Backwards Narrative Mission Design

What this post is not about: a guy named Aristotle. He wrote a great piece called The Poetics, and I recommend you read it. It’s a slog at first, but once it gets rolling and you get into the pattern of his writing, it will change how you feel about game design, story design and mission design in particular. Seriously.

His way to do it is one way to do it. Here’s what I do sometimes when I get stuck: I design backwards.

To make a mission, start with your goal. Then, keep asking, “What’s stopping the player from getting it right now?” The answers you receive will help you to establish your mission and also allow you to brainstorm the overall gamespace.

The goal can be worded exactly like you’d expect to see something written in your player’s mission log or journal.

Goal: Find out the location of the boss of the Irish mob.

Q: Why can’t I just ask someone about it?
A: Only a few people know. There was a hit on him a few weeks ago, and he’s really careful revealing his whereabouts.

I just made that up while writing, obviously. I don’t know if or how it could fit into the ultimate narrative, but if you know your overall space well (because you’ve been paying attention to things like Aristotle, Campbell and so on), it usually works out well.

Doing these missions involves a whole lot of brainstorming. Just go with it. You can change it later. If you come up with something that just doesn’t seem to fit, go with your intuition and don’t use it.

Q: Who are these “few people” that know the location of the boss?
A: ?

At this point, I’m hung up, actually. I can think of a few people, but how would my character know this unless I cheat narrative-wise and include something lame like, “It’s rumored that he visits Paddy’s Pub every Tuesday night to pick up a shipment of whiskey from Ireland.” That might be true, but it robs the player of an opportunity to find that out for themselves.

If this situation happens to you, you might be looking at too big a picture. In this case, I’m assuming that the player knows nothing, and starting with that, it’s going to be challenging for me or my character to go forward, particularly toward an end-game situation like the one I have set up. It’s also possible that you’re not asking the right questions in the “backward mission.”

I will assume that the player knows about the hit and knows the Boss has gone into hiding. I’ll also assume that the player has learned the various locations in the game. If I decide to keep these particular components, I will have to work them into my overall story arc in some way.

Q: Who might know about the location of the boss?
A: His three top guys, his brother (a prof), possibly his arch rival, and possibly the cops.

Again, I am just making this up on the fly. If I choose to integrate this mission into the game, I need to insure that the player has become aware of these people and their whereabouts before this particular moment. Also, trust the player - trust that your story is done well enough that they will recall this information. If they don’t, and testing would reveal that, you’ve done something wrong. You don’t need to force information out of a player or slam it down their throats. In fact, bar none, one of my most painful experiences in the industry involved a producer that insisted that all facts must be present just in case the player forgot them. So, as a result, all NPCs in the game were made to pander to you and provide you with information that quite often made you feel stupid. It may have been simpler to have the NPCs say, “Hey idiot. Since you’re clearly not capable of solving this puzzle, I’ve done it for you. Here’s your prize.” I digress.

It’s up to the player to recall these five people individually, and then figure out a way to get that information out. Making the connections is a form of reward for the player, and one of the valuable we as designers offer. This also sets up five potential play paths to get the information, each with a different level of risk. Ultimately, the player may only need to remember one of them. Think back to games you’ve played where they drop such heavy hints that you feel robbed of the reward of solving the puzzle.

Q: Can I just get the information from the cops?
A: No, they’re not going to tell you. It’s none of your business, for one, and for two, they’re being paid off by the mob to keep that information from you.

At this point, I am going to assume that the player doesn’t know that the mob is paying off the cops. Again, here’s another story thread I’ve created in going backwards. A lot of mission brainstorming does this, and it’s really helpful to generate ideas about your game.

Q: Are there other ways I can get the information from the cops?
A: You could get a job at the police department or…

I’m still branching out more at this point. Because it’s early in the process, I am comfortable letting all these possibilities float out there. Were I to develop a game like this, I might end up closing some of these avenues off in the interest of time or quality. There have to be at least 20 ways you could get his location out of the police, and of those, I can choose the ones I like.

If you have trouble coming up with steps for your mission, it might be because the mission itself isn’t working or the goal isn’t really goal-worthy. In this case, don’t try to force it. In game design, mercy killing is the law.

