The Macro-Boundary
Before we look at
this in a gaming sense, what is our macro boundary for the real world? What
lessons can we take and apply them here?
First off is our
constant friend: gravity. No matter what we do, it is this force that connects
us to the world. Sure, we can break the shackles of gravity, but we must use
specialized tools: an airplane, or the space shuttle, for example. We can cheat
gravity for a little while with the use of gliders and other contraptions, but
other forces then come into play -- such as the weather -- and this barrier is
once again encountered.
Gravity also
plays an integral part within our game worlds. We can only fly with specialized
equipment and even only jump over certain objects. Even the outstanding Crackdown, which allowed your super-cops
to jump amazing heights, as shown in Figure 2, was constrained to this
universal force.
The thing is, even though we could actually do away with
gravity completely in games, this would possibly remove any suspension of
disbelief. Even allowing games to "cheat" this force, maintaining
gravity still works quite well, even in the face of powerful characters, if it
is worked into the story -- which is what Crackdown
did so superbly.
Figure 2 - Crackdown's
gravity-defying leaps
So, our macro
boundaries are there as the "big picture". They can bind -- for want
of a better word -- the player into an area within the game world. An example
from the comments from the previous article's discussions was an island. Here,
the obvious macro boundary is the ocean. Sure, we can allow the player to swim
-- but bogged down with equipment, they can only go so far before they must
either come back or drown.
Another way we
can keep the player on the island is to put a danger in the way -- sharks, for
instance, work pretty well. However, if we use this kind of boundary then it
becomes necessary to make the boundary visible from the onset, which means our
visibility and affordance rules now come into play. The player can see the
fins, and as fins mean sharks, they afford danger.
However, if we had the
scenario where the player swims out and sharks for no apparent reason suddenly
attack them, then it makes no sense. But ensuring the player can see the dorsal
fins from the shore reinforces that it may be pretty dangerous to try and swim
away. This now makes the boundary plausible and contextual. Of course, if there
happens to be a random boat moored up somewhere that won't allow the player to
get in for some reason, then this micro boundary breaks the macro boundary.
Another example I
can think of is the recently released, excellent GTA IV. In this instance, the player is kept to one island due to a
terrorist explosion having blocked up the bridge. In today's chaotic political
climate, this is feasible (albeit slightly clichéd) and it works. However, I do
believe the developers could have worked it better.
What happens is
that when the player completes a certain mission, the bridge is suddenly
cleared of all problems. While this is fine, it may be more immersive for the
player to hear that the bridge is still being worked on as they progress
through missions over the car radio. This could be taken a step further by
actually showing workers on the bridge, as the debris gets physically smaller.
So now we are working the macro boundary entirely into the story, which will
make more sense when it comes to be fully cleared.
Another comment
left from the previous article was that boundaries could be incentive-based.
When I first read this I thought it was excellent. Instead of a physical
boundary, we've now got a mental one, something that is tied into the narration
of the story. The example that was given was one whereby if you leave the
island, your girlfriend will be killed (we always use islands for some reason).
This sounds great. But then I thought about the various types of gamers out
there and then I started to wonder what would happen if you had someone who
said "I don't care if my in-game girlfriend is killed. I'm off!"
What happens in
this situation? If the player decides to cross the boundary and the kidnappers
kill the girl, will it be game over? If so, will this in itself feel unfairly
constrained? Is there a danger that the player would say, "I don't care if she lives or dies. Just let me
go!" The only way this could work is if it was worked so intrinsically
into the plot that it was absolutely necessary that the girlfriend survive.
This now becomes very feasible.
A good example of
an incentive-based boundary is the fantastic Battlefield: Bad Company (and also the previous BF titles). This technique manages to
create a believable macro boundary that ensures players do not leave the
playing field and instead remain in the field of battle. This is achieved
through both visual and audio cues, as seen in Figure 3.
Visually there is
a large red marker around the border of the map, and should the player stray
into it, a warning message appears and states that they are leaving the combat
area. An auditory warning states, "You are entering enemy artillery
range" -- though, again, they should both really be the same message. Also, why they decreased
it from 10 to five
seconds is beyond me. But, that aside, I think this works well because it is
believable, and works well within the game's genre.
Figure 3 - Battlefield: Bad
Company, out of boundary warning
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http://yayitsandrew.com/2008/03/15/fake-doors-and-invisible-walls/
I decided to categorize my obstacles into three groups. The first is doors, which falls under your micro category. The second is invisible walls, your macro category.
