Sunday, 18 February 2024
Deus Dead
Friday, 2 February 2024
Deus Dead
Thursday, 18 August 2022
"Lets do what Cyberpunk couldn't!"
Wednesday, 11 May 2022
So... Is Deus Ex happening or what?
Sunday, 5 September 2021
When Choices don't actually matter
Take Cyberpunk for instance, being a game that very much sold itself on being a heavily choice-driven experience, but which famously didn't live up to that nearly as much as fans wanted. One of the most commonly quoted points of contention is the 'origin' system, wherein players would get the chance to choose who their character was before the storyline and that would influence the way they would interact with the story. Similar to how a lot of the more hardcore RPGs function. However, that origin ended up influencing only the very beginning of the story and as the plot went on, people found themselves only really being given an influencing part in the main plot at very sparring moments. Most annoying for some, being the fact that some conversations would give you a chance to offer an alternative option (even requiring a skill check to be passed in order to raise the point to begin with) only for your opinion to be overturned in favour of where the game wants you to go. Presumably the option is just there for characterisation in showing how smart or capable the player is then? It mostly just frustrated instead.
Pillars of Eternity is a game that doesn't suffer nearly the same amount of narrative hatred, even though it does actually handle it's origin choices very similarly. In that when you select where you came from, what your species is, and what you do; oftentimes that comes up very rarely in conversation, and when it does it comes as mere flavour text that is then contributes nothing tangible to the actual scene or interaction. The sequel does a much better job of this, but in the first game the only point I can recall where something tangible can be done depending on what your character is, was in the very beginning of the game where you find some braziers which can only be lit if your character is a fire god-like. But even that doesn't make any sense because you actually find torches littered all over the place, why can't they light the braziers? Of course, the rest of the game has a lot of choices and branching quests independent of your character creation choices, so this is more a 'drop in the bucket' problem for Pillars, but Obsidian did take steps to rectify it for the next game so it was definitely a recognisable problem.
I've touched upon a bunch of different types of promised consequence met by disappointing payoff, and what I've landed on is that mostly successful payoff (like Deus Ex) relies heavily on choice that has a distinct effect rather than choice that merely adds flavour; but does that automatically mean flavour options are bad? Whenever I was playing the Pillars games and an option would pop up to indicate that the experiences I'd had or the options I'd selected in character creation, would give me a unique option, I'd pick it. Personally, I saw these not as new paths to through the narrative that needed to branch into new questlines, but just an expansion of who I was, providing a unique perspective that I wouldn't have otherwise gotten to experience. But I think the key is balance. Don't promise your game will be a choice-important romp if the majority of your choices merely add context that the other person would have shared anyway.
There are a lot more examples of choice versus consequence in the interactive story games out there, but I found a lot of those example to be much more situational and specific than what I was talking about here. Although I bet it would be fun to pick out some of those games and really go to town on the key choices of certain episodes, maybe I'll do that sometime. My view on things is that choices and consequences shouldn't ever really be the key selling point of your game, but merely some spice thrown in there to mix up the pot, provide some replay value. Because when you put the weight of the game on it, then you open yourself up to criticism about "But what about this moment where I couldn't choose?" or "Why didn't this choice mean as much as that one?" At the end of the day the tag is performative more than anything else, no one really wants to make a story where every element of it can be pulled apart my some scrappy player who thinks they know the best solution to every problem. It's the writer's story at the end of the day and is limited by the shades that they want to explore, maybe that's a reality that game's marketers need to be more cognizant to in the future if they want to avoid unnecessary disappointment.
Thursday, 17 December 2020
Mankind Divided and the Deus Exit.
Sunday, 1 December 2019
How RPG's can bring out a personality
I am an open book. Truly. That book may be little more than a dime-store novella, but it's clear and open none-the-less. I know exactly who I am and the metaphorical lines that I will draw in the sand when presented with ethical quandaries. I know the point to which I am willing and able to stand my ground and to which degree my innate, and overbearing, cowardice takes over. (Hint: it doesn't take much.) How do I know all this about myself? A combination of life-long candidness, too much time on my hands, and a love for that most illuminating of video game genre's; RPGs. (Two of those factors may feed into the other.)
