greenie2600 on 13/9/2015 at 17:45
I've been thinking about this question, and I decided to write up my thoughts for anyone who creates FMs (or is thinking about doing so). Forgive the self-indulgence. This is obviously just one person's opinion—but even if you don't agree with all of my points, hopefully they'll at least get some ideas flowing. Feel free to add your own thoughts.
GeneralGive the player room to move around. A common mistake is to make the layout of levels too realistic, and therefore too cramped. In real life, there are probably only a couple of feet between your couch and your coffee table, and opening your back door might completely block the hallway. But real people are agile and maneuverable, and video game avatars (as far as the game engine is concerned) are rigid cylinders. They need more room.
So, keep this in mind as you create your mission. The measurements might be less realistic, but the mission will
feel more realistic to the player, because they aren't constantly getting hung up on level geometry. Nothing breaks immersion like being reminded that you're just a virtual cylinder colliding with virtual rectangles.
Don't punish the player unfairly or unpredictably. Pushing a button shouldn't fry the player with electricity (unless there are warning signs). Opening a door shouldn't put you face-to-face with an angry guard (unless there's some way to know beforehand that the guard is there). Servants shouldn't attack you (because that deviates from the game's standard mechanics, and violates the unspoken contract with the player). Whenever the player suffers an injury or setback, they should be able to say "that was my fault; I should have seen that coming". Outwitting a mission is fun. Stepping on invisible land mines isn't.
Consider designing guard patrol routes that overlap and interlock. When patrol routes don't overlap much, it's too easy for the player to "clear" each area, rendering it totally safe (and therefore boring). There may be specific cases where you
want to do this—but in general, you want to keep the player on their toes. They should rarely feel sure they could walk away from the game to make a sandwich, and come back 30 minutes later to find Garrett still alive.
Playing a level with well designed guard patterns feels like teasing apart a tangled piece of string—neutralizing guard A makes it a little easier to take out guard D, which makes it possible for you to sneak past guard B, which lets you pickpocket the key from guard C, which lets you access the security office to disable the cameras, which make it possible to get to the water arrows that will allow you to disable the iron beasts blocking the way to the basement... The player won't necessarily be conscious of this—they're just exploring the mission, looking for opportunities to disable threats. But you need to make sure those opportunities—and threats—are varied and surprising.
One way to do this is to put guards on long, circuitous routes that pass through multiple areas of the building. (But don't just put a bunch of guards on the same route at evenly spaced intervals—that feels artificial, and makes it too easy for the player to camp out in a single safe room and take out each guard one by one.)
Use the Z-axis wisely. Definitely exploit the vertical axis. But don't exploit it so much that your mission becomes (
http://g02.a.alicdn.com/kf/HTB11JFHIXXXXXXkXXXXq6xXFXXX4/Free-shipping-720-degree-three-dimensional-maze-Exercise-the-child-s-ability-thinking-skills-and-the.jpg) a three-dimensional maze.
In general, the player should do most of their movement on the horizontal plane. The layout of
vertical connections between areas (staircases, shafts, elevators) should be simpler than the horizontal ones (hallways, waterways, streets).
If you
do incorporate more complex vertical transitions (say, ventilation ducts, or a network of secret tunnels), consider adding grills or peepholes that allow the player to see the rooms they're passing over/under/through, so it's easier to maintain their bearings.
Locks that take forever to pick are boring. Don't make me sit there holding down the right mouse button for 45 seconds, especially if there are no guards around to make it challenging.
Secrets and hidden stuffSecrets should be hidden artfully, not obscurely. What constitutes a well hidden secret? Many FM authors seem to think that a microscopic switch, positioned so it can only be seen from a specific, improbable angle, in dark corner of a mansion with a hundred rooms, is well hidden. Well, it's certainly hard to find, but I'd argue that being
hard to find isn't the same thing as being
hidden well. There's no
wit to it. The player is expected to find it through brute force: by simply scouring every inch of the mission. And that's not fun.
Instead, the player should be able to
intuit the presence of a secret. They should think "that's a strange place for a painting", or "it seems like this room should be bigger; is there something behind that bookshelf?", or "that wall looks new". This is admittedly a tricky balance to strike: you don't want it to be
too obvious; you want the player to feel like they were clever for spotting it. Still, a secret that's a little too obvious is better than a secret that's aggressively, obnoxiously obscure.
ReadablesThe player should be able to pick up key readables. That crumpled paper with the code to the safe? The journal which explains the location of the hidden door? The tome describing the ritual to open the sealed portal? If you expect the player to clearly recognize its significance, then allow them to pick it up. Otherwise, you're simply forcing them to remember it or write it down—and that's not fun. Let them get on with playing the game, instead of pausing to take notes.
