The Micro Boundary
The micro
boundary is actually surprisingly difficult to solve. The macro boundary can be
worked into the narration and the stream of the game but when it comes to the
small boundaries that the player comes across whilst playing, how do you go
about doing that? What are the options available?
Let's take, for
example, the humble doorway. In a game where there are may be hundreds, it
won't be possible to be able to interact with every one of them, simply because
of the amount of work involved for something so trivial. This, however, got me
thinking. What if we do have a situation whereby the player will be faced with
a multitude of doorways? How can we solve the issue then?
When all seemed
to be lost the helping hand actually came from a quote an old teacher said to
me once: "Don't tell me what we can't do, instead tell me what we can
do."
I'm sure he got
it from someone (possibly Admiral Nelson, if memory serves) but this quote made
sense in this context, too. If we have a multitude of doors (or any other kind
of barrier) then we don't need to tell the player which ones they can't go
through but simply tell them the ones which they can!
However, the flip
side is that there may be times when we do
want to impose a challenge where the player may want to find the correct door.
What do we do then? Do we revert to the old style of continual trial-and-error
or is there perhaps a more elegant solution?
Back to another
field of study -- web design. When designing web sites, the rule is "three
clicks and that's it." In three clicks or less, the user is supposed to be
able to find what they want. Why can't we use this magic number for games, too?
If we do want to
have a number of doors in one place that are to be identical and only one
opens, then possibly limiting this number to three could be enough to ensure
the player does not get frustrated. I could be wrong in this -- and more
research is required -- so if anyone out there wants to collaborate, I'd be
more than willing to help but, as it stands, it does seem to actually make
sense.
So, now we have a
potential solution, but how do we now go about explaining to the player that
some can be interacted with and some can't?
In the previous
article I mentioned how Call of Duty 4
actually tells the player with a message on the screen if something can be
jumped over. To my knowledge this doesn't detract from the gameplay at all and
in fact may actually improve immersion because the player is not required to
perform a trial and error routine on every small thing.
Is the solution
therefore to simply explicitly inform the user what can and cannot be passed?
In some situations? Yes. In others, no. Below are four possible solutions to
this dilemma.
- Make the intractable boundary blatantly
different to the others. If a player can quickly differentiate between the two,
then this will make things a lot easier. A door to be interacted with could
appear slightly open, while a barrier to be broken can already appear a bit
worse for wear. We could also add sound coming from behind the object to
indicate that something lies behind this
one as opposed to the rest.
These suggestions also tie in well with the rules of visibility and
affordance because a player can tell what can and cannot be interacted with
and, just as important, how they can do so.
- Explicitly inform the player with an icon or
something flashing. The player will quickly see this and know which one can be
interacted with and which cannot. The problem with this is that there is a
danger that immersion could be lost. However, this may be balanced out by the
fact that being unable to find the right way is no longer frustrating the
player. If the player doesn't want this option, then it may be feasible to
allow them to turn it off.
- If the player has an object in his hand, we
could get it to somehow react to a breakable object -- quiver or vibrate for
example. The problem with this though is that the player could potentially miss
it and can still spend a while hunting for that "sweet spot". Also,
what happens if they don't have the
object in their hand?
- A timer-based system that offers hints. This
could be extremely difficult to achieve but if the game could somehow offer
assistance as and where it is needed (a player taking over five minutes trying
one thing over and over for example), then we could alleviate a lot of
potential frustration.
The biggest
problem in any of the above examples is that it undoubtedly means more workload
for the developers. However, surely going that extra mile will make a
difference? The other problem is which to choose.
To be honest with
you, I don't think there is a one-size-fits-all solution here. If the game
requires the player to be able to quickly identify a way through, then
explicitly tell them (Call of Duty 4
is a perfect example), while the fantastic-looking Mirror's Edge (As seen in figure 4) has areas that light up in red
to indicate which way to go.
However, if there is no real urgency then it may
be okay for the player to have to hunt for the solution -- but we must still
ensure that it is easily distinguishable from all the rest. So option one,
combined with the "magic three" rule is probably the way to go here.
Figure 4 - Mirror's Edge,
red path explicitly informing player which path to take
The final two
could be used to some extent, but they could end up being so fiddly to both
develop and use that using them as a solution could actually be more
detrimental to the game than using nothing at all -- invisible walls, for
example.
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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.