What exactly do I mean by that? Well, me, I'm merely expressing my belief that games which shape themselves around player choice and consequence are ideal for introspective self-analysis. (Arguably in a very 'surface level' manner but y'all gotta start somewhere, right?) I credit this to the way in which many of the most popular RPG games of the age have endeavoured to stick players in scenarios which encourage difficult choices and labour them with little to no baggage, allowing for players to really immerse themselves into their characters in a practical and/or emotional manner. This is the concept that I intend to explore today. (With examples!)
The art of developing a difficult choice in a player driven narrative is both deeply taxing and rewarding. It demands the developer to explore multiple very appealing solutions to a huge problem, exploration that must be exhaustive in every regard. (Which is difficult for the standard person to achieve with their very biased minds.) And it is rewarding in that, when you go beyond the standard 'good' and 'bad' of a decision, you are left with a decision that branches into the personal politics of the player, with the potential to cut very deep from an emotional angle. Such a decision is not only just heavily revealing for an individual, but has the potential to haunt them for long after they put the controller down. (One of highest praises that a storyteller can achieve.) One such choice for me stemmed from a series known for it's difficult choices; TellTale's The Walking Dead Season 1 (spoilers impending).
Although, as I hinted, there are many head-scratcher decisions that divided fan bases, there is one in particular that resonated on a deeply visceral level with me. Namely the scene near the midpoint of the series when players are left deciding what to do with Duck. Duck is the annoying son of your closest friend in the game, Kenny, who's dumb kid antics has already led to one guy getting the chomp and almost endangered the whole party at one point. Despite that, he is still Kenny's Son, and when that kid ends up bitten it is becomes a difficult pill for the old lug to swallow. Even more difficult for his wife, who would rather shoot herself then have to harm her son (which she does.) leaving Kenny in an even more heartbroken state that hinders his ability to do what must be done. At this point the player is given the choice to encourage Kenny into mercy killing his own son or do it for him. I found that this choice in particular always wrestled with me as I struggled with the merciful decision and the concept of stealing away Kenny's last moment with his son. In one way, that is scenario that no father should have to go through, and yet it is also something that only a father has the right to do. Whichever direction that the player eventually falls on the issue, they are left with an insight into how they view such an abnormal situation which they, hopefully, would never have experienced otherwise.
Of course, situations like that work much better when paired with the 'blank slate' character archetype, which comes with it's own difficulties and rewards to bring to life. As puppeteers of the main show, it is fitting for games to put players in the shoes of the protagonist by depriving that leading character of all their back story and previous driving forces, allowing for the person to stick themselves into that blank space. The problem with this is that most great narratives tie story progression to character development, which can be difficult to achieve when your character pointedly possess no personality. Therefore balances must be struck in order to put players in the perfect place wherein they have empty shoes to fill and an emotional journey that promises to twist and jive in the future.
One such example of a game which famously did this to great success was 'Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic'. That story kicked off with players being shoved into the passenger quarters of a starship under siege by the Sith with no memory of how they got there or who they are. Whilst the 'suprise amensia' trope is painfully overdone in media, here it has a functional purpose (giving the players a blank soul to inhabit) and has a genuine reason for happening with a solid payoff down the line. (Which I will not be spoiling.) Other great RPG's have followed suit too, with 'Fallout: New Vegas' starting with the protagonist getting shot in the head, justifying that amnesia; and all the Elder Scrolls games starts with a nobody who's never achieved anything noteworthy in the lives, allowing for the audience to jump right in and change all that.
Finally, the most important ingredient in this recipe is 'immersion'. This is the way in which the game developers attempt to ground the player and contextualize them within this fictional world in order to encourage players to believe in this world and care what happens to it. This is the best way in which a game can accurately bring out an individual's personality as it can lightly trick them into believing the world in which they inhabit. There is no handbook to creating great immersion, but there are a few notable examples of some games and genre's that pull it off to great gusto.
The 'Immersive sim' genre is full of games that pull off great settings that tend to be, go figure, immersive. These are examples wherein the game is a narrative driven experience for which the player is along for every step of the way, including during the 'in-between' moments at home. Oftentimes these games involve players getting the chance to learn their neighbourhood and become familiar with their environment for an inevitable third act surprise attack. Dishonored had players trek around the Hounds Pit pub, Dues Ex had players regularly visiting futuristic New York and 'Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines' lets you stalk the LA shadows. That little touch of letting players familiarize themselves with their world is a subtle but handy immersive tool, as it gets them invested when their actions begin to change their little slice of that world.
