Come visit at Groudswell Games

Thanks for visiting The Game Needed Me. In an effort to formalize my game development efforts and to promote my first iPhone game, I have created a new site and a new blog, Groundswell Games. All the old posts from this blog have been imported to the new site, so all you need to do is update your RSS feed or bookmark.

I will be attempting to redirect this blog as well as possible, so I hope the transition to Groundswell Games will be easy for you.

Thanks for reading, and let me know how you like the new site!

A personal note

Here at TGNM we're pretty much all business; this is a game development blog, after all. Today is different, however. You see, my wife is pregnant with our first baby, and we found out this morning that we're having a little boy. It's hard to describe how I feel today, probably because there's not a single word that would do it -- excited, scared, nervous, happy, awestruck. None of them quite work.

Things are certainly going to change for us, and soon, but rather than dwell on all of that, I'd like to take a moment to admire the first picture of my firstborn son.

The doctor says that's his spine. You can see it ... right?

Zen and the art of indie game design

Touch Arcade posted an article yesterday about the upcoming iPhone game Zen Bound. Besides looking pretty frickin' slick, Zen Bound is notable because it's aiming at the increasingly popular zen-influenced approach to indie gaming (There is no spoon).



I put this in the same category as other non-traditional games like Jenova Chen's Cloud and flOw, and, to some extent, Crayon Physics (though it's more of a traditional puzzle game). These games are all characterized by a deliberate attempt to avoid the traditional trappings of commercial video games (or even the general concept of gaming). They aren't violent or particularly goal-driven, and they don't present situations where winning something is the player's primary motivation.

Games like this are appealing to me from a design perspective because of their counter-cultural tendencies. What's the best way to create an interactive experience that explores more than the adrenaline rush of today's big-budget games? Make something that moves slowly and doesn't go anywhere. It's a distinctly indie thought process, and it works perfectly for small projects. The focus is on quality on a small scale, doing one thing well and for its own sake.

I don't know if any of these designers will ever strike it rich, but that's probably not the point. The point, I suppose, is that there is no point.

Real estate in Fable 2: an incentive not to play

I've been playing Fable 2 since late December, hoping that it would deliver on all the hype. After putting in quite a few hours and completing the main story line, I've decided that, like a lot of critics, I'm not quite convinced. Certainly there are impressive elements -- the graphics and visual style are suitably impressive, and the combat system manages to be simple, fun, and relatively deep.

However, as plenty of critics have said, the story is way too short, and ends abruptly without so much as a boss fight. The clothing system is pretty fun to play with, but there is an unfortunate lack of options for outfitting your character, and the only equipment that affects your performance is weaponry (which is also lacking variety).

Aside from all these issues, the one that sticks with me the most is the poorly balanced real estate system. On the surface, it's a neat system. You can buy property and rent it out to earn money. You can purchase furniture to improve the value of your properties and sell them for a profit. You can interact with the local economy to improve (or destroy) the amount of profit you get from your businesses. You collect rent every five minutes of real time, even when you're not playing.

As nice as it is to earn money when you aren't playing, the real estate system actually creates an incentive not to play once you get further into the game. After finishing the main story, you gain the ability to purchase Fairfax Castle for 1,000,000 gold. I didn't have close to that amount, so my strategy was to buy up as much valuable real estate as possible and then stop playing for a week until my bank account got fat enough. There wasn't enough content to keep me occupied in Albion until I had enough money, so I just switched to a different game. Call me crazy, but shouldn't game mechanics actually encourage people to play?

To make matters worse, now that I have more money than I can spend, there's no reward that seems worth the trouble. Apparently the reward for collecting all 50 silver keys, aside from an Xbox achievement is 50,000 gold? Seriously? After spending a million on a piece of property? Why would I spend hours collecting keys for chump change like that?

As much as I complain about Fable 2, my wife and my brother (who get the brunt of my complaints) would be quick to point out that I'm still playing. I can't really explain why, except maybe for my compulsion to collect obscure achievements.

Beyond the numbers: are they just for über-nerds?

Hit points, experience points, reputation points, strength, critical hit percentage, intelligence, agility... There's a long list of "stats" common to games today (RPGs in particular), and most of the time the numbers behind these stats are visible to the player. So do players really want to calculate their crit percentages and crunch the benefits of +12 stamina vs. +10 intelligence? Is it enough for NPCs to express their feelings toward you as +5 love, +7 attraction, and -30 fear?

Asked another way, is it possible to derive any real drama from all the rigid computer logic behind our favorite games? Earnest Adams gives his thoughts in a recent Gamasutra feature about "Numbers, Emotions, and Behavior."

Adams' argument is a familiar one: video games will never rise to their full potential as long as designers continue to focus more attention on the numerical mechanics behind a game than the human element of the game's characters.

In principle, I agree. Games do need characters that behave in more believably human ways. We as gamers would all be better for it, and the industry would get more respect. The constant focus on math isn't a very "humanistic" thing; it feels more mechanical.

The difficulty, though, is that video games aren't just about characters and stories -- they're called games for a reason. We play them. They have rules and structure. We engage in goal-oriented activities and try to win more often than lose. In a fundamental sense, games are mechanical. If you take these elements away from an interactive experience, it no longer qualifies as a game.