I talk briefly about a third category though that your article doesn't cover and this is an implausible boundary. Things like a low pile of rubble that the player feels his or her character should be able to climb over with relative ease yet the game does not let them. This is another type of obstacle perception failure that is common in video games.
The challenges faced in a fantasy universe like Mario's can be tackled more creatively than in a "realistic" universe like Call of Duty or even Gears of War. On the other hand, Mario has much more mobility than most FPS heroes, so the developers cannot have as many internally-consistent micro barriers. This makes each stage in Mario games like a small sandbox that is perfectly executed.
Perhaps the problem of integrating barriers into a game is more one of the execution of the title exceeding the technical capability of the console. Building smaller, denser "sandboxes" would allow developers to make worlds that were believable, justified and consistent until technology advances to the point that larger spaces can be more accurately simulated.
But Shadow of the Colossus did it all very beauitfully. Cliffs which couldn't be climbed, with very normal boundaries on. Ofcourse the exception was moss/hair which could be used.
So not only does the narrative explain you are in the 'forbidden land' Soemthign that needs to be difficult to enter/exit to keep it's respective inhabitants seperate.
It's also huge, and extensive, boasting many areas, you wouldn't find without searching, so the game never feels restricted.
Even the most obvious element that should be impossible to scale is the huge tower in the middle, and that, if you work for it, is even possible. Tehn you ahve to travel a very long thin bridge across to the other side.
The only thing that keeps you from escaping is a very strogn wind, whipping through a tiny canyon passge. Very fitting considering you need to keep black smokey peoples from escaping.
The point i would like to make is that there could be boundaries in a game which, in the perception of the player, might appear to be insurmountable at first, but were meant to be overcome in the first place - see Braid for an example, where the player really has to overcome his own perceived limitations of plausible actions before he can truly master all of the puzzles.
Another example might be the classic game Adventure for the Atari 2600, whose ultimate goal (and source of fun) to many people was to find the hidden easter egg - a task involving many counterintuitive and hardly attainable actions..
What I found most interested was something that you hinted at, but didn't really explore in great detail here: The divide between our desire for unrealistic abilities in games but our bemoaning of unrealistic obstacles.
Player's don't complain about games being "unrealistic" when they can double-jump, but they do when they meet an un-crossable waist-high fence. It's not because the gamer is greedy, and it's not even because the game is "unrealistic," it's because the game is contradicting its own laws of common sense.
In a game where I'm able to jump 30 feet into the air, don't tell me I can't hop over a simple wall, because there are other, taller objects in the game that I have to hop over in order to win. Don't give me destructible barriers I have to break through yet wooden doors I can't even scratch.
Whenever you construct a barrier, make sure it's something that makes sense within the game's universe. No barrier should be comparable to an obstacle that the player can overcome, else the sense of reality (whatever reality is built) will come crashing down.
Obviously, the advantage of this method is that the character tells the Player that this is not the way to go but the Player maintains the option of forcing the issue and is rewarded with the choice to die.
In the event that the barrier is more mundane and does not necessarily lead to death, the character can still express simple disinterest in going that way with easy statements like, “I don’t have time to snoop around here,” or “There’s no time, I’ve got to press on,” or even, “…so many doors, so little time…”
We, as players, expect our avatars to communicate so much and yet more often than not they remain mute when faced with barriers and limitations that need to be communicated. The most obvious solution to me is to have the very conduit into any given game world be the source of our information about said world.
As you mentioned, more often than not, doors that can be opened are marked, either by a light or different kind of frame. Artwork, such as a long shadow, for instance, can do a lot towards directing a player towards the right direction.
Barriers that visually denote their function at a distance permit the player to make split-second decisions without having to approach the barrier.
Personally, I'm not keen on the COD4 approach - if I have to walk to within a few feet of a barrier to determine whether I can cross it or not I may already be dead before I've had the chance to make my escape, or I may arrive to find I'm trapped.
Plus, I consider text/icons on the screen a greater immersion breaker than strong art cues such as highlights around a usable door or making all impassable doors appear broken or boarded up.
-=B
I agree with some of you; strong, leading and informative artwork, level design that leads the player, even tricky camera work can all serve to guide the player where you want them to go instead of telling them.
I recently replayed Ico. In this game the camera is always moving and active; it doesn't stay in third person or first person or overhead view, but always tries to give you the best vantage point of what the game wants you to look at. You have some control over the camera, swiveling it one way or another to get a better view, but often times you'll know the way you need to go even without this, simply because it will look at the object of the next puzzle (of course it doesn't tell you how to solve the puzzle), or the exit, or where the shadow demons are appearing. This kind of active, directive camera work does much to keep the player from getting confused, while at the same time encouraging certain direction.