All of these factors come together in the best RPG's in a manner which can, in the right circumstance, help tease out the particulars of one's personality. I say this as an individual who is, and has been, very shy throughout my life. I've always had trouble interacting with others for that initial leap, but once a conversation is started I can rattle off forever. My time with video games is partially responsible for that because they have made me more confidant in my personality and the cocksure arse that I can sometimes be. Which makes for a measurable change in my person from when I was a kid and entirely unable to sustain conversation altogether.
It might seem tenuous and pedantic to attribute such a growth in character to the subtle actions of video game developers and storytellers, but I have learnt never to underestimate the power of fiction to teach us things about ourselves. (Else I would never have discovered my own passion for storytelling.) Even as we play characters up on the screen or on a digital stage, we are playing shadows of ourselves with more shades of truth to them than fiction. That's not to say that, just because you have a habit of going on murder sprees in your RPG games, that such violent tendencies reflects your readiness to do the same in real life (we're not about to 'Jack Thompson' this up); but it does go to show your willingness to exploit an environment with little to no consequence, or explore a antithetical morality to your own. There's always something to learn about yourself in these kinds of games, you only need to pay attention and see.
Wednesday, 20 November 2019
Prosthetic Limbs
Limbs are very important to human beings. (Judging by Spore's economy I can personally attest to how much DNA they cost to unlock in the first place.) As such it can be devastating to lose a limb and be forced to readjust to simple life. Luckily, in this enlightened age of ours, there exist handy prosthetic replacements for our lost limbs which can sometimes be as sturdy and versatile as the real thing. 'As good as' isn't enough for video games, however, and for that reason whenever prosthetics make it to the video game world, they often come with so many bells and whistles that one might wonder if it's worth keeping our flabby weak human bodies when we can have some of these incredible creations.
Whether we have a story exploring the limits of humanity in transhumanist philosophies, or simply a game in which an Anime-esque hunk uses his robot arm as a baton; Video games are full of examples of this kind of body modification. I suppose developers can see it as a 'proof of struggle' to lose one's limb, as it can be one of the hardest injuries to overcome. However such developers also realize that few people want to play a game wherein they are subject to a disfigurement, and so out come the robot replacements. That might be a simplification but I'd wager that train of thought legitimately paid some role in the absolute deluge of prosthetic limbs we've seen in games.
One could not start a subject like this without starting with the grandfather of it all; Metal Gear Solid Peacewalker. (Huh, that's two mentions in one week. I might be having another relapse...) Fans might remember a very distinctive prosthetic arm in that game belonging to one- hold on- Vladimir Aleksandrovich Zadornov. (Phew, that's a mouthful.) When first introduced he appears to be a humble college professor travelling with his innocent schoolgirl accomplice who's name is literally 'Paz', which is Spanish for 'peace'. (There's a secret cover story that's trying too hard.) There's only one problem, the man has a bright metal robot hand that doubles as a cigarette lighter. (You get that from grading papers professor?) By the time this incredibly suspicious man, who just happens to hire you to investigate an extra-legal CIA occupation, reveals himself to be a Soviet spy, no one in the audience can manage so much as a pity gasp. Unfortunately this particular prosthetic doesn't prove very useful for Zadornov. Once he gets shot by Big Boss, after attempting an incredibly ill-advised quick draw against 'the world's greatest soldier', he makes a last ditch go for Snake by launching his robot arm with it's built in rocket function (What? Your prosthetic doesn't have one?) only to completely whiff his target and hit the wall. A sad way to go for the world's most conspicuous infiltration operative.The arm, however, lived on. In the prequel to MGS V, 'Metal Gear Solid: Ground Zeroes', Snake is caught in a helicopter crash that costs him his arm and rugged beauty. (Those scars might have some charm to them but the giant horn-shaped debris sticking out of his forehead will definitely cost him some Tinder matches.) But opportunity arises from tragedy as in 'Metal Gear Solid: the Phantom Pain' his old rival, Shalashaska, (colloquially known as Revolver Ocelot) gives him a replacement arm that is known as 'The Bionic arm'. (Probably because 'The Phantom Limb' made too much sense.) This arm is modelled directly off of Zadornov's, for some reason, all the way down to the red paint job. Player's can even unlock the ability to launch it from their arm down the line, just like the 'professor', except Snake's comes with remote control. (That's how you avoid looking like an idiot, Zardornov, by firing your forearm at your combatants instead of your very functional firearms.)
