I began drifting enthusiastically, frantically, my eager hands prepared on the mouse and keyboard.

You can die In The Drifter, but you'll be back to life moments before, in the same dangerous situation. Infused with pulpy purple prose, the titulary drifter comments on what happened, and sometimes offers hints to progress. It's a nifty mechanic to avoid death and supply diegetic (in-world) hints for progression.

Wholesome level: low to good. The Drifter can be rough thematically, and some death scenes are explicit. But the writing and story build relationships which linger after the end.

The mechanic is also an op for the game to assault your eyes with white flashes - Mick Carter, the drifter, goes from death to resurrection, and tries to understand how to avoid this ultimate peril. Of death and white flashes. (careful if you're prone to eyesight issues, headaches or seizures.)

The white flashes may be justified while the game loads up before imminent danger. But we also get fades between scenes where Mick prepares items for a puzzle or performs needed actions.

The fades work to heighten the tension of Mick's adventure, hiding his anxiety behind poetic effusions.

But sometimes they're only used to avoid the need for extra animations. Which is a shame, because the game's pacing and physicality rely on excellent pixelated animation which should have been extended to all of Mick's efforts.

This is what you'd call telling instead of showing in gaming form. I don't enjoy the trick much - I'd prefer the descriptions be replaced or accompanied by animation, awesome as it is - but the prose augments the unease you get at approaching danger or certain death.

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Mick is pretty good with pulp, but he also over dose it. Sometimes he muses a bit longer with abundant adverbs and purple prose which can diminish the impact of the scene.

For pulp, less tends to be more, at least when finding the right words. To be fair, pulp requires a good measure of purple prose, but it works with brevity and punchiness at the same time.

Max Payne 1, a pulp classic, is better with its evocations because it knows when to stop. Its brevity is more restrained and precise. The Drifter delights in its effusions, exaggerating when Mick eminently describes his dying moments - not exactly worse, a bit of dark humor fitting the moment.

Pulp is a form of writing using punchy, evocative words to get to the point immediately. I'd say pulp is the real form of short and sweet. You find it often in Noir movies, or in some Tarantinos like Inglorious Basterds.

Even so, The Drifter would have benefited by reining in some of Mick's outbursts. There are only so many ways you can describe someone grabbing an object or doing some pedestrian action. Even when Mick describes his toils or the last moment in an adrenaline-fueled frenzy, it's all dark fun and humor, a self-awareness of style and death-defying story.

Regarding this back-before-dying business, a trigger warning fits because some death scenes are gruesome. Play this only if explicit pixelated death doesn't scar you. This could've been fixed with an accessibility option to avoid gruesome scenes, but maybe next time.

Thankfully, this type of lateral design is an effective means to mitigate the need for a reload, while providing help to solve the problem. Trying to 'fix' death and reload in games is not new, it's been done with time travel before.

But it comes off as a most natural mechanic - rewind instead of reload. It's a trick which makes you wonder what else we're missing to make game design less frustrating and more interesting.

The game also uses its time-travel-by-death mechanic through the story, and to eventually solve an essential conundrum. It may be painful to watch Mick seek certain death, but it's a testimonial to the game's ingenuity and commitment to thrills.

Pulp fiction

I mused poetically, drifting to understand the mystery.

Aside from its accessibility quirks, The Drifter is an underground classic. It has retro charm, clever language, and plot shenanigans which you've likely never seen before - like Mick becoming friends with his torturer and bringing him home, as you do.

Being a drifter is a good reason to investigate the premises: homeless people are disappearing, apparently taken by special ops forces or monstrous creatures which may be a result of hallucinations. It's all sudden from the beginning, but an intriguing setup for fans of weird fiction, horror, The Outer Limits, Twilight Zone, Stephen King.

The story delights in playing hardball with its mystery and horror. It throws kidnappings, regret, love, mental issues, immortality, secret ops and horror creatures at a fast pace from the start and drifts along. To enjoy it from the onset, you have to accept its silliness hoping it can resolve its weird horror, or be indulgent with its pastiche of style and mystery.

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The Drifter is wise to link its time travel plot and mechanics with an emotional roller-coaster about loss, inability to face it, and regret. Beyond the cool application of time travel to bypass death, it's the prose, mystery and emotional relationships which keep momentum. Games may or may not be art depending on personal preference and the line between authorial intent and interactivity - but they sure get close when they care so much for their characters.

It's a bit of a depressive adventure, lacking the quirky joyfulness of something like The Broken Sword, but no less intriguing and playing with the same joy of mystery and conspiracy. It's also a perfectly fine "old-school" adventure, the kind which may be frustrating when you get stuck and there's no internet to offer the easy way out. Its weirdly-horror, pixely-looking, pulpy-chatting, synth soundtrack, mystery story are charming, addictive and create enough nostalgia to ask for more by the end.

As pulpy as the mystery gets, it drags a bit in the second half where you go through rapid-fire conversations. They serve as lore - sometimes clever, and investigations. But they're packed tight for a game which flows when you have to uncover the mystery actively, exploring and solving puzzles instead of slogging through information contraptions.

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The last chapters are both strong and stumbly. Mick gets a bit stuck in one major location which occupies most of his time, navigating a labyrinth of intrigue and more difficult puzzles.

The pacing can be crawly compared to the previous events, but drifts with the same pulpy plot building on suspicion and time travel. It's quality puzzle-solving, but by the end you're grateful to not feel like a mouse in a trap anymore - too bad the drifting ends here.

But it's not just the nightmarish mystery which compels progression - it's the care and skill of its writing which makes you... well, care about characters because of their convoluted relationships, how they're dealing with loss, regret, trying to begin anew.

The Drifter is a game of contrasts. White flashes versus black fades, pulp brevity vs. excessive prose, the novelty of its death mechanic vs. trial and error. Its horror is not for everyone, but Adventure fans will enjoy the mash-up of pixelated visuals and retro charm.

In the end, The Drifter drifts away on a wave of nostalgia. For its atmosphere, its mysteries, its mood-sake music, and the strength with which it builds relationships. In terms of emotion and immersion, a sequel can't do much more save the obvious - an equally intriguing story and a better understanding of accessibility.

Philip K. Dick is sometimes invoked as one of the writers most capable to "predict" the future, as much as that's possible through fiction and literature. His writing comes from a time when sci-fi was heavily influenced by fantasy, so the way he approached science was whimsical, "un-scientific", taking any liberties he needed to make a point.

Sci-fantasy is not a weakness in itself, because the point of a story is to have something or someone to care about, regardless of how cool its technology or magic is. Caring about someone may be an abstract matter, but Dick's stories have enough recourse to empathy to matter less that he wasn't a hard sci-fi writer (hard sci-fi being a branch of fiction which deals with realistic applicable science).

Obviously, like previous Philip K. Dick adaptations, this is precisely that: not one-to-one translations of his stories, but modern renditions influenced by current social issues. And this is to be expected. Like sci-fi writers "predict" the future from their own time, experience and knowledge, so we imagine it based on ours.

Wholesome level: low to good, given the context of stories divined from the present, focused primarily on dystopian topics. Some endings are positive, some are not.

• Worth watching?
  Yes. For enthusiasts of sci-fi, sci-fantasy, futurism, transhumanism, technological progress, for how all these impact humanity, in empathy and evolution. Also, for fans of Black Mirror.

Episode 1 - The Hood Maker

Empathy and privacy - or lack thereof

A bit of a similar premise to Minority Report, also a story by Philip K. Dick. A Teep, telepath, is a human who can "read" the minds of those around. At the request of their superiors, they can espouse an opinion about each subject they read, to the point of causing trauma.

Consequently, a Teep can challenge human suspects and eliminate the mental block a person would put up. Teeps are not just lie detectors - they're aggressive interrogators when needed, possible actors in a bad cop routine effacing the lines of privacy and human rights.

There's a parallel with current AI development: Teeps can "scan" people around them - without consent - acting like a knowledge dispenser, a collective mind.

The issue of consent is not brought up explicitly, but implied clearly. In the past, this type of story - conscious "non-human" with feelings, able to intrude on privacy - may have been cliched, but today it's found new relevance thanks to omnipresent AI.

The expected love story developed between the protagonists may be a cliche itself, but the ending justifies and makes it more interesting than just human vs. "non-human". Teeps are humans themselves, a point which may work against the story's plausibility - it's not clear why 'Normals' regard telepaths as subhuman. Then again, this can be seen as commentary on the irrationality of classist oppression.

Episode 2 - Impossible Planet

Lying to the dying

This one takes a while to build up.

With life extension comes a greater chance for disappointment. We pine for memories and nostalgia, but the more we persist in life the more things change, sometimes in ways contrary to our beliefs.

If somoeone has an essential attachment to something - people, memories, places - should we lie to them and not shatter their ideal?

This is the first episode to blend more fantasy, magic realism, weird fiction into the sci-fi. Fans of classic sci-fi will be more at home with science-fantasy, since this is how sci-fi started, as an extension and mix of fantasy and speculative fiction.

The change is gradual and doesn't feel phoned in. As fantasy goes, the end may be a metaphor, but the story avoids taking a stance, which diminishes its grit. The first episode also avoids taking a final stance on its protagonist, but is otherwise explicit about class oppression. Impossible Planet is more of a fairytale, and its ending works well if taken at face value, if we ignore the premise of someone dying.

Episode 3 - The Commuter

Imagination, its uses and misuses

The first story which harkens more to Black Mirror.

The Commuter seems to begin as meditation on the power of imagination to shape a better world, a subject partly related to the previous episode.

But it's easier to see The Commuter as a meditation on the value of imagination and storytelling. If there's one thing good stories do is to tell us that things can get better, that imagination may be pragmatical beyond daydreaming. Impossible Planet may simply be about dying, The Commuter may espouse the importance of imagination in bettering the future.

"A dreamer dreams big," says a character half-way. She also complains people didn't think the utopia portrayed here was not interesting enough.

By the end, The Commuter becomes a mix of ideas, some heavier and difficult to complete in its runtime. This makes it worthwhile, together with how it avoids being just another story about imagining utopia. From the ideal of using imagination for a better world, to the peril of using it to avoid responsibility and trauma.

Episode 4 - Crazy Diamond

Double indemnity and "artificial" intelligence

If human-created intelligence - like present-day AI - is complex enough, it virtually resembles human mental capacities. The so-called artificial form of intelligence will want to survive, perhaps thrive, and may resort to manipulation to do so. Here, the intelligent entities are human-like creations of genetic engineering considered second-class citizens.

As conflicting as the idea may be, a human may also fall in love with a sufficiently evolved "artificial" form of intelligence. The debate gets complicated because we don't know how to clearly define consciousness.

Declaring that AI or AGI (artificial general intelligence) is not alive may be a moot point once it achieves enough complexity and appears self-aware. Possibly the best happy-end of the season.

Episode 5 - Real Life

The potential and dangers of VR

The first episode which seems strait out of Black Mirror, with a classic bitter ending. Similar flair for fast-paced plot, dealing with trauma and how technology can affect identity and addiction. It harkens back to Ep. 3 in how it talks about ways to escape trauma.

It's normal to seek a break from traumatic events or self-doubt. With technology becoming an ever stronger drug, the new life we gain through simulated environments may seem more real than reality. Or at least more desirable, to the point we doubt if we ever want to return.

If a simulated life is more real or desirable, is it anyone's business to stop you from staying there? More so, there may be valid ways to help treat trauma through simulated environments and games. The story here forces the argument with a severe traumatic event, but the potential remains, though the moral is a warning on the dangers of doubt, technology and addiction.

There's also a gratuitous orgasm, but that's no reason to complain, and may be justified by how some characters explain its context.

Episode 6 - Human Is

Empathy, probably

Human Is seems to begin as question on the price needed to maintain the human species in the face of an extinction event, but discards this thread. The first half meanders until the second picks up and resolves the title in an expected and satisfying way.

The story is partly a commentary on the common situation where someone's personality may adjust after a traumatic event. Anyone who's ever been through a powerful experience, good or bad, knows how certain moments can dramatically alter one's life. If not, a midlife crisis may be more common and have the same effect.

On the second half, the story returns to its title to question what it means to be human, including accusations of mimicking empathy and using torture to divine the truth. The answer circles back to the context of a major experience readjusting one's personality, using this as further proof for the accusation. The conclusion is an expected trope, but no less valid.

Episode 7 - K.A.O

When the conspiracy is real

A strong start that bangs together omnipresent ads, human labor vs. automation and how democracy may be overrated in the great meganation of Mexuscan. A dark story in a quaint near-futuristic package with a tedious soundtrack.

For society and the state to prosper, some people may have to snitch on their neighbors, or outright put them down until the law arrives. Sometimes, citizens fall into a frenzy of fanaticism and dislike anyone who's different, here the ones named Others.

A classic trope about authoritarian societies, where anyone around you might be an undesirable, or you may be one yourself. We get the kind of story everyone on the political spectrum will think applies to them, because it's about the courage to challenge authority, and most people think themselves capable of doing that.

Episode 8 - Autofac

Post-apocalyptic customer care

Like everything else, the corporation wants to exist perpetually, and does whatever needed to survive beyond the apocalypse. Sometimes this means maintaining production at all costs, including poisoning the environment.

But the brunt of the story is again the question of what it means to be human. There's no definitie answer here - something may appear as a standard human, may employ human-like behavior and be a copy of someone's personality.

Then again, individuated subjective experience makes it difficult to decide what consciousness is, so any sufficiently advanced AI may have the same level of self-awareness as humans, or may be complex enough to mimic it. Alongside is the issue of cloning and copying personality - putting aside discusions about souls, it may be impossible to verify if an emulated personality is or is not as "conscious" as the original.

Episode 9 - Safe and sound

Invading privacy, preventing crime

Maybe to prevent terror attacks you need to efface privacy. All the people who accept privacy-intruding gadgets in this story would likely agree that you needn't be afraid if you have nothing to hide.

Then again, some do have something to hide, including the ones participating in the system. Couple this with paranoia, induced by health issues or a form of skepticism, and lack of privacy can be devastating. The second half becomes a whole greater than its parts, mixing lack of privacy with a high-school drama with ideological tension plus someone caught in the center with potential symptoms of schizophrenia and how this person might be played by the state, for better or worse.

This is another episode where people can point to tyranny regardless of political bent, because they think only the other side is in danger of creating a technological dictatorship, justified or not.

Episode 10 - The father thing

Stranger dad

Applied imagination is a powerful beast. It can be used to inspire, to escape, to plan the future. In a kid's mind and not only, imagination can transform reality, materializing fears into a palpable threat.

Combine imagination with parents on the verge of divorce and you have a mystery-horror adventure reminiscent of The Outer Limits, Twilight Zone, Stephen King stories and a bit of Stranger Things, all caried by a young boy's imagination.

This might be the only gimmick episode, a story with a predictable non-twist without a strong social aspect. But it's strong enough if you view it as metaphor, as a growing gap between kids and parents filtered through the protagonist's imagination. Otherwise, it's the only episode with a less explicit message, but can still be appreciated taken at face value as a standard mystery-horror romp.

If you think this Universe is bad, you should see some of the others.

Depending on how you deal with the last story, there's no weak episode in this first season. In comparison, Black Mirror seasons are often strong, with the occasional gimmick story without much substance, but it stays afloat with relevant topics and a barrage of subverted expectations.

Electric Dreams is not revolutionary, but it's poignant. Its topics, mixing Philip K. Dick's original ideas with modern writing and topics, are intriguing because they talk about the future (or an imagined present) in a way applicable to modern concerns. Whereas BM tends to deal specifically with how technology affects humanity, ED has more leeway to insert fantasy or sci-fantasy without always relying on technology.

Placed next to Black Mirror, Electric Dreams is promising, less novel and not yet as punchy. BM has built a tradition of subversiveness. Its plot tends to be denser, with the promise that at every step everything we know about the story will be challenged.

Electric Dreams is tamer, slower, but not less poignant. Like BM, most stories in Electric Dreams end up in unpleasant or bitter-sweet ways, and its worlds are variations on dystopia. I'd say its themes and negative bias are cliches, but dystopia is both a space for manifested fears and a playground to imagine ways to fix it.

The future is indeed here, just unevenly distributed. There may be no revelation in this first season, but the package is attractive, entertaining, and can foster discussions about present questions: privacy, authoritarianism, class tension, empathy, the human condition and consciousness.

You wake up on a traveling ship, and someone asks you to bring them a book. The book won't reveal any essential secrets about the world of Eastshade, and may seem more of a random idea to introduce the game. The task completed, the ship hits a reef and the adventure begins.

The scene is close to a microcosm for Eastshade: a simple goal, a linear path, a character which you do not get to know, a lack of grander context and characterization. The brief intro is welcome and intentional, and Eastshade maintains its brevity throughout, rarely delving into complex lore.

But the adventure is mesmerizing because games like Eastshade - peaceful, non-violent - rarely stand on complex design. Instead, they create worlds of fairytale beauty and contemplative exploration built on simplicity and minimalism. To be appreciated, Eastshade must be accepted on its own terms - not simply as game meant to stimulate adrenalin or provide achievements, but an invitation to lose yourself in a world built on innocence.

Wholesome level: Great. Eastshade begins with a sad premise but progresses to a playground of wholesomeness and dreamy wandering.

For all its gleefulness, Eastshade begins with a sad story: the protagonist's mother has passed away, and your task is to cherish her legacy by painting her favorite places around the island.

This sad premise goes against most of the game's plot as a relaxation sim, but imbues Eastshade with dimension and humanity. Sad in the beginning, but turning hopeful by fulfilling the request of a loved one.

Another glitch in the peaceful road is an early encounter which may posit that a kid is in danger of jumping off a building with no safety. The game plays the event for a laugh, but the implications are best avoided in a fairytale like Eastshade.

Space for contemplation

To reach the states Eastshade wants - rest, joy, contemplation - you need a low-stress environment and a topic of high-engagement, something you love. Eastshade follows its friendly approach to joy thematically and gameplay-wise, balancing a beautiful open-world with simple mechanics and basic simulation and crafting elements.

The game provides most of this environment, but sometimes it works against itself through an uneven difficulty: the world opens up gradually until you complete certain tasks, fast-travel takes a while to unlock, and there's no objective markers to help the player.

Most quests follow along with simpler themes: some people want you to paint various natural elements, a baker is in love and needs help to confess to her crush; a balloon owner gets no business because people don't know about her venture (though her huge balloon awaits next to the biggest city.)

Alongside the stress created by difficulty, another hurdle is the explicit effort to not expand the world and its lore. Eastshade is a memorable game, but unlike other cult classics, it's mostly so while playing. The cause is easy to grasp: the lack of in-depth characterization and worldbuilding.

The world is gorgeous, beautiful to look at, but without more support from writing it seems insubstantial, as if the illusion is meant to be forgotten when the adventure stops. This is not a "hard" critique for the game - plenty of good games lack complex characterization, casual ones more so - but a desire to know more about Eastshade, about its world and culture.

Because of its simplicity, Eastshade can be less memorable than other indie cult games. Firewatch, for example, another peaceful indie, shares Eastshade's simplicity in design. Firewatch's tone and themes are dramatic, but its short-lived mystery shines thanks to stellar writing (and perpetual paranoia).

As a standard bonus for nonviolent games, Eastshade's peaceful approach to questing makes it friendly to beginners. There's no difficulty gatekeeping in solving quests, apart from how much the player chooses to explore and complete. Progression avoids grinding by skipping skills, instead relying on exploration and completing quests (a fair amount of fetchy ones, but expected with minimalist quest design.

