Archive for category design
Design roundup #4.
Posted by The Management in design on July 23, 2010

- The Psychology of Randomness – People tend to be terrible at accepting randomness for what it is, and it’s a very important trait to accommodate for in game design.
- Testosterone and Competitive Play – Danc’s essay on playing against friends, playing against strangers, the perception of luck and skill, and pro-social/pro-dominance tendencies.
- Groundhog Day and Video Games – Groundhog Day is a fantastic movie with a surprisingly wide-spread appeal, and I always thought its concepts were perfect for a videogame.
Split-screens and widescreens.
Posted by The Management in design on June 20, 2010
Split-screen modes in videogames are often pejoratively labeled as the “little brother” feature. I think the association was always there, but only recently has the term itself gained popularity.
With the advent of XBLA, PSN, etc., console gamers are playing multiplayer titles the same way their PC counterparts have been for years: online. Supporting both online and split-screen modes is not a trivial task, so the older brother — much to the younger one’s assumed chagrin — ends up hogging the console. If a split-screen feature is present, though, both can enjoy the game at the same time, hence the “little brother” moniker.
Of course developing multiplayer games for a single screen has been around for ages. Shmups, puzzle games, rhythm titles, rail shooters, etc., often only require a single screen to accommodate all the participants. Other genres like scrolling beat-’em-ups or fighting games tend to lock or stretch the playing field to attain similar results. However, when a title requires a large physical separation between the players (such as in a racing game), console titles have generally relied on a split-screen approach.
Split-screens (especially with 3D games) are computationally expensive, so their implementation tends to be quite basic: each player gets his own personal rectangle of real-estate. In two-player games, this means dividing the screen into two portions with either a horizontal or a vertical line.

It might look pretty (if a bit wide), but I didn't enjoy Gears of War's horizontal split-screen co-op.
On older, squarish TVs neither the horizontal nor the vertical approach could really be that graceful, but the horizontal split became a de facto standard. It made sense since much like human vision, games were more horizontally oriented. It was the lesser of two evils.
With the rising popularity of co-op and the advent of widescreen HD TVs, though, I assumed this would change. My HD TV’s picture-in-picture option allows me to vertically split the screen between two visual streams, and it works quite well. After all, 8:9 is a lot closer to 4:3 than 16:4.5. It’s something developers have started to address — despite the fact that many current games are designed for a 16:9 aspect ratio — but split-screens still tend to be a bit of a mess.
To improve their implementation, I would suggest the following:
— Provide an option for either a horizontal or a vertical split-screen mode. Automatically selecting one might seem user-friendly, but it’s also a very divisive issue. Once split-screen is implemented, it should be relatively simple to support both modes, so why not let the player choose which one he prefers?

I didn't know Splinter Cell: Conviction had a vertical split-screen co-op mode! I was going to wait a bit for its price to drop before picking it up, but now I'm tempted to get it just so I can play it with my roommate (hi Dave!).
— There’s no rule that says 100% of the screen real-estate must be taken up by the players’ viewports. This can often produce a warped and cropped appearance, so why not try to maintain correct aspect ratio (in either mode), and use the remaining space to display a minimap, the inventory, HUD components, etc.?
— The major issue with vertical split-screens seems to be the lack of peripheral vision. It’s a legitimate complaint, but one that also seems easy to address with a little bit of field-of-view tweaking. FPS games in particular have been reducing the FOV for quite a while now, and widening it for split-screen modes should be very simple to do.
Thoughts?
The consistency of game-worlds.
Posted by The Management in design on April 30, 2010