Okay, so I've never played Devil May Cry 4 (I own it, I'm just a lazy piece of poop) but as far I understand it, there is a point wherein the adorable little cherub Nero has his arm sawn off through means that have never been explicitly discussed. (Bummer.) Rather then settle down and live off his impending disability benefits, Nero lived up to his name-sake and decided to secure a demonic replacement known as Devil Bringer. (Maybe not officially a prosthetic but I'm counting it!) In DMC 5, the platinum haired Nero loses this demonic gift and is forced to replace it with a robotic arm called Devil Breaker. This one has the ability fire unearthly demon beams at enemies, pull them over Scorpion-style in order to prolong a combo, and make it explode. (As you do.) However, Nero is in luck because some charitable soul decided to scatter levels with replacement arms, for some reason. (I guess the NHS are over funded in the DMC universe.)
Of course, there is one classic video game character who's prosthetic is so iconic that most forget he even has it, despite the fact it's really hard to ignore a huge black man with a Vulcan minigun for an arm. As I remember it is never explicitly explained why Barret has his minigun arm, nor why his former friend entrusted him with the raising of his daughter in spite of that aforementioned child-unfriendly implement. Whatever the reason, it means that Barret Wallace if often a stable of any team makeup for FF7 due to his useful ranged attacks and his tankiness. (Primarily for the tankiness.) It sure is encouraging that the Shinra of Midgard allow a man who should be classified as a weapon to walk the streets unhindered. (I bet he doesn't even get stop searched.)
On a more philosophical note 'Deus Ex Human Revolutions' proposed an interesting question; if your body was damaged to such a degree that you required a body worth of robotics in order to live, are you still human? (The ol' 'Ship of Thesus' question. ) Every part of Adam Jensen's body is redesigned by David Sarif into tools for hunting down those that kidnapped legendary scientist Megan Reed. Adam is forced to confront a body he doesn't recognize in a world torn by prejudice against the mechanically enhanced as he unravels the world's deepest cabal. (God, I sound like a movie announcer.) Honestly, this is one of my favourite examples of transhumanism in gaming and I sure hope that Jensen's story gets a third game to round out the story. (For the love of god, Square, I'm begging you!)Tactical revolution, 'Xcom: Enemy Unknown', encountered some controversy regarding prosthetics when it came to envisioning their expansion/new release: 'Enemy Within'. This arose because the new 'mech units', who were designed to balance against the powerful Alien robotics from the late game, had to be piloted by individuals without arms or legs. (So that the mech suit could act as a replacement.) This meant that those who wanted to turn their soldiers into mech units would have to opt them into a procedure to have their limbs removed and replaced with metallic supplements. At the time there was some hubub by those who thought this was 'glorifying body mutilation', but then there were people who claimed that Xcom 2's badass Alien-head wall was 'unhygenic' so I don't but much stock in the word of outrage warriors.
Hold on. Another Metal Gear mention? I've gone mad with power! As it turns out, there is yet another example of prosthetics in Metal Gear, although this one did go a little overboard. Anime schoolboy stand-in, Raiden, was far-in-large the least cool member of the Metal Gear cast after his debut in Metal Gear Solid 2. Especially in the way that they replaced series icon Snake with a guy who is such a pathetic spy that his girlfriend is on the support line and repeatedly calls him by his real name several times over the airwaves. ("Jack, do you know what day it is?") Hideo Kojima amended this by replacing most of Raiden's body with cybernetics in Metal Gear Solid 4 and having him literally wield a samurai sword into battle. (I'm fairly sure this counts as overcompensation.) In Metal Gear Rising Revengence, Raiden has even more bodyparts replaced and essentially becomes a murder fueled robot of death and destruction. (Without all the philosophical hints that Deus Ex implemented.) Throw in a line where cyborg Raiden utters that infamous line; "The Memes!" and Kojima may have created the ultimate life form.