Eastshade reminds me of Skyrim like this: lore bits are spread throughout, but not enough to shape a substantial world. Peppering worldbuilding everywhere is the right way, but here Eastshade should provide more density.

Questing peacefully

Even so, there are honest efforts to expand the world.

One adventure involves consuming dream-inducing drugs - well, tea. This sort of quest creates dimension - its plot lingers for a while, requiring a bit of investigation, time to take in the world and be excited for what we'll discover.

The premise of the quest is intriguing because it involves competing factions, which in turn give the world personality. No major revelations are found at the conclusion, but Eastshade would've benefited by playing with more quests grander in scope, stretching across the story.

***

We get an immersive physical way to define ourselves in Eastshade via painting. Beyond quest goals, what you choose to paint speaks about your sensibilities.

I love this type of activity in games - painting, photography - because it's easy to understand, requires no complex mechanics, and is an accessible way for self-expression. Better, Eastshades integrates painting in quests and gameplay to encourage exploration by rewarding inspiration.

Like most open-world games, Eastshade is at its best not in the beginning, not toward the end, but in the mid-game. When you explore and complete tasks not to gain achievements but to know the world, when you retreat for the night or wander and stop to enjoy the beauty of the sunset, here Eastshade reveals itself most naturally.

These are the moments which define the protagonist not necessarily as hero but as a natural part of the world. Exploring in this more organic way helps to mitigate Eastshade's lack of in-depth lore because it creates a natural link between explorer and cosmos.

Many games with potential for contemplation and meditation miss this nigh-essential feat. Bethesda games, for example, have bare mechanics for encouraging wanderlust, getting lost in the beauty of their landscape.

Their Fallout games fair better because they offer experience for discovering new places, but The Elder Scrolls has no mechanics to encourage slowing down to contemplate beauty, even with the risk of needless gamification.

Eastshade supports this search for contemplation, meditation, wandering by offering "experience" - inspiration as resource for paintings - for discovering interesting locations or completing tasks. It's a naturalist means to support wanderlust.

Even so, I wish it would encourage contemplation more - for example, be inspired simply by watching the sunrise, sunset, or horizon. More lateral design and systemic, gameplay-driven means to gain experience.

*

But Eastshade's friendly spirit makes it easier to accept its shortcomings. Open-world games which take themselves seriously must support their cosmos with a plethora of worldbuilding, otherwise they unintentionally become theme-parks instead of natural spaces.

Eastshade makes its lack of worldbuilding easier to overlook - there's no complex politics or impending doom, what you see is what you get in a simpler way than action games, including other wandering sims.

The intrigue gets better after about half-way, when you have to play detective. As with the aforementioned "dream cult", the investigation stands out because it requires deductive work, and helps make Eastshade a world where intrigue happens naturally.

This is where storytelling is at a strong point, regardless of medium and genre, thanks to interconnected elements and characters which create a living world. Fans of TES: Oblivion who remember the quest Whodunit? will appreciate this increase in narrative complexity. Eastshade, like Oblivion, would have been better with more such quests.

In brief comparison, another so-called walking sim such as Skyrim has the advantage of a bigger world, a hefty amount of hand-crafted quests and the ability to roam freely, potentially forever. But these are different kinds of "walking sims": one focused on perpetual adventure and stimulation, the other meant to induce relaxation and joy.

Skyrim is memorable partly due to sheer size - there's more of everything, a greater chance to find a stimulating experience. Eastshade may be seen as Skyrim in miniature - open-world, quirky characters and quests, basic sim elements, minus the violence.

Eastshade also has the advantage of peacefulness, a focus on empathy and offering help. In standard open-world adventures violence plays a pivotal role, while Eastshade thrives on wholesomeness.

Not wanting to say goodbye

Games like Eastshade cannot be judged by their standard limitations alone. Their purpose is not to be engaging mechanically or to impress with dramatic stories, but to explore peaceful worlds of perpetual respite.

Even so, I wish Eastshade could grow in scope: to have a more substantial world, more complex characters and narrative design. I cannot shake the feeling of wanting more from it precisely because it accomplishes its purpose well.

When the main goal is done and it's time to leave Eastshade, you feel joy, nostalgia, and a longing for complexity - at the least, the need to spend more time in its world, to know more about its people and culture. Like Skyrim, disappointment with Eastshade is a desire for more, not always in terms of content, but in terms of storytelling.

To keep the impression of a perpetual vacation requires a serene balance of themes and worldbuilding. If Eastshade would get a sequel, I'd hope it grows in complexity, but I would not fault it if it does not.

Its purpose is not to provide action thrills, but to inspire and relax - and for a few hours of wandering, it does it with glee.

Game design lessons

• Simplicity

Part "genre" (peaceful exploration game), part limited resources, Eastshade puts its resources where they matter. Open-world map with limited scope, no skills, simple dialogue, mostly simple quests, a welcome painting mechanic. I do hope a sequel / spinoff works with more complex narrative design, though.

• Painting

Artistic endeavor and gameplay goal. You can paint anywhere you wish. Some paintings are needed to advance quests and some will earn a pretty glowstone (currency, money, cash).

Painting helps characterization and self-expression. Beside completing goals, it's a pleasant way to introduce people to art as diegetic means of taking screenshots.

• Diegetic map

To find your way, you must listen to directions and buy a map. A simple way to increase immersion, physicality and make the player pay attention.

• Visual beauty

Like other open-world games, Eastshade knows the value of beautiful landscapes to encourage exploration and admire the view. Combine this beauty with the painting mechanic for a gameplay motivation to rest and enjoy the world.

• Immersive-Sim lite

Sim elements in Eastshade are simple and effective. Some characters have schedules and move locations depending on player choice. The basic crafting system encourages exploration via resource gathering and making items needed for progression. No skills or experience beyond inspiration for painting.

• A serene soundtrack

It may be trite to praise the soundtrack, but Eastshade is a game with a heavenly arrangement. Violin, strings, flute and others are traditional instruments for fantasy, but rarely do they make such beguiling music as here.

There's a fine line between ambient music which supports exploration and needless audio drama. Eastshade's composer knows to let the world breathe on its own while creating one of the most memorable soundtracks in games.

How to make Eastshade more joyful

Peaceful games should be accessible mechanically. A good degree of difficulty - locked play areas, limited skill use, resources gathering - makes sense to provide impetus for progression, but the focus should stay on supporting relaxation. The more obstacles the game introduces, the bigger the chance for flow to break and stress to take over.

Difficulty works as gameplay mechanic to slow progress and give action meaning, but might alienate players looking for a relaxed trip without constraints.

Eastshade's difficulty is gentle enough, but it can do more to reduce mental load, be friendlier mechanically, reduce time padding, and fit better within a peaceful sim:

• Provide a means for faster travel sooner

• Allow the player to buy necessary items alongside crafting

• Offer more opportunities to gain inspiration

• Allow more ways to complete quests to support player freedom

• Provide an optional objective marker. Yes, some people need it, and it fits Eastshade's philosophy of accessibility.

• Bring a touch of personality. Eastshade has a strong identity, but it often feels insubstantial because of simplistic dialogue. More interesting prose would give its culture a distinct personality and make it more memorable.

• Skip the jumping puzzles. Non-violent games - especially first-person - should avoid platforming sections. Jumping puzzles are better with mechanics such as ledge-grabbing, which Eastshade lacks.

Wolfenstein 2 (TNC) is a game in constant counter-balance.

• Its violence is extreme and sometimes off-putting.

• But the violence is justified thematically, and makes for excellent action gameplay.

• The gameplay is interrupted by drawn-out "exploration" scenes around a submarine.

• But excellent pulp writing keeps momentum.

• The end is a double-edged sword: pricked by corporate blunder but excellent as catharsis and sequel bridge.

Violence and catharsis

Wolf 2 begins with two unsettling pulp scenes.

The first involves killing one of BJ's - the protagonist - friends in a shocking manner. The other is a piece of domestic violence and animal cruelty meant to establish BJ's relationship with his caricature father.

The scenes are poignant, powerful in their pulp intent, but extreme and unnecessary - the story and the hero's motivation function perfectly without them. Detached from the protagonist's purpose, they are shocking for the sake of being shocking, even trite.

But Wolfenstein pulls heartstrings with calculated manipulation. It would commit a sin of style and storytelling to be so obvious with its violence if not for the excellent writing, the self-awareness, the self-referential absurd plot.

Still, Wolf 2 profits from a weak narrative cliche - killing a character dear to the protagonist just as he's about to recover. A dramatic diversion meant to spur BJ on his revenge quest, dare I say pointless and settling for shock value.

*

Unpleasant the scenes may be, they establish the pulp tone of the narrative, the emotional impetus for revenge and justice when dealing with oppression.

It may seem paradoxical, but the solution to enjoying something like Wolfenstein may be reveling in its violence. Revenge placed in the right context may be engaging and cathartic.

In Wolfenstein, visual violence remains shocking and potentially demoralizing. By contrast, when justified, the same violence is the catalyst for moving forward, for seeking justice.

*

It helps that violence against humans can be emotionally-charged and unsettling. BJ speaks violence well while staying rational, and delivers bullet-shaped tirades and revolution-sized counter-arguments.

Games which deal with less personal enemies may lack a strong emotional reason for revenge. Doom has less emotional strength, because its enemies are impersonal demons, more numerous than humanoid soldiers.

Violence against demons is a given and explicit in its evil nature - easily understood, dispassionate, easy to dispatch. Wolfenstein - the one made by Machine Games - carries emotional power because violence is done by humans against humans. The script is pulpy, done with care and panache, spiffy enough to support both violence and emotion.

Narrative quirks

A pity that Wolf's intro sequence feels like a narrative obstacle, blocking agile movement for too long. Like peaceful exploratory scenes, it would work better by being shorter. BJ is confined to a wheelchair, but the mechanical impact of limited mobility is not novel, as it may have been in the previous game.

Afterward, Wolfenstein picks up to become a most precise action game, slowed by drawn-out exploration sequences around the submarine base of operation. The downtime makes sense, but the exploratory escapades reveal rewards which don't always make up for being kept away from action. The exploration works to help connect BJ - and the player - to his friends, but some bog down the brutal-paced action romp. Cutscenes may be skipped and the same feature should be extended to intermission scenes to let the player return to what matters - action.

Thankfully, most can be skipped, unlike the scene toward the end, where BJ must make three correct choices in order to stay alive. Suddenly, Wolf 2 has found its RPG proclivities, and made them tedious. Even though close to the end, the scene is a major flow-breaker, and should have been shorter and linear.

*

Thankfully, The New Colossus scores colossally on action design to make up for its narrative bumps.

• Fighting is fast, precise, with punchy feedback and various abilities to keep momentum.

• Enemy animations react to impact and use stagger states to reflect firepower.

• Guns feel hefty, though the shotgun lacks the impact of a Doom double-barrel.

After Doom Eternal moved action games forward, the only essential feature lacking from Wolf 2 is a similar dash. The game uses its own dash, not inferior, useful in other ways, but missing the impact and the utility of the Doom version. Like Eternal, Wolf 2 balances parameters of speed, impact and reaction to an almost perfect degree, a brutal carousel which remains engaging start to finish.

BJ and his political friends

BJ was always likeable implicitly, thanks to his anti-fascist day job. Wolf 2 ups the humanity by making him caring, obsessive in his freedom-loving ways, a dedicated friend and father, just a bit controversial.

From an impersonal head grimacing when hurt, BJ is now a person. Gentle to his friends, brutal to his enemies, eager to fight Nazis and criticize potential socialist allies with fervor.

The game pulls a simple and effective trick in characterization: BJ is both a specimen Nazis would appreciate, and a dedicated anti-fascist.

His childhood, plagued by the man who abuses his family, gets a pass on pulp principles - extreme, unpleasant, effective. BJ's father is a fascist poster-dad. He could be the final boss in a social and violent encounter in the present game.

Thankfully, BJ has a chance to make amends for his father's fanaticism. The reckoning is half-gameplay half-cutscene and may diminish its emotional impact by passively watching BJ pull the trigger.

*

Ideologically, BJ does not have to like everyone, but sharing the burden of revolution is welcome. His victory doesn't stand alone, but on the shoulders of his friends.

These friends have vivid personalities thanks to glowing pulp prose, making downtime sections easier to bear. TNC tries to be balanced in its approach to human resources.

BJ's friends are a motley band of nationalities, more or less able in body and mind. Not all have time for better character development, but they lend credence that anti-fascist attitudes are widespread regardless of color and nationality.

For extra impact, a soon-to-be ex-Nazi joins the fray from the beginning, and a loud Southern socialist preacher will meet BJ with fighting words. The game's efforts to cover ground for ethnicity and factions are successful, if on the nose - or the buttocks in this case, with a particular sex scene.

BJ's comrades are experts in different fields, but the devs wouldn't translate their knowledge in gameplay. This leads to a quirky mechanic where BJ - and the player - manually decode Enigma messages to locate enemy commanders. The minigame is tedious, doesn't make sense character-wise, and should be an enigma itself.

*

One scene works to give Blazkowicz more contrast, complexity.

BJ meets a gang of socialist freedom fighters, and doesn't waste time to accuse them of inaction, though they're doing plenty when the verbal sparing ensues. His freedom-loving patriotism is more flavor, though, a bit of bravado. At the end of the tirade, both are fighting for freedom.

The script has a lot to discuss: about how Americans might have given up on the ideal of freedom, how some welcomed the oppressors. About how Nazis prefer certain skin colors to others, and how BJ himself is a fine specimen, social differences aside.

While BJ and the preacher are arguing about civil rights and revolution, someone is playing nostalgic Jazz, the backdrop for steamy banter between a socialist - preacher nonetheless - and BJ's more traditionalist view.

The scene works, if a bit obvious. Jazz in crescendo, bullets flying back and forth, and the noise of ideology. In this corner, socialism, claiming the original revolution but a bit tired, in danger of giving up. In the opposite, BJ's relentless will to fight, arguing for the draft, calling the preacher and his group degenerate moonshiners to top it off.

The scene tries to symbolize the luxury of debate while other people never had it, but the point is faint: BJ and the socialists are both fighting with fervor. They've not given up, so their sparing is surface-level, tension release, oozing pulp flavor and excellent fighting words.

For now, they'll ignore ideology, argue in good faith, and fight side by side. Hopefully, when the war is over, those differences won't drive them against each other.

Violence and style

Wolfenstein was never apologetic or controversial in how it integrates politics and violence. The Germans had given up or became complacent, and TNC plays with a timeline where Americans enjoy the same conundrum. Part of the critique is America renouncing its ideal of freedom, though it can be difficult not to when the enemy has used nukes. There's the obvious stench of collaboration, with the Klan being prime Nazi allies, scolded for not speaking German.

Tarantino fans will feel at home in TNC. Like his writing, the dialogue is a masterful combo of pulp and naturalist but piercing words, spitfire quotable liners sharpened with brevity. Characters deliver quips and battle cries that make cutscenes and dialogue enjoyable, un-skipable.

To be fair, some humor in modern Wolfenstein is heavy-handed. But it's calculated, interplayed with emotional scenes. Wolfenstein knows what it's made of: pulp violence, tempered crude humor, idealism laced with romance. The script is absurd and naturalist at the same time, knowing where to tap the thematic break.

Alongside the precise action, I appreciate the heavy use of poetic license. BJ will take liberties with his monologues, delivering nostalgic and saddened lines in praise of Caroline. More poetry, sometimes punctured by lack of hope, than Hollywood prose.

Wolf 2 is a modern game in terms of writing: it uses modern language, but without sacrificing vernacular. Meaning, most characters are easy to distinguish via their language. The dialogue is functional, it delivers plot, but remains interesting, intriguing thanks to its playfulness.

The corporate revolution will be streamed

Ironically, the game's ending is pricked by corporate greed. After dealing with one major antagonist, the anti-fascist dream team delivers their speech in one of the most intriguing moments of the story. The speech is good, the timing is perfect, the pay-off is worth it. In the worst moment possible, Bethesda decided to interject their name during the speech, presumably to prove their support for the anti-fascist cause.

But this diminishes the importance and impact of the moment, which should be free of corporate branding. In Nazi America, the revolution is televised - or at least it starts that way - and the suits are there to prove how righteous the corporation is.

Instead of letting the moment, the payoff and the speech run their course and breathe on their own, we have to put up with corporate logos and be reminded how everything is for sale. The revolution is supposed to be a liberation movement of the people. If the corporation would have self-awareness, it would stay away from branding its name on something that should be free of greed.

Game design lessons

The joy of movement

BJ might start the story in a wheelchair, but he'll soon gain the gift of movement, alongside the gift of gab. BJ's movement is only good enough. There are no revelatory movements, as Doom Eternal's combination of speed and dash, but enough for what BJ needs. BJ uses dash to blast through enemies and weak walls, but it should be augmented with a proper straight movement in every direction.

Action is better with akimbo

You can dual-wield any weapon in Wolf 2. The mechanic is seamless and natural, as if action games have done it thousands of times before.

Games tend to avoid akimbo because of the difficulty imbalance and making each weapon function properly as a pair.

Wolfenstein 2 wears two weapons on its sleeves to deliver dual-mounted justice like the best retro... 80s and 90s action movies.

Wolfenstein looks pretty in pulp

The story and writing in Wolf 2 are serious and peppered with playful language and poignant events. Action games may be the last to need fine-tuned pulp writing and emotion, but Machine Games is a studio which cares about prose. Some peaceful intermission sections may be drawn out, but excellent writing keeps them afloat.

How to improve Wolfenstein 2

For its pulp action bent, Wolf 2 is an almost perfect game. If not for the following quirks, it would be a finely-tuned classic, relative to its genre and scope.

Skip the enigma minigame

The match-two minigame needed to play extra missions is tedious. BJ has friends aplenty to decode the locations for new mission - no wonder none wants to play this bore fest.

Less talking, more stomping

I appreciate the effort put into Wolfenstein's script and care for dialogue. A few story and downtime exploration scenes overstay their welcome, though hey fit thematically. Wolf 2 excels as an action romp, and I cared less for BJ's wandering around the submarine. For Wolfenstein 3, please make downtime exploration scenes shorter or skippable.

Shorten the court scene

No, dream or hallucinatory sequences which trick the player but don't matter otherwise are not good narrative design. Make a point of crushing the player's hope by integrating the theme into the proper narrative. Don't waste time with a prolonged and disingenuous action scene only to laugh in the player's face and pad the game - it makes for lazy game design.

Like all hybrid romps, The Great Circle carries the sweetness of choice, the joy of knowing objectives may be open to stealth, thievery, exploration.

The intro is mild, unless you're sweet on the vintage movies. Even so, gameplay is sparse, lacking the choice of the adventure proper.

Fitting how TGC respects its adventure DNA and the first real gameplay involves gathering artifacts and conducting an investigation. Not revolutionary, but a welcome intro to the game's open-ended influences.

An Indy title could have slipped between bland adventure or tedious action, but TGC is inspired and takes lessons from any fitting source:

• Exploration and finding secrets from hybrids and adventures

• Puzzles, mostly easy to solve to keep momentum

• Simple melee combat and shooting action, built on Machine Games' excellent experience.

The Great Circle's hybrid gameplay is not as evolved as full-metal Immersive Sims - Deus Ex, Prey and their ilk - but a lightweight version of action, stealth and exploration designed on brevity.

An Indy of few words

The script is less punchy than Machine Games' previous fight with the Nazis in Wolfenstein 2, but anyone wandering in from the movies - the good, vintage ones - will enjoy it. It's lighter thematically, not stylistically. The Nazis are the enemy in both games, but while Wolf 2 shines with pulpy quips about ideology and social issues, TGC is simpler - Nazis haven't occupied America and dealing with them is just as straightforward.

