Choice. Choice is arguably the biggest factor in enhancing the sense of freedom. The more options players have (within limits), and the more choices they can make when exploring those options, the freer they will feel. Another example of choice comes when the player can interact with the environment so that there is a lot to do, even within a limited space.

It’s important to note that simply offering a lot of choices and options does not necessarily make a game feel freer. The choices and options should enhance the gameplay, not add complexity for complexity’s sake. In addition, choices must be meaningful. The choices the player makes must each have a different effect on the game or situation—or at least the player’s responses. If all choices essentially lead to the same result, then they aren’t really choices. For instance, if all weapons do exactly the same damage and are equally effective in all situations, then the choice of using one weapon rather than another is not really a choice. However, if weapons have different looks, and players prefer, say, carrying a giant club over carrying a jewel-encrusted sword, then the choice they make is meaningful to them, which is what counts. However, even more significant is the difference between an assault rifle and a flamethrower, or a standard shrapnel grenade versus a flash bang. Or imagine the player has two roads to take. If each leads to the same location and nothing really different happens on either, then the choice is not particularly meaningful unless the scenery is particularly appealing. But if one road leads to specific encounters or to new routes that the other road does not, then the choice is quite meaningful in game terms.

Nonlinear Design. As a corollary to choice (really, a subset), consider nonlinearity. Linear games are games in which the plot or game action tends to move along a single line, forcing the player to experience a series of game scenarios that are predetermined and only reachable if the player can get past previous obstacles. There’s nothing wrong with this approach—it works remarkably well in some games, particularly in action games that seem to propel you forward—but if a sense of freedom is desirable in a game, then choice is far preferable, and nonlinear game design is a key element. Imagine GTA III if you could only drive from one mission location to the next and only do what the missions required. Nonlinear design often goes hand in hand with emergent stories, as opposed to predetermined stories. Emergent stories emerge from the player’s interaction with the environment and other characters and, as such, contribute to the magic of the game. Whether an emergent story feels freer than a predetermined story may depend on the game itself and how things unfold, but it is true that many games that feature emergent story elements also have more open-ended structures, thereby being freer from the player’s perspective.

Size. A larger world or a bigger story or mission structure can make a game seem more open and, if combined with other factors, freer. Certainly it’s likely that players would feel a greater sense of freedom if they played a game set in an entire city than they would if the whole game were set in a single room, and possibly more sense of freedom if the game were set in a landscape with open spaces and several cities over one that is confined only to one city. Of course, good game design can affect the situation, so these are generalities, and the result depends largely on other design factors—choice being among the most critical. A well-designed game set in a single house could seem freer than a poorly designed game set in an entire city.

Another way to look at size is through the level or amount of detail present in your world. The more detail you include, the more options you may offer the player, and the larger the set of choices they will have. For instance, in many games, you walk down a street, and the buildings to either side of you cannot be entered. They are mere façades. What if every door leads somewhere? Does that make a better game or just give the player a lot more to explore? The question is, in this case, does size matter? More is not always better. So if you have doors that lead somewhere, that “somewhere” should provide enjoyment, good gameplay, and some kind of payoff. If not, then there’s just a lot of empty space to explore.

I’m not suggesting that you shouldn’t increase the detail of your games. Quite the opposite—I encourage you to do so, but to make sure the player is having a meaningful experience interacting with all that added detail. If you do that, you not only have a functionally larger game, but a more compelling one that offers more experiences to the player.

Unpredictability. Unpredictable events make a game feel more real and more alive and can enhance the idea of freedom by changing a player’s focus from a one-pointed goal to flexible responses to unexpected situations. A one-pointed focus can feel restrictive, so keeping the player’s mind flexible will also keep it freer. One caveat: Randomness and unpredictability can enliven your game, but too much of it can become frustrating. Remember that, to some extent, predictability is at the core of a lot of game design. Players want to be surprised, but they also want to feel empowered. In a world where nothing makes sense, they will not have the necessary control over their environment to feel empowered and effective. The basic structure of your world has to make sense to players, and they need to understand how they can operate in that world. Once you have established that foundation, you can offer random and unpredictable elements to keep players on their toes.

