Linearity in Games
Linearity is one of those game design topics that gets a lot of attention. Usually seen as a bad thing, linearity is often pointed to as a failing of a game title - and used incorrectly, it can be a big roadblock to player enjoyment. But linearity doesn't have to be a problem. Used properly, it can help provide guidance and ease the player into the game experience, in the end enhancing the player's enjoyment of the game. The trick is to determine where a linear experience will be a help to a player and where it will be a hindrance. Let's take a look at some real-world examples to see where they got it right and where they went wrong.
So what is linearity, exactly? For the sake of this article, I'm going to define a linear game experience as one where the player does not have the ability to deviate from a path set by the designer. There may still be more than one path to take - a game where you can choose which of three pre-set paths to follow, each of which will be the same each time it is played through, is still a linear game. Note that this extends to tactical decisions as well. An in-game situation with only one solution is still linear. But what about a situation with one clearly optimal solution and several less-than-desirable ones? I would argue that such a situation is somewhat linear, but less so than the situation with a single way out. So linearity is not a black and white issue, but rather a scale of greater or lesser player freedom. In addition, some situations within a game might be highly linear, while others are very fluid.
How linearity is enforced is also an important factor in player enjoyment. If there is a reasonable in-game explanation for the fact that player choice is being limited, a player will be more accepting of the limitations than she might be if it is abundantly clear that her choices are limited because the designer just decided that a given choice would not be available. Invisible walls are the classic example of arbitrarily imposed limitations. Of course, most of the limitations placed on players are, to one degree or another, arbitrary - the important part is that they feel reasonable to the player.
Let's look at some popular games to explore these concepts more concretely.
There has been a flood of World War II shooters over the last few years, but the one that really stands out is Call of Duty. Not only was it a great game, but it's a perfect example of how linearity isn't always bad if used properly. The most obvious example is that, like almost all shooters, the player moves through a set progression of levels as the story moves forward. This sort of linearity is the standard for most games, and though it's not the only way of doing things, it works well enough. More importantly, within the game you play as a soldier, and so most of the time you're following orders. Soldiers aren't supposed to run off and do their own thing, so this context immediately gives the player a reason to accept limited choices.
The design of individual levels is linear as well - you can't just go running off in any direction you feel like, because there are barriers that prevent you from doing so. Sometimes the barriers are physical - fences or walls that prevent movement. Other times there is nothing to prevent you from running across a field except a row of small signs denoting a minefield. Sure, you could run that way, but you won't get far. Such a device feels right at home on a battlefield, and is an effective way to make the level feel much larger than it really is.
Call of Duty is a very linear game, on many levels. The thing is, you never feel like you're being constrained unduly. There is always a good reason for not being able to go outside the imposed limits. In addition, there is almost always a feeling of urgency to the missions that keeps you on track. Sure, you could go explore that cemetery or see what's around that corner, but your friends are being pinned down by a tank - if you don't do something right now, they'll die.
Compare this to another recent WWII shooter, Brothers in Arms: Road to Hill 30. You've got the same linear level sequence so common to this sort of game, no surprise there. The levels are also very linear, preventing you from running off across fields and away from the action, but in many cases, the only thing keeping you from exploring is...an invisible wall. Funny, I don't recall those being a major factor in troop movements during WWII. Within the levels, there is usually only one or two ways through a given firefight, with one being the clear best choice. This might not be so much of an issue if the player were just following orders, being directed by a superior officer at every step of the way, but the player is instead put in command of a group of soldiers. There's an expectation there that the player's decisions will really matter, when in reality the game is more or less on rails - and doesn't do much to hide that fact.
As an example of a game that might have tried too hard to get away from linearity, I'm going to examine The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. After a short introductory sequence and character creation, you are basically left to fend for yourself with minimal direction. Someone tells you to go and seek out a certain person in another town, but nothing forces you to do so. You could play the game for dozens of hours without ever meeting that person. There's so much to do and see that at first, the player is overwhelmed by options. There is almost nothing to indicate where it's safe to travel and where you'll meet a quick death, and no one telling you how to get by in the world.
On one level, such openness is refreshing - an inquisitive player can spend weeks exploring caves and delving into dungeons, or running quests for random townsfolk across the island. However, a little more direction to get a first-time player moving might be the difference between spending weeks exploring and spending hours being frustrated before uninstalling the game. Giving the player more leads for local quests, for example, designed to introduce them to how the world works and how to be an effective adventurer - the player could still ignore these tutorials if he wanted, but they would be there to support a first-timer. There is some degree of this already in place in Morrowind, but I don't feel that there's enough.
Just as too much linearity can be a problem, too little can just as quickly sour a gaming experience. The feeling of confusion at not having the faintest clue where to go or what to do can turn a player off to a game very quickly. And even within the spectrum of linearity, the way in which those restrictions are imposed can have just as much of an effect on a player's experience, for good or ill. So when designing, it's important to consider the ramifications of player choice vs. player confusion, and ensure that your game will neither confuse the player with too many options nor make them feel constrained by arbitrary limits.