Indiana Jones movies are vehicles for adventure romps, for travelling the world and enjoying how Indy escapes deadly traps. His advancement as complex character was never priority, but Machine Games - as with prior titles - has the writing to infuse him with likeability.

There's no attempt to unpack Indy in detail - minus the accusations of him plundering native civilizations - or to make him irrelevant. This is a pure Indiana Jones adventure - globe-trotting, whip-swinging, Nazi-punching.

The change is better justified because Indy was never much of a complex character. As many ludic heroes, he's the means for players to round the world and uncover treasure or cause chaos.

As other protagonists of modern culture, the attitude suits him. His prime concern is uncovering ancient secrets and their potential magic. Everything else - romantic relationships or his teaching career - can wait indefinitely.

Not pushing Indy to be an emotional nice-bloke is the right call, because he's always been more action than explanation. Good writing may or may not have worked to make him more sensitive. We have a clear example in Lara Croft, who's been an equivalent to Indy from her debut.

Making her more sensitive and emotional worked, not without sacrificing part of her original identity. When our heroes need therapy, the change is risky - they have to gain empathy while remaining people of action. Good writing can deliver but not all heroes need be puzzles of parental estrangement and unresolved trauma.

The trials of immersive sims

The Great Circle's immersive sim charm is balanced as all action-stealth hybrids should be, in light amounts. We find less options than in complex hybrids, focused and defined to not detract from Indy's personality as a dashing treasure hunter.

Persuasion was never his strong whip - apart from it, Indy travels with a welcome arsenal of choice: sneaking, alternate routes, secondary goals, simple upgrades, and punching and shooting when the enemy calls for it.

Complex immersive sims use extensive upgrades to bypass various obstacles - Indy's Sim tackle is minimalist, easier to grasp, suited to his style.

His modus operandi is immediate - he often finds what he needs nearby. The design may be simplified for anyone coming over from Deus Ex and the like, but fits a game bent on more traditional adventuring.

Chests are boring, though - Indy often finds their solution nearby, without much deduction involved.

Game design lessons

Minimalist immersive sim

A minimalist upgrade system, easy puzzles, and a linear approach to goals and hubs keep the adventure going.

Indy can choose how he deals with enemies - fists, weapons (lethal or not), stealth. Combat is fast, precise. Unlike in Skyrim, punching is a viable way to defeat enemies in a timely manner.

Weapons, lethal or otherwise

Indy doesn't shy away from shooting, but weapons don't have to kill. You can flip them around and butt enemies in the face, presumably leaving them alive.

A photo camera

Part of the joy of immersive sims is finding alternative uses for items and skills which may be rare in video games.

The camera doesn't add much - it's used to complete objectives - but as a nice bonus, it offers experience when you take pictures of interest points. A pleasant shutterbug diversion with gameplay benefits.

A woman named Karen fishes you out of a river. Beside her campfire, she wants you to find someone, perhaps a friend.

You follow the forest trail into crumbling ruins. Inside, you travel back in time, to a place modeled after ancient Rome and Greece.

Its inhabitants may not "sin" or commit wrongdoings. One such act will trial all to death. You must find a way to return to the present - and you may do it by "sinning" or being patient, exploring and befriending the people.

To be immortal is to sin

One lesson you may get from The Forgotten City (TFC) is "sinning" can be beneficial.

In TFC you go back in time to "sin", if you wish. "Sinning" can be driven by temptation and be a functional mechanic - it keeps the story rolling when you're stuck.

The game makes illicit acts enticing, sometimes explicitly but more because narrative design thrives from experimentation. A clever play on human nature's propensity toward shiny objects.

Patience, exploration and investigation are more fun, though. Stealing or attacking a certain character can move the plot faster, but will take away the joy of discovery, patience, helping people, bringing justice to the guilty, deduction.

TFC builds on the tradition of classic Adventure games, but improves it with lateral design:

• Many goals have more than one solution.

• Dialogue, running, attacking are all viable to progress at different points.

• Time-travel means virtually everyone will complete the story with ease. Though less important, I appreciate how the best ending requires the most patience.

The game is shy of encouraging "failure" - for example, by making stealing "illegal" - but is a prime example of the power of games in using choose-your-own-adventure branching time-bending lateral design.

Sin and its virtues

Should everyone in a city suffer capital punishment for one person's sins?

Probably not, regardless of the gravity of the sin. The Forgotten City begins with this premise and the reasoning will be explained at the end.

TFC teaches illicit acts may be beneficial - at least in terms of narrative design, avoiding death and sheer novelty: a stolen item or piece of info gleaned through lying may help solve a problem.

TFC does impose consequences for faulty behavior - stealing, trespassing, attacking people - but through time-travel the results may be useful.

The game may seem to make the point the end justifies the evil, but the concession works as gameplay mechanic.

• In this ancient city, you can lie, steal, attack people, but the end is not nigh unless you die.

• You can escape death by sprinting and going back in time, then use the acquired information or item to progress.

• The gameplay mechanic becomes part of the philosophical premise - is it justified to condemn others to death knowing - or hoping - you'll save them later?

Enticing and accessible

The kicker with The Forgotten City is in posing pedestrian conundrums - should others be punished for one's sins, what constitutes a sin, how far should one go to prevent mass murder and one's own death - and packing them in an accessible Adventure.

There's no revelatory answer to questions beyond what players decide on their own. But that's because trying to impose answers in a game would be futile for something so volatile as human psychology and behavior.

TFC does try and does it in the best manner possible: the game can be "won" precisely by arguing against the idea of Utopia. More because of admitting how Utopia - at least in practice - requires a form of authoritarianism.

The city of debates

As befit the premise, we find the opportunity for debate with several characters.

We don't find revelations about human nature or about creating utopia, but debates - including Socratic ones - rarely offer revelations because of human propensity to entertain our feelings.

Knowing this but using lateral design, the writing makes some debates useful to progress, sometimes just intellectual exercises, all enticing.

They don't overstay their welcome and their flavor ads the necessary persuasion element to TFC's open-ended design.

A pity the Archeologist background is useless - most quests avoid it and ancient text is often translated without it.

*

We aren't told how utopia works in the world of the "god" which oversees this ancient city. A discussion of utopia would've been interesting, but that's beyond the initial premise.

To be fair, discussing how other entities have achieved utopia - a society described by the "god" as devoid of conflict - would have been useful as argumentation.

But we do get a glimpse of the answer - the all-seeing "god" of the city has a leader of his own. We can assume these "gods" have achieved utopia precisely through a form of strong leadership, perhaps authority bordering on dictatorship.

We can use this line of reasoning to debate against the experiment and to achieve the best ending.

Which is perhaps the proper moral argument: the people of the city will return to the imperfect mortal world where the human experiment continues without "divine" oversight.

Gilded zombies

The game does stumble a bit with its enemies and brief action scenes.

Action parts which require sprinting may be tedious when zombies box you in.

The game offers a convenient weapon for dealing with enemies, but reducing their number and making them easier to avoid would fix the action tedium.

Game design lessons

Narrative lateral design

Some goals in TFC may be solved in multiple ways in the same playthrough.

One session's failure is not permanent - the story continues and some goals are easier to fix with new information.

Open-ended difficulty

As important as lateral design, it's a pleasure to "fail" and be allowed to progress.

The ultimate failure, game-design wise, is dying. Everything else is an opportunity to learn (sometimes while the people of the city are dying).

Debates

The joy of gaining a bit of wisdom, while changing no one's mind. TFC doesn't owe such intellectual pleasures, being an Adventure first, but it could teach RPGs the joy of Socratic debates.

Disco Elysium is for:

• RPG lovers who accept the limitations of set player characters, and won't mind a linear main story.

• Good writing enthusiasts.

• Political animals. And pundits.

• Depressed and hopeful socialists.

• Advanced racists.

Disco Elysium is a bit like ideology. Sickly-sweet, tempting to consume in large bursts, somewhat disappointing after it’s been established.

DE is a promise of untapped possibility, perhaps RPG utopia. Just so, this adventure confuses complexity for choice, yet it may take it all away when least expected.

[Encyclopedia] Disco Elysium is also a game where the “hero” can sprint. Running with its existentialist bent, the game won't mention double-click may be used to sprint. Worse, you can simply press Caps Lock to enable sprint.

*

Like ideology, DE is prone to soft locking. We're giddy about our beliefs, ideas and ideologies. We think they may be easily put in practice, and how they'll achieve utopia, or shy of it. The system is established, we expect utopia to thrive, but society ends up in a soft lock.

It needs fiddling, with no guarantee for a smooth disco ride. We invest time in skills we don't believe in, yet the world and society avoid the perfection we dreamed of.

In Disco Elysium, I was giddy for the possibilities brought by so many skills and checks. But checks come with balances. DE is so adamant about them that it “forced” me to invest in skills I would happily ignore.

*

Sometimes, the investment paid off, though I was not giddy about it. Oftentimes, I would bypass a soft lock to bump into another. Idealist, pragmatist, moderate apologist - ride the political wave.

This attitude makes DE an ambitious, smart, well written ride. But also a piece of design in love with its own complexity. Thank Innocence it's this complexity which saves and makes the adventure worthwhile.

Complexity is Disco's - the game's and partially the music style - strength. I would combine some of its many skills into fewer ones with wider applications. Disco's ambition is commendable, but needs more focus.

Often, it'd make sense more than one skill should contribute to rate of success. DE isolates mental aspects too much. A large number of systems - our skills - is useful if used to support lateral gameplay, to enrich choice, not reduce it as DE often does.

The politics of politics

By choice, I tried to be a moderate. Disco Elysium offered a lesson in dissatisfaction - it wouldn't “let” me complete the political quest due to a failing skill check. An ideological flaw in game design, flirting with artificial difficulty.

My dialogue choices, however, decided I was a socialist, though nothing came of it. Alas, it was a label. Harry and I brought no revolution to Revachol.

Disco gives the impression of the political quests yielding major results. Ideology is no guarantee for utopia, regardless of opinion. I suspect the political quest would also end in dissatisfaction, as ideologies often do.

*

I tried to be a moderate out of pragmatism. Life-wise, extreme opinions alienate people, especially when you're a cop. Like all politics, centrism is derided - then again, it's the only compromise humans seem able to live comfortably with.

The disco detective may try to avoid politics, with various results. The giddy left-wing bent is mocked as the others - to a point where the game may seem cowardly for refusing to stand for its socialist proclivities.

For an RPG, even one with authorial intent, it’s the right call. DE is already lacking in some respects as an RPG - lack of protagonist choice, limited narrative branching, limited skill use.

Ironic how the same failed check kept me from bringing a disco club into existence. I was giddy about mixing disco and centrism, but the game would not relent.

Irony prevailed - I completed the story with unused skill points. A frustrating existential quirk, yet expected - choice paralysis is a common bump in RPGs.

A symbol of revolution

Disco Elysium’s existential stubbornness reigns its depressive setting. Humanity is doing its best to recover from a failed socialist revolution. Unions and corporations ram against each other, some people seem stuck in perpetual poverty, and cops, corrupt or not, try to keep order.

Some places make their own law. The game takes an expected but balanced stance to portraying its factions. Subtle favoritism persists, though the disco attitude is to be lenient if you find a shred of empathy regardless of ideology.

No surprise the “hero” is a cop - DE strives for moderation. Its authorial intent may begin with socialism, but the attitude remains moderate, choice-driven. Centrist. You’re a cop. You can be a fascist, communist, liberal or disco cop, but you have a crumb of choice for your politics. As the past shows, the choice may not count for much.

Harry is the cliche of the self-hating cop subjected to player choice. Kim, his partner, is the game’s first line of defense. His profile image makes him look like a saint and an interrogator - an empathetic cop.

Revacholians may not like cops - Kim doesn’t care, he likes Revachol. He’s reserved, pragmatical, empathetic above all. Harry struggles between ideology and existential dread. Kim does his job with focused professionalism guided by empathy.

*

Most characters begin with a familiar trope, enriched with details to make them complex, often conflictual. The perfect way to write so many people.

Joyce, the “ultra” neo-liberal lady is smart, driven, shy of ruthless. But also gentle, idealistic even. She is a caricature of her beliefs, as everyone else. She believes in a world of capital, markets directed by global entities.

Joyce remains one of the friendliest of Harry’s acquaintances because of her emotional intelligence. But she’s just one side of neoliberalism.

The other is the Sunday Friend, a mysterious mover of moralism and capital. The man is obsessed with cliched talking points on the importance of balanced economics, social order and employment. If let, he would monologue for hours on the essential role of globalist institutions.

Harry tries to educate himself by asking questions. Charles espouses the merits of global capital. Eventually, he offers Harry some attention, not before delivering the bullet points of organizing society like he’s repeated them endless times before.

Coalition Warship Archer is impersonal, a representative of global capital and Moralism. Not so much the entity itself, but its arm.

Conversing with CWA is stimulating. It holds the sweetness of intellectual debate, the pleasure of encyclopedic knowledge and the promise of a better future. But in its intellectualism, global Moralism may be detached from base material reality, where the poor and the working class may live.

*

Measurehead, the ultra-racist caricature, is interesting to listen to. I suspect his knowledge is memorized and repeated to impress, but devoid of substance. He may ramble for hours about racial differences, but likely because he’s otherwise empty.

Measurehead may not be as smart as he presents himself. His obsessions may be driven by trauma or ignorance, but his dedication to the cause of racism and stellar writing make him a fine curiosity, quality entertainment.

Evrart, the union leader, is smart, driven, opportunistic. I had difficulty grasping if he truly cares about his workers, but he plays his best act. Dealing with him is difficult - but a pushy union leader would not achieve much when the corporate mercenary steps in town.

When the deals are done, it’s impossible to like Evrart. He seems to fight equally for his people and to keep his own bottom warm. He tries to take advantage of Harry, mostly to his benefit. Evrart is a shepherd of the working class, with teeth.

The mega rich light-bending guy travels on the back - well, shipping containers - of the working class. He has difficulty communicating or relating to others. He won’t part with his money unless Harry pitches him with an investment proposal.

Harry sees the rich guy as bending light. The difference in net worth is so tremendous that laws of physics might not apply to the mega rich.

At first sight, the working class woman is just there. She’s poor, unassuming, casually browsing books without the energy to engage them at a deeper level. Her husband is missing.

Unsurprisingly, poverty and alcohol have found him. Not in a ditch, but close enough, dead for days without anyone seeming to care. Alone, with meager prospect for a better future, no working class consciousness to provide a community.

I’m disappointed how lack of class consciousness pervades Revachol, but only because it pervades humanity. Throughout the story, Harry finds advice about “doing it for the working class”. There’s no clear benefit for this, of course, except for the player’s moral satisfaction.

*

Harry is human. He meets people who often reflect his own loneliness and fear, seeming stuck in their past or the demon of poverty. Not everyone is so terribly alone, though.

The Hardie Boys may be a mob, but they’re a working gang watching out for each other, and presumably for Revachol.

The mercenaries which “trigger” Harry’s case are ruthless, but would take bullets for each other.

And behold, the cops. A motley band of professionals, vulgar, empathetic, even caring about Harry.

Riding on existentialism, little faith graces Elysium, but its people have found a sort of salvation in each other. They band together in violent or peaceful tribes, they fight the others. But many would rather die than abandon their community.

*

To the end, Disco Elysium may inspire sympathy and confusion.

The perpetrator of the crime we investigate is an old socialist revolutionary. He's avoided society for decades, caught in a past of purpose and community.

The man may be dealing with dementia. He is a relic, by choice, by hubris, or via idealism. He remembers the crimes part of the globalist regime has committed against his comrades.

This man fought and dreamed of a socialist revolution, and for what he perceived to be his peoples’ independence. Idealism, fervor, hubris, potential dementia and mass murder have haunted him for decades.

It’s easy to dismiss him as a decrepit murderer. But the story plays the right emotional strings, a fragile line between idealism and insanity to make him sympathetic. His comrades are gone, he has no love for global capital, so he’s refused integration into modern society.

Like everyone, he is a symbol. He fought for something, he refused to accept the order which killed his comrades, yet he stayed trapped in the past. He thought he’d bring an ounce of justice by shooting a corpo merc, yet nothing changes.

Global capital has won. Revachol is gliding between corporations, unions, cops and the working class, but at least it’s moving forward.

*

The elusive Phasmid may or may not exist. Harry may choose to believe in it or not, to motivate his investigation. If faith or curiosity win, Harry meets the Phasmid while dealing with the old revolutionary.

The old man never - or rarely - saw the Phasmid. He was trapped in his world of revolution, purpose and despair, blind to the magic around him. Harry finds this fragile magical creature through faith or curiosity.

The art of compromise

Less art, more inevitability and necessity.

Disco Elysium is a masterclass of compromise. To progress the main and side-stories, I found no choice but to improve skills I'd otherwise ignore. Especially since I wished some of them were combined for increased ideological and pragmatical efficiency.

But DE is unruly and uncompromising. If you wish to progress, you have a choice - the choice. Compromise and work on skills which don't sound attractive. The choice doesn't bode well for game design. An RPG should know better than to box the player into archetypes and skills.

*

To be fair, DE is part RPG, part Adventure, part harsh lesson in existential anxiety. The design philosophy makes its point: you may pass by understanding the importance of compromise. Its attitude to politics is balanced. Moderate, even. We can call this tame, but it’s the right... choice for an RPG-inspired romp.

I wish there’d be more time and opportunity to make politics matter, but the main story is mostly on-rails. A limit of RPG design, part of the game’s thematic attitude: facts happen without us.

We do our best to influence events, but we’ve no guarantee they’ll end to our satisfaction. We have to be disco about it: pick your skills, invest in your abilities, then let go and roll the dice.

Choice and utopia

A lingering feeling persists while playing and after completing the disco story - nostalgia and disappointment in knowing there is nothing else like DE. Well, apart from Planescape Torment.

Disco Elysium is pervaded by a sickly-sweet existentialism, not hopeful but intriguing; by the interplay of personal tragedy and ideological theater; by a drive for hope and the reminder that saving the world may be impossible.

More so, that saving the world may be a futile endeavor, at least when ignoring long-term consequences and applying brute force methods in the short term.

*

Like society, DE straddles the line between freedom and authority - it tries to offer as much freedom as possible. But its longing for socialism is a desire to achieve a more equal society, while admitting humans themselves make utopia difficult.

The freedom of the RPG, the authority of existentialism and material reality.

Another approach is possible though, more "gentle", attuned to player choice but not utopian.

Fallout New Vegas, for example - the factions and their interactions are mostly played seriously, without the Disco meta commentary. The game lets players deal with factions, see the results of their actions, listen to characters' opinions.

Both approaches work, thanks to stellar writing, a strong vision for what the games are, following said vision from beginning to end by maintaining naturalism.

More interesting, DE’s naturalism is built on surrealism, magic realism, and weird fiction. Some of its world makes sense, relative to ours, while many aspects exist as symbol and metaphor.

*

DE ends with an “inventory” of Harry’s attempt to right himself from alcoholism, and how he approached the case.

The “trial” is welcome as a measure of action and reaction, but the end is abrupt and unsatisfying compared to the running needed to solve the case.

In defense, the choice may be intentional. Disco makes its case for inevitability and authorial vision. No use arguing, except to hope its spiritual successor(s) will be better RPGs.

Hope without revolution

Disco Elysium’s status as modern classic is deserved. Like ideology, hyped and marketed, DE promised more than it delivers, in theory and practice. I want more of it, more of its eagerness to deal with politics, more interplay between its “skills”, more of its ambition.

