Saving and Checkpoints
Checkpointing can polarize players' opinions, when points
are spread further apart as a measure of difficulty. Some feel that it's more
"hardcore" to play through a large number of acts, for a longer
period of time than normal, and eventually succeed. Others feel that save and
checkpointing should remain a convenience mechanic and be offered generously,
with an "every 5-10 minutes" philosophy at the core.
The truth is, wider checkpointing tests patience and memory
as much as it does skill, which can frustrate and put off players. Call of Duty
2 had the best checkpointing implementation I experienced in the new
generation, which was expanded even further with Call of Duty 4. Not only was
each intensely exhilarating section in veteran mode beatable within 5-10
minutes (in Call of Duty 2, specifically), players would also get save-able
checkpoints which appear before and after a cut-scene, saving players from
classic tedium moments such as the "Look at all dat juice" scene from
Gears of War.
This infamous portion of Gears of War placed players against
a group of the tough Theron Guard enemies as they laid siege to a pumping
station. Dying in battle restarted the player a long walk back before the
action began, replaying a verbal scene in which one of the characters utters
the immortal line, "Look at all dat juice." Repeating this became
annoying after a while.
Optional quests are quite a common design choice when
providing for hardcore players, as are special missions, or optional pick-ups
in the environment. Younger-skewed games, like Jak and Daxter, Ratchet &
Clank, and Lego Star Wars tend to reward players with an auto-save when finding
optional pick-ups. Gears of War also does this with its COG Tag bonus system.
The great thing about doing this is that players are still
rewarded for the task they performed, but if they die, they don't need to do it
again-they only need focus on the challenge of core play.
Some games, including many PC FPS, rely on players to use
the game's save-anywhere feature, and skimp on checkpoints. Others choose to
space checkpoints far apart, also forcing players to redo all the sub-tasks in
between, meaning maximum frustration for completists who wish to challenge
their skills more than their patience. Black by EA Criterion is one of my most
remembered offenders in this respect.
In that game, upon walking down a hill, shooting across a
field, entering a compound, killing everyone and destroying the place, only to
be shot and killed on my way out, I would have to not only restart the whole
sequence (20 minutes of play), but also collect all the optional objective
items again, costing me that same large chunk of time each and every try. Eventually
I found an optimal route and a superhuman level of patience, but until that
point, I utterly hated the experience for one section of what is otherwise a
very well-crafted game.
The common rationalization designers give when confronted
with these criticisms is usually, "the player doesn't have to do all that.
It's their fault because we made that optional," but what they forget is
that the players most likely to undertake harder skill modes are precisely the
ones most likely to force themselves to get all these things and perform all
these acts. In essence, the designer is trying to justify these choices with
semantics, when what they're really doing is forgetting the truth about their
audience. It's a key part of understanding the whole point behind these modes.
Enemy Count
This can also be regarded as bullet count in top-down
shooters, or basically any increase in kinetic or AI-driven hazards. Obviously,
the more of any of these elements a player has to deal with, the quicker they
have to think, and the greater the sense of pressure and stress, thus the more
satisfying it feels when success is earned. But balancing the pressure with
actual achievability is quite difficult.

Treasure’s Ikaruga challenges players to navigate dense curtains of fire while maintaining awareness of their ship’s polarity.
Ikaruga has arguably done this well. Ikaruga is a top-down
2D shooter with a simple mechanic that also made it equal parts puzzle game.
The ship has black and white sides, switchable with a button press. White can
absorb white bullets and do double damage to black ships. Black can absorb
black bullets and do double damage to white ships.
In easy mode, when a player shoots an enemy, it dies and
that's it. In normal mode, enemies you kill with the same color bullet as your
ship explode in a hail of bullets. In hard mode, all enemies explode in a hail
of bullets. At each stage of difficulty, the puzzle element is changed slightly
so that players have to alter their memorized plans of action and possibly
adapt their reflexes to be a little quicker. This also adds to the overall
stress aspect.
Gradius, R-Type, and other scrolling shooters have a
memory-play aspect in terms of knowing the level's shapes and movements,
coupled with testing of reflexes at great speeds. This is the simplest level of
difficulty adjustment, as mentioned at the start of the article. The odd
additional turret or enemy in a PC FPS can yield somewhat similar results,
while tweaking the player's existing memory map of a level.
Scrolling shooters tend to be perfect for this feature, as
their levels are small and the bullets can behave somewhat organically within a
fixed environment, blending memory play with reflex play, though players do
tend to share optimal solutions for playing through these games.
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One additional suggestion is to turn the problem of difficulty adjustment on its head: rather than designing the game to be relatively easy and increasing the challenge by adding problems or reducing resources, set the default balance to be "really hard" and provide dynamic tools that help the player overcome the challenges.