Jeff McNab’s “The Peon” Featured on Metaplace

When one of my game design students (for a few more weeks, anyways) is featured on the front page of Metaplace, it makes me smile. Over the last couple of years, a core group of students has begun to study game design with me here at the Savannah College of Art and Design, and Jeff was among the first to do so. So, it is with mentor-ish pride that I post this.

How long did it take you to make this world?

While I haven’t kept good notes on exact figures, I would guess that it’s somewhere between 35 and 50 hours. The majority of it was spent on art assets, since I’ve been hand painting most of them. For instance, I spent about 12 hours of time creating the player sprite because of the various angles he needs to face. I would say I’ve spent about 60% of the time on art assets, with 30% on scripting and learning various Metaplace functionalities and the last 10% on pre-production, a.k.a. thinking and writing.

Congrats, Jeff.

“It’s never been done before.”

… and there’s probably a reason for that.

Here are some other lines that make industry designers flinch:

• You know what I didn’t like about your game?
• My kid has a great idea for a game. Let me get him.
• “Dear sir, I’m applieing for the design director job.”
• This is my first time as producer.

Conflict as Applied to Mission Design

As players, we’ve all been sent on missions, and all missions are designed to resolve some type of conflict. The amount we invest emotionally in that conflict often determines how much we enjoy the mission.

Fedex missions (bring item X to person/place/thing Y) often fail to involve the player because their conflict is either missing entirely, hardly dramatic or meaningless. Good conflict involves the character or someone or something the character and player care about. Going to get the 5 pieces of tiger tooth to bring to the Wizard of Waffles makes players feel annoyed or delayed at best. Sure, you can say that the character cares deeply. An NPC in the game might even back you up on that. If the player doesn’t buy it, you’re done.

You need to wrap that mission in a conflict/story the player cares about. As fellow game designer Mark Nelson once told me, Lord of the Rings is a Fedex quest. You cared enough about that quest to watch all the films even after you had probably read all the books. That’s the difference emotional attachment and buy in can make in a mission.

Within that larger mission, there are dozens - maybe hundreds - of smaller missions (i.e. find the key to the lock), but the sheer strength of that large mission and the conflict that wraps it drives the rest along.

Types of Conflict - Narrative in Games

Games are about goals that are challenging to reach. Narratives in games turns those challenges to conflicts, and puts a nice wrapping on the underlying mechanics of the game.

These are the various types of conflict with gameplay examples included. Each presents the player with a problem he or she must solve.

Man vs. Man

Two or more individuals on opposite sides of an issue.

• Good vs. evil
• Group vs. group
• Two vs. one
• Top score/ranking
• Both want the same object
• First to the top of the mountain
• Someone said something about you
• Rumors
• Someone stole something from you
• Someone turns out to be something other than what you thought they would be
• Man X turns Man Y over to the authorities

Man vs. Nature/Environment

If the environment is preventing man from being in a place or a state he wants to be in.

• Weather - he’s cold
• Locked door - he can’t get in
• Geography - can’t cross cavern
• Jail - can’t get out
• Security - can’t get past security system
• Keeping you out - can’t get access to club/room/level
• Keeping you in - can’t find way out

Man vs. Society

Laws or a basic code of conduct is preventing the character from doing what he wants to do or forcing him to do something that he didn’t want to do. Codes of culture can be illegal, depending on the role of the player.

• Mafia member wants to return to society, but cannot.
• Romeo wants to marry Juliet, but can’t.
• No Irish need apply (Irish couldn’t get jobs in 1800’s leading up to the early 1900’s)
• Perceptions of religion
• Someone broke a law
• Someone has a secret that, if revealed to others, would cause them to feel some particular way

Man vs. Himself

The character’s conflict is within.

• He’s afraid, and he must push through it
• The situation asks more of him that he perceives he can give… he does it anyway and succeeds
• He finds himself in a moral dilemma - he doesn’t want to steal, but it’s there for the taking
• Should she date her best friend’s ex?
• He’s tired, doesn’t feel he can go on
• He is conflicted about whether or not to turn in his best friend

BioWare Visit (And The Other Side of the Speaking Fence)

Rich Vogel, co-studio director for BioWare Austin, is en route to the Savannah College of Art and Design, and will be here on Monday. He’s going to be speaking informally with students, checking out some of their work, enjoying our infamous southern hospitality, and ultimately delivering a talk on building an MMO from the ground up.