When the revolution was undone, I was conflicted. DE is a work of art in love with its intellectualism. It commits the sin it accuses others of - endless theorizing and debate - and proposes nothing better in the end.

At the opposite, it's difficult to grasp DE's genius in one play. Its characters, world, and intent show complex facets revealed by investigating. DE bears the signs of trauma, namely the regret over failed revolutions: a genius of expression and intellect which solves nothing in the end.

Its lessons persist, though. Ambition, stellar writing, partial choice, the willingness to engage difficult topics - a lot to deconstruct and teach future RPGs.

I’m still somewhat giddy about Disco Elysium, but hope is now aimed at the future. I hope other games, spiritual successors or not, will learn from its triumphs and shortcomings. Disco Elysium may not have inspired a mainstream revolution, but it’s a step forward.

Disco Elysium gameplay lessons

Ambition.

RPGs must aspire to a plethora of systems - here, skills - for player freedom. Disco Elysium delights in its promise of freedom. It falters by not focusing on more applications for skills, but its alcohol pumping heart is in the right place.

Failure doesn’t have to hurt.

Some “failed” skill checks do not cause strong negative consequences. Sometimes they open options to yield experience, without Harry “winning” the argument.

Politics.

Yes, politics are attractive in games. Just follow the Disco attitude - give the protagonist choice. Deride politics and ideologies if you want, mock everyone equally or let the hero do it. But always give choice.

No needless combat.

An isometric RPG which refuses padding by needless combat scenes. More games should pay attention.

Surrealism.

DE’s world is a meld of magic realism and surrealism - which sometimes are the same. Not everything must have a clear explanation, though nothing in DE is accidental or left to inspiration alone.

The “easy” way to write magic realism and surrealism is to consider what every detail means. Everything in DE can be picked apart and deconstructed for meaning. Surrealism’s advantage stands in having complete freedom with setting, style and themes.

Every element must contribute to characterization. On the easy flipside, play with imagery and symbolism until your elements - as quirky as you want them - achieve characterization and a clear enough meaning.

Core ideas

1. TES 6 must readopt its predecessors’ love for exploration.

2. TES 6 should use greater differences between playstyles, races, classes.

3. The hero should not be boxed into the role of savior.

4. Quests should offer multiple choices, potential multiple endings.

5. The hero should be subject to a basic reputation system. Reputation should affect guilds, locations, quests, people, progression.

6. The main story should branch based on choice.

7. The combat should take inspiration from modern action games for better feedback.

8. The writing should be naturalist, not sound completely like dialogue in our world.

9. Dungeons should not all be linear.

You, you're finally awake. Elsweyr, in a distant land, awaits a wonderful role-playing adventure.

This world stands on intriguing history, extensive mythology, a place where god-like entities mingle in mortal lives, for better or worse.

Its charms are endless - even when you have achieved so much, it feels natural to repeat the adventure, perhaps being the same brave hero or a malevolent assassin.

This could be The Elder Scrolls 6.

The charms of The Elder Scrolls

The charm of The Elder Scrolls is unbridled exploration.

There is nothing else like TES, nothing to rival its sense of exploration and desire to live in its world.

For TES 6 to be great, it must adopt its forefathers’ relentless instinct for exploration.

In abstract, the elements of great exploration are:

• The open-world brimming with locations

• A diversity of biomes

• Interesting quests to provide characterization for the world

• Guiding the player through the world with interesting landmarks

• Minimal hand holding

Regardless of one's opinion of TES, since Morrowind, Bethesda games have consistently achieved most requirements for great trekking. Faulty their their writing or gameplay may be - TES and Fallout are mainstream classics thanks to the relentless pursuit of excellent open-world exploration.

Greater differences between play-styles

Post Morrowind Bethesda games tend to limit player personality.

Most players soon become the same character, often using the same abilities in similar ways.

Linear quests compound the issue by limiting choice, forcing everyone into the same role.

To improve:

• Create greater differences between races: strengths, weaknesses, stats, abilities, traits.

• Differences between races should matter during the game, and potentially diminish during the late-game.

• Make more play-styles viable - let heroes complete quests in multiple ways, depending on their skills.

• Make virtually-useless skills - like speech, pickpocketing, alchemy - more useful. Give players advantages and disadvantages in quests, combat and dialogue based on skill progression.

• Mix a basic skill and reputation system, for different heroes to be accepted or denied in guilds, factions and cities.

• Make skills and spells more useful early on. If a skill or spell is not useful in the early game, most players will ignore it going forward.

Clearer differences between races and skills allow heroes to specialize. Good specialization allows everyone to adventure at their own pace, and complete tasks in multiple ways.

Don't box the player into the role of savior

Stories use the cliche of the chosen one because it provides a clear reason to care about the world. Story-wise, the chosen one gives urgency to the story and a purpose to enjoy the main quest.

The role of savior limits role-playing in three ways:

• In forces everyone into a set role.

• Its urgency works against the freedom of exploration.

• It makes the world revolve around the protagonist.

If TES 6 continues the tradition of the chosen, it should take inspiration from Morrowind and Oblivion.

In Morrowind, the protagonist is the chosen one, but his or her story is treated more gently, more relaxed. The hero has ample time to explore and not hurry along to postpone the apocalypse.

The story does gain urgency eventually, more naturally - the player's need to explore does not immediately fight the hero's job in saving the world.

Oblivion provides my preferred way of treating the theme of the chosen. Here, the protagonist is a hero, but not the ultimate savior.

The hero adventures across the world, accomplishes amazing feats, grows in power, but is not the supreme being to defeat the great evil.

A more relaxed main story with choice

Following from above, the main story could begin in a more relaxed manner, to let the hero explore and avoid the pressure of saving the world.

Morrowind may provide inspiration again. Though the main story will likely deal with saving the realm, the beginning hours should be more relaxed.

Otherwise, the shadow of narrative dissonance will fall upon exploration, breaking immersion and naturalism.

Multiple solutions, multiple endings

Bethesda games have rarely been consistent with complex quests.

Their only RPG - until Starfield - which tried to integrate multiple solutions as a core feature was Fallout 3. Even so, Fallout 3 stumbles in the end because of its creators' need to tell a particular story and make the hero partial to sacrifice.

• Quests provide the means to know the world and its people in more detail, more intimately.

• RPG series cannot survive without hefty worldbuilding.

• Gameplay and exploration can be dull without lore and quests to give the world meaning.

The Elder Scrolls has some of the most expansive and intriguing lore in gaming. Now the lore should support and be supported by quests which offer multiple solutions and perhaps multiple endings.

• Linear quests do not properly support an RPG because they limits the hero’s means to tell personal stories.

• Boxing everyone into the same role turns heroes into copycats, an issue compounded by always having to be the savior of the realm.

• Linear quests and tasks have their place, but as exception to choice and reactivity. They may be used to spice up the world and gameplay, but not to limit the hero into the same playstyle.

To improve quest design:

• Let players solve quests in multiple way.

• Use skills, items or dialogue only for extra options. Let players have advantages or disadvantages depending on skill progression.

• Let players fail quests and continue the story.

• Use different patterns for quests: linear, multiple choice, branching, multiple endings, leading to another quest, time-limited, skill-based, possibility for failure etc.

• Introduce one different ending for each major choice.

Randomized design, procedural generation and AI quest creation may be used to different degrees. But the core principle should remain human-crafted custom-made quests. The three principles should be used to increase complexity and quantity, only to augment human-designed content.

The same principle supports the main story. Let players accomplish or bypass goals through different means, adjust endings based on major choices.

Considering the history of Bethesda, TES 6 will likely deal with another set ending, but this quirk should not affect individual quests.

Tactical combat

Combat in an RPG would be less relevant if not for TES being action-focused.

Combat in TES has improved gradually, with more dynamic movement, and heavier, punchier tactile feedback. Oblivion and Skyrim increased impact when engaging enemies, but combat remains dull because of lack of agile movement.

As always, to improve combat, take inspiration from modern action games:

• Different weapons are better or worse depending on the enemy. Some are ineffective against heavy armor and magic protection.

• Use stagger states after impact.

• Different types of enemies should have different strengths and weaknesses.

• Most enemies will not level with the player.

• Enemies which level will have thresholds, to support the hero's sense of progression.

A basic reputation across the world

For the world to feel alive, it must react to our actions.

A world which does not react is more of a theme-park built for the player's enjoyment.

The design fits some games, but RPGs need by necessity include simulation aspects for a lively world, one that may exist without the hero.

For guilds and factions to make sense, they cannot accept anyone the moment they meet them. Factions should have requirements based on skill or the way the hero has dealt with other factions, characters, quests.

The player should be banned from factions when the situation makes sense. Re-entry should be permitted in some cases, if the offense is not grave. Guild and faction access may depend on the hero’s reputation with a competitor.

Examples of games which make factions into core gameplay are:

• Fallout New Vegas. Major and minor factions, interacting or fighting for the same location. When the protagonist gains a high reputation with a faction, others may become hostile.

• Piranha Bytes games make joining factions their own goals. Faction interaction is often strong and supportive of multiple runs, but the writing often lacks the strength for complex politics.

Simplify where it makes sense

But no more.

RPGs may be simple or complex, devoid of skills and choices, focused on combat or sim gameplay.

As universal rule, we need brevity to focus on consequential design, to discard superfluous or incomplete mechanics. For RPGs, brevity works in short bursts, because we risk removing too many role-playing elements, choice and reactivity.

TES is known for its focus on exploration and simulation features, less for choice and reactivity (though Skyrim has improved world reactivity considerably).

In the name of simplicity, Skyrim made changes which limit role-playing:

• The differences between races are virtually non-existent.

• The guilds will accept anyone, regardless of skill.

• Spell creation does not exist because the designers could not balance it against powerful spells.

• Choice in the main quest is inconsequential.

• Some skills are virtually useless or underdeveloped, like Speech and Pickpocket

TES 6 should avoid simplification for its own sake and use brevity of design to augment its RPG complexity.

Mechanics and abilities should only be removed or simplified if their current state is incomplete or useless.

The focus must be on redesigning a more complex RPG, not on feature removal.

Examples:

• Races should have clear differences between them, for different play-styles. The differences may be reduced during the late-game, or through powerful perks.

• Guilds and factions should be selective. Entry should be permitted based on skills, reputation, or quest choices.

• Reintroduce spell creation. Balance it by adding negative effects on low magic skills, but make the spells effective. Introduce powerful spells the hero may not be able to create, balance them with counter mechanics.

• Use choice and reactivity in the main story. If the quest remains linear, allow the hero to complete tasks in multiple ways.

• Make all skills and play-styles viable. Make Speech options lead to different results and include combat advantages. Make Pickpocket useful to gain powerful items and complete quests. Make most skills usable in dialogue with clear advantages.

Good writing

Video games may be perfect with virtually no writing, as they rely first on gameplay. Even RPGs can eschew good writing by resorting to minimalist functional prose.

But expansive open-world games lack substance without good prose and worldbuilding. Bethesda games rarely excel at writing, the result of a lax attitude toward storytelling and choice.

TES 6 should focus on its heritage of exploration. To support overall depth, it should adapt to the new breed of RPGs like Cyberpunk and Baldur’s Gate which understand the importance of writing and storytelling, and how they sustain immersion.

In-world travel means

Opening the map and teleporting without any consequence is convenient but immersion-breaking. For immersion and convenience, we can combine in-world diegetic travel with interface teleportation.

TES 6 should follow Daggerfall and Morrowind, and combine their travel means for maximum trekking immersion: carriage or giant strider, ship, guild services, recall and location spells.

Add random encounters during fast travel. The encounter may stop the trek or play out as a choose-your-own-adventure based on player character.

Less linear dungeons

The model for linear dungeons was tested in Oblivion, popularized by Skyrim, and became a tedious staple in Fallout 4.

• Basic usability - linear design allows heroes to move conveniently through dungeons, never lose their way and return to the beginning fast.

• Basic design template - linear dungeons made of prefabs are faster to assemble. Depending on how many premade and custom parts we have, devs may fill a large map with dungeons, sometimes bland and repetitive.

The design is efficient for resource use and player convenience, but works against immersion and naturalism. With random and procedural generation, linear dungeons should not be the norm, but a layer of design supporting gameplay and quest diversity.

It makes sense for some dungeons to be linear. It also makes sense to encounter various types of design:

• Single-room

• Labyrinthine

• Multiple entry and exit points

• Dungeons which can be completed in various ways - stealth, magic, diplomacy, puzzle, non-combat means.

• Dungeons where difficulty gradually decreases.

• Dungeons with various puzzles, some easier to solve depending on skills and choices.

When designing dungeons, don't just think in terms of accessibility.

Combine accessibility with organic design, especially for naturally-created spaces.

Make dungeons with multiple entry points, labyrinthine hallways, multiple objectives, well-hidden secrets, multiple bosses, complex puzzles, spaces which can be accessed through different means etc.

Speculation: procedural generation

Two games point to TES 6 using procgen to augment its size: Daggerfall and Starfield.

Procedural generation in Starfield is a hit and miss, because it tried to supplement its 1000 “planets” with repeatable environs. If TES 6 does get us to Hammerfell, it may be a spiritual successor to Daggerfall, and use proc gen to enlarge the map.

Regardless of procedural and AI generation, TES 6 will reign over Starfield thanks to its uninterrupted map, devoid of loading screens between regions.

Looking back to move forward

TES 6 only need to understand its legacy to be the best iteration.

With care and attention to detail, Bethesda has all it needs to surpass every past TES adventure.

Make TES 6 a combination of the best Bethesda games:

• Exploration has been the foundation which carried the series from the beginning.

• Complex quest design has been done in Fallout 3, and to various degrees in all other games.

• Instances of good writing are present in most games - the main quests in Oblivion and Skyrim, the Dark Brotherhood faction, and peppered throughout Morrowind and Fallout 3.

Looking back at Bethesda games, they've all done something that, combined, would result in a classic RPG.

And may the land of The Elder Scrolls suit you, and welcome you freely, outlander.

One page game design document template

1. Name and core concept. What makes your game great, elevator pitch, unique selling points. Genre may be approximate or experimental but your publisher might appreciate a simple and trendy concept.

2. Core gameplay loop. Core systems and gameplay mechanics.

3. Story and major plot points, if applicable.

4. Major abilities, major skill trees where applicable.

5. Mood, tone, aesthetics.

6. Market appeal and target audience. Potential franchise, genre outreach.

7. Sources of inspiration for gameplay and mood. Any media, any genre. Encourage your team to contribute their own inspiration.

8. A game design doc is only as good as the information inside.

9. Formatting is essential. You want people to read and skip to any section fast.

10. Use clear language, short paragraphs, and bullet points. Every system and mechanic will get their own detailed section in specific design documents.

11. Play the game in your mind. Pinpoint what your game excels at. Focus on what inspires you, and inspire your team.

Name and core concept

• Describing your core concept may be difficult in writing, but try to list essential mechanics and mood.

• Explain in one sentence what makes your game amazing.

• Genre may be approximate or experimental but your publisher might appreciate a simple and trendy concept.

Example:

Umbra is a gothic role-playing immersive sim. The player assumes the role of Lucien (Lucienne), a young thief ready to face the world.

Lucien is smart and capable. With ties to both the working class and the elites ruling Umbra, Lucien will make choices which may impact the city for a long time to come.

Core gameplay mechanics and loop

Describe the major moment to moment gameplay mechanics.

• What your player or hero do most of the time.

• Essential and interesting gameplay mechanics.

• How your hero or player solve major obstacles.

This helps communicate what your core gameplay is, and roots out weak gameplay systems. Focus on major gameplay mechanics. Complete game design and parameters will be done in separate detailed documents.

Example:

Lucien travels the five hubs of the city by sprinting, leaping, sliding.

Most enemy and traversal sections may be solved through different means: combat, sneaking, skills, diplomacy, finding new paths through exploration.

All quests and tasks have at least two ways to be solved. All major quests have consequences, mechanical or narrative reactivity.

Experience points are gained for completing tasks, quests, exploration.

Movement is extremely agile. Lucien makes use of architecture and environmental elements to move, leap, slide swiftly across the city.

Combat is fast, precise, deadly.

Lucien's friends may help with various tasks, gifts or perks. Friends may also be avoided.

The main story has multiple endings.

The city's population will react heavily to Lucien's actions. The more violent Lucien is, the more guards, vampire hunters and Inquisition soldiers will appear. The people of Umbra may become more friendly or hostile depending on Lucien's actions.

When not engaging with quests, Lucien may explore the secret-filled city, spend time with friends, play minigames, or get a job. All these activities may influence or begin new quests.

Lucienne can sleep to advance time, after completing the main quest for the day.

Major skill tress

Your hero's major abilities or core gameplay mechanics when dealing with multiple protagonists.

Example:

Lucien may use three major skill tress.

1. Skills.

Standard and special abilities which the player will invest experience points in.

Skills include improvements to speed, life, healing, strength, speech, sneaking.

Skills examples:

• Fortitude. A permanent increase in speed, melee strength, life and healing. Better resistance against melee and standard projectile attacks.

• Streetwise. Increases persuasion and intimidation chances during dialogue. Higher levels confer combat bonuses against weaker enemies.

• Advanced lockpicking. Increases the time locks slide back into place when starting lockpicking. Reduces the number of wrong lock combinations.

2. Vampirism.

A complete skill tree of supranatural powers.

Vampiric powers examples:

• Vampirism: Life, speed and strength increase. Shadow Form replaces jumping - allows leaping over great distances and moving through thin objects. Some characters become friendlier or hostile. Lucien will slowly lose health when exposed to the sun.

• Vampiric charm. Can influence weaker humans and vampires in dialogue. Confers more powerful attacks against weaker humans.

• Teleport. Lucien can teleport behind an enemy. Weaker enemies may be subdued. Stronger enemies can be attacked or ignored.

Lucienne will have the chance to become a vampire soon after the game's intro. Becoming a vampire is optional, and comes with its own features and disadvantages.

3. Perks.

Perks are advantages gained from gameplay, exploration and quests. Some will be secret.

Perk examples:

• Advantages against various types of enemies. Gained after fighting a specific number of enemies.

• Calling an animal companion for help in battle. Gained after petting all the different animal species in the city.

• Increased experience for the day. Gained after spending a night with a companion, or permanent after completing their quest.

Mood, tone, aesthetics

• Describe the way the game and the world feel.

• Mood, atmosphere, aesthetics.

• Make it tactile and sweet, a general impression of what players feel when immersed in your game.

Example:

Umbra is a fantasy gothic city, fearsome and beautiful, grimdark and romantic.

The architecture is a meld of traditional Gothic style mixed with fantasy influences from different eras and regions.

The night sky is often clear, braided with twinkling stars and fluffy rain clouds. Sunsets are beautiful, saturated, inspiring.

Gameplay sequences take place only at night and during the sunset.

Market appeal and target audience

• Your core audience.

• Hone in on who will enjoy your game most, and what your audience expects.

• Not only about pleasing a certain demographic, but knowing where your strengths lie.

Example:

Umbra appeals to fans of:

Complex RPGs and immersive sims.
Choice and reactivity.
Gothic fiction.
Story-driven games.
Agile movement.
Action and stealth games.
Visual novels and dating sims.

Umbra is positioned alongside complex RPGs and immersive sims, action and stealth games, and partially alongside visual novels.

Sources of inspiration

• Include sources of inspiration from all media and genres.

• Encourage your team to seek, play or watch similar media, in gameplay and mood.

