I'm finally understanding Minecraft Legends

 I can see clearly now

Not too long ago Microsoft finally worked it's way around to doing what literally every other major video game publisher is doing and mounted it's very own reveal trailer showcase. For some strange reason the showcase shared a name with Bethesda, which makes me wonder what exactly such a show would look like if that Activision buy-out ever goes through, (The Bethesda-Microsoft-Activision/Blizzard showcase!) even though we got no further word on the huge upcoming Xbox exclusive game which is said to be landing before Q3 of this year! But what the event did manage to do was clear up a lot of confusion on some of the titles that never quite got explained all that well over the past year- one of which was Minecraft Legends which, I'll be honest, I had no idea what to make of when I first saw it. I mean I liked it, I liked most every Minecraft related spin-off, but I couldn't explain what the thing actually was to someone else. Now, after an extended gameplay presentation like that; I can recognise the RTS game for what it is.

That's right, Legends is a Minecraft RTS in the vein of Starcraft, Red Alert and... Army Men RTS. A genre which goes quite a way back for me personally as one of those styles of strategy game that is just deep enough to permit exploration into higher game theory concepts, whilst still accessible to the point of being new-comer friendly. I find a lot of the more complicated 4X games and bigger concept grand strategy titles can sometimes become so lost in their micromanagement that unless you've been drawn into the thrill of the game at an obsessive level it can be difficult for a layman to really get into those sorts of game and learn all the requisite counter units and basic unit placement etiquette. Simpler RTS games, like I can only assume Minecraft Legends is aspiring to be, are typically built for balance and intuitiveness. Wherein units and foils are obvious, building hierarchy and fortifications fit together naturally and a fresh player can grow to love the game without spending hours memorising the play manual beforehand.

The presentation we saw focused specially on the PVP aspect of Legends, which is an important component to any RTS game in the modern world and a vector worth exploring to ensure that Mojang know what they're doing. I'm not sure if Minecraft has ever actually had a dedicated 'player versus player' mode in any of it's main or spin-off games save the short-lived deathmatch servers built into Minecraft console edition. (I miss those.) Legends' take on PVP seems to play into the strengths of competitive RTS games that has kept those titles a popular niche genre for so long, resource nodes, diverse units, progressive material structures- the singular distinction only seems to be the fact that Legends presents a single focal unit as the viewing port of all the army management and base-building. Perhaps I'm merely seeing the trees instead of the forest and there actually is a wider map management view, but if there isn't I do have to wonder how the removal of a true tactical viewport might effect the development of genuine in-action strategy. Right away it makes the game feel a bit more like a Musou game than an RTS like it's supposed to be.

One unique aspect of Legends that dawned on me first in waves, before flooding over all of me in a sparkling wash of realisation for it's genuine potential is that of the world generation. Yes, the key most feature of Minecraft which is perhaps the main game's crowing jewel, the procedural generation of it's world, is getting some form of representation in Legends and depending on how it is realised this has a level of potential that no other RTS can match. Typically, map domination and knowledge is the life and death of any RTS professional player's game, with spontaneity and on-the-spot choices typically only entering the equation when in battle with an equal. But thrown in an aura of total randomness to the world and you suddenly tip everything on it's head. Preparation and preplanning become strategy-making and team-mate communication, routines fall away for fresh plans, unpredictability itself evolves and solidifies as it's very own opponent! Given the right attention and approach, I think this single throw-away mentioned feature has the singular potential to reinvigorate, and maybe even revolutionise, this entire genre of games!

Of course, that's only me talking about the online competitive aspect of Legends, what most will be flocking to the game for is the single player or co-operative campaign experience. What makes a great RTS single player campaign is, in my experience, a variety of scenario and challenge. Build a game like this right and the scope of the tactical gameplay and enemy AI adaptability itself should provide sufficient enough replay value, all the team needs to do is lay the right pieces and set the correct stages for that replayability to flourish. Minecraft is certainly limited in it's scope of enemies and locations from a glance, but Minecraft Dungeons proved well enough that Mojang aren't afraid to expand on their lore and mob variety in side games where it's much easier to throw in a brand new character mob without having to agonise over the way in which it's utility interacts with every existing system in the base game. And, indeed, we're already seeing brand new creatures in Legends, not least of which being the sentient barrel of arrows which serves as archers for the player to enlist. (Unique as far as RTS units go...)

What I do find myself worrying about however is the approach to difficulty that Mojang will employ, to both extremes. Because RTS, and tactical games in general, tend to be tricky endeavours for players in the way that they demand some level of understanding and careful exploitation of rigid systems, whereas Minecraft typically engenders an audience who thrive in 'find your own solution' styles of gameplay. Make a game like this too difficult and it can drive away at the readily presented audience, whilst make it too easy and players will come away inevitably feeling like Mojang failed to capture the full extent of possibility and potential that the game genre had. Of course, personally I would hope that Mojang favours the more richly complex style of gameplay, as I feel that just has longer legs to play around with, but I can see a world where that just isn't a consideration for the sorts of experiences that Mojang want to foster. At the end of the day it really comes down to how dedicated Mojang are to the spirit of these spin-off endeavours they launch.

I am quite taken with the somewhat unique approach to the typical Minecraft artstyle that Legends has chosen to employ. As most are familiar with the blocky supremacy of Minecraft, I'd imagine the slightly more stylised approach of Legends flies right by the majority of people. What I notice, however, is the leaner blocks around the Nether portal, the smoother lines of the overworld blocks that allows the split of block textures to mesh into a smoother more dominate 'ground' texture and the near cell-shaded gleam that allows structures to stand out from the world with their slightly thicker outlines. It's a pleasing side-step from the main Minecraft visual style that refreshes the eye and brings Minecraft in line with the sort of visuals that Mojang are slowly starting to introduce into the base Minecraft texture offerings. Ultimately, it reinforces how this is all very familiar, yet recognisably different, which I think is the point of all these Minecraft spin-offs.

Minecraft is always going to be a franchise I give a great amount of leeway too; it's too large a part of my childhood for me to treat it any other way. That being said, I really do like the look of this particular side-game, much more than I did Dungeons which never really was my style or genre of game to being with. There's a lot of versatility to Minecraft and many styles of game it can feasibly morph into, but the engine has limitations, even for the modders and large server game hosts. I love all of these side games for the amount of gameplay diversity they can offer whilst seeming like addendums onto the main Minecraft package, even if they are technically separate applications off the Minecraft launcher. Wherever could Mojang go next to expand the Minecraft horizons? Or a better question: is the next game going to be a Metroidvania platformer or a straight third-person Soulslike?

Minecraft Legends

 Another one...

For a very long, an utterly peaceable time period, Minecraft was the absolute pinnacle of it's own brand. A video game of limitless potential where players were thrown into a world with the tools to harvest it's very organs in order to build whatever their minds could conjure. It was a purity of concept and execution that could only be limited with the confines of genres and mechanics. Minecraft simply was, that was all there ever needed to be. Of course, in the pursuit of remaining fresh, Minecraft has remade and remodelled itself over the years and even the core game has, in my opinion, crossed the pale from a game that was instantly intuitive to one you need to navigate with the Wikipedia window constantly open, but the heart of that original premise is still very much beating; which is why I find it totally wild whenever the Minecraft brand tries to branch itself out.