Freedom of Movement. Nothing gives the perception of freedom as instantly as allowing players to choose their own directions and giving them either a choice of paths or a pathless, open environment. Let the player explore the available world without too many obvious restrictions. It’s good to create some obstacles and to hold out areas that can be explored as the game progresses (see also Chapter 25, “Barriers, Obstacles, and Detectors”), but letting players wander and explore, take alternate routes, and determine their own strategies, destinations, and directions enhances the perception of freedom, even if the plot or game structure is ultimately directing them in a particular direction.

Exploration. Games in which there is a lot of exploration tend to feel more wide open. There’s nothing like exploring an area and then discovering a whole new region or some really interesting new location—or even an extensive underground tunnel/maze/cave that provides further opportunities for exploration. And having incremental rewards (see also Chapter 23, “Goals,” and Chapter 24, “Rewards, Bonuses, and Penalties”) helps keep the exploration fresh.

Experimentation. A game that encourages creativity and allows for experimentation engages players and makes them forget the limits imposed within the game. Experimentation goes well with games that also encourage open-endedness and the elements of freedom. Give players plenty to work with and different ways to approach situations or to combine elements.

Interactive Objects. Make as many objects in the environment as interactive as possible. The more alive the world seems, the more there is to explore, and therefore the less restrictive and limited the world feels. However, to the extent that you can, make the interactions with objects in the environment as meaningful as possible. For instance, if you let the player get a soda from a machine, that soda should do something, such as give the player a little health or provide him with a temporary ability or boost to existing abilities. Or the soda might be used to trade with another character for a useful item. The more meaningful the result of interaction, in general, the better. The thing you need to keep in mind, though, is that meaningful doesn’t always mean useful to the system. Some interactive objects can have comedic value, surprising the player, such as the soda spraying all over the place. These things are not meaningful to the actual gameplay, but they do add value to the game.

Player-Created Content. Allowing players to create anything from unique avatars to useful items such as weapons, armor, and power-ups, to whole new levels or even completely independent modules can significantly increase the novelty and variety offered in a game or game system. Of course, in games played in the real world, there’s often considerable opportunity for flexibility and variety among players. In computer and video games, however, this sort of flexibility often has to be designed carefully to achieve desirable options and individual expression without unbalancing or otherwise becoming detrimental to the overall game experience. Although this may be important in single-player games, it is of even greater significance in multiplayer games.

Recycling. It’s very politically correct to recycle, and game designers do it all the time. The idea is to allow a player to pass through an area or zone and experience a lot of gameplay there, but design it so that there is more that can be done once the player has gained in abilities or new plot/story elements reveal more about the area and make it interesting to revisit. The reward of being able to complete tasks or actions that were previously impossible also enhances the feeling of being in control, and, especially if players are allowed to rediscover the area on their own, the perception of freedom as well. This concept also works with NPCs where, when players return to a city or settlement, they can find new interactions with the NPCs, rather than the same old stale ones.

The Plots Thicken. Create more than one plotline, and let the player choose among various clues leading to different situations. (See also Chapter 9, “Storytelling Techniques.”)

Optional Activities. Create as many optional quests, missions, tasks, and activities as you can. These can be as simple as discovering false walls or hidden doors, which lead to new areas to explore, or as complex as offering whole optional quests or even professions for players to engage in. Interactive objects, experimentation, and exploration come together to make the world seem more believable by showing the official plot isn’t the only thing going on.

Many Missions. Another way to enhance the concept of freedom is to create a lot of missions in a mission-based game. If you can randomly generate many of the missions, you further enhance the sense of openness to the game, particularly if a player can choose from among several mission paths, so the game does not appear to be linear. Creating multiple reward paths and bonus goals further enhances the sense of choice and therefore the sense of freedom.

Open-Endedness. The idea of a game that has no beginning and no end but is an ongoing experience can provide a great sense of freedom. Good examples are sim games, which are not games with specific predetermined goals. Players create their own goals, which can change from one time to the next. Some level-based action games can go on forever, simply getting harder as they go, until they become too hard for human reflexes to cope with. Such games certainly challenge players to achieve greater and greater success and, in a minor way, enhance a sense of freedom in that there is no end in sight. After all, you know you can always do a little better next time. Massive Multiplayer Games and games with exceptional levels of choice, such as Grand Theft Auto III and its sequels, also seem endless and full of options for how to play.

