Part 1 of 1, by Ferret Baudoin
Something that gets discussed around the office on occasion is when it’s cool and not cool to force a player to travel with someone during the game. It’s obviously cool in some cases. Heck, many games force you to travel with someone the entire game — otherwise you’d have game titles like “Ratchet and Occasionally, Only If You Want To Bring Him Along, Clank”. For RPGs, though, it becomes a bit more contentious.
Sometimes for story reasons, even in RPGs, you just have to travel with someone for a stretch. I know it can ruin the “Iron Man” solo experience, but games are telling a story and sometimes you just have to roll with it. But there’s a real tension of when it’s OK to force someone to tag along.
The more “knowns” you have in a story the tighter the narrative and the more dramatic you can make things. So if I know that Farmer Ted is travelling with you during this one stretch, he can be interwoven in the story. He can really shine. But the problem is some people are going to hate Farmer Ted with the fiery passion of a thousand blazing suns. I like to point out in those cases that, “But even if you’re forced to spend time with Ted, you also get to spend some quality time with Slinky Seductress Sarah – and you have to admit, that bit was awesome.” But that’s really an existential point when you want nothing more than to punch Ted in the face.
I can already tell some people would want to say, “Just make two options – one where Ted is fully immersed in the plot and the other where he isn’t.” But people that say that aren’t living in my world. They’re living in a much happier world where developers have oodles of spare time, and they can just quickly whip up complicated alternate adventures in between their busy schedule of playing ping pong. By the way, if someone can point me to that world, I’d happily pay for the plane ticket. I’ll even write a nice note.
On the other extreme, you can make a game where the companions are completely optional. There’s a lot of merit to that. It’s your choice, your game, and if you don’t like Ted then stab him in the face. But by its very nature it makes it hard to have deep moments with any companion. Because in any given area the developer has to take into account that anybody can be there or no one can. And if the plot plays differently with them along, then headaches ensue.
I suspect the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Certainly many RPGs aim for that. But is it so wrong to want companions to interact intimately with the world, even if it means that waste of space Ted* is cluttering your screen for an hour?
* I’d like to take this time to apologize to all the Teds out there. I’m sure you’re all very nice people, and none at all of you deserve to be stabbed in the face. Except for one. You know who you are.
Ferret Baudoin is a lead designer at BioWare. He’s worked as a designer at Cyberlore, Black Isle, and Obsidian. His plan is not to take over the world. So don’t pay attention to the silently encroaching mustelid army. Bwahaha.
Tags: baudoin, game design, npc
November 27, 2008 at 8:02 am |
I don’t have a problem with forced come-alongs as long as there’s a good story explanation. (And if you’re given someone who’s literally useless in combat that they don’t take up a regular party slot. As I tend to create characters around their character, as opposed to munchkin’ing.) Also, as long as it’s actually something cool with the story(as you stated above) and not one of those “the writer was so in love with their character they felt the need to force them on you” sitches.
*random: Is that the group company photo that was included with the NWN Collector’s Edition?
November 27, 2008 at 9:38 am |
I agree I am actually a bit more of loner in most RPGs I play but the addition of party members also gets me doing far more additional parts of the story as I seem to caught in following the main quest and slipping by the additional stories that would come through party members. Scandalous I know
*Well call me a silly monkey for trying to slip that photo in unobserved. Good eye. I am actually not sure if that is where it is from but it is indeed a section of a company photo from severla years ago.
November 27, 2008 at 8:10 pm |
“By the way, if someone can point me to that world, I’d happily pay for the plane ticket. I’ll even write a nice note.” Well, I haven’t found a plane ticket there, but after much research, I’ve finally found the name of the place: Theory. Added bonus is that all kinds of cool ideas work there.
I’m not really a solo player, but I agree with Cat Lance on companions with you for the short term: as long as it makes sense to do so, I’ll roll with it. Long term forced companions or companions you have to RP instead of your character are different, but it would take too long to explain.
November 28, 2008 at 9:10 am |
Heh, I actually love having party members along, I’m just super choosy about who I bring.
*I recently re-installed NWN, so I guess it’s fresh in my memory.