I’m looking forward to visiting with a fellow developer quite a bit, and also listening to his talk. One of the great benefits of inviting speakers, particularly speakers of Rich’s caliber, is the opportunity to suggest possible topics if the speaker requests it. So, Rich’s talk will be on building an MMO from the ground up, and he’s truly one of the very few who is capable of discussing this topic. Suffice to say that this lecture is easily GDC-level material.

An interesting side note, and with the tremendous assistance of my assistant Kathy, I’ve been handling all the random things that you have to do when you bring people in to speak (by “I’ve been…” I mean I’ve done 20% and Kathy’s done 80%). The irony is that while I’ve certainly been the cause of these random things about 50 times, I’ve never actually been on the other side. I promise to give much respect to those individuals who invite me to speak in the future.

Face Lift

I’ve had the old look for a while now, and I needed a change. Proving the point that we are creatures of patterns (and hence our reason for loving games), I know that not everyone’s going to love the new design, and I apologize for that. I just got tired of the old one, and needed something new to look at.

How do I acquire thee? Let me count the ways.

I’m grading a midterm exam right now, and one of the questions on it asks students to give an example of a typical game play paradigm. Most of them are picking territorial acquisition. It’s not at all surprising since it’s probably the most common paradigm in games.

So, how do I acquire thee?

• I take fish, and eliminate your ability to get onto my island (Hey, That’s My Fish!)
• I fight for control with three white dice and two red dice (Risk)
• I shoot, and you fall (Wolfenstein, et al)
• I buy it (Second Life)
• I clear it of creatures, and it’s mine (Baldur’s Gate)

I could go on, but it would be more fun to see what you come up with.

2 Down, 4 to Go, and Finding a Sounding Board

I finished another design on Monday for my “The Mechanic is the Message” installation. When I say “finished” what I really mean is “I have it mostly figured out in my head.” I plan to prototype this game as well as the first when I visit Ian Schreiber for the upcoming Digital Downtown Arts Festival May 7-9 in Columbus, Ohio. He and I are putting on a Game Design Improv workshop, so if you’re in the area, be sure to come down.

As a side note on that, every designer should get themselves someone with whom they can regularly discuss design. As most of you probably know by now, Ian’s the guy that I go to. He knows my design style, knows my typical flaws, and is completely comfortable telling me when something isn’t working (in at least 10 different ways). This makes his positive feedback all the more valuable. What you don’t want as a designer - or as an artist in any medium, really - is a peer that just says, “Good job” or “Yeah, that’s okay.” It’s not valuable feedback. Everyone can be better. Everyone can improve their process.

How We Become Leads

In response to my previous post about the IGDA’s leadership conference, Chris asked if meant to say something more. While I hadn’t at the time, his questions prompted me to write this post.

Is the video game industry short on leaders? Do you (we?) need more courage in game development?

I’ve been a lead on 6 projects, and the training I got for the job was being on 18 other projects. That’s pretty good training, I know, but never once did I train directly to be lead. Instead, I sort of apprenticed. This model tends to work well for smaller teams in the industry where you can actually have constant, meaningful, instruction-by-osmosis with your existing lead.

But what about others? I’ve known - we’ve all probably known - individuals that became lead, because:

• They were hired into the position
• They were the most talented individual in that discipline
• They had been there a long time
• It was their turn

I’ve seen each of them, and there are probably 10 other reasons I could add to the list. Being a lead requires so much more than talent or seniority or “your turn.” Being a good lead requires an individual who is self-disciplined, kind, able to inspire, non-political, not afraid to turn the fire up, and so much more. We could use some training, if only there were training to be had.

One company I worked at was actually pretty forward thinking in this regard and decided to get training for its leads. We were all shipped off to one of those training workshops run by Skillpath. On face value, it seemed like a good idea, but within 30 minutes of the presentation’s start, it was obvious we had wasted our money. We were surrounded by managers who lead teams of individuals that weren’t at all creatively vested in their project. Many managers were working with teams of individuals that were paid minimum wage, not 80K a year programmers, artists or designers with dual degrees from great schools. I don’t think I got a single thing out of that day except a great opportunity to discuss what being a lead in the game industry meant with my peers, and that in itself was quite valuable.

So, all this to say that I’m glad that the IGDA is once again offering this conference, and that I hope that those in positions of power, leads and future leads will take advantage of it.