The Elements of Freedom. Many games, MMORPGs in particular, create the elements of interaction without necessarily creating the story or the specifics of the players’ activities. By setting the necessary elements of a game before the player, you can encourage individual expression and a wide variety of game experiences, including emergent stories and meaningful social interaction. This is similar to open-endedness in that the game and the momentary goal-setting within the game are pretty much up to the player and are not necessarily predetermined. God games (such as Peter Molyneux’s Populace or Black & White) work this way too, by suggesting an outcome but allowing players to determine any number of ways to get that outcome, using the elements that come with their godlike nature.

New Openings. Periodically during a game, you should expand the scope of the game. This is common in RPGs, where the world at the beginning is generally very small but continues to expand as the plot unfolds. Often, about mid-game, the player gains the ability to travel everywhere, even the places that had previously been closed. The world seems very large by comparison. This can also occur in strategy games, especially with the development of new technologies that allow access to areas previously out of reach. In story-based shooters, whole new story elements can be introduced at key points in the plot, which could significantly open up the game experience, even going as far as to switch sides completely, as in Halo.

Freedom in Complexity. In some games, such as Turn-Based and Real-Time Strategy games, you may begin with a very small amount of information and a very small circle of influence. However, as the game progresses, you will find yourself managing a much greater amount of information, directing dozens of units and ranging over a very wide territory. The way such games build up and add on enhances the idea of freedom and expansion, and they rarely feel restrictive. If all that information were presented to you from the beginning, the game would seem confusing and impossible to manage. A good example of this is any game from Sid Meier’s Civilization series.

Random Generation. One way to keep a game open and free is to create random elements, such as events, scenes, objects, quests and missions, and even territories. Such randomness creates a different rhythm and pace to the game, keeps it fresh and unpredictable, and makes the game seem more open.

The Great Big Map. Some games create a sense of freedom by having a massive map or by randomly generating new locations. For instance, many games set in outer space can randomly generate planets with almost no limits, making them seem unlimited. It may also be possible to randomly generate NPCs with whom the player can interact. Other games simply create a world on a very large scale and allow players to explore freely, perhaps with some restrictions to control pacing and story development.

The Effect of Time. Time pressure—urgency—can have a narrowing effect on players. Partly, this is because the very nature of racing against a deadline or countdown timer restricts the range of options a player has. In contrast, when there is no real urgency or time pressure, players have the luxury to experiment and try everything. However, that is not to say that time pressure should be avoided. The trick in establishing a sense of freedom is to allow players to explore at leisure and to use time pressure in specific circumstances to change the pace and urgency of the game on occasion. Also, many games impose an artificial sense of time pressure, making it seem urgent when it really isn’t. Experienced players generally will recognize this kind of false urgency and take their time exploring and checking out all their options before proceeding. However, an inexperienced player may think the false time pressure is real and hurry through parts of the game that were better played at leisure. If a player takes a false time pressure seriously, the result will be a reduced perception of freedom, but possibly a good learning experience.

Additionally, time can be used to affect the player’s experience in other ways, such as changing the time of day or the seasons of the year. Various gameplay-related elements may depend on time or the effects of time passing. Maybe you can’t reach a cave that is on the other side of a lake until the lake freezes in winter. Or maybe you can’t catch the werewolf until the full moon. For more on the effects of time in games, see Chapter 29, “Time Limits and Time Manipulation.”

Use All Dimensions. To further enhance the sense of freedom, allow players to experience three-dimensional thrills. Let them swim and dive to the bottom. Let them fly. Let them go underground and explore dark, dank places or fiery caverns...whatever. But let them move. In some games, it’s even useful to let them move through time—the fourth dimension. Or outer space. Or even inner space (the dimension of the mind). Different-sized frames/scales could include cellular, microscopic, small, large, planetary, or galactic.

Puzzles. By puzzles, I don’t necessarily mean literal puzzles, like crosswords or Rubik’s Cubes. I mean that situations players find themselves in should engage their minds. While engaged and focused, time passes very differently from when things are ho-hum and same old, same old. Mental (and physical) challenges can make even a small environment seem much bigger, simply by the additional energy and time it takes to interact with them. Therefore, instead of having a room in a game where you add a few enemies and call it done, consider creating a situation in that room—a situation that the player must figure out in order to advance. This makes that room more than just something the player has passed through. It becomes an experience. Which would seem bigger—a game with 10 rooms, each of which was pretty much the same and had limited options, or a game with 10 rooms, each of which was a new challenge to master and possibly full of different activities, options, or opportunities? The answer is obvious. But even in a very large game, you can add significantly by considering the makeup and nature of challenges in every aspect of the game and in every location. (See also Chapter 27, “Puzzles.”)