**more random: I really am enjoying these blogs! (Especially the DM/ST/GM ones!
December 2, 2008 at 11:12 pm |
Okay, so I just stumbled back over these, but heck…I’m only a week or so late. :p
Anyway…I was kind of dumbfounded the first time I saw someone complaining about forced companions. But I guess that’s do to the way I play cRPGs, where I see them more as a choose your own adventure book in game form than a true role-playing experience. If the character is needed for the story, I don’t mind having them along. Of course, I rarely hate characters. The only exception I can think of was Bishop in NWN2, but only because he was completely opposite to my own character.
And I think there’s something of an answer in there about forced companions. Perhaps it’s best to do this with only companions that are more towards the middle in terms of personality/morality instead of ones are the far extremes. Such characters are less likely to be truly objectionable to people.
December 3, 2008 at 12:45 pm |
Forced companions are, much like everything else, an arbitray design decision. You can tell a story without forced companions. You can let a player be a part of his or her own story without removing companions altogether. For Bioware, the choice has always been crystal clear – a narrative which is heavy on character exposition and interplay. Naturally, your design goals and principles are based on that. I’d argue this isn’t necessary – story telling can be done in many ways. Forcing a character down my path, and have him or her interrupt my adventure whenever they need a crying shoulder, a morality justifier or a sexual appetizer is one. Not one necessarily to my tastes, but one that works for Bioware and, presumably, their target audience.
I am left wondering just what is more important – to let the main character play a role in the gameworld, or to have secondary characters play their roles for the player’s amusement. Role-playing games are traditionally rooted in theatre. A traditional play is a perfect example of this, with a lead role and supporting characters. They work together, within the story and among themselves, to offer a sense of a personality intrinsically tied to the world around them. But when applied to computer role-playing games, there is usually a shift, as the player character is not only part of the cast but also part of the audience. Which seems to limit just what one could achieve.
I believe the question shouldn’t be “Do I have to bring him along?” but rather, “Do I have to see his role carry more meaning than mine?”. Which, I guess, is a pet peeve of mine but also one of the things that honestly put me at odds with Bioware’s formula. In Neverwinter Nights, the player character may or may not care about the plague. He or she may, or may not, care about Neverwinter’s denizens or how the struggle to save the city is initially lost. But the player character is *not* the main character – Aribeth is. She is the one who shows any trace of a personality; in particular, she is the only one to ever suffer firsthand the consequences of what surrounds her, to react with meaning. Any sense of loss or despair by the player character can never hope to reach the same heights as those of the elven paladin. And while this works as a method to develop Aribeth, it fails to create any sort of connection to whatever role or choices the player character has. The game will never care that my paladin feels gutted by the death toll. That he feels is actions were fruitless. That his notions of “good” are fundamentally shaken to the core.
When my character becomes fallen, he loses a couple of abilities. The game will never care beyond that. But when Aribeth falls, Neverwinter trembles. And this got me thinking that the player character in Neverwinter Nights – and I daresay in pretty much every Bioware RPG – is more of a tool that serves to gauge the world around him or her. The stories in these games are not meant to give players a chance to develop a personality, but to give players a chance to explore the personalities gravitating around them.
From a design perspective, this is easy to understand and easier to create. It’s exponentially easier to create a story about someone who is predictable, someone the designers and the writers are intimately aware of, than it is to create a story that accommodates every possible whim of players. But it is also something that creates a certain disconnect. I have witnessed my foster father be slain. I have watched the Sword Coast tremble with an iron shortage. I have seen the rise and fall of the Bhaalspawn. Yet, for the most part, it’s Anomen’s doubts of the virtues of knighthood, Aerie’s traumatic past and shattered innocence, or Sarevok’s redemption after the damnation that seem to take center stage. They are characters bigger than life. Bigger than my character’s life. My character will always walk under their shadow because it’s these little stories that players remember. Vanquishing a fallen elf, an enraged would-be goddess, or thwarting an evil race is what carries the story. But where was the player character’s chance to shine? We confronted opponents of incredible might, solved the hardest of trials… But most gamers can quote Jan Jansen’s antics or fondly remember a furious squeal made by a miniature giant space hamster much better than they can recount their character’s feelings after having reclaimed their soul or defeating an entire Creator race.
Which, in a way, goes back to the question asked earlier. I don’t blame Ted. I like Teds. But why is Ted on the spotlight more often than me? Why is it that Ted seems to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I carry the weight of only being important to the NPCs that pester me for solving their problems?
