it without first acquiring a certain item. Practically every adventure game ever features some of these, and the Zelda series tends to do them particularly well. Examples are too common to enumerate, but I offer a few to pique your designer muse: you can't traverse the walls of the temple without the grappling hook, you can't cross the pit without creating blocks with the magic cane, you can't walk on the magnetic ceiling without the iron boots, you can't walk through the room of laser eyes without the mirror shield. I could go on. Design considerations: This should be the bread and butter of any Metroidvania-style level design. The designer should never settle for "blue key opens the blue door" if she can instead create well-placed obstacles and the means of surpassing them. The added benefit to this is that every "key" the player finds actually grants him useful abilities beyond simply opening the door. The challenge to the designer is to make sure that the obstacle is not surmountable without the required item. Bonus points if she can design it in such a way that astute players can find multiple purposes for items (two locks, one key) without breaking the game.
Enchanted environment

The hallway to the final boss in Super Mario 64 is accessible very early on in the game. However, the game informs the player that without gathering the right number of stars from other areas of the game, the hallway will be endless. The player can continue running indefinitely forward and never reach anywhere. Immediately upon turning around, the player is presented with the exit. Mario 64 is filled with doors that require a certain number of stars to proceed, but this is the only one that is memorable - because it's gushing with flavor. Design considerations: Exploration is a form of mastery over the environment. By presenting the player with an environment that is fundamentally different in some powerful and obvious way, the player receives a strong message that the environment cannot be mastered. This is a great way of forbidding the player from proceeding without breaking immersion in the game world.
Hostile environment

I hate to resort to the same game for two examples, but Super Metroid is a masterpiece and it's filled with enough great level design to merit several articles. There is a certain section of the game's underworld filled with scalding hot gases. As soon as the player enters this section of the dungeon, he immediately begins taking damage and will continue to do so until he leaves. An item must be acquired that grants the player protection from heat before he can explore the area without being harmed. Design considerations: Like the unkillable monster, the hostile environment must be hostile enough that the player wishes to immediately leave without being so hostile that the player does not have a chance to leave. The designer must also make it obvious when the player has the tool necessary to pass the environment.
Locked door

Of course, sometimes it's okay to have a locked door! Locked doors are only bad when they break immersion. If it makes sense for the game world to have a locked door and it doesn't make sense that the player character would want to destroy it, by all means, put the locked door in. Examples include but are not limited to: - any game where "break" or "destroy" are not available verbs (say, a detective adventure) - a door belonging to the player character (such as a house door) - a situation where attacking a door would be socially unacceptable (e.g., a dinner party) - a game where damaging a door is contrary to the aesthetics of the title (stealth games, anyone?)
Next time you think about adding a locked door to your game, consider: is there a better way?
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(Originally posted on Chardish Games, the website for my independent game design and development projects. Follow me on Twitter @chardish!)
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Fallout is probably the only game in recent memory I've played where all locked doors can be opened, whether by lockpicking, using a computer terminal, or literally blowing them up. These sorts of options have been pared down in modern games (most RPGs since then have removed the ability to blow up a door, for instance), likely due to either technical limitations or for fear of it unbalancing the game (as if rewarding a player's ingenuity in a single player game constitutes imbalance). It's a shame that so many games have gravitated away from these sorts of universal rule sets, where players and enemies are governed by the same forces and the world reacts accordingly. I feel as if designers are actually forced to be more creative and make more open-ended scenarios in such situations, because you can't rely on the player not being able to do X or Y unless you literally take control away from him or her... which for me, is simply bad design as it flies in the face of the core strength of the videogame medium.
The unsolvable puzzle/insurmountable obstacle (which basically boil down to the same solution) does work nicely, though, if it's immediately clear that it is insurmountable. For example, if you want it to be impossible to cross a pit without the hookshot, don't make it look like you might be able to cross without--make it obvious that you aren't even close to being able to do so.
Many substitutes for locked doors backfire when you're dealing with players who like to push boundaries. Some people try to follow the path the designers intend, but many others take every opportunity they can find to pull off a weird stunt or get a powerful item early. While I tend to favor the Fallout approach of making everything follow the same rules (making almost all barriers surmountable to a creative player), if you're not going to do that, I'd like it to be clear when the devs won't let me do something.
1. The unkillable monster - That is soo non player friendly. But yea, in a hardcore game like FF, maybe it will work. But many gamers will take that and try fruitlessly to beat the monster and will become pissed off. If I was working on a game and there was an unkillable monster, I'd suggest some sort of special attack he does right at the beginning that shows the player, you can't beat this guy. I.E Player walks up and the unkillable monster does a crazy attack that throws the player out of the battle, "You cannot defeat me!" Or even a clue ".. until you get the star sword!"
2. When talking about the unnavigable environment, you say "Design considerations: It's smart to design for the contingency that someone will find a way through the unnavigable environment. After all, someone might." This is very true. In fact, you should probably have contingencies for all your gate + key mechanics.
3. These are all interesting suggestions, but really they're all just Gate Key mechanics.. Every single one is some sort of disguised locked door. Other types designers may want to use: NPCs, multiple keys (many pieces of a bridge you must find and put together), puzzles.
While we're at it, lets get rid of sliding around blocks onto the right tiles.. that one was cool at first too, but now once I sense it coming it breaks my immersion.
I think if the character is human and there is a door, he should be able to try to break it if he feels like it, even if he has to use his head!
It's different than games like Mario or Pac-man, that clearly have no (or less) reference to reality and so nobody questions "why can't pucman just jump those walls", for example.
I have a short blog post on a related subject here (It's about Heavy Rain and Façade):
http://www.7luas.com.br/english/heavy-rain-x-facade/
That's true but I also think that the damage to immersion grows exponentially when the insurmountable obstacle itself is more difficult than opening a locked door. So for me an unkillable monster is more damaging than a locked door. The relative increase of presumed difficulty brings with it a greater feeling of frustration when failure is discovered to be inevitable because a greater belief in success was invested. In Deus Ex the occasional locked door annoyed me but surrendering to the invincible Gunther Hermann (knowing I shouldn't have had to) cut deeper.
On a slightly different but related note, I think it's interesting what they did in San Andreas in regards to the universe's boundary. Even though it has nothing to do with progressing further into the game something we've all tried in GTA is to see how far away from the game world we can travel. In GTA III and VC we came up against the 'Truman Show Wall' but in San Andreas that wall didn't exist (unless I simply lost patience trying to find it). Several times I just swam, flew, and sailed out further into the ocean and it would take me just as long to get back to shore. The illusion of being allowed to leave was something I felt privileged to be offered.
At least if I see a locked door, I know it is a locked door. I don't waste possibly hours trying to unlock it. (And then you find out some developer thought it would be funny to let you open a particular locked door if you tried to open it 64 times in a row or something.)
As for Zelda and insurmountable obstacles, additional future uses for key items should be mandatory. Two of the immersion breaking aspects of key items are seeing that the only places that you need the item are in the same place that you get it and seeing that the item is extremely arbitrary in its usage. Additional uses for items is something that later Zelda games only mimicked from the original, just as not-key dungeon items were almost immediately abandoned entirely.