WORLD DESIGN THEORY - BLOG POST #6 - Evolution from ‘Braid’ to ‘The Witness’ - Conrad Turzynski22/5/2017 “From minute one, I knew that that was not what this game was. This game is a very focused, deliberate, puzzle game, where there are no extraneous elements in the game, aside from what helps to create the puzzles. There literally are none.”
- Jonathan Blow When talking about Braid, and how some people wished it were more of an open-world experience, Jonathan Blow explained what the game meant to him with the above quote. Braid is all about the mechanics of time travel. Blow changes up the mechanics between levels, and in later levels mixes them together, but the experience is distilled down to only the bare necessities. Instead of adding a lot of extra content, Blow instead re-contextualises his world by teaching the player how to apply their given mechanics in new ways. This means that the game never loses sight of what it is. There are set things that are drip fed to the players in a certain sequence. The game is designed so that the players feels like they’re discovering everything for themselves, and that they’re figuring the puzzles out all on their own. In reality, your experience is very carefully, analytically designed behind the scenes. The only gripe I have (after playing the demo, so to be fair this could have been changed in the final release) is the very beginning of the game. It does a really good job of setting the tone and context for the adventure, but the initial platforming areas are a little disappointing. After playing a reasonable amount of the game, and noticing the loving way the game is crafted, it’s a shame that the initial areas so lazily designed. The player is taught instantly how to jump, how to climb, that enemies can be killed by being jumped on, and that by holding shift, the player can rewind time. To finish the ‘tutorial’ area, and collect the puzzle pieces, players have to jump on an enemies head to get an increased jump. Directly after this, players then need to chain two jumps on two consecutive enemies to get an even greater jump height to get a second puzzle piece. After teaching the player subtly how to increase their jump height, right at the very end is a series of three ledges. Right next to the three ledges is a sign that explains how to jump to the player. WHY. There is literally no way that the player can have arrived at the end of the level without not only jumping, but most likely also jumping with a bit of acrobatic finesse as well. It’s a small gripe, but it does kind of make you feel stupid. The Witness is the second game by Jonathan Blow. Created off the back of Braids successes, The Witness is in essence the evolution of Braid. In a similar manner to Braid, the Witness drip-feeds information to the player gradually as the experience deepens. One difference I immediately noticed is that the world is open to the player right from the beginning. While this game is hailed as a more distilled version of the design philosophy of braid, this game immediately to me seems a little less concise. The game teaches the player the mechanics of the puzzles in a really straight forward way, which is really effective, but the openness does seem to make thing feel slightly overcomplicated. I haven’t played very far into the witness, and i’m sure that this openness would make more sense later on. To me, the main differences between Braid and The Witness seem to be order in which players can access information. The core design philosophies seem to be intact, and The Witness develops these a bit further. WORLD DESIGN THEORY - BLOG POST #5 - simple architectural pbr materials - conrad turzynski14/5/2017 This week we experimented inside unreal engines blueprints editor and how to set up basic PBR materials. We took two simple tileable textures (wooden floorboards and concrete) and managed to create four textures, two of them made entirely within the editor with no use of external maps (Glass and metal) aside from a grunge map. Examples of each map and their blueprints are below. This is the first time i’ve made textures from scratch just using a few basic images. Grunge maps were and entirely new concept to me, and the possibilities these contain are really excited. We also touched on texel density briefly, which was also useful. Metalness and roughness seem to be the most important aspects with PBR materials, and trying to fine tune them to achieve a believable result is challenging. I found that by tweaking them until I thought they were done, and then decreasing the intensity of all of my maps by about 20% gave me nice subtle, believable textures. Adjusting values inside of the node editor, instead of having to go backwards and forwards between software was also a really nice thing to learn. The possibilities are seemingly endless when it comes to PBR materials, and it’s really fun getting them to just the right levels. WORLD DESIGN THEORY - BLOG POST #4 - Open Topic - Zelda: Breath of the wild - Conrad Turzynski7/5/2017 Zelda: Breath of the wild (BotW) is a breakaway from the traditional formula of the Zelda franchise. The developers wanted to reinvent the series with this new entry, while maintaining the core values of the series. While traditional Zelda games are consists of worlds broken up into sections, this time the game was made as one, seamless space, one of the largest in video game history. For example, Ocarina of time, the first 3D entry in the series, is 0.098 sq. km, while Breath of the Wild is a staggering 360 sq. km. Having a world broken up into areas separated by load screens was a necessity in previous years, as games did not have the processing power at the time to render large play spaces on screen in real time. With today's technology, however, this is not the case, and having this massive new world comes with an entirely new way of designing player experience. The developers also wanted to accentuate this new style of Zelda game, by designing the Sheikah, a technologically advanced race, in a unique style. For this, they looked to Jomon era japan to inform their design decisions. Large worlds are difficult. On one hand, they can feel like massive, barren wastelands, and on the other, they can feel like complicated spaces teeming with possibility. Both of these can be confusing to players. A tool that really can not be ignored in an open world, is land-marking. BotW uses this masterfully. Players are taught early on in the game that high vantage points will show them what they need to see to progress. Sheikah Towers dot the landscape, and each one offers the player a vantage point that not only serves as a tower to scout from, but also as a data hub from which players can download the map of the area the tower is in. These towers glow bright orange when they are inactive, and