Some basic examples of such tools would be spawning more ammo and/or health powerups, reducing the number of enemy units, and degrading enemy AI. But a more interesting approach could be for the game to be able to detect when the player is having trouble with one section of the game -- perhaps they frequently die and reload in the same location. As this condition is detected, the game could begin to spawn friendly NPCs with ever-increasing abilities to support the player. "I'll cover you -- you take out that generator!"
The approach has the advantage of allowing the game to be tuned with a consistently difficult level of challenge throughout, while dynamically providing just enough help when and where it's needed to get players through sections they're having particular trouble with.
Another way to make "Simon Says" harder is to redefine the victory condition. The best example is Beatmania's "normal clear" and "hard clear". The evaluation of your success is very different depending on which lifebar you pick. With the normal lifebar you're immortal and victory is defined as a solid performance. But with the hard lifebar not only can you die, but you die easily. Mistakes are still allowed, but you'll lose as soon as the game catches you 'faking it'.
The particular example that comes to mind as an exemplification of this is the arcade shooting game Gunroar, by Kenta Cho (http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~cs8k-cyu/windows/gr_e.html freeware for download. There's also a Linux binary out there). The game always progresses forward AT LEAST at a certain rate and can never get below that. This is the bottom. However, at the player's option he or she might choose to proceed faster and thereby increase the game multiplier faster than it would otherwise do on its own autoscroll. This has two effects: The game gets harder and the score for downing an enemy ship is greater. This allows someone with no experience with the game to gradually come to understand what expectations to have, and allows an experienced player to jump right in and ramp up their personal difficulty in no time at all.
Another interesting facet of Gunroar (and many independent Japanese-made games, if I'm to be frank) is the ability of one to watch replay of one's own gameplay. Some games allow you to save them, but Cho's games tend to use the replay as the game's demo. That is, when you lose in Gunroar, the title screen will have your latest game in the background for you to watch at your leisure. While this doesn't provide the improved functionality of a saved file (you can't speed up, skip, or rewind), it does give immediate feedback on how you played. These games in particular tend to give one tunnel vision because the player's single-shot-death boat is much more important than destroying every enemy. The instant replay allows a wider view of the field while the experience is still fresh in their mind. This replay mechanic serves, then, two roles. One, to help improve the score of the player by giving them the opportunity to better understand where and how to take risks for score; and two, to offer some loss feedback-- know where the bullet originated from and how it moved and why you were there in the first place allowing you to possibly learn from the experience of loss.
I'm of a very strong mind that, with the right balance, dynamic difficulty could eliminate this concept of granular "levels" in the classic sense and we're starting to approach the point where it's computationally feasible to do so. I'm not at all certain that I WANT the concept to die, but that's a discussion for a different day.
One key I've always found is think about difficulty not as making the game more difficult but instead think about it as making the game more challenging.
This could implore ideas of tactics and strategy of AI and combat encounters. More flanking, more aggressive behaviors, AI can hear you better, they track you for a longer amount of time etc...
Yes I agree increasing the hitpoints in npc's is bad, but often used technique. Increasing accuracy can also be quirky. Inc the deadlies of each npc might be a better tuning strategy.
One technique for an action game, for example, might be to make enemies slower or leave longer openings between attacks or have less armour as you, the player, fail more. In sports games, decrease the stamina or some other attribute of the winner at halftime. Make the enemy guns less or more accurate in an FPS, make the enemies less aggressive in an adventuring title, increase the amount of wear on the opposition's tyres as you race about the circuit. There are multitudes of things that can be done to "help" the player surreptitiously without resorting to giving them more than they could have earned normally. Giving handouts in a game is rather irresponsible, in my opinion.
Some of these, at a glance, may seem rather drastic. Indeed, some of them, when hustled hard, could be game-breakingly terrible. But two factors should be considered here. First off, at the point where you're gaming the system like that, you're no longer playing the game you paid for-- you're playing a game of your own devising wherein you purposely attempt to break the core mechanics as thoroughly as possible. You're playing it like an MMO. Second, one iteration of change should have effects that are only noticeable if you know to look for them and then only barely. Subtlety is key in my theory, here (use your imagination. S'what you get paid for, no? :).
But Brad's ideas are still interesting, and I could see them as now being possible in certain genres (hell, you can do anything if you throw enough code at it. It might not be good, but you can do it). Dynamic difficulty, as Anonymous above me notes, is definitely a touchy subject, and one I've given a lot of thought to. I'll still say that I definitely think it's doable, and even a good idea to try. Using subtle gradations rather than large leaps should have a net effect of keeping the pressure on the player and actually nurturing their growth (we can count on powergaming munchkins existing, but if that's how they want to play...well, the customer is always right :/ ).
It's just another piece of the balancing formula, just as difficulty has always been.