No, I'm not ragging on the Lego Sets, or the merchandise or the >shudder< joke books- I'm talking about the various Minecraft Universe games that exist. Games like Telltale's Minecraft game: Minecraft Storymode. What turned out to be, in my opinion, a rather limp fantasy story loosely stretched over the Minecraft brand and playing vague lip-service to the very meta nature of the game they were working with. They treated Minecraft like a game only, when Minecraft is very much more than that. It's a foundation that, at times, feels close to a service, which could have facilitated a much more clever and outside of the box story had 'Minecraft: Story mode' been more ambitious. But then such is what happens when you try to box in a game of ultimate freedom into the confines of a basic 'heroes fight the villains' story.

Then again with Minecraft 'Dungeons' did the franchise try something different, and again it felt weird. Bringing in Diablo-style ARPG action with item looting and classes and the works; Minecraft Dungeons felt like a very polished game made using the Minecraft foundation that wouldn't have at all worked divorced from the context of the game it was working with. As it stands I think that dungeons is completely fine, but also utterly non essential. There's no real value imparted on the Minecraft brand beyond, I suppose, providing a better basic combat model than base Minecraft does. Oh, and throwing some cool enemy designs at us which would look great implemented into real Minecraft, but probably never will be. (The base game could use some more varied enemies in my opinion; give the Overworld some edge to it.)

And now we've been struck again with the arrow of 'try something new' now that Minecraft appears to have taken influence from games that were in turn influenced by them. 'Minecraft Legends' is another recontextualizing of the Minecraft foundations that bares a passing resemblance to Dragon's Quest Builders. (Which is, in itself, a Minecraft derivative.) There seems to be simple RTS mechanics and more narrative trappings slapped on to give this new gameplay purpose. This one, at least, holds some potential for tapping directly into the building and creative routes of Minecraft, albeit in a stunted and limiting manner, and it's already tipped to be the next bold frontier of the brand. I can't say I quite understand what it is that Minecraft is going for, but I respect the idea of 'widening appeal' at least.

Minecraft Legends tells the paint-by-numbers story of an invasion from the hellish forces of the Nether that needs to be repelled by hoards of minion creatures that the player can send to attack the fortifications of their foes. Players will be base building and forging fortifications, so that the Todd Howards in the crowd can find what they're looking for, and some mild terrain deformation if I've examined this trailer correctly. Of course in this early stage we have very little tangible information regarding the game's specifics and go only go through the snippets of gameplay offered in this reveal. We can't yet say the extent of the strategic elements and whether we'll be managing resource lines in order to funnel unit construction and a deluge of reinforcements. 

What we do know, and very much fitting this style of game, is that there will be PVP elements so that players can test their strategy skills against one another, and this is either an indication of the depth of Legend's strategic features or a total misstep on Mojang's part about what online strategy players want. Competitive strategy only really works when you have distinct styles of play, which can be as innocuous and happenstance as the method you choose to design to strategy (which is indicative of any old game in this style) to the distinct modals or characters that players will choose to become familiar with in order to provide buffs, bonuses or unique unit types. If they want a solid PVP offer, Minecraft Legends definitely wants to have the latter level of design complexities, but whether or not they'll bother rise to such occasions waits to be seen.

Now I am going to throw shade at the choice of having a central hero unit in battle, which sort of makes this look like a Musou game. In fact, very muck akin to Warrior games it seems that the hero not only rides at the head of his forces into battle, but can even take a swing themselves from atop their steeds. I think such a focus all to often drags attention away from the strategy and puts too much emphasis on the core leading individual. Something I noticed when I played 'Divinity: Dragon Commander' was how much more engaging it was to totally ignore the 'Dragon' mode and just play it as a pure RTS. I wonder how Legends will cater to people who want to play like that considering they've yet to even show us the requisite bird's eye camera view. Right now I don't even know if I can call this a 'my first RTS' style game, because Army Men RTS already covered that demographically neatly and with grace and Legends has yet to even match that in it's previews.

But even though I don't understand, nor entirely agree with Minecraft's perplexing attempts to branch out their genres; I respect the idea of trying to differentiate the Minecraft offerings. Beyond just generating flat revenue bumps for the Mojang team, these games allow for utterly fresh experiences to be had within the Minecraft ecosystem which keeps player within their blocky claws, which is undeniably beneficial to Minecraft's staying power outside of the core demographics. Fans of ARPGs and strategy games, including those too intimidated by being given a blank slate and told to do whatever they want, can find solace in these more focused experiences and for a world like Minecraft, the more people get involved the better. So I guess we'll have to wait and see how Legends ends up shaping. And pray that they get around to that Bird's eye cam. It's really important for an RTS!

It's the end of Minecraft Earth, as we know it

(And I feel fine)

Terrible news everyone; Minecraft Earth is shutting down! No, not the yearly convention wherein new updates for the popular build-em-up game are announced; I'm talking about Minecraft Earth: the mobile mixed-reality app. Minecraft Earth? Anyone? Really? See, I have this weird sort of fascination for those dead and dying game-adjacent ventures, and for the unique strange circumstances surrounding them. I like to find out whether we're talking about a sleeper hit that didn't take off, or a title that scared away it's consumer base, or one that was simply killed off for the sake of keeping company resources free. And that, of course, extends to games that I haven't even heard of before, like this Minecraft Earth thing; What's that all about? Literally the first I've heard of this app is it's last; and now, inexplicably, this thing has been bought alive in the world of my vision, captured in morbid fascination as it falls still in those final eternal moments. (Did I successfully manage to creep you out yet?) So let's take a look.

Minecraft Earth is a free-to-play augmented reality game bought out in late 2019 with the hopes of creating a platform for collaborative online creation and play within a virtual Minecraft overlay. Now to be honest, whilst I never heard of this game in my entire life, I did actually hear about the technology that makes it work, and that's because I first remember it being showcased giddily at a Microsoft showroom event about various alternate reality projects. I recall being amazed at the way a whole depth-realised Minecraft world could exist in the virtual, a whole layer that was just casually superimposed onto our reality, like something out of a David Cage game. For that very reason, I never really expected anything to come of it. I mean, most of what you see in those tech shows are just theoretical and functionally useless, all the really world changing applications are with-held until a army of patents can be written up, so we just get to see the weekend projects that some genius has tinkered with for half an hour as a hobby before deciding to go back to solving cold fusion or something.