Open Spaces and Safe Zones. As a corollary to the preceding paragraph, however, players also need relief from stress. In some high-intensity games, every step the player takes is contested. However, in many games varying the pace is preferable, and having the player go through a sequence of heavy challenges to be followed by some exploration with minimal challenge or a chance to rest in a town or do something less focused can enhance the openness of the experience. This can be especially true in games with large maps. Some parts of the map might be especially dangerous, but others can be quite tame, with perhaps a few interesting views, items to locate, or something new to discover. Sometimes just the feeling of running across a vast landscape can provide a feeling of freedom.

Deep Immersion. Some games give you the impression of freedom because, although they are not gigantic in size or scope, they have you so immersed in the action that they just seem bigger. Doom was a great example of a game that wasn’t all that large, really, but that seemed big because every moment was intense. You didn’t think about size in traditional terms, but about how deeply you were embedded in the experience when it was happening.

Time Pressure. This tends to constrict a sense of freedom, though it can be used effectively, especially if balanced with less time-sensitive experiences. In large map games, time pressure can be used to encourage players to explore further (especially timid or less aggressive players). By giving them a mission or quest that requires them to go to a new area within a specifically allotted amount of time, time pressure becomes an asset that broadens freedom. (See also Chapter 28, “Controlling Pacing,” and Chapter 29, “Time Limits and Time Manipulation.”)

Small Game without Big Gameplay. Having a small map or small area doesn’t necessarily restrict the impression of freedom for a player, but in a game with a small space, there has to be a lot to do. (Of course, this doesn’t refer to arcade games such as Tetris or Missile Command, where the size of the game space is not relevant but the ongoing challenge is.)

Lack of Choices. This is the most basic of restrictions. If the player is forced into very narrow options, the experience of freedom is necessarily limited. For instance, having a shooter in which there is only one gun and no power-ups would be pretty restrictive—and possibly boring. Having an RTS with only one technology path or with only one type of warrior would be boring and restrictive. Giving players at least some options and choices certainly creates better games in almost every case, but it also enhances the perception of freedom.

Too Many Choices. Obviously, the corollary to having a lack of choices is that too many choices, particularly meaningless complexity, is actually restrictive as well. Just having a hundred different unit options doesn’t make a game necessarily better. It might be that the ideal number is five...or twenty. So, players need to have choices and options, but the choices and options you offer them must be meaningful to the game and to the players’ goals. (See Chapter 23, “Goals,” and Chapter 24, “Rewards, Bonuses, and Penalties.”)

Non-Interactive Environments. You can have lots of rooms with lots of objects in them, but if you can’t interact with any of them, they are window dressing. I’m not saying that a good game has to make every object and NPC interactive to the player, but to the extent that you increase interactivity in the environments you make, you increase the perception of freedom by virtue of additional player choices. Still, interaction with the environment, to be really useful, should be meaningful. You can chop down trees. So what? But what if you can use the lumber or clear a road, or what if cutting too many trees changes the local ecology and displaces wild beasts or causes the climate to change? What if you can cut down trees to block your enemy’s supply lines or even to drop them on top of your enemies? In each case, cutting trees has meaning to the player and is worth doing. Cutting trees where there is no effect whatsoever is ultimately boring, and in my world, boring is restrictive. (Also, see the upcoming “Interactivity with the Environment” section.)

Too Much Information. Players often get a lot of information at different points in a game, but if the game is well designed, they are ready to use and absorb that information. But if too much information is given to players when they aren’t prepared to deal with it all, they can retreat into confusion, and overly confused players are restricted in their sense of connection to the game. Some confusion is desirable. Players should be mystified at times and curious. So it’s just a matter of not overloading a player or presenting too much at once.

Too Little Information. On the other hand, when there is just not enough information to work with, players can feel restricted by not knowing what to do or even what the options are. There’s a range between too much and too little information; players want to have stuff to figure out, but not be totally in the dark—at least not usually. Sometimes leaving players floundering can be okay, but not when there’s too much of it. And, if you are going to leave players completely in the dark about something, it’s sometimes helpful to make it obvious that they aren’t supposed to know that yet. There are many ways to inform players that they aren’t going to get their questions answered—yet—through interactions with NPCs or sometimes simply by the way you unfold events, where the mysterious aspects of the world are obvious, and it’s clear enough that the answers will come in time.