Bizarrely this is such a common trend across video games that I had to leave out a few of the ideas that I had come up with. (The Sekiro arm is too similar to Devil Breaker anyway.) Personally, I do enjoy the hints of imagination that this particular cliche invokes, not just in gaming, but for story telling in general. That 'body horror' angle mixed with typical badass-ery is just the right blend of surreal cool to make me smile every time; and I look forward to see if future games with this idea, like Cyberpunk 2077, go the whole hog and show all angles, the cool and the weird, all in one package.
Thursday, 7 November 2019
In defence of: linearity
Every now and then there develops a trend in the world of gaming. Usually it spawns from something good and imaginative, just like any cliche, only to become repetitive and overused in no-time flat. In the early 2010's this was the fabled 'Multiple ending'. For a good few years it was genuinely considered lazy not to shoehorn some sort of branching ending into your game, even when such was completely superfluous to the main story. If you don't believe me on that, do you remember how Call of Duty Black Ops 2 had multiple endings? That's right even the big boy in the playground, Mr "Too big to fail", succumbed to the trend of passionless multiple endings for fear of looking silly amongst his peers.
During this whirlwind of a fad, there was one obvious casualty amidst the gaming archetypes of the age. Namely, those games that choose to go for a single ending. This was the age in which such a direction in design was considered a crime towards creativity, and all those that were guilty of such would be labelled with that most damning of brands; 'Linear!' I'm being serious, look back on games of the early 2010's and check reviews from all the trusted critics. Almost all of them would bring up the phrase 'Linear' and use it as a pejorative to throw at the game. Afterall, games are all about empowering the player, so if you don't account for that one time they punched a jellyfish in the face and bring it up in the ending, you're stifling the player's freedoms! (Or at least, that's what I assume the logic was.)
The thing which always got to me was the fact that there is nothing inherently wrong with being 'Linear' with your story. In fact, usually that isn't a sign that you lack the creativity to expand out your story, but more that you posses the focus to fully realize your intended story. Many great games from around this time were all out attacked for their linearity despite handling it incredibly deftly. Sure, there's some overly noir moments in 'Max Payne 3', but the linear story was a blast. (I still maintain that game was the closet we ever came to a good Die Hard game). Assassin's Creed Brotherhood met with some grumblings in this regard despite being arguably the best written (and in-arguably the best paced) entry in the series. And even 'Bioshock: Infinite' only managed to get people to say that the story was 'good, for a linear title'.
Everytime I saw a review like that I would just grimace and bear it, confused by this mass hysteria that I fundamentally didn't understand. Even back then I could see how multiple endings for video games rarely lived up to the promise they made, if not now then in the future. Who remembers the GTA V ending? (Spoilers) That ended with Franklin being given the choice to off Trevor or Micheal in order to save himself. (And, of course, there was the option to rally against the man handing this ultimatum and risk everyone. Guess which ending everyone choose.) Whilst this initially looked interesting, in hindsight it was really rather shallow as the only ending which makes any remote sense is the one in which they kill off Trevor. You know, the guy who's insane antics got them in this position to begin with. The other two endings felt nigh-on nonsensical (Like the one in which Micheal opts to kill himself rather than be saved by Franklin.) or a bit too cleanly wrapped for a tale about 3 murderous bankrobbers. (It's a setup.)
That isn't even the worst of it. Just look at those games that were praised for offering those genuinely distinct endings which inexplicably granted real power behind the player's decision; Like 'Deus Ex: Human Revolution'. That was a game which placed itself in a precarious situation by being a prequel, in that it came from a franchise renowned for it's branching endings and yet would have to adhere to the state of the world in the original Deus Ex. To solve this, the writers ended up focusing on a supremely important but underexplored portion of the original game's lore, The Illuminati, and focused that final decision around them. This allowed for a final choice that gave the player the power to change the world in significant ways without retconning anything. (Supremely clever!) So what was the problem? Well, 'Human Revolution' was a huge success and warranted a sequel. So what did Square Enix do? Simple, they invalidated their own endings and choose one for the player in order to facilitate a franchise. (One which they then bundled with the narratively underwhelming 'Mankind Divided') So that shows you how much those 'multiple choice endings' are worth when it comes up against making money.
