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[Evan Balster]

I figured this deserved a discussion of its own.


So the narrative strength of a game comes from the fact that the player is inside the story, making choices that produce meaningful results.  This produces (among lots of other things) two big poles in game storytelling:

A)  Linear games.  The player is given a series of goals to achieve which advance the storyline, and failing in accomplishing these goals generally mandates the player try again or find alternate solutions to the problems at hand.  The story's progression and conclusion are essentially fixed.

B)  Nonlinear and open-world games.  The player is set free in an open space with the freedom to pursue goals as desired.  The storyline is more or less written by the player from a large assortment of possibilities, and its progression and conclusion (if any) vary widely.


Most game storylines utilize some balance of these two in an attempt at the best of both worlds.  Linear games have more structured narratives into which more effort can be put because a million possibilities needn't be addressed.  Nonlinear games seize the strength of the medium by giving the player free reign and meaningful choices to make, and thereby making the narrative respond to them.

I've seen an approach, however, that manages to do better than balancing the two philosophies.  By deceiving the player in a structured manner, it controls the direction of the story without giving away that it's doing so.  It keeps the player on a linear path by building the world around them.


I was introduced to this idea by the IF game Photopia, from which I draw the below examples.

Example 1:  You're in a desolate area.  You walk west and see a ruined building.  North and see a boulder.  North again and see a destroyed vehicle.  The game is programmed so you see those items in that order and once they're exhausted your character (who has found something useful) shows no interest in walking anywhere else, so you walk back to where you started.

Example 2:  You're in a castle room where you can walk south or north.  You walk south and enter a room with a ruined staircase.  You turn around and head through the castle the other way.  The ruined staircase is significant, however, so had you walked north first the castle's layout would have been reversed.

Example 3:  You're in a car with a friend trying to talk him out of driving somewhere drunk.  The conversation can take various courses and breach various topics, but inevitably ends with you giving up or being left on the side of the road.


All three of these situations do a great job of obscuring the inevitability of their outcomes.  In the first two examples, it seems like coincidence that the game's locations are traversed in such an appropriate order.  In the third, the player is left wondering what would have happened had the conversation gone differently.

To discover what's actually going on--the clever deception--it's necessary to play the game again, at which point the illusion breaks.  However, I'm not sure that one disadvantage is very significant.  This approach--analog from what I hear to what an experienced tabletop game-master often employs--allows a story to have a structured progression and a deep narrative, while strengthening the investment of the player by giving them a sense of responsibility for all that has happened.  It's deceptive, and that immersion is lost when the illusion breaks, but the gains are significant and in the worst case the game is simply understood as linear.


Let's try applying the idea.

Concept one:  In an adventure game, a dramatic lead-up brings the player to a scene where they have to defuse a bomb.  There are three wires and the player has no idea which to cut.  A side-character babbles nervously in the background, making guesses as to what should be done.  The player chooses and cuts one wire, at which point the timer begins to tick down at a frightening rate.  The side-character shrieks and continues spouting out irrelevant thoughts and advice, until the player cuts a second wire, at which point the timer goes dead and the bomb is defused.

Concept two:  The player-avatar is running through a flooding cave, carrying an injured comrade.  At some point the player must choose between two side-passages.  The one chosen, after some more running, is shown to be a dead end.  The flood can't be outrun, and the protagonist must don the one available set of scuba gear and leave the injured friend (who has no chance of survival now) behind.  The player swims out, and into the other passage, to safety.


Lastly, an idea on taking the idea a step further and circumventing the 'illusion-break' effect.  If the environment is solidified in the first playthrough of the game and secondary narrative possibilities are only possible in the second, the weakness is more or less solved.  As an added bonus, the writer controls the order in which alternate storylines are experienced, creating a 'meta-narrative'.

[floatstarpx]

Concept one:  In an adventure game, a dramatic lead-up brings the player to a scene where they have to defuse a bomb.  There are three wires and the player has no idea which to cut.  A side-character babbles nervously in the background, making guesses as to what should be done.  The player chooses and cuts one wire, at which point the timer begins to tick down at a frightening rate.  The side-character shrieks and continues spouting out irrelevant thoughts and advice, until the player cuts a second wire, at which point the timer goes dead and the bomb is defused.

This is interesting stuff... We did this to an extent in EGV, where we had a number of washing machines you could search for an item.. It would always be in the 3rd machine you searched, no matter which ones you searched.