Too Few Options/Skills/Weapons/Etc. This is obvious and similar to the Lack of Choices item, but it is more specific to the system, where lack of choices refers more to the story or player decisions during the game. Having one gun, one or two skills or abilities, and limited options for enjoying the game is restrictive, although having one or two weapons and a lot of ways to use them is not. Imagine Tomb Raider without the ability to climb up to high places or without the ability to jump. You might still enjoy the game, but it wouldn’t be the Tomb Raider we know.

Meaningless Interactivity. Despite the previous item, some activity does nothing to enhance a game or to enhance the perception of freedom. For instance, it doesn’t do much for a player if he can go up to a soda vending machine and have it pop out some pop if you can’t get something from the pop itself—such as quenching thirst or perhaps reviving health or even a special buzz that makes you move faster for a short time. Just having a can come out of the machine isn’t really meaningful interactivity and ultimately does little after the first time a player does it and finds out it is useless. In this case, where there’s a reward or purpose, it’s meaningful. Otherwise, it’s not.

This same principle applies to interaction with NPCs. For instance, just because you can interact with every NPC in a game, that doesn’t mean it’s good. If most of the interactions lead to meaningless dialog that has nothing to do with the gameplay, then it’s mostly a waste of the player’s time. That doesn’t mean the relevance of an interaction has to be obvious. It could be subtle or obscure, but it should ultimately have some meaning. (Refer to the Too Much Information and Too Little Information items earlier in this list.)

Linear Fixed Missions. Although many games successfully work with fairly fixed structures of missions and/or levels, these types of games often do not feel as free and unrestricted as games in which players have more choices of what they do. (See the next item on the list.) However, even with fixed mission structures, a well-designed game can feel free if the gameplay within the mission allows for experimentation, choice, and variety.

Fixed Paths. Like fixed missions, putting your characters on a rail or steering them to only one path, even when others seem to be available, is restrictive and lessens the perception of freedom. Some games have beautiful artwork that suggests a larger world around the player, but they cannot visit any of the landscape they see. They can only stay on a very restricted path, perhaps with occasional intersections and forks. Seeing a larger landscape and being unable to enter it feels restrictive.

Repetitive NPCs. NPCs who continually say the same thing hurt the sense of immersion and illusion that makes a game seem real. It’s a cliché that NPCs rarely change their tune unless they are part of a mission/quest or about to tell you about one. However, games where there is variety and a bit of the unexpected seem more real and, as a consequence, more free. It’s a minor point, and less important than some others, but more interesting NPCs can create a more interesting world environment, and it probably would only require a good writing team a few days to come up with plenty of variations, jokes, and interesting comments from NPCs. With a little more work, the NPCs could actually make relevant statements based on the player’s own experience in the game to that point.

Repetitive Mission Types. This is pretty self-explanatory. Variety is the spice of life and gaming, and having a bunch of cloned-off missions that all feel the same is stifling to a game and ultimately, in an indirect way, to the sense of being free. Conversely, having missions that are different and surprising, offering different experiences and challenges, makes a game seem bigger, broader, deeper, and freer. There are advantages to having some predictability or consistency within a game, however. And there are games that seem to thrive on repetitive mission types. So this isn’t a fixed rule, but an invitation to make games more interesting by adding more variety to the way missions, tasks, and quests are designed.

Lack of Mental Challenge. If a game doesn’t challenge the mind, it ultimately gets boring and feels restrictive. How often have you played a game that seemed fun at first, but never got beyond its original premise? You found yourself doing the same things over and over by rote and ultimately asking yourself, “Why am I still playing this?” Chances are those aren’t the games you finish.

Repetitive and Awkward Interfaces. Having done the same thing over and over again in an inefficient manner can be very irritating. Many games require repetitive actions—in fact, most games do. But when the repetitive action is annoyingly awkward to do, especially when the immediate reward is minimal, it is tiring and restrictive from the point of view of wanting to continue playing.