Adams notes in his article that "all that emphasis on gear [in RPG games] seems distinctly nerdy." He's talking here about the desire to collect the best items that provide the best stat bonuses and give you the best chance at beating your opponent(s). Is this nerdy? Maybe, but this behavior isn't the exclusive domain of hardcore gamers. Fantasy sports requires the same type of in-depth attention and number crunching, and no one calls it nerdy.

Perhaps the difference is that fantasy sports don't offer the potential for narrative the way video games do. It's pure gaming with no delusions of artistic grandeur.

So what's a game designer to do? Hide the numbers at all costs or give your hardcore players something to sink their teeth into? The answer to this quandary, like most good quandaries, is likely somewhere in the middle, and it definitely depends on the type of game you're trying to make. Could World of Warcraft benefit from more compelling dramatic action or characterization? Absolutely. But would it be so ridiculously popular if it wasn't possible to agonize over item stats and DPS? No way.

Left 4 Dead: A co-op experiment

One thing my gamer friends (ok, that's all of them) and I always talk about is coordinating our purchase of a game so we can play together. Things rarely work out that way, mainly since everyone but me is still playing World of Warcraft. But last week three of us arranged to pick up Left 4 Dead at the same time. We even carpooled to the store.

After a few play sessions with everything from one to four players, here are some initial thoughts:

The co-op basket
Left 4 Dead is similar to Portal in one very important way. No, not that it's made by Valve. At it's core, Left 4 Dead is an experiment in one gameplay mechanic. Just like Portal took the concept of the portal gun and explored it to its utmost potential, Left 4 Dead attempts the same feat with multiplayer co-op. Zombie games are nothing new. Co-op isn't either. But Left 4 Dead is designed to force teamwork in co-op, which, strangely, hasn't been done too often.

From this angle, Left 4 Dead is a smashing success. Co-op play is great fun. It's intense, fast-paced, requires communication, and presents a decent challenge even on the normal difficulty setting.

The problem is that the game puts all its undead eggs in this one basket. The amout of fun this game offers is directly proportional to the number of people playing. It's fantastic with four, pretty good with three, just ok with two, and borderline boring with one. Not being one to play online with strangers, I anticipate that we'll frequently run into scheduling problems. And that's too much like work.

Embrace the random
The other primary feature of Left 4 Dead is it's sophisticated AI system. Every time you play a level, it's different. The game AI decides where to place boss zombies and where zombie rushes will come from. It definitely keeps you on your toes. I imagine higher difficulty levels (which I haven't yet graduated to) are quite intense. Even music and sound effects are controlled by this system, which creates a wonderful mood just at the right times and gives perfect queues to build suspense about which monster might be around the next corner.

In fact, I think Left 4 Dead's AI system presents a big step forward in gaming. There's no more memorizing enemy locations and finding just the right way to take them out. The randomness of gameplay forces you to play the game with urgency each time through.

However (you knew it was coming), all this glorious randomness comes with a price: there's not much content. The game includes four campaigns, each of which takes about an hour to play from start to finish. They're brilliantly designed, but they're short. Actually, they're about the right length. One hour of zombie slaying is about right. There just aren't enough campaigns to choose from. It may be impossible to know where the zombies are coming from, but you can certainly learn the best locations to fight them. The first time through a campaign is exhilarating; you don't know where you're going, and you don't know from which door death might emerge.

Overall, Left 4 Dead is quite well executed. There aren't enough games these days that focus on quality over quantity. Valve has produced the last few. Nevertheless, I find myself wishing for just a little more quantity on this one. I don't know how many more coordinated play sessions we'll pull off before somebody loses interest. Once that happens, the chances of anyone else sticking around drop considerably. Just like in the zombie apocalypse, if you don't all stick together, the fun won't last long.

The bandwagon

Happy new year, everyone. It's time to come back from vacation mode and get serious again. That means getting back to the day job, working more regularly on game development, and, of course, blogging. Yeah, maybe I'll get in shape, too.

One thing is certain, though: I now have more money invested in my little venture. My lovely wife bought me an iPod touch for Christmas, and signed up for the Apple iPhone developer program. Plus, I bought a Unity iPhone Basic license, so I can use the coolest development environment to make games for the coolest gadget.

Yes, that's right, I took the plunge -- just like everybody else.

This is one of those times that I wish I were more of an early adopter. The iPhone development market is pretty well flooded now, and the bulk of new apps coming along are games. Every day that goes by will make it harder to score a big hit; there's so much noise out there. Thankfully, thousands of people buy iPhones every day, and all of them no doubt will buy a few apps as they go. As the market matures, there will be less money around for silly or pointless games, and quality will become more important.

What am I working on? Well, a few things. The first goal is likely to be a simple, cheap (or free) game that lets me test the waters a bit. I'm working on something with my brother as well, which has been in the works for several months. We've started adapting our progress for the iPhone, and it's going to be a challenge to get things running smoothly. I've also got another, grander idea in mind that could be really cool, if I can get something out there before someone beats me to it. So many possibilities...

Then, of course, there's SPUDZOOKA. I fully intend to adapt it for the iPhone, but I have quite a bit of work to do there. I did a quick run today to see how well it could just be ported over. Alas, not very well. Running it promptly crashed my iPod.

There are a lot of sacrifices that have to be made for a mobile device, and I'm just beginning to get my head around them. More on that later. Stay tuned -- this is going to be an interesting year. For now, back to dabbling.