Personal anecdote time – I remember when I was part of the staff at the much maligned RPG Codex. Information on Dragon Age was scant, until one day came the promise of being able to enslave nations with necromancy. This seemed too good to be true – a chance to create my own story in the greater scheme of things. And then David Gaider, always the nice guy he is, pointed out that line was merely a suggestion and not something that would actually see the light of day in the game.
Now, here I am thinking that, perhaps unsurprisingly, some scrawled note or book – perhaps even some NPC we encounter along the way – will tell of how some necromancer in the past did just that in the world of Dragon Age, or will attempt to do so in its future. And while this NPC has changed or is trying to change the *world* itself, these awesome side stories that swell up on my imagination and will be the backbone of the game will always be more interesting and full of character than my own character. Because the game will be about *telling* a rich story, not about forging my own.
I don’t mind Teds.
I like Teds.
But can I be more like Ted rather than Biff the Understudy?
December 17, 2008 at 4:31 am |
I agree with some of the previous comments here, as long as you get a valid explanation as to why you have to bring this character along, it’s OK with me.
December 20, 2008 at 4:31 am |
I hate some of the characters that you are forced to tag along with, mostly because you are “FORCED” to follow their story. It’s impossible to play a role, because most NPC’s motivations/interests/quests are not the same as the PC’s. It’s especially tedious because you’re given dialogue choices that make it seem like you have a choice, dialogue that tries to provide the illusion that what you think counts. It doesn’t. This is the story, take it or leave it. What does the “R” in RPG stand for? Sometimes you don’t even get a chance to express your apprehension. It’s all 3 choices of the same “Yes sir!” in three different tones. Its more frustrating than real life, where at least you can say whatever you want and deal with the consequences. It’s worse than a boring movie, because you keep thinking maybe “this” game will be different and provide a freer more immersive world/plot. Why not just watch a boring movie? At least you won’t have the illusion that you can make it more interesting. Why can’t you agree to help Axle and then stab the thieving b*stard in the back? Isn’t that what thieves do?
After all that ranting, I must say, I still love RPGs, love the potential there, love the lore of the forgotten realms, love all the things they say you can do, (but can’t really do). Sadly I’m almost always sorely disappointed though. Great setting, but can we have some more freedom?
January 15, 2009 at 2:11 pm |
I just read this blog and the followup post by Diogo Ribeiro. It really made me think. In my mind BG II is the single greatest game ever, and NWN, I played through once, then put it on the shelf hoping never to see it again. To find that these two games share such a similarity is uncomfortable but I can’t deny it.
I love BG II’s side characters and the stories they bring but they are indeed more memorable than my Paladin. I’m thinking though, maybe I’m ok with that. Maybe I want that. I don’t know any more. As with most things in this world however, probably a mix of both is best. Times when “you’re the man” and times when you’re the wise/protective/caring number 2 to someone else’s story.
March 10, 2009 at 1:08 am |
I just found this blog and have been working my way backwards. I haven’t payed much attention to any of the comments (where I noticed them at all) but I found Mr. Ribeiro’s post probably more fascinating than the original entry. I hope it’s indicative of the progressing consciousness of game players as a whole, and would like to remark that BioWare, if they are to maintain their much deserved position as one of the few true mainstream icons of originality left in the industry, would do well to pay very close attention to it.
It is interesting that his commentary runs counter to the standard criticism of story telling in games. The reality is that the Player Character is the most powerful entity in the game world. By design, it is the action of the Player which causes everything to happen, leading to the perception that the Player is God. Indeed, in many roleplaying games by the time a Player is approaching the maximum level, he may well be the most powerful entity in the game, not only intrinsically, but by the rules of the game itself. Anyone who’s nearing the end of a game and decided to wipe out an entire zone of NPCs simply because they can knows this too well. This leads to the common criticism of narrative in video games — the player has too much control.
But Mr. Ribeiro has pierced to the heart of this matter — when we have full control, nothing we do seems to matter. By being so powerful, we are in fact made powerless. Being capable of the only meaningful interactions in the game, and capable of none of the meaningless ones, takes all of our hard earned importance and flushes it down the toilet.
At the end of the day, saving the world becomes inconsequential, and as such, boring. What we as humans seem to desire, in spite of our illusions, is not mighty triumphs of legend, but minor triumphs of personal significance.
I look forward to the day when games are capable of providing this.