Too Much Character Maintenance. In some games, it’s fun to have to feed your character, rest when they get tired, repair equipment, clean up after them, and so on. It works in some games, but too much of it can be stifling and can detract from the main fun of the game (unless that is the fun). In a game of exploration and/or action, too much character maintenance may limit your range of exploration, the speed at which you can experience the action, and other aspects of the game. What? I have to stop and feed this guy again? I have to repair that sword? I just did that five minutes ago. (It was probably an hour ago, but that’s the nature of subjective time-shifting in games.) Balance plays a large part in this, however, since character maintenance is often intentional and a part of the game, but you need to find the line where it becomes too much.

Sore Feet. Too much meaningless travel from this place to that place, with little purpose or little reward, is not fun. Travel from place to place can be very rewarding and fun and can further the game in many ways, but the fourth or fifth time you’ve done the same long trek to deliver a message, it will seem dull and annoying. This is restrictive. If you have to make me travel, give it some variety and a decent amount of reward. Or give me a shortcut after the first or second time I’ve already made the journey—a teleportation device, fast conveyance, or something. On the other hand, depending on the game, you may need to be careful that you don’t make travel too easy or convenient, particularly if world exploration and chance encounters form a large part of the gameplay. As always, balance is key.

Bad Acting/Dialog/Plot. Yes, a game will seem more restrictive if you aren’t engaged. If a story sucks or the acting is totally lame, the game won’t feel as open and engaging, the rooms will seem to shrink in on you, and you’ll just want to get out. If you’re deeply immersed in the world, you feel expanded somehow, but if you’re barely tolerating it, you may be looking for something else to do instead of playing this game. Well, at least that’s what happens to me. Of course, where the acting is intentionally bad, as in a parody of bad acting, that can be amusing if it’s not overdone.

F is the magnitude of the gravitational force between the two point masses,

G is the gravitational constant,

m₁ is the mass of the first point mass,

m₂ is the mass of the second point mass,

r is the distance between the two point masses.

Music. Music can be dynamically triggered to vary with changes in the player’s circumstances. Although this kind of musical change does not necessarily create more realism (after all, who in the real world has music following them around all the time?), it does have a noticeable effect on a player’s immersion and response to the game, and we are all familiar with how music in movies sets the mood and conveys information. So, having music change dynamically can create a more alive world and a deeper response. For instance, during ordinary exploration, the music might be light and melodic, but entering a dark cave might change the music to something darker, and entering combat might change it to something heroic and dramatic—which also reminds you that you are fighting or about to fight. (For more information about music and sound in games, see Chapter 20, “Music and Sound.”)

Situational Response. Another way to enliven a game would be to create realistic responses by NPCs to the player. For instance, if the player walks around with a drawn weapon, people and other creatures might shy away and draw back. If the player were carrying a very valuable object, some of the NPCs might be curious, while others might be more inclined to attack the player. Or people might respond to players based on what they were wearing. For instance, an armored knight might provoke a different response than a minstrel carrying an instrument or a provocatively dressed woman. Someone dressed extravagantly might attract more pickpockets and muggers than someone plainly dressed, but he might get more attention at a store. If he were wearing a concealed weapon instead of an obvious one, he might seem even more vulnerable to thieves. In the proper disguise, players might be able to walk among enemies without attracting attention, but they might be attacked by their allies.

Special Environments. Sometimes your players will end up in very specific areas and associated situations, such as a haunted house, a dungeon, or a deep, dark forest. Think of these environments as systems and develop the area with the entire experience in mind. This would include music and sound effects, but it might also include the kinds of creatures that appear and how often, the likelihood of being attacked (which might increase if the player is there a long time or if he does something noisy, such as knock over a statue or kick a rock), the lighting and how it might change, the passage of time and how it affects the environment and the player’s experience, the buildup of danger as the player explores, and so on. Think about what the player can do in this environment and create a system that responds to the player’s actions (or non-actions).

Environmental Responses. If you do too much hunting or fishing, the game or fish will be reduced. The predators will be hungrier, and the basic ecology of an area will become unbalanced. Likewise, if you cut down forests, you can change weather patterns and animal survival and behavior. Several games have modeled the cause/effect nature of environmental forces, but it is one of those dynamic response systems that can have a profound effect over time on gameplay and player strategies. Whether these effects are desirable in a game depends on what kinds of gameplay and limitations you want to provide the player with.

Enemy Responses. Consider if an enemy thinks a situation is under control. He will be less alert and possibly won’t field as many soldiers or operatives to counter resistance. But suppose you (the player) start killing their people or destroying their installations. Then what? In a realistic situation, the enemy will respond. He will be more alert and on guard. He might put more troops and guards on duty. He might change orders from “don’t shoot” to “shoot to kill.” Basically, if you do something in the world, the world should respond appropriately.