On a purely aesthetic level, the repeated usage of art assets has advanced a great deal since the copy-and-paste days of tile-based games. More often than not, a simple rock can now be viewed from multiple camera angles, its body can be scaled and rotated along three different axes, lighting and shading can be used to illuminate or obscure it, texturing tricks can be employed to differentiate its surface from that of other rocks, and particle and shader effects can enhance it with extra visual flair.
These techniques prevent a game-world from coming across as a clearly defined series of asset-stamps. Of course the base assets can still be spotted if one looks hard enough, but, at least at a quick glance, they make for visually varied environments.
As the quantity of the base assets increases, though, and as more and more of them are individually edited, the scenes these objects compose become increasingly unique. This borderline hand-sculpting of a game’s world creates very pretty visuals, but it also introduces issues of recognition.
To illustrate this, I’ll use the original Assassin’s Creed and Uncharted 2: Among Thieves. The first title is an open sandbox while the second is a fairly linear experience, but both games contain their fair share of environmental traversal.
With Assassin’s Creed, it’s incredibly easy to assess any given location, and by extension the player’s available actions. This allows him to waltz into a previously unexplored area, cause a bit of havoc, and make a quick getaway. Every ledge, beam, outcropping, etc., is instantly recognizable, and their functionality effortlessly parsed.
In Uncharted 2, on the other hand, every part of a level tends to be uniquely structured. This results in some impressive vistas, but prevents the player from instantly recognizing how he can interact with their individual components. Of course the game is tightly structured and pretty forgiving, and tends to separate its platforming from its combat, so split-second assessments are rarely necessary. Humans are also very good at grouping and categorizing objects, so the assets’ visual permutations are fairly easily digested.
This aesthetic variety does become more of an issue, though, when the player incorrectly guesses at the properties or functionality of an individual object.
It might seem a bit odd that all the ladders in Assassin’s Creed are pretty uniform, but once a ladder is encountered, its purpose is clear for the rest of the game. The player never debates whether he can climb a ladder positioned at a steep angle, or whether such a ladder can hold his weight. There are also no ladders with missing rungs, or ladders adorned with ornamental cloth, so there’s never any risk in performing the climbing action itself.
Such drastic visual tweaks often require substantial alterations to the assets’ physical properties, e.g., the crumbling ledge can’t be grabbed, the steep slope must initiate a custom scaling animation, the angled column needs to be walled off by an invisible wall, etc. These special cases not only have the tendency to break the suspension of disbelief (why exactly can’t I hop over a dinky fence when I can effortlessly jump across a giant chasm?), but they can also foster bugs and glitches.
Large amounts of customization need to be meticulously tracked, and their combinations are significantly more difficult to predict, test and smooth out. As an example, during my playthrough of Uncharted 2, I managed to clip through a piece of architecture that had no collision checks associated with it, and climbed up to an area I clearly wasn’t supposed to reach. Both cases resulted in Nathan Drake promptly falling to his death (the second one even took him outside the bounds of the map itself).
These seams in the game-world are quite jarring and break player immersion, and, in my opinion, highlight how a more basic but consistent setting can actually appear more elegant and believable.
Design roundup #3.
Posted by The Management in design on March 11, 2010

- Robbing Gods – An interesting article on The Escapist about the thematic aspects of Thief: The Dark Project and how they fit into the title’s atmosphere and gameplay.
- Bungie Publications – Various papers on Bungie’s development of the Halo series. Lots of interesting info outside of game design per se, but also some good AI breakdowns.
- Movement Mechanics in “The Legend of Zelda” – A fairy detailed article on Link’s moveset in the original game and its sequel, and another example of why Nintendo’s games often just “feel” so good.
Pop-up videos and love.
Posted by The Management in design on February 27, 2010

Although I enjoy creating games more than anything, occasionally I ponder what it’d be like to focus on critiquing. If I were to take that path, I have a couple of ideas for “hooks” that could potentially set me apart from countless critics and reviewers. One such hook is (was?) the format of a Pop-Up Video.
The idea is simple enough, although time consuming. Still, it’s a sure fire way to stand out from the crowd, and Ben Croshaw’s Zero Punctuation has certainly shown the benefits of a unique format. Also, the iconic imagery used to convey opinions and trivia in Pop-Up Videos can be extremely preferable to actual voice recordings.
And with the advent of YouTube’s annotations, Frank Cifaldi of Lost Levels has created his own version of the concept:
Obviously it’s missing the visuals of Pop-Up Videos, and there’s a bit of a data overload for the length of the clips, but it’s still good stuff.
The videos also repeatedly mention one aspect of game creation that’s widely recognized but rarely discussed in detail: “the love.”
It’s a nebulous term, and seeing how it’s been a while since I’ve suggested any definitions, I figured it’d take a shot at it.

One of my personal favourite loving touches: the plant enemy from DraculaX. It's not a boss, yet it's only encountered once in this semi-secret room along the way to the alternate exit from Stage 1. It's completely optional and there's no prize for defeating it, but it greatly enhances to the atmosphere.
The idea of love in a videogame usually boils down to the romantic notion of a developer so passionate about a title that he surmounts countless hurdles to put his personal stamp on the creation. It’s the extra sprite that’s encountered just once in the game, the playful dialogue between minor characters only accessible upon subsequent replays, an alternate special move for a boss that only appears on the hardest difficulty, etc.
These loving touches don’t carry a lot of bang for the buck. They’re easy to miss, they’re rarely duplicated, and they usually have a minimal effect on the gameplay. If they’re planned ahead of time, they’re often the first elements to get cut when the realities of budgets and schedules rear up. It’s not easy to place any actual value on them, and when removed — or simply not implemented — their absence doesn’t seem very detrimental.
In short, they’re the opposite of the typical bullet-points that can go on the back of a box.

Baking bread in Ultima VII was far from a requirement, yet it's often used by fans to exemplify the game's rich setting.
Somewhat contradictorily, though, they can easily become the most memorable parts of a game. They’re what can set it apart from other titles and make it special to the player, and, in the grand scheme of things, matter a whole lot more than the number of levels or weapons. That alone warrants a definition:
loving touch, n.
- An element of a videogame that’s largely inconsequential and easily overlooked, but one that often represents quality and resonates as a unique and defining feature.
What are some of your favourite examples of “the love” in a videogame?




Hi, my name’s Radek Koncewicz, and I work as a videogame design consultant. I'm also the creative lead of