And even if this were something that might be coming our way, I always figured it was space age tech; due in years, not months. But... now I come to think about it- I remember going into school the next day and talking to people about that event. Which means it was years ago, and therefore I was just a complete dunce who forgot the definition of 'exponential' when considering the growth of technology. Augmented reality is no longer space age stuff, in fact, we hardly even acknowledge it anymore. It's reached that point in general culture where if we don't quite understand how something works or functions we simplify it or loop it into a concept we understand. Instagram 'Filters' for example; quite a lot of them use Augmented reality, and we don't even bat an eye. Maybe the very fact I find that wild is indicative of my rapidly increasing out-of-touch nature. (I've never even been on TikTok. Oh god...) Whatever the case, this all means that it's not even remotely strange for something like Minecraft Earth to exist.

But what it is? Specifically? Well it's Minecraft Bedrock edition but superimposed into a free-to-play mobile format that has hints of resource collection, some mob fighting, and a crowing jewel of building within a mixed reality environment. As opposed to the showcase I saw when this was achieved through the use of that, still not as widely utilised as I'm sure the developers hoped for, Hololens thing; here anyone could go nuts building with the power of their phone camera alone. Although there's not a great deal of online video content on how the things works (weirdly) as I understand it, there would be certain 'buildplates' which people could make their builds on, and those creations would presumably be there for others to discover and work upon? I'm guessing here. As Free-to-plays go, there were a couple of currencies and likely some timeout mechanics in order to keep the lights on, but for the most part the game was apparently an invitation to creative freedom. So what went wrong?

Well just the other day the official Minecraft website received a forum post written the team claiming that their last update had just dropped and that support for the app would cease by June. And as this was an Online App, that means it will be unfunctioning after support ends, thus cutting off any potential scalper market that may arise. (I remember how much phones were selling for when the original Flappy Bird was killed off) But what was the impetus? Well, that could be anything under the sun to be honest, but before speculation begins we can start by assessing the official reason given in said announcement. There the team are rather upfront, the say that the app was made in a time where it made sense to encourage people to go out and explore, but given the recent worldwide pandemic that just isn't really an option anymore. Thus they thought it wise to reallocate resources (Oh look, one of my predictions was right!) and kill of Minecraft Earth. So basically they're going for 'the Quibi defence', "That Covid killed my app!", seems legit enough.

To believe the statement you have to acknowledge that the very raison d'être for the App is now redundant; communication and making friends with fellow Minecraft enthusiasts (so that you can spend money as a group) has been kyboshed. When you look at it like that, this actually makes a lot more sense than Quibi's failure, thus I'm actually inclined to take their word for it. However, I do know companies and company culture well enough to see when we're only being told most of the truth, because a lie based on truth is much easier to sell. So yes, I'll buy that the App couldn't be used as intended, but I doubt that's the reason the thing was killed off, I believe the very fact this App couldn't be used as intended likely led to a drop in active players to the point where it wasn't profitable, or not profitable enough, to keep the thing around anymore. let's me real, if the thing was still making money than they'd forget about "failing to live up to the vision" in a heartbeat.

Yet even if I'm right, there's is the question to ask of why this App didn't make it through the pandemic whilst other similar one's seem to be managing. It's no great secret that a lot of ideas which make Minecraft Earth work are borrowed from Pokemon GO, but whilst GO is undergoing a little underground renaissance of sorts, (thanks in no small part to their recent HOME integration) Earth is getting the boot. Now Niantic were surprisingly proactive when lockdowns started landing, implementing some features to help players with remotely engaging with the game, (Albeit, never quite enough to forgo the act of gratuitous travel) so that certainly helped somewhat. But I think this really comes down to situation and the way that Minecraft can afford swallowing a team into the wider group whilst letting their mobile venture fall to the wayside; very much unlike Niantic who's whole enterprise rests on Pokemon Go and that Harry Potter game which I hear some people actually play. (Each to their own) If Niantic had to eat some profits for a few months to stay afloat they'll damn well do it, but I'd imagine a corporate overlord like Microsoft (or maybe even Mojang themselves) wouldn't share such patience.

Of course, my words are speculative and my opinions are my own. Who's to say what bought Minecraft Earth down after a measly year and some change of life. (Although 'failure of vision' is a pretty flimsy excuse in my book) The facts are thus, an actually somewhat cool idea is getting the axe and that's a little bit of a shame; I always hate to see a project unceremoniously discontinued. Of course, this may lay the groundwork for such cool ideas to make their way elsewhere, because every ending is a beginning and all that, so let's not let this be so dour, shall we? I suppose at the end of the day the only real surprise in this, the very fact I was interested at all, is because a venture baring the Minecraft name didn't blow up like you'd expect. Isn't that a headscratcher? It makes me wonder if there's room in the world for that 'Minecraft Killer' Hytale afterall...

One life mode

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow.

One of the most appealing features of gaming in general, at least in my eyes, is the distinct lack of consequence that the whole thing incurs. Whereas performing an action, or not doing so, in the real world has very tangible consequences, (most of which are usually negative in my experience) in video games you are free from that struggle by way of metaphysical detachment. Even the most dedicated 'your choices matter' video game doesn't have any bearing on your actual life because at the end of the day you can just scrap everything and go back to the beginning, a boon that we don't share as boring mortals.

There are those games, however, that do not abide by the general wistful rules of gaming and seek to impart the cold permanence of mortality upon our one receptacle of relief. (Gee, thanks guys.) These are the sorts of games that I find myself coming back to time and time again, as they come to tear you up about what could have been. Or, they make death a lot more meaningful by requiring players to restart everything should they die. (I thought we transcend those kinds of games ever since 'The Legend of Zelda' and saving.) Today I want to look at the appeal of these types of games and why it is a gimmick that I don't see dying out anytime soon. (See what I did there? It was unintentional too!)

One of the most famous examples of the 'one life' genre of games would be the 2010 browser based pixel game known as 'One Chance'. Chances are that if you spent anytime consuming Internet culture around this time then you'll have heard of this little indie gem, partially due to the fact that it is readily available for anyone to play on flash hosting sites like 'Newgrounds'. But just to recap, 'One Chance' tells the story of a man who is a month away from the end of the world and has one chance to stop it. It is a highly narrative driven experience showing the breakdown of this individuals life as the world start to crumble and giving the player's a little ounce of choice along the way. Once players reach their conclusion, however, they'll have cottoned onto the fact that the title is double-edged. The protagonist has one chance to save the world and the player only has one chance to play the game. Whatever ending you finish with is yours forever and there is no 'do-overs' or second chances ever. (Unless you clear your cookie history, but let's not break the illusion of permanence.)

Minecraft and Terraria are two games built around an incredibly simple premise, you are alive in a hostile world and must do your best to survive and thrive. Minecraft very much takes this in a direction whereupon players will end up going on great builds and carving themselves out a home and Terraria more has player's amassing weaponry to battle various deadly and terrifying foes. What both these games have going for them is the fact that, despite being very long-form experiences, they both have a 'hardcore' tag when creating the world. What this little option means is that the second your avatar kicks the bucket, their world is immediately deleted and all your progress is wiped. Obviously, this has the effect of making player's a lot more careful in how they play the game, however, in an endless adventure like Minecraft and Terraria, it's more an act of delaying the inevitable. Some fans like the extra layer of tension that this piles on top of the gameplay, but few would suggest this sort of experience for the casual player.