At the height of all this nonsense, there was one legendary linear narrative driven game that proved how one could follow a single storyline and still be caught up in the moment. (Something that shouldn't have needed to be proven, but here we are.) This of course being the story of Neil Druckmann's The Last of Us and way it used the setting of a post apocalypse to tell... well, the kind of story that the post apocalyptic genre was created to tell. (It's actually surprising how many zombie stories mistakenly make it about the zombies.) This absolutely shot through the gaming award shows of the age and won award after award for storytelling, all without giving us a red, green, blue scenario at the end. In fact, the game even has the guts to have the protagonist enact a highly controversial action at the end of the story that players have no recourse to prevent. Allowing for a powerful moment to remain powerful instead of doing what Rockstar did with GTA V. (That finale would have actually been somewhat poignant without the choices.
Obviously I disagree with the labelling of 'Linear' as a pejorative and feel that more modern games shouldn't be afraid to tell one story that they know how to tell. Nowadays the problem isn't quite as widespread as it used to be, it's almost a novelty to get multiple endings in a triple A game today; but Horror games are still very much beholden to it. (Even 'Fnaf: Help Wanted' had multiple endings. That was just a VR game, for god's sake!) I'll always maintain that it is stupid and contrived to artificial force any storytelling element into a narrative that doesn't require it, and the sooner that lesson takes hold in the industry the sooner we can start improving the net quality of video game storytelling.
Thursday, 25 July 2019
In Defense of: In-game lore books
This subject is a weird one. It's one of those 'Blogs I'd didn't think I'd ever have to write' kind of situations. Let me explain. I like lore. A consequence of being such an ardent fan of high fantasy role playing games, I suppose. (I became use to reading hours worth of text in order to flesh out the story behind the peculiar shape of that pond over there.) Lore gives me the opportunity to immerse myself in the fictional world's I play in and come to believe in the people who live there. I've likely said this before but immersion is the make-or-break for fantasy, if I'm going to invest one iota of caring into your narrative you better be sure to immerse me first. This is achieved by establishing a solid main story and expanded through the use of expository lore books scattered about the place to answer those questions that you never thought to ask.
So maybe someone can explain to me why it is that people seem intent on abolishing the practise of in-game lore books altogether. Every now and then, I come across another one these baffling articles where critics tear into in-universe written works. 'It's lazy' some say 'It takes too much time to read' conclude others. For some reason there are people who seem to think the act of reading should be relegated only to the medium of books and nothing else. These are the same kinds of people who gawk at the fact that cut scenes still exist, claiming that they are the product of indolent storytellers. (I'll touch more on that subject at a later date. Can't get too worked up now.)
Let me start by making one thing abundantly clear; there is nothing wrong with the basic concept of in-game lore books. I'm not going to claim that they are all high-art or the pinnacle of story telling, but I will say that some lore books fit perfectly into their world. As for the complaint that taking the time to sit back and read some lore, 'detracts from the action', I would have to refute that maybe RPG's just aren't your game. If you are so bloodthirsty that you cannot stomach a peaceful moment of reading, perhaps DOOM might be more your cup of tea. Although 2016's DOOM does have lore entries in it as well, Egads!
I'm being a little bit unfair. I realise that some people object to being forced to sit down and read, and to be honest, I do to. I would prefer to read when I want to and stick my sword in someone's guts when I'm more in the mood for that. But the important thing to remember when it comes to lore books, (Or at least for those that are implemented properly) is that they are entirely supplementary to the core narrative. Rarely do game developers seriously expect their audience to sit down with a pen and paper and study their texts. Lore books are meant to be flavour material for the world just like world clutter and artwork. That's why these large RPG makers employ studios dedicated to managing all of this lore work, because it doesn't need to be handle by the core Dev team. So unless they've encountered a game that has literally held them hostage on the page, I find their arguments a little bit silly.
