From World in Conflict, update 11: do_Tequila!
Design and propping by me.
By ways of excellent blog RockPaperShotgun I found a delightful post similar to something I wrote about in my thesis.
Or part similar. Rob Hale’s article seems to to take a step back and analyze the whole, while my own is more focused on the composition part. And while my article focuses on strategy game level design, reading Hale’s post I’m convinced that it’s applicable (and even sound) on games using other perspective as well.
I stumbled across a great article on GamaSutra the other day: Defining Boundaries: Creating Credible Obstacles In Games in which Gareth Griffiths discusses boundaries (where you can and cannot move) in games.
This is essentially a mapping problem (a split between what the player expects is possible and what is possible), and I hope to discuss this (as well as the follow up article in which I believe a few faulty conclusions are reached) a bit more thorough in a later post, but as a quick note, I’d like to discuss the topic in relation to RTS design.
From the article:
Gaming technology is incredible. With new hardware advancements, developers are bringing us bigger and more exciting worlds. We often have the opportunity to roam for miles or to actually walk through entire cities, exploring seemingly every nook and cranny.
But what happens when there are areas in the game that developers don’t want us to get to? Usually there is some kind of barrier that halts our progress or, alternately, an element of the story of the game which explains our inability to continue onward.
While this certainly is a problem (what gamer hasn’t been frustrated by the dreaded invisible wall?) something that struck me as I was reading it was that there is very little of this problem in a game like World in Conflict. Why is this? Obviously, there are boundaries at the edge of the map, and objects block the path of vehicles.
Three things spring into mind:
2D vs 3D movement: First, navigating a 3D world (which seems to be what Griffiths is focusing on) is a lot more complex than the fairly 2D vector that constitutes movement in World in Conflict – even if you’re controlling air units, you only move around a single plane, there’s no gameplay involved in height. This creates a very binary situation: an area is either passable or impassible. There are exceptions to this (infantry can move through forests), but for the tank and support role, it results in the notion that if it sticks up from the ground, you can’t move through it.
Speed and scope: Of course, in a game like World in Conflict (and I suppose most any “traditional” RTS) the scope is very different to a first or third person game. Units traverse a larger area, with less speed. This creates a gameplay where you’re rarely stressed, and you issue broader movement orders rather than specific control over a certain character.
Direction: This is also interesting. Of course, gameplay elements in strategy games will not be situated outside the allowed play area, and in most games, in an uninteresting area, away from enemies. The designers want you to go to that gold mine in the center of the map, much as they want your enemy to do to the same, provoking a conflict, and thus, gameplay. Add to that the fact that these games typically let the player know where he is located in relation to the world (left corner, right corner, etc), it creates a fairly simple case of going from starting point A, to interesting point B.
While first and third person games by no means direct the player away from gameplay and into boring areas, they rarely inform the player of his current location, and the specific location of his goal, and thus it becomes more of an exploration game. Couple this with the complexity of a 3D world and the increased speed and decreased scope, and you increase the chance of misinterpretation greatly.
What would the result be if we transfered this simplicity and sense of direction to other genres? What would such a game look like?
[ This article was written during my thesis project in spring 2007 and then published on this blog in february 2009 ]
The following article aims to present to the reader a new theoretical approach to strategic game level design. While the proposed theory doesn’t claim to be the theory to end all theories on level design (in fact, it is not meant to be a sole defining guideline at all, but rather a supplement), it provides a solution to a very real, and often neglected, problem:
What if there is a discrepancy between…
… and what actually is?
The following scenario was related to me by a friend, in a discussion regarding the very same problem:
During a gaming session of a very popular and critically acclaimed strategy game (which will remain unnamed), the action had moved to a large, open town square, surrounded on all sides by buildings. The game in question is centered on conquest, and the players compete over the control of a number of strategic points scattered across the map.
In the middle of the square stood a large statue, and subconsciously the players attention were drawn to said statue, it being the most natural focal point, its size providing a stark contrast to the otherwise empty square.
Instead of emphasizing on this phenomena and letting the statue act as the strategic point, the point was placed in a nearby alley. While such a discrepancy isn’t game breaking in any way, the opposite would provide a more intuitive point to control.
The solution to the above problem is fairly simple: Place the point to be captured close to the statue, or better yet, change it, making the statue the point to be captured, thus joining the most visually important element with the most important element from a game play perspective.
However, providing solutions to specific situations is a daunting task. Instead, I provide a set of theoretically anchored guidelines which in turn provide you, the designer, with a basic knowledge how to handle compositional weights and player attention in relation to level design.
First, and foremost, we need to equip ourselves with terms in which to touch the subject, of which the game frame is the first.
The game frame (frame here being used as a single picture in a series of many) is the optical structure presented from the game world (thus sans the interface), to the user, at an arbitrary but defined moment in time. In so many words this means what you can see of the game world at a specified time.
With that defined, there’s two ways in which the game frame can be treated: as an interface, and as an image.
The first way of treating the game frame is as an interface.
Put lightly, the interesting objects currently in the game frame are the controls with which the player interacts with the game system. Subscribing to this idea opens a series of interesting things to keep in mind while working. We can now treat the interactive objects on screen, as normal controls, and thus apply design theory, as follows:
The second way of treating the game frame, as an image, is used to enforce the previously described concepts, especially the concept of visibility.
A good rule of thumb to keep in mind during this passage is the fact that the human perception system can handle roughly 7 or 8 separate perceived groups before it gets confused, and needs to actively process the display.
Similarity – Use a uniform style for every object of a specific type.
Proximity – Be aware that objects placed close to other are grouped together.
Closure - Compose the game frame according to a skeletal structure by letting objects of similar contrast (weight) compose the extremes of said structure, and also, combining this principle with those of similarity and proximity increases the chances of the figure being grouped as one.
The following picture is a very crude and early version of a level design for an upcoming game, utilizing some of the described theories. The art presented is simply quick 10 second sprites drawn to be able to differentiate between different hexagons.

However, it does serve its purpose: A very simple, yet demonstrating application of some of the explained principles.
The purpose of this proposed theory is to increase awareness of how a player subconsciously interacts with the game frame. Let us return to the original problem:
During a gaming session of a very popular and critically acclaimed strategy game (which will remain unnamed), the action had moved to a large, open town square, surrounded on all sides by buildings. The game in question is centered on conquest, and the players compete over the control of a number of strategic points scattered across the map.
In the middle of the square stood a large statue, and subconsciously the players’ attention were drawn to said statue, it being the most natural focal point, its size providing a stark contrast to the otherwise empty square.
Instead of emphasizing on this phenomena and letting the statue act as the strategic point, the point was placed in a nearby alley. While such a discrepancy isn’t game breaking in any way, the opposite would provide a more intuitive point to control.
It is my opinion that had the designer responsible for this level been aware of the complex of problems, the situation that arose could have been detected, and avoided before the game shipped.

Freudless in Raptorville is powered by
WordPress
Entries (RSS)
and Comments (RSS).