It was a big challenge for us making an "adventure game" with platforming/action elements, as we didn't want to introduce the concept of dying (or losing, game over, or whatever)... so we always had to come up with reasons for why you would have to do something again if you failed...

for example, if you lost the gameshow section in EGV, a cameraman would claim that there was no tape in the camera - meaning the gameshow had to be re-filmed.. there's definitely limits to how/where you can do this kind of thing, however!

but using this "fatalistic railroading" (as you call it - I'm not aware of whether this is a standard term or not?), on the assumption the player will only play the game once (which is fairly likely with this genre of game...we always see EGV, and the sequel we're working on EGV2) as "once through" games..literally ~2 hours of entertainment in one block, and that's it... as long as the player isn't aware it's there, you never lose that tension.

we're actually bringing in the concept of "losing" in to EGV2 (you'll only have to go back to the beginning of the 'action' scene you lost..) because it's a constant struggle to keep the action sections exciting while still having that "you can't lose" feel of an adventure game...

[Evan Balster]

For what it's worth I totally made up the term.  It's railroading, just hidden away.  I think 'fatalistic' makes sense because the "game gods" are guiding you to a specific place.

[floatstarpx]

For what it's worth I totally made up the term.  It's railroading, just hidden away.  I think 'fatalistic' makes sense because the "game gods" are guiding you to a specific place.

It definitely works well to sum it up! I'll start saying it all the time, and maybe it'll catch on as an accepted phrase. I'll get everyone I know to do the same. You'll be famous. No need to thank me

[Evan Balster]

*queue "dancing queen" and shots of me--just a backwoods country girl who made it big--looking in awe at the towers of New York*


If anyone can think of a more succinct term I'd be grateful.

[Xion]

I keep misreading this thread's title as "fantastic railroading"

I really like the idea though, and it might actually solve one of the problems I was having with an earlier game of mine - how to give the player choices and emphasize those choices while still maintaining a kind of structured narrative. It would be neat if one mixed this method with a more open-ended game, where these kinds of fated results were punctuations to guide the game in an otherwise freer world, or vice versa, having a few choices that actually matter among these kinds of false freedoms.

[mirosurabu]

Photopia is a variant of non-linear narrative. I don't think the fact that plot doesn't branch should be hidden, because as far as I can see, that's not the point. Not only that, but if I had played it expecting multiple endings, I would have been disappointed.

The key thing about it is that it allows you to approach the story from different angles. So, all that matters is that options are interesting and paths are coherent.

[floatstarpx]

I guess one notable example of this was the original Bioshock..
it gave you that decision - harvest or save... you're originally told that by saving you receive less of the points (whatever they are, I forget) because you harvest less from the little sister... - but this is a trick, because a little bit later (not that much later, usually) you'll get given some extra points in a different way by a saved little sister (usually they've left a package for you)..
so you end up basically the same whichever you choose..

[LemonScented]

Interesting concept. I think the biggest weakness is that once a player finds out or deduces that you're using this technique (on a second playthrough, or from an online walkthrough or a friend, or just noticing that things don't go their way), a huge amount of the emotional investment is lost. If I know that the outcome of a scene is likely to be the same regardless of my actions, why should I bother agonising over which wire on the bomb to cut?

It's a great narrative trick but I think it's best used sparingly. Some examples exist already, I think - someone mentioned Bioshock with the harvest/save choices being basically equivalent, and it's also got that "Would you kindly" moment which sort of reverses the technique by pointing out the way the game tricked you. Red Dead Redemption has a notable scene fairly near the end which can only ever end one way. Shadow of the Colossus does it too. I guess Portal, to an extent - the game designers wanted you to escape the test chambers, but at the same time put in a lot of cues designed to give the player the illicit thrill that they're doing the "wrong" thing.

I think what those games have in common is that they use the trick rarely (no more than once in each game, generally), and don't let you know it's coming. The closest example I can think that does something like "Fatalistic Railroading" regularly is Fahrenheit. It feels pretty open at first, but the game allows to you replay scenes and you quickly learn that the story is not nearly as open-ended as is first implied.I don't know if Heavy Rain had the same problem, I've not played it.

What I like more is something like the level design in Half Life 2. First time playing through that game, when I bowled out of an alleyway into a street and had to make an assessment as to which way to walk down the street, my instincts turned out to be right every time. It was only on the second playthrough that I tried some of the other routes and they were all dead ends. The game hadn't rearranged itself to always make the first choice right (or wrong, depending on the designer's intention) - it had just used a bunch of subtle psychological cues built into the lighting and architecture to subconsciously coax me into making the desired decision anyway.