turn blue once players have scaled them and downloaded the map. This means that when players enter a new area, the towers are easily spotted, and give the player a beacon to head towards. Once atop the towers, players can view the new area in 360 degrees, giving them context when they head down to the ground to further their adventure. Sheikah towers use lighting, size and silhouette to contrast against the background and sky to make them easy to spot. Sheikah Shrines, of which there are 120, also cash in on these techniques, with a particular emphasis on lighting. In a game world so large, finding 120 shrines really is a mammoth feat, and while shrines are hidden and must be found, they do emanate bright orange light, making them impossible to miss if they do appear in the players view, even for a split second. This makes spotting a shrine exiting, and also makes it feel like a fair challenge. Also within the game is a Shrine Sensor, built into the players Sheikah Slate, which is essentially the players phone, with a camera, documentation of things they've seen, their map, and their quests all managed within. The sensor itself helps lead players to nearby shrines. At first, I personally found this sensor annoying, as it bleeps away when a shrines is near, but after spending some more time with the game, is now fills me with excitement as I try to find more of the elusive shrines. Without it, I think that for most people the task would be impossible. The architecture of BotW intrigued me a lot, as there seems to a be a myriad of styles at use. Each of the many towns littered throughout the game has a different style, some of them referencing feudal Japanese architecture, and some having a more European feel to them. This gives each of the towns it's own character, and makes them easier to remember. The most interesting of all the architecture has to be that of the Sheikah. The Sheikah were influenced by Jomon era Japan. This is a relatively unknown era of japan's history, which made it a perfect embodiment for the mysterious Sheikah people. The forms of Jomon era art and architecture feature rounded edges, flowing patters and organic forms. They seem to reference water, but this is only my speculation. Having a high-tech civilisation in a medieval world is a strange concept, and the organic spiraling forms of the Sheikah give it an alien feel, but also one that seems to reference the rolling hills and rivers of the land it resides on. The towers especially seem 'alive', the forms feeling more like flesh than masonry. Sheikah architecture glows in a bioluminesent manner, adding to this. Sheikah remains litter the world, and are often encorporated into modern towns and villages. In short, BotW guides the player using lighting, landmarks, composition and light, diagetic elements, such as the sensor. The architecture helps to build and inform the world. WORLD DESIGN THEORY - BLOG POST #1 - lighting as a Navigational tool in Bioshock - Conrad Turzynski4/4/2017 Lighting in Bioshock is one of the games strongest features, and it is used constantly throughout the game to subconsciously guide the player through the labyrinthine halls of Rapture. The player begins their journey spluttering in the sea amidst the burning wreckage of the sinking plane they just crashed in. Immediately, the player is used by the guiding light of the flames of the wreckage; there is a gap in the wall of flame, and this negative space, or lack of light, is what leads the player through this scene (see image_01). This proves that not only light, but the lack of it, can be a powerful too when guiding a player. The next thing the player encounters is the lighthouse, a monolithic landmark, silhouetted by the moon. The colour palette used for this lighting is very cool, but still very bright, and this cool light contrasts heavily to the roaring orange and gold flames of the planes and wrneches the players eye upward to ward the next place they need to go (see image_02). Upon scaling the steps of the lighthouse, the player is confronted by a massive, ominous door, inside of which the room is pitch black. The only light the player sees is a slit of light crawling in through the slightly opened door, and this light works as a line for the player to follow inside (see image_03). Once inside the room is lit up, revealing a rich golden environment, and a confronting statue of the games primary antagonist, Andrew Ryan. The player then heads downstairs to find a bathysphere, with a rich golden mist steaming out. The light from inside the bathysphere catches the mist in the air, and acts as a golden glow to beckon the player in from the dark room they currently stand in (see image_04). After travelling down to the bottom of the sea in the little subnuatical, the player is introduced to neon lights, which guide them into Rapture. Neon lights are another powerful tool that is used in Bioshock, and effectively highlights objects in the world (see image_05). The next scene players find themselves in, is their first hostile encounter in the game. From the apparent safety of the bathysphere, players watch as the silhouetted figure of a man is torn to shreds by a woman with what appears to be hooks for hands. The scene is almost pitch black, aside from a window directly adjacent to the player, across the room. This window casts light towards the scene from behind, creating strong silhouette, and the light passing through the window sets up a stage for the scene on the floor See image_06). The player then escapes the bathysphere and heads off through the halls of rapture, finding weapons along the way and fighting splicers. The final notable use of light used in the Bioshock demo is towards the very end, where the player must acquire their very first plasmid, electro-bolt. The game leads the player into a room, towards a broken door, with a malfunctioning lock, sparking with live electricity. After noticing the lock, with it's bright sparks, and going over to inspect it, the player has no choice but to turn around and look for another way, or a solution to the broken door. Upon turning, the player is shown a sign that they cannot miss (see image_07). A large neon sign, depicting a hand firing lightning from it's fingertips, with the words 'Plasmids' strewn above it, guides the player upstairs to their first plasmid. The players receives their plasmid, and is shown a brief cut-scene where they inject the plasmid into their arm and have an adverse reaction to it, falling down from the upstairs level to land right in front of the broken door. The sign, whilst seeming a little blunt, is actually blended into the world contextually, and so instead of seeming tacked on, the player simply accepts it as a part of the world, and so subconsciously follows it, as opposed to consciously.