• If you have time and resources, ask everyone to make a list of three features they consider essential for the kind of game you're making.

Example:

• Gameplay and movement: Dishonored, Assassin's Creed (series), Spider-Man (series), immersive sims in general, visual novels, fast-paced action games.

• Writing and mood: Legacy of Kain (series), Vampyr, Vampire The Masquerade - Bloodlines, Max Payne, simplified Shakespeare, The Lord of the Rings, lyrical prose, Bram Stoker's Dracula; any mature vampire story; movies such as Dark City and the Harry Potter series.

• Umbra takes inspiration from gothic, romantic and weird fiction in all its forms.

Do I need a game design document?

Yes and no. The consistency of documentation depends on the complexity of your project. The bigger the project, the more detailed documents you may need.

One single doc may become irrelevant, but it can communicate your core vision, mood, and gameplay. A design doc is as useful as the quality of information contained.

Regardless or how much documentation you need, maintain clear communication and stay relevant. Get to the point, focus on major features, format the doc properly to always be easy to read.

What to do if you're not excited for your game?

• If gameplay feels bland, it often lacks good interlocking systems. At the simplest level, think of gameplay as opposing and interlocking systems.

• When you create one mechanic, create another simple one to oppose it. Good gameplay stems from a balanced interplay of interlocking mechanics.

• If narrative - story, plot, quests - feels bland, you can almost always point to lack of characterization. Characterization works on two core principles: relationships and dimensionality.

• Relationships: characters have different relationships with each other (indifference included) and with various ideas.

• Dimensionality: characters occupy a time-space in the past, present, future. Even if they're missing from the past or future, they still have an opinion and relationship with these concepts.

Basic hygiene

• Format your document. You want people to read and skip to any section fast. Use clear language, short paragraphs, and bullet points. In comprehensive design docs, support the writing with relevant visuals: storyboards and core gameplay flow charts.

• Avoid needless bragging. I've seen examples of design docs with a fair amount of bragging about how revolutionary the game is. Though you cannot argue with feelings, bragging won't accomplish much when communicating your vision to your team.

• Play the game in your mind. Pinpoint what your game excels at. Get excited and giddy for the gameplay before it enters production. Focus on what inspires you, and inspire your team.

Core ideas

• Storytelling may be implicit or explicit. Implicit refers to methods where the hero is not told directly what to think. Explicit ways give the hero the meaning of something directly. The hero should not be forced to agree with the meaning.

• Implicit, show-don't-tell information may be more interesting. It gives players and readers a more active role, where they can decide meaning on their own.

• Your world is as important as your characters.

• Friends and companions are just as important. Make them their own characters, do not use them as narrative contraptions.

• Combine any type of media and genre which suits your game.

• Make the hero's home a place to rest, to spend time with companions, to enjoy visiting. The home may be part of quests. It may act as contrast to the more active parts of the adventure.

• Use different kinds of recorded knowledge: written, audio, visual. The contained information may be anywhere between explicit and implicit.

• Sprinkle small lore details everywhere in the story, to achieve complex worldbuilding.

• Systemic, randomized, and procedural design may be used to add variety, choice, and replayability. Do not use them alone. First, fill your world with hand-crafted storytelling focused on quality. Add systemic gameplay to support custom made content.

What's the story?

Every game does not need a story, or a complex, award-winning branch of events. By virtue of the medium, video games can live with simple or non-existent stories.

Stories can augment gameplay and transform games into classics because they make us care about the characters and their world.

Games are great at conjuring their own meta-narrative - chess, Civilization, many others create organic stories while unfolding under the player's control. That said, there's a bunch of ways to enhance storytelling.

Implicit and explicit, show and tell

Players are your friends. You invite your friends over to regale them with your amazing adventures. When you're done, your friends may be astounded. But they'll remind you to maybe invite them along for the ride instead of simply telling about the amazing times you've had.

• Showing is better because it places readers and players into a more active role. Instead of explicitly telling players how to feel, we let dialogue, action and world design do the talking.

• Players become active participants, and decide the meaning of events on their own. In games, let your characters and world design do the work.

• Give players choice in how to deal with characters and events. As good writers, RPG designers should exist in the background, and not force players onto a set path.

Even if you have strong convictions, in RPGs they should be delivered by characters. Couple this with notes, events, world reactivity, and your players are free to decide their own fate.

• Implicit refers to more or less indirect means of characterization: quest endings, world design, general reactivity.

• Explicit means are direct ways to deliver information: character opinion, the game telling the hero how to feel, and standard linear stories.

Complexity from simple systems

At the micro level we have to know what each system does, and how to achieve its purpose with minimal design. At the macro level, all the small systems will interact to achieve complexity.

In writing style, complexity may be done by using a simple structure: short sentences made of simple words.

In narrative design, we get complexity by telling the stories of multiple characters. Each one needs enough time to develop properly, essentially becoming their own sagas. Not every story needs multiple intertwining threads, so this approach is intentional.

In worldbuilding, we combine endless small details, explicit and implicit, to achieve a complex impression of the universe. When characters act, react, and have different opinions on the ideas which define a world, you create a complex cosmos from simple interacting elements.

In game design, we create simple systems with a clear purpose. Different systems grow in complexity, but for a game's vision, we must always know what each system does. To achieve complexity at the macro level, we want to have as many simple systems as possible to interact and affect each other.

Notes galore, in various forms

A cliche, to be sure, but an effective one.

People leaving written or audio diaries everywhere is suspicious, but it works. Notes are a direct, point-blank means of developing the characters and their world. They're explicit - obvious as exposition mechanisms - but effective, especially when other means are costly.

Writers, remember brevity, the universal law of art. No matter how much you'd like to drone on forever, it is imperative you adhere to the tenet of sticking to the point. Short and pulpy does the trick.

The hero’s home

Everyone wants their own shelter to brave the narrative storm. The protagonist's home offers a natural contrast - the urgency of the main story versus the calm enjoyed in their own love nest.

Nothing may happen at home, but it's better if a lot does, though not all at once.

• The hero may simply sleep alone, read, organize his or her artifacts and expensive furniture, or spend time with friends and family.

• Quests may begin or take place at home, though never treat the home as a quest dispenser only.

• The home acts as meta-narrative mechanism - after a long and murky dungeon, you rest away the night while contemplating your new Sword of Flaming Ice.

Your mind wanders with the heroics of the day while dreaming of the dragons of tomorrow. Don't forget the window to a beautiful view and the moody ambient music.

Spend time with friends

In the game.

Friends are not only useful to pass the time. They can tell you stories you haven't enjoyed yourself. Stories that have been, are, and will be.

Visit your friends, tell them your stories, and listen to theirs.

Spend time away from saving the world. Speak with friends about your grand adventures and about the tiny beautiful details which make the world its own character.

• Companions may be mixed with other gameplay systems.

• Companions may follow you along and take advantage of your loot-collecting ability.

• Companions may visit you at home, maybe stay for the night if they're agreeable.

• Companions may agree with you or not. They may influence quests for better or worse.

• Companions should be their own characters. Always treat characters as the heroes of their own story. Avoid using people as narrative contraptions.

• Companions may turn on the hero eventually. They have their own quirks and intentions, which may put them at odds with the hero.

Jokes aside, spend time with friends, both in games and life. Good friends are always inspiring.

Systemic stories

Systemic design ia a somewhat abstract concept, because you cannot always plan or predict its outcome.

Complex systemic interactions results when we combine many simple systems.

In games, these systems are character abilities, gadgets, AI response, world design, and all the ways they interact. Systemic design may be a double-edged sword: it ups gameplay complexity, but it may result in chaotic behavior.

Nonetheless, RPGs benefit from a complex web of interacting systems. The increase in complexity should lead to multiple ways to bypass obstacles, and different outcomes for player action.

In modern times, this may be easier thanks to artificial intelligence. In abstract, systemic gameplay functions the way text and art generators do:

• First, the system is created with a basic set of rules, for a general understanding of player action and effect.

• Second, the design may be trained by itself and with examples of behavior, to understand how humans use different skills in different contexts.

• Third, it may use another layer of "censorship" to decide if positive effects are useful enough, and if negative ones are not breaking the game.

Here lies the paradox of systemic design: the more you plan it, the less free-form it may be, and thus not be systemic at all. Systemic gameplay implies a degree of unpredictable chaos in its design, which must be controlled with pre-set rules.

Examples of systemic gameplay:

• Allow the player to destroy walls and natural formations. The locations must be as free-form as possible.

• Combine player abilities to create new unknown skills. For the chaos element, add a random effect to new abilities.

• Give the player items with chaotic affects, both friendly and negative. To balance usefulness, create a large pool of useful effects and keep the negative ones to a minimum.

• Infuse characters with minor randomized changes in preferences. The changes are more or less unpredictable, making use of personality traits and thresholds. Personality changes may be friendly or hostile to the player, and should be justified depending on the character.

• Create a large pool of random encounters, each with their own randomized parameters. For each rule, make sure the player can deal with encounters in at least two ways.

The caveat: systemic gameplay is a part of randomized design and procedural generation. In most games, it will not replace custom-made hand-crafted content. Randomization, procedural generation and systemic gameplay should be used alongside hand-crafted worlds and design, to add variety, choice, and reactivity.

The eternal return of environmental storytelling

You set out to explore the magical post-apocalyptic world filled with raiders, mutants, cannibals, and cannibal mutant raiders.

What is one of the first features you know you'll find in the fire-bathed wasteland? The skeletons still hanging around after hundreds of years, of course.

The geographic, topographic, natural or man-made cliche of storytelling environs remains strong thanks to its naturalism. The world reacts to natural laws or to human intervention, potentially providing new locations to explore.

As always, there is no escape from naturalism.

Consider:

• What kind of events make sense in your world.

• How much time has passed since the event took place.

• How the landscape has changed.

Skeletons strewn everywhere make sense depending on the context. But not so much when the world is filled with them and raiders refuse to pick their pockets.

As always, environmental storytelling is more or less explicit:

• Natural or man-made formations, intact or not.

• Different types of media which reveal world and character details: audio, visual, written.

• The remains and remnansts of major and minor events: wars, battles, inter-faction conflict, family brawls, angsty sports fans proving their frustration.

Small epiphanies

A "secret" of good storytelling is to not fill any scene with an inordinate amount of details.

Good storytelling and lore rely on diversity of naturalist elements and pacing. To let your writing, your characters and your reader breathe, spread your lore snippets across the story.

• A character that has a strong opinion and can reveal a new facet about the world.

• A controversial event that will not be immediately explained and leaves the hero wondering and seeking information.

• A note, recording or love letter that reveals emotional information about peoples' lives.

Worldbuilding and lore snippets spread out like seeds are small epiphanies. They do not need to be complex or explained immediately.

They are the unsung heroes of lore, details which make the world a character of its own, alive and lived-in.

Ideally, do not crowd scenes and pages with myriad details. Spread, sprinkle and spice worldbuilding details across the story. Let each scene breathe and achieve its aim by avoiding irrelevant details.

Gather your party

There's no adventure without the heroes and their friends. Characters come in all shapes and sizes: humans, creatures of myth, supranatural beings, mysterious eldritch entities, personified natural elements. And just as important, the world.

If you have difficulty distilling what a piece of storytelling - quest or object - should do, remember characterization. If storytelling feels bland, you may almost always point to a core issue: lack of characterization.

To amend, return to core principles: relationships and dimensionality. Consider if the current storytelling scene develops the character's relationships with people and ideas, or their presence in time and space.

Experimental techniques and media

When you design a game, tell stories through every medium and genre that fits your setting and style.

Combine all the above methods and mediums: visual arts, sound, music, mechanical design, writing, cinema, theater, breaking the fourth wall, dialogue, silence.

Here stands a core advantage of games: to combine all forms of expression, to enjoy the strengths of each medium and genre. Implicit or explicit, games can do everything and mix different mediums to various degrees.

Implicit storytelling is more interesting because it lets us distill meaning on our own, and serves our need for discovery.

Treat your players like smart explorers and let them discover and decide meaning without an excess of explicit hand-holding.

Combine any medium needed, more or less explicit, to let players decide the meaning of something on their own.

Love of writing

Enderal understands a core tenet of open-world games: expansive worldbuilding.

Enderal's lore is tremendous, in scope, complexity and sheer exploratory value. The narrative design may struggle with how much information it delivers, but the issue is relaxed by making some lore questions optional.

The main storyline lore can be overwhelming when characters deliver a mandatory batch of information before being allowed to progress.

Enderal's themes tend to be more mature than those found in TES games. A feature which wouldn't count for much, if not for the near-perfect writing.

Enderal's dialogue is the standard mix of Medieval-inspired language sifted through modern English. It sometimes tries to be too hip and modern, but often delivers some of the most poetic and philosophical dialogue in a game.

Love of exploration

The joy of exploring Enderal is unbounded. The world is crafted with love, attention to detail and avoiding repetition.

To be fair, Enderal's world may not seem special when compared to The Elder Scrolls games. Except Enderal banks on quality and a focused diversity of biomes. TES games insist on quantity, often ending in the trap of repetitive dungeons.

Enderal is built on quality over quantity.

Even so, its world is expansive, both as play-space and as a living cosmos sustained by worldbuilding. The land is interesting to explore and enticing to live in.

If anything, I wish Enderal would have lasted for many more adventures. Buying a house in Enderal is less justified for immersion, but I wish I would feel otherwise, for the story to last for much longer and not fall so quickly into the urgency cliche.

Love for storytelling

Narrative design-wise, Enderal should have opted for more choice in dealing with its quest and apocalypse.

The linearity may be justified for some storylines, but works against the freedom needed in an RPG. Some quests make the mistake of keeping the protagonist onto a set path, even while having an underdeveloped Rhetoric skill.

Enderal wraps the main story into a somewhat depressing adventure of impending apocalypse and determinism. The modern or post-modern approach to the cliche of the chosen one having to defend the world from doom is predictable.

The protagonist is partly a cliche, a chosen one meant for a specific purpose within the apocalyptic story.

Tis no wonder of how the ending can be bittersweet at best and depressing at worst. But the story is treated with great writing and a skillful deconstruction of the aforementioned cliches.

How to improve Enderal

When Playing Enderal, I remind myself the temptation to be disappointed with something may be proportional to how much I love it.

It's easy to be disappointed in Enderal, only because of how ambitious and well-crafted it is, how well it carries passion on its sleeve.

By being stellar in certain areas, I expect the journey to be amazing at every step. When it was not, I tried to understand why it felt underwhelming.

Enderal is an unrefined masterpiece, a relentless example of passion in any medium.

Instead of enumerating all the aspects I found disappointing, I'd rather look forward and consider the ways in which Enderal may be improved.

1. Redesign the long introduction

- Enderal is impressive, yet it begins with a cardinal mistake: the introduction sequence is protracted, it easily takes one hour, mostly forcing the player on a narrative roller-coaster.

- Like some of its characters, I felt ready to give up, wanting to be free of narrative expectations and be allowed to explore the world.

- Long introductions might make sense for narrative purposes. Narrative design is still game design and should combine its story with fun and functionality.

- A long introduction where the player can only move along a set path for an hour is weak game design for an RPG.

- Reduce the introduction by at least half. Let us gain freedom of exploration much earlier. Edit out the intro combat encounters to half or less. Make most of the conversation with Jespar optional.

2. Integrate a combat mod

Enderal does combat somewhat better than Skyrim thanks to a more balanced approach to difficulty.

The movement remains stiff, sometimes more limited than Skyrim, which had a simple Dash ability in the form of a shout.

To make Enderal's combat more engaging and less time-consuming, take inspiration from modern action games:

- Add a dash or dodge ability for better movement and agility, regardless of class.

- Make it available from the start, with stamina consumption.

- Enderal contains a basic roll, but it can take a while to obtain it, only available while sneaking. Its combat use is heavily diminished.

- Introduce enemies that can move or teleport fast around the player, instantly evading some attacks.

- Reduce enemy damage sponging and use more elemental resistances where it makes sense.

- Increase overall combat speed.

3. Make the Rhetoric skill useful from beginning to end

Enderal contains a speech and personality skill in the form of Rhetoric (not Rhetorics), but its usefulness is uneven, often being an afterthought.

More so, many quests lack meaningful choice on the player's part, and will sometimes box the hero onto a set path. This takes away from the choice of playing a diplomat or a streetwise scoundrel, something that would be expected from a game praised as a paragon of RPGs.

Let the hero engage more quests through dialogue alone, or make Rhetoric an integral part of most conversations. The skill has its use in the uneven level-up system, but it can be easily ignored in favor of much more useful skills.

Rhetoric wants to be useful as a systemic mechanic, because it contributes more to improving everything else.

But systemic design must support hand-crafted content, so Rhetoric should be used in conversation for various options - persuasion, lying, intimidation, romance etc.

While at it, balance diegetic sounds. Some dialogue is hard to hear when inside a tavern or near a cursed waterfall. Realism and naturalism are great, but not when I cannot hear what someone is saying.

4. Integrate the perk menu in the user interface

Enderal's perk system achieves what it intends, but its design is frustrating. Every single time the hero levels up, he or she must enter a different game-space and engage with one of the weakest aspects of gaming: pixel-hunting.

Granted, choosing a perk is easier when using the crosshair, but for those of us who prefer a clear screen, having to hunt for specific points in the perk "menu" is unpleasant.

Even with the crosshair visible, the mechanic remains a time-consuming chore. Skyrim did something similar, no less frustrating.

To fix this, move the entire perk menu inside the 2D interface. Skip the pixel-hunting and the frustrating walking around between classes, and let us see the skill trees at a glance.

The perk game-space looks beautiful indeed, and a lot of work must have been done to make it so, but its implementation is an exercise in frustration. Beauty should be supported by user experience.

5. Make skill progression more intuitive

Enderal's level-up and skill progression mechanics do not make much sense. I assume the system was chosen in order to mimic realism, though it fails on all accounts - realism, naturalism, gameplay.

As a passionate reader, I appreciate the intent behind the design - encourage the hero to devour books. Perhaps literally, because the books somehow disappear into nothingness after we read them.

This might be a commentary on how books become useless after we open them, which I don't exactly appreciate.

Gameplay-wise, the mechanic is an example of failure in system design - the player experience is ignored in favor of making a point about books and balancing out their availability.

If needed, the system can be partially maintained. Books can be used to provide extra skill and perk points, while experience should also be gained by simply using your skills.

The hero should not have to roam around constantly for what are virtually the exact same books every time he or she wants to assign skill points.

Skyrim did this better. Improve gameplay and reduce frustration by combining the Elder Scrolls model with the one in Enderal.

6. Do another writing and translation pass

Some of Enderal's writing is stellar, and I say this with all my heart. It was often a pleasure to listen to characters debate various ideas, memories and philosophies, even when I did not have much choice in responding.

But the interface suffers from an incomplete translation pass, and some dialogue seems to have been written by a more novice writer. Or perhaps it's dealing with the same translation issue.

One egregious instance is when a character, of the Sun Temple, keeps repeating the f-word, followed by "sissy". It's not clear what the intent behind this line is, apart from edginess and "realism", but it sounds like something not written by the game's main writer.

Most of Enderal's dialogue is well above that of Skyrim - and above many commercial games - in both quality and themes.

A useful rule of writing is this: every time we feel inclined to include swear words and insults we must double check if they make sense, if they contribute to characterization. Should their only purpose be to make the dialogue edgy, it's time to edit them out.

7. Enderal is an uneven masterpiece

After wandering Enderal, I realized I consider it something that I rarely attribute to video games - Enderal is a work of art. Discussing the issue of authorial intent versus player freedom is beyond the scope of this text.