[fraxcell]

I must say that even if I didn't replay a game, just knowing that my experience is being controlled in such a way, especially as in Example 2, would make me feel rather cheated, as though my choices are meaningless. To me, the whole point of having choices in a game is so that I can go back and try making a different decision.

The exception would be in a (for lack of a better description) fast paced section of a game. Like in a first person shooter, if you are running away from someone and you go left, you end up in the same place as if you had gone right, but your experience isn't interrupted with having to stop and turn around (possibly dying and having to restart in the process).

[Evan Balster]

Again I'll emphasize how this is a very deceitful technique.  A bit like a magic trick, where the player knowing what's going on ruins the whole thing.  The way to use it effectively is to ensure its secret isn't discovered, at least until the player has beaten the game once.

And other than Red Dead (which I haven't played) I'm not sure any of the examples provided really pull this "trick" in the same way Photopia does.

[mirosurabu]

The problem is that the trick doesn't work. As soon as you try to get an alternate ending, the trick is spoiled in front of your face. You feel cheated.

[Pineapple]

What I like more is something like the level design in Half Life 2. First time playing through that game, when I bowled out of an alleyway into a street and had to make an assessment as to which way to walk down the street, my instincts turned out to be right every time. It was only on the second playthrough that I tried some of the other routes and they were all dead ends. The game hadn't rearranged itself to always make the first choice right (or wrong, depending on the designer's intention) - it had just used a bunch of subtle psychological cues built into the lighting and architecture to subconsciously coax me into making the desired decision anyway.

Yeah, the level design behind Half-Life 2 was incredible. I almost always felt lost in a open-ended environment, but I rarely, if ever, actually ended up have to backtrack or second-guess the path I took. I really don't know how they did it, especially with the prison areas; they were small and fairly monotonous but they were still fun to navigate. A shame I've never really sat down to play the other two episodes yet 

[Perrin]

This approach is already used a lot in dialogue sequences in games like Fahrenheit where you kind of feel like you're given a lot of choice and are affecting how the game plays out. However if you play through it again you'll find a lot of the choices all lead to the same place really. You see it in BioWare games too in places. You kind of give players the ability to change what they said but not where the conversation is going.

[floatstarpx]

The problem is that the trick doesn't work. As soon as you try to get an alternate ending, the trick is spoiled in front of your face. You feel cheated.

I guess it just depends if your game is designed to be replayed or not.
It's a bit like when I'm watching Series 1 of Dexter... I know there is a Series 2, 3 and 4 (and maybe even 5... probably) - so I know he's not in any real danger, because there's several series left to go, and they won't be that exciting if he's dead/in prison/etc... but does it get rid of the tension? Not really...

Games constantly worry about replayability... but films don't have to. Some people still enjoy films a second time round, even knowing how it ends! (I personally don't...I mainly just like to watch films once.. although my memory is pretty awful, so sometimes I can watch it a second time and I'll have forgotten the ending).

Maybe we should (sometimes - isn't really appropriate for all games) take a hint from films, and know that sometimes you can improve your game by 'assuming' one play-through.. Is it better to have it ideal on the first play-thru, and terrible on the 2nd than compromised on both? If you know that 99% of your players are only going to play it once, I reckon it is. If it allows us to do things such as this, and employ other similar story-driving techniques - then maybe it's worth it.

[Captain_404]

I suppose if there's one thing about this approach that makes me uncomfortable it's the way it encourages game designers to treat their players. To me, one of the most important aspects of games is their relative malleability, which arises mostly from the player. When the designer fatalizes their narrative in this way, they are placing sole importance on their narrative. It doesn't matter who is playing the game and it doesn't matter what they do, the game will progress the same each time. When the designer takes such a firm, authorial stance it eliminates every possibility of emergence.

Ok, but what did emergence ever offer the author anyway? Arguably, all it does it give the player a sense of agency and occasionally has a negative, jarring effect on the narrative. If all emergence offers is the feeling of agency, do away with it. The feeling can be simulated by this approach just as easily and can retain authorial intent.