...and consider making non-key readables non-pick-uppable. Few things are more frustrating than cycling past a hundred scrolls, keys, and edibles to find the one inventory item you actually need. Preventing the player from collecting junk items in the first place helps to mitigate this problem. Of course, this hints to the player which readables contain clues and and which are just for flavor—but I think that's a feature, not a bug (see the next item).
Keep readables concise. I've played too many FMs which can't decide whether they want to be a video game, or a novel. No matter how wonderful your prose or your story, no one wants their gameplay experience to be interrupted every few minutes to read a twelve-page journal.
The worst offenders bury crucial information in their baroque prose, thus
forcing the player to carefully read every scroll, journal, and book they come across. This is fine for players who
enjoy complicated backstory—but not every player does.
My recommendation: try not to exceed two pages (the left and right sides of a book count together as a single "page") unless you have a good reason. You can get away with one or two longer readables per mission, as long as they provide definite bones to the plot, and aren't just an excuse to get people to read your fanfiction.
For example, if breaking into the baron's private chambers is a key objective, it's probably fine to put a lengthier journal on his desk, to explain more about the circumstances that led you to his mansion, and start laying the narrative groundwork for the
next mission. But don't leave long readables just scattered around. When the player finds a piece of lengthy exposition on a random table, s/he's going to assume there's something important in it. If there is, s/he'll be frustrated that s/he had to wade through so much fluff to find the one relevant bit. If there isn't, s/he'll be annoyed that s/he wasted time reading it.
"But if I just put the clue
right there, doesn't that make it obvious?" Well, yeah—it does. But does burying the clue in a bunch of filler
solve that problem? No—it just forces the player to jump through an additional hoop to get to the clue. And jumping through hoops isn't challenging or fun. It's just
work.
For each readable you add to you mission, ask yourself: what is the
purpose of this readable? If you can't clearly answer with one of the following, then consider removing or rethinking it:
* To further the gameplay (
e.g., to suggest the existence of a hidden switch, hint at the location of a lost key, or reveal a passcode).
* To reveal a specific plot point (
e.g., to explain who the dead guy in the basement is, or suggest the baron's infidelity).
* To add general flavor to the environment (
e.g., a snippet of Hammerite scripture in a temple, or a bit of humorous gossip between servants).
Unless you're very confident in your writing abilities, enlist someone to review and edit your readables, objectives, and other text. Misspellings, typos, grammatical issues, clunky prose, and inconsistent voice and style all disrupt immersion. Suddenly, I'm no longer Garrett the master thief, skulking into a noble's chambers and reading about his private intrigues—I'm just reading someone's sloppy email. (I'd likely be willing to help edit, and maybe even do some writing, if you need someone.)
User InterfaceDon't mess with the appearance of the light gem. Yes, it's tempting to customize everything that can be customized, just because it's so darn
neat. But the light gem is the single most important element of Thief's user interface, and players have learned its subtleties through long experience. When you replace that tool with a new, unfamiliar version—for no better reason other than the fact that you
can—you frustrate your players needlessly. One of the cardinal rules of user interface design is that things shouldn't change arbitrarily—above all else, an interface should be
consistent. The light gem is part of a UI, not a medium for self-expression. Leave it alone.
Don't make me guess what material a surface is made of. Raise your hand if you've ever peered at a custom texture, wondered whether it's wood or just muddy-looking stone, and then wasted a rope arrow to find out. As with the light gem, it's often best to stick to the familiar, default textures here.
ImmersionUse NPCs that are appropriate to the environment. City streets should be patrolled by the City Watch. Private buildings should be patrolled by private guards. Pay attention to voice sets, too—the player shouldn't heard a guard muttering "I never should have gotten out of doing noble guard duty", when the guard is <em>doing noble guard duty</em>.
PlaytestingGive your playtesters some guidance. Don't just turn them loose and hope for the best. In particular, ask them to test these things:
Make sure the player can't reach areas that aren't meant to be reachable. Players <em>will</em> try to get onto every rooftop, ledge, and crate they can see—so your playtesters should, too. Being able to access unintended areas—or <em>not</em> being able to access areas that look like they <em>should</em> be accessible—breaks immersion, and can allow the player to circumvent the challenges you've so carefully designed.
If an area is reachable, make sure it's properly dressed and finished. The player shouldn't be able to see outside of the level boundaries. Surfaces should be properly textured, and should produce the correct footstep sounds. There should be no invisible walls or floors.
It should never be possible for the player to jump and hit an invisible ceiling. Even if they've hauled some crates there and climbed on top of them. Find the highest accessible point in your level, and make the ceiling generously higher than that.
Ladders can be especially tricky to get right, so test them well. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to maneuver onto an innocent-looking ladder in a fan mission—only to plummet to my death. Being killed by a dumb bug like this, suddenly and through no fault of my own, is the most frustrating way to die in a game—especially if I haven't saved lately. Test ladders carefully,
especially those which are tall enough to cause significant injury to the player if they fail to attach successfully to the ladder.