Making abstraction of that, I realized that while playing a video game I was also taking part in a contemplative exercise on faith, choice, determinism.

I was disappointed with Enderal, but at the same time I wanted it to go on. I wanted to see more of its world, to take part in more of its stories, to have more choice in dealing with its people.

On the flipside, Skyrim has an absurd amount of content, but too much of it feels shallow and must be carefully avoided to enjoy the stories built on quality over quantity.

Enderal is partly disappointing because of how ambitious it is. Because of how much it accomplishes, how it made me want to discover more of it, to live in that world in a way that most games do not achieve.

Ultimately, the one thing that elevates Enderal is passion. Passion for storytelling, for writing, for complex themes and characters.

Passion in video games is often hit and miss. Enderal wears passion on its sleeve. Regardless of faulty design decisions, it is impossible not to be impressed with how much it achieves, how pure it feels in its authorial intent.

Passion cannot be faked, and game design can be improved. Nehrim was also a work of passion.

Even better, Enderal's sequel, direct or spiritual, will have the advantage of learning from past mistakes while carrying the torch of passion forward.

Share your knowledge in the comments.

Quest writing basic template

1. Decide the theme of your quest

2. OR Choose an event or character that fits the setting and theme

3. Shape the plot and characters into relevant themes

4. Create one or more characters that represent your themes - the chosen one, the mentor, the noble friend, the romantic interest (just make sure he/she becomes their own character), the laughably evil wizard etc. Develop them along the way with basic principles: relationships and dimensionality.

5. Give the player choice. Use items and abilities for extra options, dialogue options only, or previous choices.

6. For each major choice, create one relevant ending.

7. Optional: connect quests - decisions and endings in one quest may affect choices in another.

The purpose of quests

The purpose of quests is to provide characterization and spur the player along on adventure and good gameplay.

Both characters and the world - a character of its own - will be developed through the quest, move from simple NPCs to heroes of their own story.

The player's understanding of the world, involved characters and themes will be greater when facing the consequences.

In abstract, think of quests as means to develop the world, the gameplay, and player immersion.

The quest may begin from a joke - perhaps you're bent on subjecting the player to a theme-park less relevant to the setting. If so, rewrite the quest to fit the setting, create an ending relevant to major themes.

Pick a theme for your quest

The standard way to design a quest begins with choosing a theme - falling in love, revenge, honor in the face of adversity, freedom, becoming a self-reliant adult etc.

Ideally, the theme is relevant, treated in a way that fits the setting. When the theme is vastly divergent to the setting, justify the change within the laws of the world. For example, using surrealism, magic realism, weird fiction in a universe already accustomed to them. When complicated, resume the quest to one major theme.

One easy practice is to begin with the ending.

Decide what trial players will face, ideally influenced by choices. Move backward from the end, planting events along the way, shaping the characters to fit the theme and events.

More so, the player will have a choice in dealing with the end. If you want to make a specific point, you can forego choice and use a set ending. This may reduce immersions and player engagement, so the theme must justify it and the player made aware of it, through diegetic means.

Your characters are themes and ideas

If you have difficulty writing characters, remember the obvious: characters represent themes and ideas relevant to the world.

In the beginning was the cliche. Starting characters as archetypes will help you leap over the first writer's block. Ideally, characters will not remain cliches, but will evolve into their own story. A character may remain a cliche if you know you are doing this specifically to make a point.

As with stories, you'll find it easier to start with the end. To make a certain point, write a character's conclusion first, gradually plan previous steps and tie them to a beginning which makes sense for the player.

Create connections between quests

Good characterization, for both people and setting, uses two major principles: relationships and dimensionality.

Relationships are the connections between characters, ideas, locations, events, every world concept. Each character will have something to say about different ideas, which in turn influence other concepts.

Dimensionality is composed of the time and space a character or idea occupies in the past, present, future. A character may not have a past before the story, but will still have an opinion and relationship with what came before.

As means to develop the world, quests use relationships - between characters and between each other. For greater complexity and characterization, quests may influence and be influenced by external decisions.

Do not make the mistake of telegraphing - explicitly telling the player - when a decision will have consequences.
Contrary to modern game design, jostling the player with inane messages about how characters will remember a decision is not good design. Let players discover the consequences of their action on their own.

If needed, partly telegraph a consequence through diegetic means - a character may say it explicitly or an event foreshadows the consequence. Otherwise, don't take away the player's joy and understanding in discovering the conclusions on their own.

Make items and skills useful

Use lateral design and put all resources to use: think of ways character stats, abilities, items may be useful in more than one way.

Modify dialogue and action ques to use available skills, traits, items. When appropriate, make choices yield specific endings and consequences.

If you wish, you may create complex RPGs without using items and abilities in quests.

Simply give the player choice through dialogue, different options that have a clear impact on the quest conclusion.

You don't need myriad dialogue options - two are often enough, as long as they herald different outcomes or means to achieve goals.

Consequences before needless options

Put your resource where they matter. Avoid inconsequential dialogue options and action ques. Reduce the number of options if needed, make the available ones matter with different consequences.

Quests may be simple or complex, as needed, or as you wish them to be. If complexity becomes an obstacle, edit the plot stages to relevant events, those which most evoke the theme.

Use the golden rule: the quest must be engaging for you. You should be the first to find value or fun in going through the story or facing the conclusion.
Choice and reactivity are better than myriad options or plot points that lead to a pre-established ending. Forcing the player onto one ending is no fun.

The essential exception is when dealing with determinist themes, a story about choices that don't matter or yield the same result.

Ideally, the player will understand the theme clearly. Otherwise, offering choice throughout the quest may result in disappointment when faced with a pre-established ending.

A diversity of quest-givers

A quest-giver may be anyone and anything you can think of.

The hero may receive quests, tasks, or clues from a person, a talking object, an otherworldly entity, a dream, by witnessing an event, by random exploration, by reading, from a choice or ending in another quest etc.

If an idea for an adventure is too enticing but you have difficulty beginning the quest, remember the quest-giver may appear in endless shapes and sizes.

Not only is it more interesting when the hero engages with different entities, but said forms of intelligence are themselves facets of worldbuilding. They are natural means of understanding the world, even without explicit means of characterization.

You can avoid violence

In the game.

Violence is engaging at a raw physical level and to focus attention thanks to pumping adrenaline. Thus its prevalence in games.

Thankfully, video games have the unique advantage of choice and reactivity, and can easily avoid violence in the right context.

In RPGs, Immersive Sims, hybrids of all kinds, violence is likely an option, but it should not be the only one. More so, it can be obfuscated, delivered through indirect means: by another character, in non-lethal manner, or as unexpected result.

Your preferences and design quirks may decide that an RPG can be built only on violence. It cannot. Unless the theme of the story and quest are violence, games need choice in accomplishing tasks to be proper RPGs, sims and hybrids.

Players can fail quests

The world will not stop existing simply because the hero does.

Well, when you must stop the impending apocalypse, it does - we're working with a specific theme.

To maintain naturalism, do not force the player onto a set path that leads to "completing" the quest with a satisfying conclusion.

Again, another exception - if determinism haunts your themes, one ending may be enough, and Hero Protagonist will have no choice.

Story endings can be unsatisfying - if we know our choices justify it. More so, you can connect the ending to another quest, or have this ending begin another story, telegraphed or not.

The best reward can be acquired early

One way to entice the hero is to provide an essential reward before the quest has concluded.

A reward may be more than an item: a revelatory plot event, a fun ability, meeting an interesting character. You do not have to wait until the end to reveal the quest's strong point.

It is enough if the denouement - a fancy pulpy word for conclusion - makes sense for the quest, linear or not. Otherwise, the highlight of the story may be found along the way, providing impetus for progression.

Write a quest you enjoy

Nothing works if you don't, and the adventure is not the same without you.

When facing obstacles - lack of story ideas, brevity and complexity, difficult themes - detach from the story and plot, think of the quest as made by someone else.

The quest should be interesting and engaging for you. Play the story in your mind first, subtract tedious elements, add characterization and choice, sprinkle fun as needed, top it with relevant endings.

The quest - and game overall - should be fun, enticing, immersive in your mind, before starting production.

You should be giddy about it, maybe get chills while imagining the amazing adventure you're beginning.

Practice makes perfect quests ✍🏻

1. Decide your theme or start with an interesting event or character

2. Create your characters, archetypes or not

3. Write multiple endings for major choices

4. Only telegraph consequences diegetically

5. Write a quest you enjoy. Get giddy while you're at it.

Core ideas

• Prey is guided by unwavering ambition and love of game design

• Prey strives to give the player freedom from beginning to end

• Prey is a case-study of lateral thinking in game design

• Prey knows the importance of making each item useful from beginning to end

• Prey respects the player's time and avoids bland looter-shooter design

• Prey is more immersive thanks to tactile and visual feedback

• Prey's play-space is a sandbox for player abilities

• Prey has novel enemy design

• Prey's level-up mechanic is intuitive

• Prey allows the player to explore previously visited areas with new abilities

• Prey is a case-study for clean, intuitive functional UI

• Prey understands the importance of believable architecture and world design.

Prey can be improved by:

• Removing the hacking mini-game; or redesigning it to something tactical and removing frustration. See the mini-games in Deus Ex: Mankind Divided.

• Improving movement and physicality. Take inspiration from modern action games.

• Introducing enemies with better elemental resistances.

• Rebalancing the inventory for better tactical play.

Listen to the post.

1. Prey is guided by ambition and love of game design

You wake up on the same day, everyday. Most of what you know is a lie. The horizon-spanning view outside your room is an illusion meant to keep you sedated.

You take part in a strange experiment, then break free of the illusion. You find novel weapons and gadgets, and use them against eldritch creatures which can morph into everyday-use items.

You are living a lie. Reality unfolds into another layer, even stranger. When you think the story has ended, hoping you've made all the right choices, the illusion unfolds again, more terrifying.

The above does not describe a normal day in our lives, but the flow of a masterpiece of game design.

I love RPGs and immersive sims for the promise of freedom, choice, and reactivity.

As all cult classics, Prey is ambitious and smart. In part by virtue of its genre - immersive sims, or hybrids, make freedom a tenet of their design, striving for multiple ways to accomplish most tasks.

Ambition and love may be abstract and difficult to quantify; Prey is a labor of love that makes them obvious with superb world-design, novel enemies and items, and open-ended gameplay.

2. Give the player freedom from beginning to end

Look for a game which understands choice is paramount for RPGs and hybrids, and you'll find Prey. Brave the tutorial and the space station will open into a derelict sandbox, calling to be explored.

Ever so inviting, more than one location may be accessed at most times, objectives may often be accomplished in non-linear order. Items, including powerful weapons and gadgets, can be found early or hours later, depending on how much Morgan explores.

You'll find no complex social interaction system in Prey, yet the game achieves a surprising amount of freedom in dealing with people. Choice in Prey is a matter of mechanical action: we explore the world and use items; we deal with or avoid enemies, and help, avoid or hinder other humans as we see fit.

Justified or not, games will make their characters invincible to ensure the story will always progress. Prey rejects this to its extreme, and allows for the elimination of every character you meet, including January, Morgan's "companion".

So many options may be overwhelming and contribute to choice paralysis. But Prey is memorable because it creates complex systems that respect and reward the player's mental capacities, and the need for exploration and choice.

3. Use lateral design

Look for helpful principles to create more complex worlds, and you'll find design thinking and lateral design. These awesome principles use systems that are useful in more than one way, taking inspiration from areas of design outside of an established genre or medium.

In Prey, some items double as offensive weapons and means for traversing the environment or pacifying mind-controlled humans.

The first memorable weapon-slash-gadget is the Gloo Cannon, a genius item useful for dealing with enemies and traversing the environment. More than a weapon, the Gloo becomes a natural extension of Morgan's physical abilities.

• It can paralyze enemies, blocking movement and abilities.

• It may be used to create new pathways, sometimes to inaccessible areas.

• The Gloo feels intuitive to use. A few minutes at most are needed to be impressed by the gadget and wonder why something similar is not present in more games.

The recycler charge feels just as natural, intuitive, and suspiciously missing from other games. Through lateral design, it may be used as a weapon, or an essential means to extend Morgan's abilities by opening up closed-off areas.

Even chests, this ever-present commodity of video games, can be searched, then picked up and hurled at enemies, with damage depending on Morgan's physical abilities.

Enemies may be defeated in multiple ways: with mind-control abilities, by distracting or incapacitating them, by using different kinds of grenades, stunting or recycling Typhon as materials for neuromod fabrication.

You may sneak around them, with success depending on neuromods. Or you may prove the bigger Typhon - I mean man or woman - with traditional weapons, environment items such as explosive canisters, or offensive abilities, Prey's version of magic.

4. Avoid looter-shooter design

Modern games may think it a virtue to fill the world and inventory with variants of the same weapon. Prey offers items with specific uses, and allows Morgan to focus them further through upgrades.

As other tactical systems, beginning with chess, we are encouraged to understand each item and its optimal use, plus taking care of weapons and not wasting upgrades. A good example of brevity in design, somewhat more lax in Prey, which offers optimal results if Morgan understands the best use for each item.

Weapon kits, limited in number, can be fabricated and found throughout the station. Instead of finding the same variant of an item with bland incremental upgrades, Prey encourages improving each distinct weapon to be useful until the very end.

5. Tactile and visual feedback

Another genius method for Prey to maintain immersion is the visual and "physical" in-game feedback you get when recycling and fabricating items.

The recycler and the fabricator are the primary carriers of this design - physical diegetic items Morgan uses, not just UI menus.

Dismantling and fabricating items could be done through the user interface. Prey's visual diegetic feedback gives the act weight, makes it satisfying by witnessing every step of the creation process.

The Gloo cannon and recycler recharge are part of this focus on tactile feedback.

These may be defining moments for Prey's obsession with freedom:

• Seeing an area you cannot reach and realizing you can climb up or down by using the "natural" ability of the Gloo.

• Recycling enemies and items into material.

• Placing said material into the fabricator and seeing the transformation process in real-time.

You are acting in the game world in a physical manner. The act has weight. All this could have been done through in-game menus, but the devs brought the act to life through clever visual and tactile feedback.

An opportunity has been lost by not applying the same philosophy to upgrading weapons.

Upgrades are done through menu actions, an issue compounded by the lack of visible updates on weapons. Prey should have taken inspiration from Bioshock and change weapon appearance after applying upgrades.

6. Make the game-space a sandbox for player abilities

Prey encourages us to explore.

• The first few regions are relatively open, and can be traversed or avoided in multiple ways.

• The Gloo cannon doubles as a weapon and mobility enhancer. The game does telegraph this and reinforces the mechanic several times, by showing how it has been used to gain access to a higher ground.

• Enemies and regions may be easier or difficult to tackle depending on progression. It is tempting to always venture forth within a new region, but navigating new places may be easier if Morgan returns with new abilities.

• The late-game can be difficult or refreshingly easy depending on how many neuromods and gadgets Morgan has acquired.

Making use of lateral design, the environment may often be traversed in multiple ways: through a direct path, sometimes guarded by Typhon; through hidden pathways, more or less obvious, or by making your own way thanks to neuromods, recycler grenades, and the Gloo cannon.

Morgan's physicality increases once she fabricates the glider propulsion system, allowing for partial flight across the space station. A location may be available now or later, if Morgan feels inspired to float around.

7. Novel enemy design

The smaller enemies in Prey - mimics - can morph into various objects. They might morph in plain sight, during combat, or may wait for Morgan to explore an area without observing it carefully first.

• The creatures look alien and unsettling, as nightmares brought to life, literarily and figuratively.

• Their abilities and design make them perfect candidates for hiding in darkness to execute jump scares.

• A jump scare is a cliche of horror stories, but Prey is a natural... space for them, thanks to enemy appearance and behavior.

The act makes entering dark areas dangerous and frightful, keeping tension high across the story. As with its novel gadgets, I wish more games would use this kind of "malleable" enemy design.

The "final boss" is a natural extension of the Typhon and mimic design:

• The way the creature functions and is introduced makes it more of an eldritch, existentially unsettling horror.

• This apex predator never feels like something completely understandable. Prey did right to not reveal every single secret about its origin.

• More than its comrades, the creature is terrifying at an instinctual level, supported by its introduction: suddenly, while thinking the story is just about done, a sort of cosmic tear opens near the space station.

• The monstrosity will casually surround everything in its grasp. It will block the view to the rest of the universe to instill both awe and dread.

What could be done, even transformed with Typhon abilities, against this ancient mystery that is potentially unkillable and may traverse the cosmos as if strolling through its own backyard. When witnessing its appearance, we may feel trapped both physically and existentially.

Lack of hope is an obvious theme when the story concludes. This apex predator is the visual and gameplay expression of the theme, signaling to Morgan that fighting the Typhon may be impossible in the long-term. Or perhaps without humans becoming more like the Typhon.

8. An intuitive upgrade system

You may become an apex predator, but not directly by attacking. Prey avoids the standard level-up system of experience points, and transforms it into a diegetic in-world mechanic.

The neuromod works as narrative and game-design mechanic - it is not acquired automatically, but found and fabricated during gameplay. Technically, there is no need to attack anything to gain "experience" in Prey, since neuromods are diegetic items in that world.

In other, less creative games, you improve your hacking, speech, sneaking by attacking enemies and applying experience points. Prey only allows upgrades if Morgan finds or fabricates the necessary neuromods.

You may not find innovation in Prey's level-up design, but the system makes sense, is intelligible and naturalist. It encourages exploration and optimal resource use, as materials needed for neuromods may also be used for other items.

Of course, neuromods may be avoided completely, as Morgan can reject the benefits of Typhon magic, ending the story without any enhancements.

9. Freedom to visit past levels

In Prey, you'll explore a hub-based and not completely open world, as with most immersive sims. To compensate, the space station will offer most of itself for exploration, creating objectives across hubs, difficult or easy to attain thanks to new abilities.

Not all objectives have to be completed immediately. The path to a new region becomes easier or more difficult depending on narrative and player progression. Some weapons and gadgets may be acquired sooner or later, in turn influencing pacing.

The freedom to visit past areas is not a mandatory requirement for RPGs and hybrids. Plenty of memorable games have used a pseudo-linear progression design, including Deus Ex and Dishonored.

Prey uses the principle to sustain its world-design and support lateral gameplay.

It makes sense, in most situations, that previous areas could be visited again, especially by using new abilities: greater strength, hacking, repair, or simply by finding an access code or keycard.

10. The importance of architecture and world-design

Look for a world which understands the importance of open-ended level design and naturalist architecture, and you'll find Prey. The world design thrives mechanically and visually, with an environment that is novel, alluring, well-crafted, almost transcending its purpose as a play-space.

The space station feels connected, organic, made with purpose - designed not just by game developers, but by humans creating a habitable living space. In short, the station makes sense as human-centric architecture.

Immersive sims rely on a strong representation of their world, not on abstract level-design. Similar to Dishonored 2 and Mankind Divided, Prey's play-space is a triumph of world and visual design. Navigating its levels is interesting as gameplay, intriguing as visiting a natural world, almost educational.

Some human characters in Prey are more developed than others. Though you may remember them when the story is done, you also remember the space-station itself. Like wanting to know or spend more time with the people on it, I wanted more time to explore the environment.

The design is inspiring, both for the care put into it, and as space to be enjoyed and studied without gameplay objectives. A character of its own.

11. How to improve Prey

Prey's fascinating design is almost faultless. With simple adjustments it would be perfect.