Views and Scenes. One way to add some amount of realism and aliveness to games is to create very cool views and scenes. Generally, these are nothing more than eye candy, but they do make a world more fun. In addition, views and scenes can be used to offer the player some clues about the landscape and might even be used to allow the player to see some landmark or discover some clue.

Variable Terrain. Most games today offer landscapes that have hills and valleys, rivers, lakes, forests and meadows, and other variations on terrain. (A fabulous example is Oblivion, which offers a lot of terrain variations as well as interactive elements throughout.) Letting the player experience these terrains—and even better, incorporating them into the gameplay—makes for a more interesting world to explore.

Things That Move. Yes, there might be things that move and change in the landscape. A tree might fall across the path when the player approaches, or rocks might fall from a cliff. I’ve already mentioned such things as branches moving, the effects of wind on water, grass, or shrubs, and other environmental effects.

Things That Are Movable. Sometimes elements of the landscape should be movable or changeable by the player. Perhaps the player can shoot down a bird from a tree, or even chop down the tree, or roll a boulder onto the path below—which could be used as a trap against an unwary enemy.

Day and Night. Having day and night (and twilight, sunrise, sunset, and so on) can add elements of realism and immersion to a game and can add all kinds of opportunities for design variations based on the time of day. In addition, events can be scheduled according to exact game times, further adding to the game’s depth.

The Economies of Time. Time can be used as a commodity, making it something to be preserved or used sparingly, especially in games where every action takes some time, and there is a time limit imposed on events.

In a simple way, just having clocks in the world reflect real time or applicable game time adds to the realism of the environment.

Time Limits. In some games, having timers on events can add to the game’s aliveness. For instance, in a game with a slow pace, having a high-pressure timed event can add energy and intensity to the player’s experience. (See also Chapter 28, “Controlling Pacing,” and Chapter 29, “Time Limits and Time Manipulation.”)

Deadlines. As in the great movie High Noon, time can be used to create tension and anticipation of an upcoming event that inexorably comes closer and closer in time as the game progresses, and whose impending effect on the player or the world looms over the game. In terms of reality, this kind of situation can create very real emotional responses and anxiety in players, especially if they have invested a lot of time and energy into their characters.

Games with Time. Time can be used as an element of exploration when time travel is possible. It can open up all kinds of gameplay options and make a game world come alive in a very different way—by being mutable and changeable and by exploring the paradoxes of time manipulation.

Events That Show Time Passing. Time can seem endlessly flat in some games, especially because the player is so absorbed in specific gameplay that there is no real sense that anything changes. In fact, sometimes reminders of time passing are more annoying than interesting. For instance, if the game models day and night and the only difference is that it is harder to see at night, then it’s probably more of an annoyance than a cool feature of the game. However, if something changes at night—for instance, there are more interesting enemies who don’t appear during the day, or the player’s character gains (or loses) abilities at night—it becomes more integrated in gameplay. Other events that can signal the passage of time would be:

Sudden, short-duration gusts of wind could be used periodically.

Earthquake tremors, spaced a few minutes apart, followed by a big one could be used very sparingly.

Lightning storms that start in the distance, with delayed thunder, and move unpredictably—possibly closer and possibly farther away—could be used with discretion.

Snow falls and changes the landscape slowly. Or it falls, but it does not fall heavily enough to stick. By varying the intensity of a snowfall, you can create interesting effects, such as turning a green landscape white, using footprints in the snow as clues or as a way for enemies to track your player characters, and so on.

Hail could actually damage your characters—and their enemies, if it became really intense and the hailstones were large enough. This could be varied, and very, very rarely could they become big enough to hurt. (Getting under cover and leaving your enemies outside would be an advantage.)

A volcanic eruption could create some unexpected obstacles and challenges.

Very rarely, perhaps add other natural disasters, such as tornadoes and hurricanes, floods and tsunamis, meteor hits, and so on. How would the characters deal with such events? Could they be used to vary gameplay or further immerse the player?