Speaking of 'Hardcore modes', how about we take a look at the franchise that is often credited with coining the phrase, the Diablo games and it's ilk. These endless dungeon crawlers are built around the cyclical gameplay loop of fighting hoards of ever more powerful monsters and amassing ever more powerful loot sets and abilities. This perpetual grind is often intersected by droplets of story and big, climatic boss battles, but the main draw of this genre comes from the balance between the predictable acting in unpredictable ways. In this manner it isn't too often to find oneself being slayed by enemies that you know well because you failed to pay attention when you needed to, and if you turn on the 'hardcore mode' that practically all of these games have, then that will be the end of your journey. For a series as 'dark' as Diablo and it's imitators, this concept actually fits in rather nicely to their world of heresy, violence and death. I suppose then, the only question is whether or not the player is brave enough to put themselves through that trial.

Bethesda have dedicated a portion of their efforts to reviving some of the long dead games of yesteryear, most prominently the 'Wolfenstein' and 'Doom' Games. Both of their titles earned stellar new revivals in the modern age and reintroduced current FPS fans to games back when they were still largely hard as nails. With that it mind, it shouldn't be surprising that both games feature their very own  'one life mode' in 'Mein Leben' and 'Ultra Nightmare' respectively. Both of these difficulties are like the crème de la crème of hardcore challenges, as they encourage people to slog through a heavily narrative-driven story and set pieces both without dying once or even quitting out. That's right, there's not even any checkpoints in either gamemode to exploit, that's real hardcore!

The concept of one life difficulties largely stems from the pursuit of accolades from the gaming habit. It's a covenant with one's self to prove that you posses both the tenacity and skill to overcome everything in a modern game. Some look upon this as bringing back some of the habits and traditions of old-school gaming (before Saving was invented) but honestly, with the lengths to which gaming and game design has evolved since the traditional consoles, these challenges are often much more brutal. But by overcoming odds that are honestly insurmountable for a great many, like playing through a 20 hour FPS campaign without dying or taking breaks, one can bask in the glory of having achieved something honestly commendable. (Or something easily ridiculed. Depends on the eyes of the beholder, I guess.)

As a life long glutton you'd think that a concept like this would be right up my street, but honestly 'hardcore modes' might just be that bit too much even for me. I really do cherish the ability to go back and fix a mistake, depriving me of that opportunity does have the knock on effect of sucking a lot of fun out of games as they just become tense stressful nightmares. Even modes which overly restrict gaming, like Fallout 4's survival mode, grates at my fragile sensibilities. That being said, I do understand the appeal, as much as any outsider can, and hope more big name games accommodate for those sorts of playstyles in the future.

In defence of: Survival Modes in games

We do many things to survive. Even die.

Been a while since I've done one of these, so what better way can I settle back into my rhythm then by jumping into the deep end. Today I want to debate about a feature that is often spat on by the general gaming audience. Yep, I'm defending 'Survival modes' today. First let me start by saying that this isn't a feature that I defend wholesale. I definitely believe that is an artistry to these modes and much of the bad blood the public has towards them stems from those who blunder these mechanics. Therefore I will be covering both good and bad examples.

When people say 'Surivial mode' it usually means a couple of things. Firstly, that the game will feature some sort of resource collection gameplay, (and sometimes a crafting system) and secondly, that the player will be beholden to more than just their HP gauge. How this develops into a fulfilling gameplay experience depends entirely on the quality of the implementation and the type of core game it's being stuffed into. Oh, and this genre is distinct from survival horror in that resources usually aren't too scarce/finite. With those definers in mind, lets go all the back to 2011 for our first entry

Everyone's heard of Minecraft, right? It's that quaint little game about building whatever your little heart desires in a lovely blocky world with nothing at all to trouble you. Except for the very real possibility of being eaten by the hoards of zombies, shot to pieces by the legions of skeletons, mummified by the clutters of spiders or blown into little chunks by the... creepers. (Darn it, they don't have a collective noun.) Or, as of Minecraft's 2011 Adventure update, starving to death.

Somewhere along the way Mojang thought that Minecraft needed survival mechanics in order to truly come alive, and so they tested it out 8 years back and it was so successful that the fundamentals haven't significantly changed in all that time despite constant support. The game features two hunger counters, one symbolized by a bar (hunger) and another that is invisible but affects that bar (Nutrition). By keeping the bar full (though satisfying both counters) players enable the ability to sprint and regen health, but risk losing those buffs should they let their stomach go empty. Luckily, Minecraft's core build-it design means that players have little trouble keeping up with food requirements as they can easily put a farm together.

Minecraft's survival mode is simple but effective, adding an extra layer onto the gameplay without sacrificing the game's fun. There are plenty of crops and livestock in the game to support the survival mechanics and Mojang are adding more every year. Honestly, it's almost impossible to imagine Minecraft without this survival aspect in today's day and age, because it marries the package of the game together so deftly that it feels like it has always been there. If only all games pulled off their survival modes with such grace.

The next topic I want to cover is not so much a game as it is a concept. You see, Rust, Day Z, H1Z1 and all those other steam survival games are all ostensibly unique games, but at their core they are all identical experiences that suffer from the same pitfall's. Back around 2013 there were a spate of games that all jumped on the 'surival' bandwagon in order to put out a deluge of low-effort trash that has forever sullied the name of survival games. (As well as Steam curation in general) To be fair, the three games that I mentioned are not examples of the low-effort copy cats, but rather the archetypes that these games all tried to emulate, however, that doesn't make these game's survival mechanics good.

Honestly, I don't know why survival was so popular around this time giving how poorly it was implemented in these products. Pick up any of these dime-a-dozen survival games and you'll find the same thing; a barebones concept-less third-person experience wherein the only gameplay is scavenging, crafting and surviving. Almost sounds like Minecraft right? Except Minecraft had a robust core, solid mechanics and actual talent under the hood. What makes these games particularly infuriating is the fact that their survival modes are never optimized to be fun. Food and water drain at such a rate that one will spend all their time worrying about maintaining their bars rather than experiencing what little game there is. This makes the survival mechanics an abject hindrance to the player rather than an interesting challenge.

Even some more well focused and thought out games have suffered from this kind of thing, such as early versions of We Happy Few. Back before that game came together, Compulsion games put together a public demo that consisted of the stylistic themes they were reaching for but with none of the substance. Fans who were excited about all the previews came away with a bad taste in their mouth after they realized that the game was chock-full of status bars and seemed to be more a bar management Sim rather than a pseudo-Bioshock successor like the previews implied. (Although to be fair, even when the devs did reshuffle the content into a decent game it still wasn't a Bioshock successor in any way shape or form.)

It seems that survival modes have a time and place where they are appropriate, and more often than not they can be detrimental if misplaced. This can make it hard to predict what survival systems will enrichen a game and which will hinder it. If you had asked me at the time of release whether or not a Survival mode would make Skyrim Special Edition a better game, I would have bawked at the concept and laughed in your face. (Which is to say, I would think 'no'.) However, the survival mode offered by Skyrim Special Edition's Creation club (Whatever you think of the service itself) is simply perfect for the game.