1. First, the obvious: the hacking minigame is its weakest aspect - a bland frustrating imitation of any hacking activity.

The minigame is only meant to introduce an obstacle to bypass, without consideration for making a tactical system the player will enjoy solving. It requires agility when Morgan already has the hacking upgrade.

The minigame should be an opportunity to let players use their mental abilities first. To improve it, skip the bouncing mechanic, let the player reach the target without needing physical agility.

For a great minigame example, try Deus Ex Mankind Divided, another epitome of hybrid design. MD's main hacking mini-game takes inspiration from chess and turn-based games to eschew the need for agility. It relies on planning, environmental awareness, and mental acuity.

2. Movement and physicality. Prey's movement is good, but even upgraded, it feels somewhat stiff. It remains acceptable in terms of realism, but less great for gameplay and mobility.

Improve mobility by slightly increasing the standard move speed, especially with neuromod upgrades. Then, introduce a simple dash mechanic.

Prey has a dash skill attainable through neuromods, but without being allowed to use it freely, movement feels stiff, with the only options to compensate being sprinting and jumping.

A dash ability introduced by the propulsion system would increase agility and enhance traversal and combat encounters.

For anyone doubting the importance of a dash or dodge mechanic, consider how natural it feels and how much it improves movement in Doom Eternal, Sekiro, Dead Cells and others.

With faster movement, less camera sway and a dash ability, Prey would feel more precise and less time consuming when exploring and fighting. And helping people (and Typhon?) who avoid the game for being too difficult.

3. With better movement, we can have faster, deadlier enemies, with more resistances.

Prey could take inspiration from modern games that have done combat better, and introduce enemies that cannot be defeated by filling them with lead.

It often feels absurd on how easy a Typhon can be dispensed with the shotgun or security gun. Enemy movement and perks are already interesting in Prey, but enemies are too vulnerable to standard weapons.

Fix this by adjusting enemy resistances: make them partially or completely immune to certain weapons and elements - immunity to lead, fire, electricity etc.

Prey can be overwhelming in the first half, and easy toward the end. Enemy resistances would contribute to making encounters more tactical. Otherwise, another way to rebalance the difficulty is by making neuromods less prevalent.

Prey's inventory contributes to making encounters easy. Ideally, I would use the grid system inventory of Prey, Deus Ex and others in every RPG and hybrid.

The visual feedback is immediate and intuitive, easy to balance, and makes sense visually, to sustain the game's naturalism (not realism).

For a more tactical game, make the inventory less forgiving.

• By the end of the story, Morgan will have space to carry many weapons, a plethora of gadgets and items.

• After upgrading Morgan's strength and suit, it makes sense she would be able to move around while holding several weapons. This can also reduce difficulty too much.

• To make it more tactical, increase the space needed by weapons. By the end, Morgan will only carry one of each, plus several gadgets and items.

Share your knowledge in the comments.

Game design document basic template

1. Name and genre. Can be approximate or experimental but your publisher may appreciate something simple and trendy.

2. Concise high-concept description.

3. Core game mechanics. Player action, reaction, system purpose.

4. Gameplay flow. Moment to moment, major gameplay loop, essential "obstacle" mechanics and how players can solve them. Should be assisted by storyboarding.

5. Systems, mechanics, categories, parts, and parameters. Every system and mechanic will get their own detailed section in specific design documents. Keep the GDD clean with essential system design.

6. Macro design to mechanics to parameters.

7. Story summary, major plot points.

8. Major sources of inspiration, similar in mood and design. Encourage your team to do their own research for inspiring media.

9. Design philosophy. What the game should achieve, genre demographics, novel features that warrant additional explanation.

10. Basic market research (optional), potential franchise, genre outreach.

11. Add visual elements when absolutely needed, do not crowd the core document.

The core design doc will adapt over time. Agile development applies to both your vision and the GDD.

Describe your amazing vision

• The GDD is the overview of high-concept specifics: how the game plays, how it feels, sources of inspiration, what makes it compelling - your particular and wonderful vision and why it is awesome to play.

• This applies to sharing it - the GDD is one of the main ways to keep your team aware, inspired, focused on the game’s vision. Team input and iteration are mandatory, and the GDD will evolve during production.

• Game systems have their own documents inside a wiki database, while the GDD lets everyone know where the game is heading and the specific mood of its world.

Be ambitious while knowing that your vision may not be translated 1-to-1 to the digital medium. While iterating, give yourself and your team space to adapt and improve on the initial design.

Core features and story / plot points

The GDD holds high-concept details:

• Gameplay mechanics and abilities plus a clear explanation of each one.

• Clear and pulpy detailing of your story and themes, and how they interconnect with gameplay.

• What does your game focus on - genre, type of player, mood, level of accessibility, single or multi player.

Each system, complete narrative span and mission / quest will have their own documents inside the wiki.

• Game systems are explained clearly - not with abstract notions (“The gameplay is awesome”) but a design-based and player-centric justification of how the mechanic contributes to the game’s vision.

• Use sub-sections for each mechanic and category: gameplay, art, writing, world design etc.

• Explain to your team each major concept, their necessity and contribution.

• When updating, provide links in the GDD to every system design doc in the game’s wiki.

Moment to moment gameplay and flow

• Design flowcharts, storyboards and infographics for moment to moment gameplay: how to navigate the world, how to interact, how the UI functions, items, in-game systems.

• Give examples of gameplay flow for major mechanics and common actions. This section will be extensive and detailed in specific system docs, linked to the GDD. Even better, use an app able to auto-update links and references across the wiki.

• Remember - if the gameplay loop appears to be unintelligible, it is better to readapt it from the beginning. We want mechanics to take as few clicks and taps as possible.

• A game mechanic or UI option (menu or gameplay) that takes too many steps is likely poorly thought-out, and should be redesigned for the benefit of the player.

• Project leads must be on the lookout for gameplay flow that is unnecessarily complicated or confusing.

Focus and brevity

The idea leading the project may be amazing, but your ability to communicate must follow along and support it.

• Write a comprehensive table of contents, use an app that can create a table from your document headers.

• Make every bit of information count. Stay on point with high-concept features.

• Explain features and function clearly - what it does, how it works, its purpose and relevancy for player experience and immersion.

• Keep it organized. Communicate simply and effectively, making sure everything is accessible. Though it is a technical document, the GDD should be precise, easy to browse by anyone. Keep language simple, maintain technical brevity when required.

• Go in detail only as much as needed - when describing how major systems work, essential story points, specific gameplay features.

• Use headers and short paragraphs. Let people find newly-added information quickly. Let your team know when a major version is updated. Whether in writing or design, remember the golden rule of brevity.

If someone on your team may not want to read the GDD, it is because:

• Your GDD is inefficient, due to lack of organization, clarity and brevity. Rewrite the doc into smaller, more detailed sections, where necessary.

• They do not agree with your vision for the game. Address the design with your team leads and re-adapt gameplay.

Use images when necessary

• Your detailed wiki may use plenty of images.

• For the core GDD they need to make a specific point.

• Avoid cluttering the document with images.

Depending on your rebellious proclivities, you may wish to keep the mood board separate from the GDD.

Useful visuals in a core document:

• Main in-game user interface

• World map

• One vertical-slice detailed image showing an in-game scene together with the UI

• One vertical-slice detailed image showing all the core visual aspects of the world together for maximum impact

• High-concept flowcharts and storyboards

• A concept of the game’s visual cover

• Your protagonist posing with a gun next to his face - the marketing boys love that stuff.

Let your visual designers channel their inner realist, impressionist, surrealist, romantic, and psychedelic painter.

Inspiration and similar media

• Motivate your team - let them know what other media has features and mood you wish to replicate or improve upon.

• Include video games and absolutely any medium - take inspiration from all the arts and anything outside digital media.

• Consider any craft and form of creation - graphic, visual, user interface design; accessibility options, lateral thinking and design; casual games, educational apps, real-world activities.

One-page game design document / concept document, if needed

If the GDD becomes overwhelming, you can experiment with a one-page doc.

This may not provide space for detailing major mechanics, while core gameplay features, sources of inspiration and essential story will do.

• The OPD is a high-concept, somewhat vague summary of your design components. Depending on project size, you may augment the prose with visual elements - diagrams, design canvases, storyboards.

• The OPD must be as self-contained as possible. Reading it should provide a clear understanding of the game's vision, design philosophy and principles.

• A one-page GDD is easy to maintain and update. If nothing else, it will make you not stray from ever-necessary brevity.

Basic market research

Include an additional section with basic market research:

• Demographic and specific genre, what various people will love about the game

• Comparison with similar titles and what your game does better

• Potential for franchise and expansion packs development.

You may or may not need extensive marketing research, especially when working with the resources and requirements of a large studio and publisher, but your core document is not always the place for this.

Fixing communication issues

Like your game, the GDD becomes a living element, adapting to new ideas.

Before and during production, not everyone will agree with your design philosophy. People have different ideas about what constitutes good art, entertainment, gameplay, and may voice these opinions more or less gracefully.

Your job is to care about your craft and do what's good for the end product - your game - and for the end user - the player.

Regardless of your design philosophy and ambition, remember that it is ultimately the player who needs to experience your creation.

• Keep your design player-centric by understanding how people experience the digital medium, and what elements your game does and does not need.

• When disagreements arise, be open to feedback. Try to understand why a mechanic may not be useful to your game, and if it serves your vision.

• Discuss the game with your team while keeping players in mind, both casual and more specific demographics.

Explain to your team, in clear terms, why a mechanic is or is not necessary, and how it sustains the game's wellbeing. Solve disagreements between your developers by keeping in mind the player, usability, and your core vision.

Tools

When working with an established team, you'll use the tools and database developed specifically for their projects.

One essential feature you'll want is the ability to easily create connections between documents and specific systems.

When working on your own, some apps are more useful and feature-rich than others:

• Word (eh) or Google Docs (yawn). Familiar and reliable. They do the job when needed, while lacking too many features to be used alone.

• Workflowy - or its imitators, is excellent for organizing ideas, though not completely free and uses a proprietary format in its own ecosystem.

• Notion is a favorite among people who need to juggle a complex database, though dealing with similar limitations as Workflowy.

• Obsidian (the wiki-like note-taking app) is free for personal use, and allows for the creation of a connected database through text files and not a proprietary format. You can work on your documents using markdown formatting even without Obsidian. The app includes canvases, useful when needing to separate documents and systems in categories.

Regardless of which tool you prefer, you'll want to use apps that allow mentions and connections between documents. This way, when something changes in one document it can be referenced across the database through tags and links.

Why write a magic scroll called Game design document

You see a wonderful game in your mind. The gameplay is fluid and precise, the seductive mood flows with nostalgic sunsets and foggy nights, the story is timeless, and the writing can stand among the best classic novels.

(The vision is likely brimming with photorealistic textures and an endless field of reflective surfaces. Thankfully, these are superfluous.)

Exploring that world is mesmerizing. Now you must brave the dragon of game development, level up your skills and patience, and reach the treasure called version one-point-o.

You hold the gift of vision, the arsenal of digital tools and production pipelines, and the magic scroll of... design documentation.

• A game design document is useful at conveying the lead vision of your game at a glance. Said vision does not remain engraved in cold stone, but is refined into a beautiful sculpture - flexibility is essential to keep flow and deliver the work.

• The GDD cannot include every single piece of information needed to complete production, but it functions as design base. You are communicating to your team, in clear and sweet terms, the major aspects to make your game something grander than the sum of its parts.

• It may be debatable on how necessary a core document is, especially for large teams and massive projects. The GDD is not meant to detail the game to its component atoms, but to keep everyone focused on the finish line where the fruits of their labor will be made manifest. And playable.

Practice

1. Keep the prose clear and sweet.

2. Focus on core features, mechanics, story, mood and feeling.

3. Motivate your team.

4. Play the game in your mind before starting production.

5. Make sure your leads have a strong vision for the game.

6. Prototype early.

7. Learn from your game and from those of others.

8. You are both developer and player.

9. Keep your design player-centric.

Harvesting turnips is not a revolutionary act, but Gothic 2 has made it so.

The first time I played the Gothic 2 demo, I was awed by the simple act of gathering turnips and exchanging them for payment.

Perhaps a monotonous, inconsequential act, but not to an open-world game, where simple interactions provide downtime and contrast to endless fighting and looting.

I was immersed, living in that world, not being forced to fight or crawl through dungeons. I could relax for a spell, work at a farm, gather turnips and be rewarded for it.

Games made by Piranha Bytes and Bethesda have something essential in common:

• They vie for the same genre - open-world action-RPG

• Their combat is passable but lacking in finesse and precision

• They are not known for stellar writing

• They exude potential that does not become fully realized

• The design philosophy of both studios seems to create something bittersweet: open-ended games with great exploration, while ignoring other aspects that would elevate them beyond the mechanics of exploration.

The RPG revolution was not televised 🐉

Gothic 2 was revolutionary at a time when Western RPGs were failing to create complex simulations and living worlds. Their characters were often static NPCs, staying in one limited area and acting as quest dispensers.

In Morrowind we found an open world brought to life by some of the most intriguing lore in any digital creation ever - but its inhabitants were mostly static, both mechanically and as characters.

Searching for memorable characters in Gothic may be a fruitless endeavor. But its denizens were alive in a manner that eluded most other games.

Sometimes later, Oblivion, made by Bethesda, would be hailed as revolutionary for its open-world and the liveliness of its people.

Except Gothic had achieved this years prior by having schedules for its inhabitants, and by creating one of the most immersive towns in a game ever.

Khorinis is a natural environment that seems built by humans and not just game designers, as interesting to explore and live in as it was in 2002.

Risen extended this to its Harbor Town and the fortress of the Inquisition. Both are evocative examples of organic living spaces.
They feel natural, they provide a place of respite and downtime away from the dangers of the island.

Gothic 2 surpassed what we thought possible at the time, and many modern games. It might have done this because it lacked a bigger frame of reference for immersion.

Its creators didn't have much to compare it to at the time. They only knew they wanted characters that felt like living people.

By contrast, other games throw themselves into the race for bigger worlds, focusing on scale instead of naturalism, while Gothic did well to create a smaller but more detailed play-space.

Risen was an attempt to improve the Gothic formula.

Take what made the series compelling:

• The smaller game-world is more focused and detailed.

• Quests may be completed in multiple ways.

• The freedom and potential for exploration may seem overwhelming but are completely natural. The world opens up slowly and makes it easy to forget we are not visiting a real place.

• The choice and intermixing politics of the three main factions.

• Lively and believable locations.

• The mesmerizing mood of Gothic 2.

Make everything pretty with modern graphics (supporting the mood with contemplative sunsets), and improve the combat with a basic dodge mechanic and more complex enemy resistances and weak points.

Piranha Bytes' design philosophy had returned to its potential - in theory, Risen would be as compelling and revolutionary as Gothic 2.

In practice, Risen carried Gothic's limitations forward:

• The story is once more formulaic, dealing with a great evil that will be defeated by the protagonist.

• The hero is the standard gruff mercenary, with no essential choice for players to become the protagonist.

• The writing is mostly functional, forgettable.

• The story follows the same pattern of virtually complete freedom in its first half, and devolves into a hack-and-slash in the second.

Gothic 3 would repeat some of these mistakes, limited by a lack of focus, wanting to compete with open-world games without the time and resources to do so.

Risen lacked the novelty of Gothic, but not its potential.

Harbor Town is close to achieving the same quality of natural space as Khorinis. At a glance it seems built with the same qualities: it feels self-contained, its people have schedules of work and rest, and plenty of craftsmen keep the city busy and supplied.

What Risen lacks compared to the Gothic games is novelty. Their worlds were revolutionary two decades ago. Risen was inspired to follow their formula, but its design had already been done better in Gothic 2.

Writing and naturalism ✍🏻

The same applies to the islands present in both games. The one in Gothic 2 has somewhat larger spaces where the player can wander without being attacked.

Perhaps being constantly attacked on a dangerous island is realist or naturalist - except this interferes with the design philosophy of RPGs, where downtime away from combat is crucial in making the world feel organic.

I thought the issue was too much combat in Risen, but in practice Gothic 2 feels better at spacing out its encounters and providing downtime, at least for the first half.

Risen was a welcome change in direction and a promising new beginning.

Piranha Bytes seemed to have rediscovered their craft. But their games tend to lack in two major ways:

• The worldbuilding is often forgettable. This may be a lack of good writing, a lack of better integration between worldbuilding and quests, or both.

• The protagonist is often formulaic and bland. The hero's characterization is done through choice and action, but the games make it difficult to feel you are the one accomplishing something, because the hero speaks with his own voice and has a set personality.

The ELEX games wanted to progress by making the hero be part of a community, and giving him a son. Laudable efforts, limited by having a set personality and not allowing enough space for players to embody their own character.

An issue shared with The Witcher 3, from which Elex takes some inspiration. The Witcher games, however, brandish better writing, memorable characters, and tighter integration between lore and quests.

CDPR, the makers of The Witcher and Cyberpunk, have progressed because they understand the importance of writing in creating and sustaining worldbuilding, interesting characters and complex quests.
The design philosophy of Piranha Bytes and CDPR is quite similar, yet only the latter has leveraged writing to forge something memorable.

Where Gothic has remained a cult classic, The Witcher enjoys the adulation of the mainstream market.

To be fair, CDPR has the advantage of extensive marketing - built on the Witcher and Cyberpunk brands - but they know to support this with above-average writing.
Risen and ELEX are honest efforts to carry the Gothic torch forward, yet they still do not understand the importance of writing.

The promise of a new beginning 🌅

I only had patience to complete Risen once. I was pleasantly surprised by the first half of the game, even though there are barely any interesting quests and characters.

Choices become more an more limited as we follow the story. The more I progressed, the less involved I felt, the more I had to push myself to continue and try to care about its world.

This is where both Risen and Gothic 2 shine and fall. Their promise of freedom is strong, mesmerizing, giving the impression that its open-ended design is set in stone and will be followed until the end.

The charm of Piranha Bytes games stands in the beautiful, contemplative design of their worlds, and the promise of choice and reactivity.

Risen is great at building this illusion and maintaining it for the first 10 to 20 hours, at which point it loses focus and devolves into a shallow hack-and-slash.

From the open-ended design, where you roam the island, complete quests in different ways, and choose how fast you wish to progress, Risen transforms into a dungeon crawling slog.

Dungeon crawling has its place, especially in an open-world. When it is mandatory and overtakes the rest of the gameplay, it breaks the promise of freedom essential to open-world games.

Gothic and Risen are both good at gradually introducing the hero into a believable world, where combat is not the only means to gain experience and progress.

Gothic 2 bears the advantage again. Its introduction is friendlier, less focused on combat, allowing the hero to reach proper civilization faster. Risen takes somewhat longer, especially if the player wants to avoid the unfriendly swamp.

Since Gothic 2 is the best at creating a believable world, it's more confident in not having to force the player into a major combat encounter.

Risen tried to follow this design philosophy, but failed partially because of how long it takes to reach its first truly inhabited space.

When harvesting turnips was revolutionary 🌱

By contrast, Risen has the advantage of more than one major "town". Some time after the introduction, the hero may reach the swamp camp of the outlaws, or the two major inhabited spaces of the island - Harbor Town and the fortress of the Inquisition.

More so, on the way to the Harbor, we can stop at a small farm and get proper rest as a mandatory requirement to complete a quest.

This is where we can harvest grain, an objective that harkens back to one of the defining moments of Gothic 2's introduction.

In Risen, you can harvest grain to help an Inquisition novice with his field work, but the interaction does not hold the same charm.