To demonstrate what I mean, let's focus on game series that is just dripping in excess lore; The Elder Scrolls. Ever since 'The Elder Scrolls 3: Morrowind', Bethesda have been dedicated to making the land of Tamriel seem as real as possible by fleshing out the world with lore books. These lore books have increased in number in every entry to the point where there is enough reading material in these games to fill a library. (That library would be full of 6 page long books but it would still be full.) Bethesda even had to form a lore department to make sense of it all and, crucially, to be capable of pronouncing the names of Dwarven ruins.
The Elder Scrolls' lore is undeniably expansive, but do you know what else it is? Entirely optional. The Elder Scrolls games are all open world RPG's that are developed with the core idea of player freedom. You are allowed to go practically anywhere and forge whatever story you so choose. Because of this, it is impossible to localise your lore writing efforts into crafting exposition that is relevant to the player and their situation, because they could be doing literally anything. As such, the lore team just try to flesh out as much as they can about the world around you through a variety of different lore books. You have history books, play scripts, nature books, written notes, journals, theology books and, my favourite, story books. This approach also allows the lore writers to focus in on the specific region in which that game is set, helping to establish cultural themes in the works. 'The people of Skyrim are considered brutish dullards so lets make some books that riff on that idea'. 'Dark Elves are considered irritable so lets try to capture that in this letter'. It's just another way the team at Bethesda make their world feel unique, diverse and lived in.
On the other end of the spectrum to that 'write about everything' approach is much more targeted and specific use of lore books in games like Deus Ex. The world of Deus Ex is a very complicated one, despite very much resembling our own. The transhumanist dystopia that we see presented in 2000's Deus Ex did not spring out of our world overnight, there is a lot of history explaining every step of the way. Not all of this history would make sense to include in the main character's dialogue. Imagine how clunky it would be if Joseph Manderly just said "Hey Denton, did I ever tell about the history of augmentations?" (Sheev would have to file a lawsuit.) Instead Eidos utilises little datapads that offer snippets of insight into the wider the world.
This is different from Bethesda's approach because Eidos takes advantage of their relatively linear narrative progression. As the player gets further into Deus Ex, they might start to notice the clever way in which datapads they find will elucidate matters that are about to become very relevant in the main story. Like the introductory pamphlet on UNATCO you receive briefly before you go to speak with UNATCO's director, a.k.a your boss. Or that strange datapad that brings up the topic of 'Grey Goo' before you are tasked with deciding the technological path of humanity's future, for which it would be prudent to take the 'Grey Goo' theory into account. By hooking the expository lore into the wider narrative, Eidos provides the player with the opportunity to dive into the complex issues around them with some understanding about the matters at hand. That goes a long way to making that player care about the stakes of the story.
Those were examples of games that utilised lore to great effect. But that doesn't automatically mean that all properties know exactly how to use it, just look at Destiny. Whenever anyone has a complaint about lore entries in gaming it feel inevitable for Destiny to come up. And for good reason. Destiny is set in a science-fantasy future wherein resurrected human beings known as Guardians protect the remnants of humanity from hoards of alien pirates, space wizards, and a dark entity so abstract that the writers dropped it for the sequel. Destiny is a game with narrative problems. Huge, gaping, narrative problems. Despite being originally marketed as a high-concept Halo successor, Destiny ended up as a shallow, feature light, time waster that has consequently negatively tainted the moniker of 'Looter shooter'. And the way Bungie handled the lore is a big reason for this.The main purpose of lore in gaming is to create the illusion of substance in your fictional world, thus aiding the act of immersion. As such, the method the player uses to acquire and read that lore is a little detail that is incredibly important for the final effect. The Elder Scrolls gives you lore in the form of books and parchment, like one would expect from a medieval fantasy world. Deus Ex uses holographic datalogs, just like I expect we'll all be using in our sci-fi transhumanist future. Destiny used an app. On your real life smartphone. That means in order to take a look at the lore that you unlocked, lore that we just established exists to immerse the player, Bungie expected players to stop playing the game and bring up their smartphone app. That is literally genius levels of misguided. I'm not even mad.