I remember the slight disappointment from the community back before Skyrim released when Bethesda confirmed that they weren't working on a survival mode. (Following the success of another game's mode. One which I may be bringing up later...) It seemed that the icy tundra of a medieval viking land seemed like the perfect setting for a hunter/gatherer sub-game, but Papa Todd said no and Papa Todd knows best. (Or does he?) Fast forward to Skyrim's rerelease; Special Edition, and one of the first pieces of extra content added to the game is a fully functioning and enjoyable survival mode.

One of the benefits of this mode is the fact that Bethesda didn't forget the defining characteristic of the land of Skyrim whilst designing it; that being the fact that the land is cold. Yep, that means that whilst hunting for food and managing your non-regenerative health bar, (An absolute godsend to lovers of challenging fights!) you must contend with the viscous cold too. Spend too long outside and your movements will start to slow, remain out there and you'll start to die. Skyrim's ailment system also means that you can afflicted with a prolonging case of frostbite even after you warm up, or 'addlement' if you avoid sleep too long.

One issue I do have is the fact that some bar's inflict punishments that are too harsh right off the bat, making it essential that you keep them fully charged at all times. (Slightly defeating the point of having a progressive bar decay system.) Missing out on even a little bit of hunger slows down you weapon attack speed. In a melee focused game that is a freakin' death sentence, I have no idea what Bethesda were thinking with that one. Other than that, I love the bars, the lack of natural health regen and disablement of map-based fast travel. (Skyrim is such a beautiful land it's a privilege to have to walk through it all.)

Not every Bethesda game works so well with a tacked on Survival mode, however. Take Fallout 4, for example. Honestly, it's not even fair to call Fallout 4's mode a 'survival mode' as it should be known as 'Dark Souls: Fallout edition' for how unforgivably brutal it is. However, Dark Souls is a lot more fun with it's brutality. (I didn't mean for that to sound so sadomasochistic.) Fallout 4 launched with a 'survival' difficulty setting, but at the time all that did was change the way stimpacks worked, buffed enemies and forced a few more legendary spawns in the game. (So it was essentially the 'fun mode') But everything changed when the Bethesda nation attacked.

Apparently discontent with having something decent in the largely disappointing Fallout 4, Bethesda decided to mutilate that Survival difficulty by implementing some of the most overbearing survival mechanics that I've ever seen in a video game. Yes, I understand that Fallout takes place in a post-apocalyptic wasteland in which everyday survival must be abject hell but you didn't need to make that suffering so real Bethesda!

To start with, Fallout 4's survival mode features an infection system that fits you with an illnesses for just about any action in the game. Did you step in a bear trap? You probably have an infection. Did you get hit by a enemy with a melee attack? (Which is around 80% of the game's enemies.) You probably have an infection. Did you eat non-fresh food? You almost certainly have an infection. Did you take a freakin' Radaway? Well, you don't have an infection but you are 50% more likely to contract one. "But how bad are these infections?" Delete your game, bad. They can be as groan-worthy as crippling your Action points to as, for god-sake which idiot in Bethesda's team though this was a good idea, as periodically damaging your health until you are cured. (And yes, it will kill you.) How do you cure such infections? Well, you find an Antibiotic, which are rare, craft one, which is hard, or wait it out, which isn't an option if you are getting periodically damaged.

And that's only one aspect of this game's ridiculously overbearing survival systems. Also, the food and hunger suffer from the 'too fast' problem which means that you'll spend most of your time looking for food and water and there is no fast travel system in the game anymore. (Hope you like looking at the same bits of nuked out highway as you hoof it back and forth everywhere!) The cherry on top of it all, however? You can only save by sleeping. That means that if you die you go back to where you last slept. Invariably. From Software eat you freaking hearts out.

Now, let me end with what I consider to be the greatest survival mode of all time. The gold standard that every single video game should follow. The survival mode featured in Fallout: New Vegas. (No. I didn't do a third Bethesda game, this game was made my Obsidian, remember?) FNV offers you the chance to choose the survival mode at the beginning and those that do will be amazed at how naturally the game handles it. It's almost like the franchise was built from the ground up to accommodate such a seamless system.

Firstly, New Vegas' survival mode is the very soul of of unobtrusive. You can go several weeks without eating, sleeping or drinking with no fear of keeling over, making the Courier seem like one stubborn SOB. Of course, failing to keep one of your bars full will give the player a debuff; but, unlike every over survival game out there, the initial debuffs only effect RPG stats rather than core gameplay stats. So yeah, this can be a pain in the butt if you are trying to do a highly specialized task, but you don't have to pause you're entire playthrough to go hunting for a cheese wheel because your character got a little peckish.

Secondly, this mode actually goes a long way to solve one of Fallout's biggest problems, meaningless clutter. Part of what brings a Fallout world to life is the abundance of things that the player gets to interact with, however, most of the time food and water is entirely useless to most players. All they do is weigh you down whilst offering a pitiful amount of HP upon consumption, encouraging most players to ignore them altogether in favour of loading up on Stimpaks. New Vegas' Survival mode counteracts this by giving every food item a value in it's nutritional benefits. Suddenly players have a reason to raid fridges that they come across and dabble in the hundreds of recipes available at the campfire.

Thirdly, Obsidian went out of their way to ensure that this mode says 'No' as little as possible. I may have praised the fact that Skyrim SE's survival mode disabled fast travel but that's more a testament to Bethesda's talented world designers for making a world space worth travelling through. It still sucks to have to do. Fallout 4's saving restriction, on the otherhand, is an unreserved disaster that turns a difficult-to-love game into a stress inducing nightmare. Fallout: New Vegas' survival mode does none of these things and only provides restrictions where the gameplay experience could be improved. People need a purpose for consumables so they added hunger and thirst bars, damaged body parts seemed to inconsequential due to their being healed by Stimpaks so Obsidian replaced that functionality with doctor's bags, people carried around so much ammo that fights stopped being fun so Obsidian made ammo weigh something. Every restriction was a hidden improvement.

Just like with any aspect of a game, Survival modes are a spectrum. Some can be wholly and utterly transformative to the experience whilst others are so bad that their envisioners should be banned from ever having another idea again. (Looking at you, Fallout 4 devs.) I will admit that I do approach a game that labels itself with the 'survival game' moniker with some caution, but I've had too many memorable experience due to such mechanics for me to turn them down outright. (I'll never forget the night I charged across The Reach whilst addled from sleep deprivation and swinging a Buster sword at anything that moved.) Next time you see a survival game, give it a shot, you may find you new favourite sub-genre.

Building in games

Building buildings here!

In the right hands, the power to create can be a limitless gift. In video games, player-shaped creation is a big step in allowing players to personalize the game which they are playing. There are countless ways in which this can achieved from something as grand as creation tools to something as tiny as the ability to name your weapons. It narrows the vast abyss between the developers and the players in a way that endears them to the product. Allow people the chance to create a little ounce of rapport with their game world you'll find their response to be all the greater for it.