As for artwork, as was mentioned above, if some doors are meant to be opened and some are not, subtle changes can do much to clue the player as to which door they should go towards. A light over the door, different frame (both mentioned above), perhaps a different shade, level of quality; maybe the doors you aren't supposed to open are clearly locked or blocked or otherwise shown to be the wrong way without ever having to stand next to one and hit the "action" button.
Player Interest.
What can be a player's desire to surpass a barrier?
As Designers, are we doing our job correctly if the player (knowing the correct path upon which progression is furthered) wishes to surpass a (sometimes obvious) barrier, simply for the purpose of investigating what is perhaps place beyond said barrier?
A great example; the game Goldeneye 64. As an avid fan of the game I, naturally, played it to death. If you remember, in the final stages of the first level ‘Dam’, where you are atop the Dam itself, when you looked further down the river there was another guard tower in the distance. This ignited my exploratory persona and… I was off, albeit trying to defeat the game at its very clear and concise world rules and ‘macro-boundaries’, which in this case was water.
Upon further thought, many years later, I had concluded that knowing the game was (although fundamentally groundbreaking in many ways) highly exploitable, due to various glitches and bugs, I had taken it upon myself to ‘hope’ these exploits would work in my favour whereupon I would be able to traverse water and great distance to be united with this intriguing and mysterious tower.
The solution; unless a barrier has been proven 100% impassable previously in the game, the environment/world beyond barriers – both ‘macro’ and ‘micro’ – should ultimately be less interesting than the environment we provide our player.
For example, if a player cannot enter a room (for whatever reason), yet are able to view its contents, those contents should be uninteresting and most importantly, of no importance to the player.
Bad example; if said room had a previously unseen weapon and an ammo cache, or alternatively, a flickering light and a soft tune emitting from a radio.
Good example; if said room was mainly bare, or vaguely populated with meaningless objects (paint tins, cardboard boxes, etc, etc), with no distinct sound and/or out-of-the-ordinary lighting.
I know we’ve all had gaming experiences where our interest has been stolen away from the game’s progression and spent the next 15 minutes assessing the environment around us, attempting every remotely plausible exploit that enters our mind.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this, Gareth.
In response to Trent Kusters.
When you mentioned "What is a player's desire to pass a boundary?"Does this fit somewhat with the conceptual type of boundary mentioned in the article? By making the boundary such an intrinsic part of the game, then we are hopefully nudging the player in such a way that they wish to explore it further.
One of the things you mentioned was if we had a room which the player cannot enter yet is able to view its contents. The problem I would have with this is that I am sure a lot of players will still feel drawn to this room, simply because there are objects there. The problem they will then face is that even though the room holds nothing for them that will aid them through the game, the fact remains that they do not know this and therefore will potentially get frustrated by being blocked in this way.
This is something I think is both fascinating and frustrating when developing games. If we saw something which did not spark our interest in real-life then chances are we would instantly ignore it, walk past without a care in the world. However, what is it about games that makes people want to try every little thing? What makes gamers think that there could be something behind this door, or over that cliff, or out at sea which will help them during the game? So how can we translate this into a game?
In the work done by Richard Bartle he classified gamers into killers, socialisers, achievers and explorers. The thing is though, I have ran playtesting sessions on players who would fall into each of those categories and the thing is, is that each and every one of them tried out lots of different things in the game; things that you think would hold no interest at all, only to have them go ahead and explore anyway.
I also agree with what Brian stated about the barriers in COD4. However, while messages and such can detract from immersion, I found that players lose immersion quicker when they are frustrated by something. So when they get stuck they complained more and looked away from the screen whereas a simple message which appeared in the game had no loss in immersion. What also happens is that messages in COD4 that inform the player a barrier can be passed always appears in the same location. After a while the player won't actually read the message anymore. They will only register that the "Jump message" is there and thus know they can jump over the boundary, immersion in tact.
This is actually a topic which really interests me (i'm not THAT sad, I promise! :) ) and I'd really like to discuss this further with anyone, so please drop me a line and maybe our back and forth discussions can come up with viable solutions.
Enforcing boundaries via invisible walls is basically utilizing the most complex rule of all: Completely random. To the player, it is completely random and arbitrary where s/he can go, and the only way to find out is to try. That's not a very simple rule.
So the best barriers are consistent, affordable, appropriate, visible, and simple.