Decoration of a scene with color, form, character, and movement

Barriers to movement

Resources (such as food or wood for building) or props (such as a bouquet of flowers to give to someone)

Refuge

Danger

Delineation of a path (or hiding one)

Perspective as they grow and change with the passage of time

Habitat for other creatures

Something to climb

Growth over time and/or change with the time of day or the seasons

Endless enemies to fight

Allies, friends, and pets

Food and/or resources—for the player, for NPCs, or for each other

Objects of quests

Ambience (sounds, sights, animations)

Clues, such as birds flying off when someone approaches

Random events

A hint of things to come, such as seeing a big tiger in the distance walking around, but when it’s not a danger yet

Attractive people randomly occurring in the environment

Love interests—NPCs who might become romantically involved with the player’s character

Seductive NPCs

Appealing or sexy player outfits

Sexy main character (Lara Croft)

Streetwalkers

Strip bars

Nude or sex scenes

Photo models as part of the game

Sexy people battling it out (Dead or Alive, for instance)

Wear and Failure. This is making things look used by giving them marks, dents, scratches, and other signs of wear. Streets should have potholes and patches, especially in the less affluent parts of town or in the country. This could also include items that sometimes give out and stop working, just like real things do.

Effect Details. A car peels out on the street. It should leave skid marks. Sometime later, perhaps in the wee hours of the morning, a street cleaner comes out and scrubs the rubber off the road. But he probably doesn’t do a perfect job.

For the Birds. Birds fly to roost in trees at twilight and start singing again at dawn. Maybe they leave little piles around below their roosting spots.

People Walk Uniquely. This may be faster or slower, even or choppy, limping, leaning forward or back, purposeful or just ambling along, and so on.

Ambient Sounds/Noises. Are the sounds in different scenes realistic? Do they add to the sense of being there? For instance, on a farm, would you hear cows mooing and chickens clucking? In a city, would you hear sirens, the occasional car wreck, police whistles, boom boxes blasting from passing cars, horns honking, people having arguments? There are lots of ways to create a realistic ambience.

Complete playable levels, such as racetracks in racing-type games

Weapons and explosives (from soap-carved pistols to weapons of mass destruction)

Armor (wearable)

Protective barriers

Fires

Chemical compounds

Homemade bombs

Homes (from hovels to mansions)

Furniture

Castles

Lakes, rivers, aqueducts, etc.

Dams

Cities

Monuments

Roads

Walls

Military bases

Armies, police forces, vigilante groups

Businesses

Political organizations

Bridges

Vehicles (from skateboards to rocket ships to space stations)

Creatures of all kinds

Custom characters

Robots

Electronic devices

Other machines of all kinds (anything you can imagine)

Planets

Research facilities

Gardens

Forests

Hybrid animals

Clones

Genetically engineered plants, animals, and sentient beings

Changes in land (flattened mountains, cleared fields or forests, etc.)

Tunnels and dungeons

Spells, runes, potions

Clothing

User-created game levels

User-created game modules

Musical instruments

Jewelry

Pots and baskets

Chopsticks

Silly Putty or Play-Doh or modeler’s clay

Paintbrushes

Sheets of paper

Garbage bags

Duct tape

String or twine

Rope

An alarm clock

Speakers

Microphones

Ceramic tiles

A place setting

A turkey carcass

A water glass

A can of soda

A box of baking soda

A pop or liquor bottle

Fizzy water

A pet frog, snake, cricket, or monkey

Ordinary items from a medicine cabinet or bathroom

A TV set

A radio

A pickle

Sports equipment, such as golf clubs, baseball bats, balls and mitts, hockey puck, etc.

Cleaning tools and products

Garden tools and products

Items found in a wood shop, car garage, or metal shop

Pocket change

A hair comb

A bottle of shampoo

A key or set of keys

A handkerchief or bandana

A banana

A 50-gallon drum

Anarchy

Monarchy

Oligarchy

Plutocracy

Republic

Democracy

Totalitarian/Dictatorial

Fascist

Theocracy

Kleptocracy

Tribal

Easy and free

Lenient

Benevolent

Disinterested

Strict

Meddling

Harsh

Brutal

Suspicious

Fearful

Apathetic

In turmoil

Unstable

Dangerous

Bribe someone

Contribute to someone’s cause

Build something

Save someone

Find something valuable

Bring special power or skill to the situation

Spy (obtain information)

Manipulate through sex

Double-cross

Blackmail

Hold hostages

Swear allegiance

Threaten

Run for office

Work for the rulers

Help the rebels

Fight the rebels

Marry into an influential family or marry for political ties