The philosophy behind this particular topic is rather hefty so I intend to condense it down into little bite-sized installments. First, as the title suggests, I want to talk about the ability to build in games. Whether as a token gesture or a full blown, realized, game mechanic; I believe that when the player is tasked with staking a claim in the gameworld it establishes a tight bond with the player. They say that the task of creating something can be like tearing out a piece of your own heart to serve as the dough, transpose that ideal into the world of games and it can be easy to see why players go nuts for these sorts of mechanics. They are so popular, in fact, that some games have built their entire premise around the concept of building.

Kinda like Minecraft has. Everyone and their mother has heard about the infinite replayability of Mojang's Minecraft and it's limitless appeal. Adults and children find fulfillment in the game in such a way that few other entertainment products capture. This is due to many factors; the low minimum requirements allowing lower-end systems to run some form of the game, blocky timeless pixel graphics that kids and adults can enjoy, and the key focus on the concept of creativity (A virtue that I maintain everyone harbours in themselves to some degree.)

When playing Minecraft, players are presented with an expansive, never ending, world which is entirely at the mercy of their creative wit. Tree's can be cut down, land can be upturned, stone can be dug up and water can be displaced. Nothing in the world is permanent and everything can be reshaped into whatever form you so please. Players can build houses, mansions, castles, towns, cities, Death Stars, Full scale replicas of the Enterprise-D and giant floating islands in the sky. You have no limit to your work beyond that which you can imagine. Even after 10 years of constant updates, Mojang still recognize how this freedom is the heart of their game and seek to improve upon world generation or exploration whenever possible. Minecraft is the purest possible example of game-ified building mechanics.

Minecraft met with such fame and success when it first released that some games pivoted their entire design to ape the juggernaut. Just look at Fortnite. Back during their first gameplay presentation, Epic relied heavily on the building mechanics to demonstrate to people how their experience was distinct from any other tower defence game. Some even went so far as to invoke the name of Minecraft whilst describing the rudimentary building tools, despite their apparent crippling rigidness. The issue with the base game was not that players were disappointed with the fact that the game couldn't live up to Minecraft's promise of freedom, just that they felt belittled by the company attempting to equate the two. You could even see this as a contributing factor to Fortnite's initial lack in sales.

When 'Fortnite: Battle Royale' hit, everything changed. Now people were comparing this game to the other big battle royale of the time: Player Unknown's Battlegrounds. Suddenly the building aspect of Fortnite was a significant gameplay differentiator that transformed the product as a whole. Players who had got used the slow, methodical, crawl of PUBG matches were now met with an entirely new meta-game experience, one of charging the enemy and building as they go. I think history proves which game's approach ultimately won that ideological clash. Fortnite's building may not have been as robust as what Minecraft offered but it wasn't until Fortnite found it legs that people realized, it really didn't need to be. For a fast paced Battle Royale a simpled, streamlined building mechanic is necessary and appreciated, and that is what Fortnite specialized in. No one will spend their time building something semi-permanent with those tools, (Outside of the dedicated 'build mode') but the quick-build structures were enough to endear people to the game. It allowed players to make the battlefield their own in a way no other competitive shooter had managed before.

For a structurally linear experience it can be hard to imagine how a game like Assassin Creed could have building mechanics, but they do, just in a completely different way to those other two games. With both Minecraft and Fortnite, their building was founded on the ground of free-placement items. No such luck in Ubisoft's story-centric, historical stab-athon franchise. But that doesn't mean the games couldn't fit some sort of building in there, or rather 'renovation'. Ever since Assassin's Creed 2 there has been some sort of building metagame that varies in narrative relevance; but it is always there so that Ubisoft's open-world department managers can tick off that box on their clipboard list sheet. In Assassin Creed 2, Ezio was tasked with renovating Monteriggioni, Brotherhood and Revelations had him fixing up large portions of Rome and Constantinople respectively, Connor worked on an entire town project in 3 and Kenway built up the entire Caribbean in Black Flag.

The effect this has on the player differs from entry to entry but it is always noteworthy. In Assassin Creed 2, 4, and Unity, the player is working on their own hub space as they go through renovations. Having somewhere to call home goes a long way to grounding that player in their world and helps the audience to immerse themselves . (Even if no Assassins Creed has managed to come up with a worthwhile reason why the player ever needs to consistent go back home.) In Brotherhood and Revelations, the player is playing landlord with an entire city, so the mechanic is less there for grounding purposes and more just to institute one of those 'hands-off' gameplay loops that Ubisoft loved doing for a time. I never was a huge fan of these systems, they always seem built to reward you for not playing the game, which just appears a tad shortsighted. Then there is Assassins Creed 3's homestead which ties in significant character driven narrative progression into an optional build-a-town-questline. And yes, you heard me right. I said 'Optional'. People who complain that AC3's Conner Kenway is entirely unlikeable often never took the time to trough through this questline (Which spans the full length of the entire game.) in order to see Connor's character growth up close with the community he built. I'm not saying that it saves the character or anything, but it helps you see one more side to the stoney-faced snooze-inducer that he is for the rest of the game.


Even Bethesda got in on the 'linear house building' craze with Skyrim's second DLC Hearthfire. Those who partook are offered the ability to build their own homestead on Skyrim's icy tundras. (An alternative to the perfectly functional, if small, vanilla player homes.) The only catch, you have to build it all yourself. And it is no simple task. Hearthfire was a DLC built for the sole purpose of bolstering role playing potential in Skyrim and helping root immersion. Players went through the struggle of acquiring copious amounts of building material and then were given a small range of design choices as they crafted a prefab house. After it was all said and done, players could sit and back and bask in the glory of the hard day's work. (Or, as is more likely, a hard months work.) A lot of The Elder Scrolls' systems are created for roleplaying potential and build-able player houses were no exception.

Therefore it should come as no surprise that something similar should pop up in another game that champions immersion and roleplay potential. (Although not, perhaps, with as much of an all-encompassing approach as Bethesda does.) 'The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild' features one linear 'Build-a-house' system that is so optional that I, along with many other gamers, didn't even know it existed in our initial playthrough. In Hateno Village the player can come across a small run down shack which they can then convert into their cool little home. The house itself is limited in actual beneficial function, offering you little more than a place to sleep and a display case for some of your items; but the mere novelty of having a home to return to helps lend to that 'world grounding' I was talking about earlier. Although I will say, BoTW's Link looks more at home sleeping rough than any other video game character ever.

If Skyrim was the point that Bethesda were experimenting with 'house building' mechanics, then Fallout 4 would certainly be the beta stage. Borrowing the core concept from Elderwind's popular Fallout: New Vegas mod, 'Wasteland Defence', Bethesda sought to implement a settlement crafting system into Fallout 4. But this wasn't with the linear pick-an-option approach that they tried with Skyrim, but a rudimentary manual placement system more akin to Fortnite. Players had to build up the living space for an entire town of mostly interaction-less NPC's and then defend them from endless waves of bullet fodder. Fallout 4's building didn't exact lean to the calm and serene role playing potential that Hearthfire did, but more the quick action-oriented approach that the rest of the game adopted. This was slightly marred by the building tools themselves. Just restrictive enough not inspire the imagination like Minecraft did and just liberating enough to require real effort in order to make something remotely presentable.