Having played through the entirety of Bioshock myself, I can safely say that the lighting techniques used in this demo are continually re-used and developed throughout the rest of the game to great effect. Bioshock is a great example of how lighting can be an extremely powerful navigational tool in games, and how a world can be built with lighting in mind and incorporated into the world itself. Lighting is something that we as humans take for granted, and so when it is manipulated in clever ways, we really don't notice, and this allows game designers to lead players through complex places without having to hold their hands. Memory of a Broken Dimension begins with a command prompt interface reminiscent of old DOS systems. This system is known as RELICS, and through this system, the player must gain access to an abstract, distorted 3D world. This 3D world is the real flesh and bones of the experience, but my experience with this game is solely with the RELICS interface. The prototype that developer Ezra Hanson-White has put out to the public is the only experience available right now, and is the version that I have played. I spent and evening within RELICS trying to decode it's cryptic codes, and intrigued I was determined to go ahead without help. Initial results from words such as 'run' proved fruitless, and hitting the escape key only prompted the worlds 'THERE IS NO ESCAPE'. The game is extremely eerie, and visually is very noisy and disturbing. Such a safe environment as a command prompt system feels very alien and threatening, and I was determined to reach the 3D world buried within. After getting nowhere for long enough, I did end up looking up a guide on how to reach the 3D portion of the game.
Phrases such as 'REMOTE', 'VOIDSCAN' and 'S-DIVER' yield results if entered in a certain order. These cryptic clues can be found within the abstract words and letters that constantly rearrange themselves within RELICS, and only players with a keen eye have noticed these thus far. The game felt very deep, and very alienating at first, and I certainly felt like I was messing with something I shouldn't have been. I also felt an irrational feeling of being watched. The way RELICS constantly shifts and rearranges itself makes it feel very alive. This first portion of the game is an intangible experience, and really sets the tone for for the second half, the 3D world. Upon entering the correct command prompts, you enter a fractal 3D world. This world borrows heavily from a myriad of ideas fro many schools of art. of The world is in black white and shades of grey, and the forms are distorted, and become a mishmash of lines and shapes. None of the imagery in this world seems to depict anything from the real world, aside from a bridge with a rocky texture that appears if you solve the games first puzzle, which involves the player standing in just the right position for the fractured shapes to form together into a physical object you can walk upon. The game has expressionist elements, as the world is distorted in order to set a certain mood.The mood or vibe of the world seems more important than the physical reality itself, although the puzzles within the world to rely on physicality. The way the world smashes itself into lines and planes riffs heavily off of cubism, as objects are broken up and reassembled before the players eyes. At times, there also seems to be multiple viewpoints of a single objects, as the pieces rearrange themselves. The world does feel violent and turbulent at times, and seems to have borrowed this partially from futurism. The game seems to rely heavily on some kind of shader, that takes what must be a generic 3D scene, and rearranges it physically and visually. This would mean that the developer could focus on the content of the game, without having to worry so much about the aesthetic, as this would be generated by the shader and whatever other scripts are effecting the geometry under the hood. In the end, I couldn't get past what I assume is the second puzzle. I didn't want to have to look anything else up, as this would seem to defeat the point in the game; trying to guide a player through a world that doesn't make much sense. The concept of navigation through an abstract space is very intriguing. How does one create an experience that leads players through a world that only loosely represents their own? A world where we don't initially understand any of the rules or laws? I'm not sure this game taught me much in that regard, but it was a cool experience, and one that has had me thinking long after about abstract worlds, and how they work. Reference: https://www.rockpapershotgun.com/2012/10/17/hack-this-memory-of-a-broken-dimension/ Word Design theory - Blog post #2 - redesigning new zealand's only amusement park - conrad turzynski16/3/2017 For blog post #2, I have fixed New Zealand's world famous 'Raindbow's End' amusement park! By completely re-branding the theme park with my favourite game, I have made everything bad about Rainbow's End great! Guests enter through the main gate, walk into the center towards the giant castle at the rear of the park. Once reaching the center, they may head to any of the four civilisation themed areas of the park. It is possible to access each area from the middle, but if guests want to see all of them, it's possible to walk the whole way around the park. In each area there is a market for guests to purchase memorabilia styled as their favourite civilisation! Ample parking out the front makes arriving and leaving a breeze!
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World design theory (WDT)DevelopersThe goal of this blog is to relate current and past attempts at world design to further improve our understanding. Archives
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