But then there's the idea that on replying the game, the player will feel betrayed or lied to. I don't know how much value to actually place on this argument. There's not much in the way of reasons why the player should feel betrayed at all. Perhaps they held the idea that implicit in a game is a dynamically unfolding narrative (which I think we all know is a lie, most games being painfully linear). But, similarly, why should the player not also feel a sense of awe at the light touch of the narrative, why should they not feel impressed that the author was able to beguile them into a false sense of agency. Certainly it is a difficult task to guide every action to the same end point and still make the sequence and consequence seem logical. Why should the player feel betrayed? It seems to simple of an assumption and too easy of an argument to me.

[As an aside, I'd like to point out that the player doesn't even need to replay the game to understand its linear nature. People are bound to discuss games they enjoyed on the internet, and through that discussion the true nature of such a game will most likely be revealed. Other people's experiences are influencing our own experience constantly. As game designers, we can no longer carry on with this belief that we are creating into a vacuum. All games are multiplayer games in some sense.]

That brings me to the question I really want to raise. I think the value of emergence lies in the player discovering things the designer didn't explicitly create, but which nevertheless exist in harmony with the rest of the game. Good glitches, I suppose. Fatalistic railroading closes off many of these possibilities, or at least has the intent of doing so. When the designer guides the player toward a specific experience, they must keep in mind that they are closing off many other experiences. Some of those experiences are certainly worse than what the designer intended, but, inversely, some of them are better. (and I think it's the nature of the player to gravitate toward experiences which they are better suited to experience) Should we, as game designers and authors, be focused on creating a singular experience, or should we be focused on creating a certain kind of experience within which many singular experiences exist?

Maybe it just comes down to the nature of the story you're trying to tell.

Lastly, an idea on taking the idea a step further and circumventing the 'illusion-break' effect.  If the environment is solidified in the first playthrough of the game and secondary narrative possibilities are only possible in the second, the weakness is more or less solved.  As an added bonus, the writer controls the order in which alternate storylines are experienced, creating a 'meta-narrative'.

This is a really cool idea! I wonder what kinds of stories would necessitate or benefit from being told in such a manner? Probably a good thing to explore at a game jam.

[mirosurabu]

Fahrenheit and Heavy Rain have a lot of choices without real consequences. Sure, there are multiple endings, but since most of the choices are consequence-free, I felt cheated.

It's a cheap trick. All you have to do is make sure you don't tell the player that choices are consequence-free, as there won't be a chance for the player to test the theory before he finishes it. So, if a game promises you that "every choice has real consequences" you'd feel cheated if there is little, let alone none.

In other words, if a game is supposed to make me feel responsible for my choices and powerful for making wise ones then better not tell me it was all just an illusion!

On the other side, if I'm supposed to explore/unfold narrative, it's pretty much fine.

[Evan Balster]

Miroslav-

The second playthrough (unless the trick I mention is used) will inevitably disillusion the player.  But will that negate the good experience you created for them on the first playthrough?  I'd like to think not.


Captain_404-

I think it's worth noting that no one's obligated to make singular use of a trick like this.  It could be slipped into a scene in an open world game to keep that scene moving at a dramatic pace, or added into a mostly linear game to give it an illusion of openness.  It could be combined (as in many, many games) with choices that *do* affect the course of the game but are less numerous, as in "linear but with multiple endings" games.

As for the nifty 'second playthrough' trick, I think the sorts of narratives that could explore it might be stories you're trying to create on the player's side of the screen.  For instance, regret that a bad choice ingame caused their friend to drown horribly in a cave, and a sense of responsibility to play again and "make it right".  If the storywriter really wanted to get meta, the friend could allude to the player "coming back" for him at the sequence's conclusion, for a bit of psychological fun.  (I'd like to think such a scene has the potential to be very emotional, by the way)

[mirosurabu]

Most likely yes, but only if they expect multiple endings and ability to change their decisions after they finish the game. It's tied to expectations I believe - I know I played Fahrenheit with "there will be more" mindset.

[RobHaines]

That's a really interesting technique. As has been mentioned, without further iteration on the idea it would potentially create issues with replayability (one reason I never replayed Photopia).

I had a similar experience with the end of Mass Effect 2; I found the whole suicide mission utterly enthralling the first time through, but I made the critical error of glancing at an FAQ before my second run-through. With the variables clearly dissected before me, the frog died. It was obvious how I was being played, and while I still have my memories of loving it originally, it's sad that I can't see it again with those same eyes.

One Chance - being a fairly simple flash game - had elements of this. Sure, you made occasional choices which helped determine your ending, but most of the time you have just enough freedom to make you feel like you have a choice of what to do, but not enough to actually be able to choose.