Fallout 76 was when Bethesda's building mechanics were really ready for market. Instead of building settlements, players were given the ability to build a home, only this time they had no restrictions on foundations and could build anywhere. The actual building tools themselves were improved to make the act of building much more intuitive and forgiving. With a map as huge as Fallout 76's, being told to go out and make a house almost feels like staking your claim in the old west. That old junkyard house you eventually put together is representative of the blood sweat and tears you put into gathering the material to assemble it. (And your patience for persisting through all the server issues.)

The prevalence of 'building mechanics' in modern games is indicative of the appeal of creative outlets in games. There will always be an audience for mindless action experiences and tactical real-time strategy games, but sometimes people just want to settle down and let their creativity flow. I have always been a huge fan of these kind of features, even if I've never been much an architect myself'; I find the drive to create something that I am proud of often trumps the desire to push forward to the end. Sometimes I find myself becoming hopeless dedicated to games that don't completely deserve it in order to perfect something that doesn't really have any concrete criteria for perfection. I become my own taskmaster and I'm not the only player to fall into the similar habits. I guess it just goes to show; tell the player to build a house and they'll try to make a home.

The Best and Worst of Procedural Generation

Rise of the Machines.

You know, Game design is a really involved process. Every step of the way you are met with complications and tribulations as you attempt to (I love this analogy) build on top of wet concrete. So much development time gets chewed up by iterating and reiterating and shaping and reshaping fundamental design elements, that it can be overwhelming for unprepared development teams. Wouldn't it be a lot easier if one of those main development tasks could he handled by an independent entity. Not a contractor per-se, something more reliable with less overheads. Something like a computer. Instead of dedicating time to make a worldspace you could leave it to an algorithm to... procedurally generate.

Obviously I am being factious. Some game companies do utilize procedural generation in their games and the process is not quite as simple as a set-and-forget kind of thing. At least not if you intend for the final product to be presentable. A lot of work and oversight needs to go into the creation of a procedural generation system to ensure that it is creating content that is viable, bug-free and worthwhile for the player. When developers put in the time to set it up, the result is spectacular. Procedural generation is capable of creating much more than is feasibly possible with a limited workforce or creating the right conditions for potentially endless replayability.

Taking the leap to trusting the work of an algorithm can be daunting to some. Afterall, some of the fun of game design is knowing exactly how everything you've made fits together, like solving a huge, 4d puzzle; when you leave a portion of that work up to a computer, suddenly you add an element of uncertainty to that equation. If the possibilities of your procedural generation algorithm are endless, than how can you be sure to account for everything that could potentially go wrong?  Because of this factor, it is still considered a risky venture to implement procedural generation systems, ensuring those systems are a rarity in the modern AAA market.

Procedural generation does have a very long history in game development, longer than some people think. Not always a successful history, mind you, but a storied one at least. For the purposes of this blog I want to go back to some of the standout games to feature procedural generation and see how successfully they are implemented. That means that for every game I mention there are likely at least 10 more from that timeframe that I have skipped over, intentionally or otherwise. I have just taken the liberty to choose some games that I either have history with or a connection to. That being said, remember when I mentioned how I used to be a huge Star Wars nut? Would you believe that they made a Star Wars game that prominently featured procedural generation? Well they did.

'Star Wars: Yoda Stories' is an old school, topdown action-adventure game from the age before the prequels. Released in 1997, 'Yoda Stories' tells the tale of Luke arriving on Dagobah to complete his training under master Yoda. "Oh", you may think, "like that level from Lego Star Wars 2 then". No, and don't you ever make that comparison again! The game starts as you land in your X-wing and are forced to navigate the confusing locales in order to discover the home of that beloved little goblin. And when I say 'confusing locales' I'm not just referring to that fact that planet is a literal swamp. I mean 'confusing' because the game is ugly as sin and the environments are mind-numbingly repetitive. Once you do find Kermit's height-impaired little brother, that is only the start of your woes. Yoda then proceeds to send Luke on a fetch quest for some useless macguffin that might not even be on the same planet as you. Then rinse and repeat until you're too brain dead to operate the keyboard anymore.

"Sounds like you don't like this game." Why yes it does, voice in my head, well noted. "So why did you bring it up?" Well you see, the environments that the player are forced to roam through seem so uninteresting and boring, to the point where you just couldn't imagine a human being actually designing it, and that is because no human being did. Indeed, Yoda Stories' 'game selling' feature was the fact that it's levels were entirely procedurally generated, meaning that you could play again and again and never encounter the same level twice. (Why you would ever want to play again is beyond me, but the option is there.) This little gimmick would be nice if the algorithm was given enough direction and tools to make areas that felt somewhat distinct, but alas either 1997 programming tools were too rudimentary or the developers just didn't care enough. Whatever the reason, we are left with a game that is historic, but pretty decently awful.

Wait, the same game director who made Yoda Stories made another Lucas Arts published game a year beforehand? And it features another timeless property? Well that game can't be bad, right? Afterall, if it were, there is no way Lucas Arts would have hired him again within the space of a year, would they? 1996's 'Indiana Jones and his desktop adventures' is a topdown, action adventure- wait a minute, this seems familiar. That's right, it is essentially the exact same game with different a different coat of paint. However, this time the creators tried to push the 'procedural generation' aspect even harder then before; slapping possibly my favourite ever splash-text on the boxart: "Literally Billions Of  Possible Games!" Is that right? Billions, huh? Technically correct if you count one rock being slightly to the left as a whole new game. It's just a shame that all of those game's are terrible, isn't it.

Before we speed ahead, let's go back a bit. To a game that birthed on of my personal favourite franchises of all time: 'The Elder Scrolls: Arena'. Long has my love-affair with The Elder Scrolls blossomed. Starting with Morrowind and eventually stretching to every single main-line entry of the series. But none of that history has made me biased, when I first approached Arena I made sure to put all that aside and judge the game from it's own merits. As such I managed to enjoy Arena for the old school, rudimentary, hack and slash that it was. The dungeons became a little unwieldy in the later levels but my overall impression was that it was a solid game that could very much stand on it's on. (In fact, it sort of does stand on it's own; considering how little story and lore the game shares with it's successors.)