Not because it is out of place, but because Risen does not progress the PB formula enough. Virtual farming is also less novel than it was at the beginning of the century.

Harvesting as part of a quest has been done better in Gothic 2:

• As in Risen, it provides a basic introduction to the world.

• It signals to the player that quests may be completed by other means apart from fighting.

• It is part of a more complex quest that serves the plot and the worldbuilding better.

• Interacting with the environment in peaceful ways brings choice to gameplay and naturalism to worldbuilding.

There hadn't been many games with Gothic's level of interactivity before - some prominent names were Fallout 1 and 2, the Ultima games, and Deus Ex.

Some action games had introduced a better degree of world interactivity, but none had managed to surround the player so naturally, to create a space that felt as a living world.

Harvesting is wonderful when the rest of the game provides contrast with more engaging activities, and integrates lore with narrative design and quests.

Risen fails mostly by not having long-standing consequences for quests. Even faction choice becomes inconsequential. The game will soon avoid their politics and interaction in favor of dungeon-crawling and defeating the great evil.

This issue began with Gothic 3, which was brimming with tedious quests, likely a result of limited development time.

Following Gothic 2, Risen does its best. One story has you uncovering the secrets of an old pirate for his daughter. Another one will have you investigating a murder, and dealing weed to try and rule out the perpetrator.
The consequences for completing these quests are not impactful, yet they stand out in contrast to the more uninspired ones.

The games should focus on these stories and faction politics, and find ways to make their conclusion more impactful.

It may be argued the trials of everyday life become moot when you're facing an extinction-level event, which happens in Risen. Except this hurts the gameplay, where forcing the player onto a set path works against the freedom necessary for a good RPG.

Role-playing is about more than combat 🎭

Freedom away from combat and systems which provide downtime are part of the charm of good open-world games, especially ones made by Bethesda, Piranha Bytes and CDPR.

Downtime is necessary to give the world dimension and personality beyond the immediate stimulation of fighting and looting.

Activities that provide downtime are potentially endless, with varying degrees of immersion and fun:

• Sleeping helps to pass the time, heal and offers the opportunity to progress skills.

• Crafting systems give us the chance for deeper customization and provide downtime experience.

• Completing quests in different ways supports player choice and reactivity.

• More esoteric mechanics - for video games - like meditation or contemplation may be used for downtime and further player characterization.

• Most downtime mechanics and skills must contribute to player improvement, or leveling-up: crafting, talking, spending time with other characters, trading. Even simple walking and exploration should be integrated in the game's upgrade system by offering experience for new discoveries or turning movement into its own skill.

• They need to be viable ways - systemic, narrative and mechanic - for the player to engage with the world, gain experience, and provide downtime away from adrenaline-inducing activities.

Gothic 2 understands this better with its simple prayer mechanic, where certain benefits may be obtained by trading in health points or gold.

This may be a gameplay commodification of a worldbuilding detail, but it adds character to the game by letting the player practice a form of worship. The hero may be religious, have spiritual inclinations or simply use the opportunity to trade his health for treasure.

Risen has renounced this, sadly.

• Gameplay-wise, prayer is easy to replace, with another game mechanic or by using the UI for trade.

• Worship and religion helped support the world's personality, making a lore element tangible and practical, with extra choice for the hero.

• There's a trace of a contemplative mechanic in Risen, where the nameless hero will muse on the fragility of life when talking about a grave. Small details such as this give the world and its people life. But with complete separation from gameplay it is a downgrade from Gothic 2, when it could be used to provide further choice.

Otherwise, Risen shares its meditative quality with Gothic 2, sustained by the wonderful mood, the pastel painting scenery, the music flowing between a relaxed ambient tone and a sad lamentation.

Mood-wise, Gothic 2 and Risen are as strong as ever, a timeless feat which proves you don't need realistic graphics to create a moody believable world.

On one side, the worlds made by Piranha Bytes are memorable through their sheer beauty, beauty not even some modern games can replicate. On the other, their literary more direct characterization has been forgettable.

Piranha Bytes' efforts have also improved here: Gothic and Risen tended to a formulaic mix of fantasy and medieval realism, without the expansive lore of TES or The Witcher.

ELEX followed its ambition admirably, with a novel world that is at once medieval, steampunk and futuristic.

ELEX tried something that most fiction will dare not approach. Yet without better writing it was once again ignored even by people who will otherwise enjoy wandering a world that effortlessly combines futurism with medieval realism.

As with people, world characterization may be explicit or implicit:

• Explicit when details are revealed through specific means, without ambiguity about the meaning of something. Often done through talking, knowledge recorded in books, notes etc.

• Implicit, done through environmental storytelling or behavior. The reader or player understands the meaning of something - for example when witnessing the aftermath of an event or how characters act in different contexts. We can describe the appearance and mood of an environment, revealing information about events and worldbuilding and letting players decide the meaning on their own.

Piranha Bytes games are doing well with implicit storytelling. The disadvantage of environmental storytelling stands in its temporal limitation - not every worldbuilding detail and historical event may be summed in a present consequence.

Implicit and explicit meaning need to constantly support each other. Both contribute to making a complex world and people in equal means, and can feel shallow on their own.

It may be difficult to pinpoint why PB games are forgettable, especially when ELEX is so ambitious with its world. Mostly, it seems to be a lack of interesting characters and a world devoid of complex lore, and the mandatory integration of lore into quests.

Gothic, Risen, ELEX all play with worldbuilding, both implicit and explicit, but never to reach the heights of something like TES, Fallout, The Legacy of Kain, The Witcher.

When people remember games like Fallout or The Witcher, the worldbuilding and the complex characterization are always at the forefront.

The Elder Scrolls games focus on lore and sometimes interesting quests, but less so on the protagonist, where players are often limited in defining themselves as complex characters.

Without other forms of characterization, player expression remains limited, but subject to personal preference. For people who enjoy being the rugged hero, this sparse approach to the protagonist may be enough.

🐉

In all these ways - difficulty, ambition, complex RPG design, rough combat system - Gothic 2 is a very 90s game, and Risen tried to maintain this spirit and improve upon it.

Gothic can be excruciatingly difficult, a detail equally frustrating and a matter of pride - you cannot simply stroll through the world of Gothic without improving your agility, a feat that relies on both patience and attention to detail. But once you do, the system can be rewarding.

You are not progressing just thanks to more health and stronger weapons, but because you pay attention and understand your own abilities and enemy behavior. You are rewarded for being just a bit smarter.

In terms of combat design, Piranha Bytes had created the precursors to the Souls games. Modern games, especially of the action variety, are praised for their movement and brutal but tactical combat systems, for good reason.

Difficulty may seem unfair, but the games rely on precise movement mechanics, on the need to observe enemy behavior and be aware of your own abilities.

Gothic 2 had achieved this, though in a more primitive less graceful way, lacking fluid movement, using a more limited set of skills. The ever-useful dodge or roll or dash mechanics are missing from Gothic 2, though Risen introduced a basic dodge sidestep.

Combat in modern games is often praised, while combat in Gothic 2 was seen as clunky and unrefined because it lacks fluid movement.

The design philosophy is the same, but Gothic suffers because of the less refined and comfortable mechanical implementation.

How to improve the Piranha Bytes formula 🐟

Piranha Bytes games are already doing their best - they could become mainstream classics with a simple attitude and design philosophy adjustment. Unsurprisingly, these recommendations also apply to Bethesda games.

First, hire good dedicated writers. The lack of more interesting dialogue and quest design hurts the games, and should be used to support what is otherwise a world with potential, especially mechanically.

The Elex games have tried to use more extensive worldbuilding, but without better writing and more interesting quests, the games remain formulaic.

The world may be beautiful, ripe for exploration, and provide downtime. Without the proper context - complex worldbuilding integrated into the game, and more mature quests, the illusion and the immersion will fade easily.

The world tends to become a shallow theme-park - as it happens with Bethesda games - or a beautiful cardboard cutout lacking substance.

Regardless of personal opinion about writing, worldbuilding and dialogue can elevate a game to something memorable that transcends its medium.

For examples, look at Bioshock, the Mass Effect series, the Legacy of Kain series, and others, games that have become classics thanks to stellar writing.

Take The Witcher 3 as example, a game which has influenced the ELEX series.

The Witcher's gameplay is not particularly great, nor is it weak. The combat is passable, and the game will sometimes rely on enemies with unjustified resistances and impenetrable health bars.

But The Witcher has some of the best writing in gaming, a modernist grimdark approach to fantasy, partially cliched but functional for what the game needs.

The Witcher is a mainstream classic largely thanks to its writing. Piranha Bytes games are ignored because they lack complex characters and stories, or more exactly bland writing.

This is the one aspect that too many RPGs fail to grasp. They think writing must be as simplistic as possible while ignoring games which have become classics thanks to their literary prowess.

Second, improve the combat system by taking inspiration from modern action games. Movement and combat mechanics have progressed considerably, and are engaging by combining speed, precision, and tactical design.

PB has always had the right idea about combat, and have partially adopted this design in the ELEX games.

Traversing the environment with the excellent jetpack is fun and functional, but the combat needs work to be fluid and engaging. Though better than in past games, the combat remains forgettable.

As always, take inspiration from games that combine fluid movement with tactical elements: Sekiro, Dead Cells, and yes, Doom Eternal and chess.

Create interlocking tactical systems where the player and the enemies have complementary abilities. Study chess, and put the player on the chessboard.

Third, focus on what matters. Do not waste your or the player's time with an empty open-world map. Good action games using a hub-world have proven interesting gameplay is what maintains immersion.

And we had that proof long ago, in the Gothic games - they were exemplary works of focused play-space.

Piranha Bytes does not need to compete with huge open-world games, but focus on what made Gothic great: the detailed world, choice and reactivity, faction politics, natural living spaces, beautiful nostalgic mood.

Piranha Bytes games are for RPG lovers 💘

When the adventure is done, when looking back at how immersive Gothic 2 was, when fighting through disappointment and market ignorance, who are Piranha Bytes games for:

• Fans of open-world action games.

• People who enjoy taking part in inter-faction politics.

• People who want to explore an open-world without extended survival mechanics. There is a survival aspect in PB games because of their difficulty, but without extensive systems like base-building.

• People who are not bothered by forgettable writing and formulaic stories.

• People who enjoy a harsh difficulty system.

Ultimately, the heart of Piranha Bytes has mostly been in the right place.

The future of their games may be questionable, but the studio's design philosophy is now closer to fulfilling its potential than it's ever been.

Their games tend to excel at:

• Exploration

• World immersion

• Choice and reactivity

• Combat

What they need to become classics is inspiration from modern action games and a willingness to tell more mature stories with better writing.

Regardless of potential and market preference, the design philosophy of Gothic and Risen should be celebrated.

Choice and reactivity in games have gained prominence with time, and seem a natural occurrence now. But back then they were more abstract, a strange feature that only obsessive RPG fans may care about.

For Piranha Bytes, they were nothing new. On the contrary, the city of Khorinis felt so natural - functionally and as design philosophy - that it was expected more games would study it and try to emulate a naturalist living environment.

The Gothic games appeared out of nowhere. In a better world, they would gain more than cult status to become models on how to create an immersive world, inhabited by real people.

Though the gaming industry may have forgotten, Gothic 2 was revolutionary. Some of its lessons and immersive design are as valuable now as they were when we were young, and so impressed with its believable world.

Before Oblivion, before The Witcher, before Dark Souls, there was Gothic 2.

Share your knowledge in the comments.

Core ideas

1. Hidden objects games personify good game design at a glance.

2. HOGs achieve a near-perfect balance between simplicity, complexity and accessibility.

3. HOGs can be educational, and have great mood.

Mystery is afoot. A fantasy world needs saving from formulaic evil wizards, or a strange crime case seems unsolvable.

You have been called upon to defeat the evil wizard or uncover the murder mystery and find the perpetrator.

To accomplish this, you will visit dozens of beautifully detailed landscapes or crime scenes, sometimes with a partner - human or otherwise, sometimes aided by a mobile alchemy or forensic kit.

You will step up to the challenge by developing your perception, being patient and... finding an inordinate amount of hidden objects and solving various puzzles.

It’s easy to love hidden object / mystery puzzle games.

When modern games obsess over the platitudes of reflective surfaces and ever-expanding world maps filled with baubles, HOGs / MPGs know how to use simple systems to achieve complexity.

A near perfect trifecta of game design brevity, aesthetic beauty, and accessibility.

Hidden object / mystery puzzle games make every design system count

There is a purity of flow in hidden object games that personifies good game design - and good design in general: complexity achieved through a combination of simple systems, no time waste, easy to understand, knowing where the strengths of the genre lie, gradually improving their design.

More complex video games often put resources in systems that are useless or incidental - an open-world map filled with bland collectibles; skills and gadgets poorly implemented; padding the game with endless combat encounters; borrowing mechanics from popular games without a proper understanding of their own design philosophy.

Due to limited design scope, HOGs have learned to make every game mechanic count, to only use systems that are completely necessary. Rarely is a mechanic wasted or an ability superfluous or incidental.

Each item and skill has a clear use, sometimes to the detriment of logic, but effective at maintaining focus and reducing player confusion.

Not much is needed to improve on this, but complexity can be increased without losing focus.

Consider lateral design:

• Introduce puzzles with more than one solution

• Make items usable in more than one way and in more than one puzzle

• Consider basic RPG mechanics where a puzzle can change in various ways depending on player choice

• Let players make choices throughout the story and show them the results.

Some HOGs are using extra abilities, such as supranatural powers or mobile forensic laboratories in police procedurals.

To maintain focus, new abilities should always be useful to progress the puzzles or story, but without the solution being completely linear.

Hidden object games understand mood

Puzzle games don’t have a lot of space for creating an expansive mood, but nonetheless they manage laudably. The formula is simple and follows the same brevity of design that pervades the genre.

Story scenes - the spaces through which the player travels - are visually interesting, and most are superb, focused on beautiful and detailed landscapes.

The scenes are mostly static, but often look like extravagant paintings, whether romantic, realist, or surrealist.

The design is not minimalist, but visual brevity is used in both a functional way and to keep the player perpetually interested and caught in wanderlust.

HOGs use their limited space properly, by filling every scene with details and making them aesthetically pleasing.

The soundtrack ranges from simple ambient tracks to more complex symphonic arrangements and bombastic crescendos when the “action” calls for them.

Yes, the music is sometimes formulaic, but serves the games’ purpose, as effective as symphonic music in mainstream movies. Ambient music is used to great effect, to augment the romantic or mysterious scenery present in many HOGs.

To improve this: use voice acting for every piece of text, or at least for every instance of dialogue.

HOGs tend to use a functional approach to voice acting, only present for major story points. It would be useful for VA to appear in more instances, including when inspecting items and scenes, and reading written notes.

Hidden object games are educational

Without being specifically educational games, HOGs rely on strong associative gameplay by always having the player search for the next puzzle solution and the correct item to use.

This leads to constant exploration driven by curiosity and a perpetual need for attention to detail, awareness of item use, basic literacy, and a healthy appreciation for mystery and fairytales.

Like most games, HOGs lack major literary value, but by focusing on storytelling, they provide a way to support literacy, and are a gateway and a booster pack for reading.

By being accessible and driven by storytelling, they are great at introducing kids to reading, puzzle solving and a general appreciation for more complex thinking patterns.

Puzzle solving may not have a direct use in our world, but it contributes to keeping the mind working and naturally creating new associations between ideas and concepts, something that’s universally beneficial.

Add the usual abilities needed to properly navigate the games: attention to detail, visual orientation, patience, making connections between concepts, and HOGs become more than just video games to form a perfect basis for educational apps.

And they don’t stop here: by focusing on aesthetics and beautiful scenes, HOGs maintain an appreciation for the visual arts in general.

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To improve: assist with progression and increase complexity by allowing more than one solution to a puzzle.

HOGs tend to employ linear solutions to non explicit puzzles - where an item must be used to accomplish something - but sometimes it makes sense for an item to have more than one use.

Some games have learned this, but instances remain where an item disappears from your inventory mysteriously and without explanation.

To assist people who have difficulty with the English language, provide hints when dealing with more obscure items and concepts. It’s easy to remain stuck when searching for various objects without knowing how they look like or what their use is.

Taking a cue from other games, HOGs should provide a hint system for said obscure items and concepts.

Following their own design philosophy, the hint system would be optional and non-intrusive. It would help with replacing the Skip feature and eliminating the frustration of being stuck and searching for items that the player has no practical, visual or linguistic reference for.

Artificial difficulty is maintained through “losing” items after they have been used in specific contexts - this should be eliminated in favor of progression and maintaining logical consistency.

Generally, if the player thinks an item would work in a certain context, he/she is correct.

Switch the game design to being more player-centric - allow players to engage the puzzles and story in a non-linear way. Even better, all of this can be optional, with separate options in the already present difficulty settings.

Hidden object games focus on mystery and fairy tales

In narrative approach, many HOGs might be seen as soap operas - whether fantasy, mystery, police procedurals, horror.

They are not games involved with politics or heavy philosophical themes, and their writing is purely functional more often than not.

The focus on mystery fits perfectly with a genre where progression is achieved by completing puzzles and clear objectives, and the only downtime is provided by short dialogue sequences and being stuck.

Fairytales have always been great at treating with more universal themes. Though their approach may be considered too traditional for modern times, HOGs use fairytales as templates to create their own accessible stories to great effect.

The games are doing some of their best work in the confines of their established genre, though they could always use a more experimental attitude in writing and narrative.

The best approach would be in both maintaining the focus on fairytales and mystery, while also taking more chances with themes, writing and narrative choice and reactivity.

Let the story breathe a bit and introduce proper downtime by letting the player spend time with characters without having to hurry the story along.

This allows more space for writing complex characters that the player would care about. Downtime and characterization can be sustained by optional reading and visual world-building material and conversations.

Granted, too much of a good thing might hurt the core design philosophy of HOGs, but all of this can be introduced gradually, without losing the focus on puzzle solving.

HOGs don’t need anything extravagant, but they already have a mostly mature player base.
Augmenting them with more complex stories and writing would help elevate a genre that is teeming with potential - educational, narrative, ludic.

Hidden object games are good for both casual and hard-core players

Thanks to the combination of casual gameplay and focus on storytelling and puzzle solving, HOGs are perfect games for both novice and hard-core players.

They achieve this in an almost subliminal way, without making it explicit to the player that the games should be approached in a casual or expert manner.

• Difficulty levels are always present to accommodate everyone, and achievements are included for players who can venture forth without too much help.

• HOGs allow the separate customization of various systems. Their visual language is easy to understand and navigate, though they lack in more specific accessibility needs, like color blindness and keyboard control.

• Puzzles are almost always intuitive and supported by basic hints and a customizable Skip feature.

There may be an associative feeling of cheating and failing with this, but skipping is desirable when dealing with more frustrating puzzles, especially since no one wants to feel that progression has stopped.

To improve: make sure that puzzles are intuitive and not needlessly frustrating to pad the game’s length.

Hidden object games offer bonuses to the player

HOGs know some players want to keep a token of their experience after the story is done, so they perpetuate the healthy habit of offering game content for off-game enjoyment - wallpapers in the form of beautiful scenes, and songs from the soundtrack.

The practice of offering soundtracks for free has extended with time, but it’s still not present in most mainstream games. Ideally, developers could understand that players want to listen to their beautiful soundtrack outside of the game, so they should find an easy way to allow that.

The simplest way for this is to allow free off-game access to music files.
This should be a standard practice for both PC and console games - HOGs are the genre that understands this basic need well.

Image by Nicky from Pixabay