All of this culminates up to Destiny's biggest issue. Bungie seems adamant to smother the game in lore to avoid maintaining a story. All the cleverly placed, targeted datalogs in the world isn't going help if your world isn't interesting to start with, and Destiny's world is dull. The problem isn't that the concept itself is weak, I actually think there is huge potential in an epic science-fantasy series. Star Wars managed to turn their epic science-fantasy into a ludicrously successful franchise. But they didn't do that by bringing out the extended universe books before they established a solid story with likeable characters. Destiny has no likeable characters. And if you're about to say 'What about Cayde-6?', I'll remind you that I said 'characters' not 'sarcasm recepticles'. (We've got enough of those in Britain already.) What remains is a hollow world without a heart that no one really cares about beyond 'How can I improve my DPS.' And that does not make a solid foundation for a series. Unless your 'Borderlands', in which case it absolutely does.
First is their presentation. Neither series makes the error of relegating lore to a companion app, (Still can't believe they did that.) but they do shuffle away lore pages into the game menus, requiring players to pause the action in order to read about the world. It is a little bit immersion shattering for the casual player. Heck, I love the games and even I sigh everytime I have to scrolls through menus and tabs to read that book I just picked up. Then comes the content. Again, not pretentious drivel like Destiny, but just bad enough. Mass Effect's lore is the better of the two, full of the technical details that lend some credibility to the technological foundations of their sci-fi world. But just read what I wrote again; The lore features 'Technical details'. This means that there are those times when you'll find yourself struggling to keep your eyes open as you read the opening sentence to the 'Biotic barrier' entry for the eighth time, somehow understanding it less with each re-read.
Then there is Dragon Age's lore logs, >Sigh<. I love Dragon Age, I really do. And there is a lot of really good, interesting lore pieces in these games. The entries about the fundamental laws of magic are essential for anyone interested in that part of the Dragon Age universe. (Even when the games themselves do proceed to break those laws. Especially the one about teleportation.) My problem isn't with these interesting entries. My problem is with the lore entries that are poetry. You read that right. Poetry. And song lyrics. Arguably the same thing, definitely as bad as each other. It is such a shame for a game that features so many exciting storytelling elements, diverse characters and believable world building, to include this kind of lore too. It's as though Tolkien came back to write a brand new epic fantasy but he insisted on inferring the worst parts of Lord of the Rings in there as well, for posterities sake.
I shouldn't have to explain why 'poetry' and 'song lyrics' make for bad addendums onto your lore, but here we are. Firstly, songs are fine for lore. Actually, songs are great, They are a fantastic way to confer the culture of the world to your audience whilst telling them a story. You learn so much from songs. How do these people sing? What kind of instruments do they use? What would these people sing about? It add a layer of mystery whilst simultaneously unfurling that enigma for you to hear. It's effect on world building is... indescribable. That is just the magic of music, I guess. Song lyrics are just words. Fancy rhyming words, but words all the same. I have no idea how the tune goes, what the rhythm is or what the tempo should be. When the player is given song lyrics they've basic just been given a confusingly parsed story, and as I've said, cohesion is important. Poems are much the same, only the morale is usually even more obscure. I'll admit I'm saying this as someone with a very muted love for poetry but I still doubt I'd like this practice even if I was a poetry aficionado. Actually, I might like it even less if I was also judging the quality of those poems. Ultimately, the lore suffers due to an inherent lack of cohesion, like I keep writing. All that said: 'Sera was never' is still a jam.
At the end of the day, there is nothing wrong with the core concept of in-game lore books. In fact, I would argue that it is one of strengths of the gaming medium that we can dive into and explore non-essential aspects of the surrounding world without derailing the plot. You couldn't go into the history surrounding the formation of S.H.I.E.L.D in the middle of 'Captain America: Winter Soilder', even if that could be helpful for understanding some of the finer details of the story. But you can take the time to read about the swordsmanship of Serkonos in Dishonored 2, because Video Games can be as long as you need them to be.
Accepting the wider fictional world of you story doesn't exactly delineate the plot, but it does go a long way to help enrich it. Immersion is a game of give and take; the audience give their trust into the world that the writers have envisioned and in return those writers give little reasons why that trust is well placed. That is all plot is, the creators side of the transaction. If lore books are a useful tool for conducting that transaction then I think that they should be championed not ridiculed. So if you're one of those people who scoff at the idea of reading in games, I would urge you to take a look at the material again and see if the narrative value those words contain outweigh the time cost of a couple minutes. You may just change your tune.






