One element of the game that I didn't enjoy was the experience of attempting to grind. Many of the end-game locales require the player to seriously beef up before tackling them, which leaves the player in a bit of a predicament. You see, whilst you were able to use the map to travel to story-relevant areas and cities, there is no way to use the map for tracking down optional areas to conquer. Adventurers had to use their initiative and wonder out into the wilderness hoping to come across old ruins. (Or just stalk the town's streets at night, as then they become dripping with hostiles. Apparently, no one ever told the city guard to take shifts.)  The problem with this approach is the fact that the gameworld is big. Ungainly big. As in, before ESO, this game was the only one in the franchise to encompass all of Tamriel. Hearing this might may you think "Wow, how did early Bethesda manage to craft an entire continent?". Well, I featured the game on this blog so you can likely figure it out. The Elder Scrolls Arena utilized a procedural generation algorithm in order to craft it's open world. The result is an open world that would take weeks to traverse (In real time) and a random assortment of side-dungeons that honestly aren't worth the effort to clear. Like many early randomly-generated games, Arena's execution falls a fair bit short of the team's aspirations. Luckily the base game is solid enough that this failure didn't sink the game and now we have Skyrim so I'd say the world is mostly better off.

The next game is legendary enough to likely need no introduction or explanation, but I enjoy self-imposed redundancy, so here we go. 2009 saw the release of the biggest indie title ever, Mojang's Minecraft. Since then, millions of players have been won over by Minecraft's promise of unrestrained creativity where you can make the game whatever you want it to be. (Providing you want it to be a game about building things.) It's social proliferation has reached such a degree where the game has managed to survive being run through by traditional media and still come out the otherside smelling of roses. Minecraft even pulled of the greatest trick any game can pull, being dethroned from it's 'most popular' podium by newcomer Fortnite, only to crawl it's way back 'On The Waterfront'-style in a comeback story for the ages. (Once which everyone tells differently, by the by.

I mention Mojang's opus here because Minecraft was the very first game I played in which I noticed and appreciated the procedural generation element. In Minecraft, the world in which you inhabit stretches out for all eternity. (Or at least until you travel 7784 miles away from spawn. which you ain't gonna do be accident.)  This means that the player can wonder the world and explore it's vistas in perpetuity. This algorithm is one that Mojang have spent the last 10 years perfecting, in order to ensure that the world it generates is always worth looking at. For my part, I still see the odd extreme hill that still blows me away even after all these years. The infinite world also means that the player has access to infinite resources with which to build with. Minecraft is perhaps one of the best examples of procedural generation implemented and executed perfectly. It enriches the game and truly makes it feel endless. (In a good way.)

There is one genre in particular makes use of procedural generation as part of it's MO. Rougelites and Rouge-likes like to change up their playspace each time the player dies in order to keep things feeling fresh. And it's necessary for a game genre built around the concept of the player dying and starting again over and over.  Rougelites in particular often use a 'room-based' navigation system in order to allow for random generation to affect each 'room' separately and string them together into one unique dungeon. The Binding of Issac, Moonlighters, Spelunky and many more all rely upon robust algorithms mixing things up constantly. Randomized layout, enemy placement and item generation assures that no one is ever relaxed when tackling a new run.

This implementation is the similar to the way Diablo and it's successors use procedural generation. In Diablo, the player is tasked with battling their way down through hell and slaying the titular demon of damnation. The kicker is that the plethora of dungeons that the player goes through, are all computer generated, as is their enemies and the hoards of loot said-enemies drop. This is another necessary implementation as Diablo is designed to be replayed over and over as the player engages in the gameplay loop of perpetual self improvement. Diablo-esque games like Path of Exile and Torchlight make use of similar systems in their send up to Diablo.

A few of the examples I have already bought up have been about developers using algorithms in order to circumvent a potentially impossible workload. Although, I think no company embodies this ideal as perfectly as Hello Games with their title, No Man's Sky. NMS is a game that will be forever tainted by the fact that is promised the stars and gave the moon. But to be honest, even in apparent failure, Hello games achieved something spectacular. Describing the size of No Man's Sky is hard, so I'll just quote the official Wiki "The universe of No Man's Sky (is comprised of) 255 unique galaxies, which in turn comprise around 3 to 4 billion regions, each of which contain more than 122 and up to hundreds of star systems. All star systems feature from 1-6 planets and moons, and usually a single space station." One quote from one the developers was floating around about how 'if you were to visit one planet every second, you would die before experiencing half of a single galaxy."

Technologically, No Man's Sky is an absolute marvel only possible through advanced and refined procedural algorithms. The problem is that NMS relies on the generation a bit too much. With all those planets available, there are bound to be a few that aren't worth visiting, the problem is that NMS planets are so similar that it isn't long before none of them are worth visiting. That's a little bit of a problem in a game that is specifically deigned around the idea of exploration. If the player has seen everything by the 10th hour then they sort of lose the incentive to keep travelling. In recent updates, No Man's Sky has shifted the focus from 'constant exploration' to the much more gamplay-sound mentality of 'builidng a home'. Taking a page out of Minecraft's book they've managed to make the game feel much more worthwhile. However, I still play the game as my background for podcast time. (Like the freak I am.)

Here's one that you might not have known; 'Mass Effect: Andromeda' was originally supposed to have a procedural generated element to it just like No Man's Sky. Back when Bioware were still figuring out what the game would look like, the choice had been made that the Andromeda Galaxy would be inhabited by completely random planets created on the spot. That's why much of the game's dialogue revolves around your family having the 'hearts of explorers' despite the fact you only see 5 planets and spend most of your time shooting people on them. Bioware wanted to allow players to colonize whichever worlds that they saw fit to, essentially allowing us to decide the future home of humanity.

This would have been the first AAA game to make significant use of procedural generation had the idea made it to inception. Unfortunately, the idea was left on the cutting room floor after it became apparent that 'the randomly generated planets would not meet Bioware's standard of quality'. Given how those same systems worked out for NMS and The Elder Scrolls: Arena, I have to say the logic is sound. However, I still can't help but think that if a big budget studio were to put their weight behind a galaxy generator we could get something worthwhile; heck, Bioware must have thought the same thing if the idea made it to a pitch room. I think the real reason it was scrapped it because the publishers got cold feet. You can never be sure of how a computer-run development would turn out so EA likely thought it was better not to take the risk. Either way, it's a darn shame that we won't see a space game push the boundaries of tech in such a cool way for a while, if ever.

As I have said a few times in this blog, procedural generation is a risk. When you leave the shape of your creative endeavour to be decided by fate, you either end up simulating the chaos of nature or the soullessness of a computer. Few are willing to put their work on the line like that, but those that are can sometimes change the way we look at games. Minecraft was originally conceptualized as one prebuilt world that players would mess around in, allowing the players some degree of freedom but nothing close to what they have today. With procedural generation in Minecraft, every world feels unique to the player that inhabits it; they don't just become their world's architect, they become it's arbiter. It's a subtle difference but one that completely shifts the player's personal relationship to that world. Now, of course, not all procedural generation systems have that exact effect, but they all lend a touch of uncertainty that cannot be captured in any other way. As we move into the age of the Scarlett and PlayStation 5, I find myself optimistic for the future of computer generated content in games. The better the tech, the better the scope to create something bigger and more diverse than any human brain could ever envision. Who knows, maybe one day we'll get an AI advanced enough to create an entire game by itself. True, at that point the thing will have likely transcended human scope and will hence become Skynet, but at least we'll get one kick-ass game before we all get annihilated by our robot overlords.