And please, no more invisible walls!
Read More...
So what is linearity, exactly? For the sake of this article, I'm going to define a linear game experience as one where the player does not have the ability to deviate from a path set by the designer. There may still be more than one path to take - a game where you can choose which of three pre-set paths to follow, each of which will be the same each time it is played through, is still a linear game. Note that this extends to tactical decisions as well. An in-game situation with only one solution is still linear. But what about a situation with one clearly optimal solution and several less-than-desirable ones? I would argue that such a situation is somewhat linear, but less so than the situation with a single way out. So linearity is not a black and white issue, but rather a scale of greater or lesser player freedom. In addition, some situations within a game might be highly linear, while others are very fluid.
How linearity is enforced is also an important factor in player enjoyment. If there is a reasonable in-game explanation for the fact that player choice is being limited, a player will be more accepting of the limitations than she might be if it is abundantly clear that her choices are limited because the designer just decided that a given choice would not be available. Invisible walls are the classic example of arbitrarily imposed limitations. Of course, most of the limitations placed on players are, to one degree or another, arbitrary - the important part is that they feel reasonable to the player.
Let's look at some popular games to explore these concepts more concretely.
Call of Duty vs. Brothers in Arms
There has been a flood of World War II shooters over the last few years, but the one that really stands out is Call of Duty. Not only was it a great game, but it's a perfect example of how linearity isn't always bad if used properly. The most obvious example is that, like almost all shooters, the player moves through a set progression of levels as the story moves forward. This sort of linearity is the standard for most games, and though it's not the only way of doing things, it works well enough. More importantly, within the game you play as a soldier, and so most of the time you're following orders. Soldiers aren't supposed to run off and do their own thing, so this context immediately gives the player a reason to accept limited choices.
The design of individual levels is linear as well - you can't just go running off in any direction you feel like, because there are barriers that prevent you from doing so. Sometimes the barriers are physical - fences or walls that prevent movement. Other times there is nothing to prevent you from running across a field except a row of small signs denoting a minefield. Sure, you could run that way, but you won't get far. Such a device feels right at home on a battlefield, and is an effective way to make the level feel much larger than it really is.
Call of Duty is a very linear game, on many levels. The thing is, you never feel like you're being constrained unduly. There is always a good reason for not being able to go outside the imposed limits. In addition, there is almost always a feeling of urgency to the missions that keeps you on track. Sure, you could go explore that cemetery or see what's around that corner, but your friends are being pinned down by a tank - if you don't do something right now, they'll die.
Compare this to another recent WWII shooter, Brothers in Arms: Road to Hill 30. You've got the same linear level sequence so common to this sort of game, no surprise there. The levels are also very linear, preventing you from running off across fields and away from the action, but in many cases, the only thing keeping you from exploring is...an invisible wall. Funny, I don't recall those being a major factor in troop movements during WWII. Within the levels, there is usually only one or two ways through a given firefight, with one being the clear best choice. This might not be so much of an issue if the player were just following orders, being directed by a superior officer at every step of the way, but the player is instead put in command of a group of soldiers. There's an expectation there that the player's decisions will really matter, when in reality the game is more or less on rails - and doesn't do much to hide that fact.
Morrowind
As an example of a game that might have tried too hard to get away from linearity, I'm going to examine The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. After a short introductory sequence and character creation, you are basically left to fend for yourself with minimal direction. Someone tells you to go and seek out a certain person in another town, but nothing forces you to do so. You could play the game for dozens of hours without ever meeting that person. There's so much to do and see that at first, the player is overwhelmed by options. There is almost nothing to indicate where it's safe to travel and where you'll meet a quick death, and no one telling you how to get by in the world.
On one level, such openness is refreshing - an inquisitive player can spend weeks exploring caves and delving into dungeons, or running quests for random townsfolk across the island. However, a little more direction to get a first-time player moving might be the difference between spending weeks exploring and spending hours being frustrated before uninstalling the game. Giving the player more leads for local quests, for example, designed to introduce them to how the world works and how to be an effective adventurer - the player could still ignore these tutorials if he wanted, but they would be there to support a first-timer. There is some degree of this already in place in Morrowind, but I don't feel that there's enough.
Just as too much linearity can be a problem, too little can just as quickly sour a gaming experience. The feeling of confusion at not having the faintest clue where to go or what to do can turn a player off to a game very quickly. And even within the spectrum of linearity, the way in which those restrictions are imposed can have just as much of an effect on a player's experience, for good or ill. So when designing, it's important to consider the ramifications of player choice vs. player confusion, and ensure that your game will neither confuse the player with too many options nor make them feel constrained by arbitrary limits.
And please, no more invisible walls!
Read More...
posted by Brendan at
10:58 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home