• What is Love, part 1

    • Lane Davis
    • Design
    • 17 April 2015

    Last week, I started covering the broad-strokes design goals for Fingeance. One of those goals is to build a MMO-like level of attachment, glory, and drama in the fastest time possible. To get there, we’ll be building in three elements:

    • Stakes – Win big. Lose big.
    • Cohesion – Teamwork is paramount. Everyone pulls together.
    • Attachment – Your character means something and is hard to replace.

    The last article discussed Stakes, and how we’ll raise them by adding in Roguelike elements like unlockables and optional permadeath. Today, we’ll take on Cohesion. This topic is a little more slippery than last week’s. It turns out that raising stakes is a pretty one-dimensional problem: make the highs higher and the lows lower. Unifying players, however, requires steady care and analysis of every part of our game. Getting people to work together and feel good about it is tough. As a designer, you’re pulled in two directions: making the game approachable for new players, but tough enough to be enjoyable for veterans.

    This is paramount: new players must be able to contribute to the team. We’ve seen enough games where poor players actually drag the team down (MOBAs, I’m looking at you) that we know how emotionally draining it can be. As a frequent 0-8 Ziggs mid, I know that whatever team I’m on will suffer for about 50 minutes just because I decided to log in that day. They’ll let me know about it, too. With Fingeance, we don’t want to inflict that on anyone. In a perfect social game, even the most inveterate player should want her kid brother to hop in.

    On the other hand, players resent feeling babied. As players mature, they’ll want to be able to stretch their limbs and show off the skills they’ve acquired. Yes everyone is an asset, but if you’re good, you should be able to be a shining hero for the team.

     

    The Othello Principle

    These principles together might be called “low skill floor, high skill ceiling” or “easy to learn, hard to master.” Violating one or both can lead to pitfalls, even in the most polished games.

    Early after its release, Diablo III suffered this. At its highest difficulty, Diablo’s monsters gained 110% additional hit points per additional player added to the game. This meant that, playing with a friend, you killed monsters slower than you would by yourself. To make the game more multiplayer-friendly, they reduced that number first to 70%, then to 50%.

    Throughout its impressive tenure, World of Warcraft also suffered. Don’t get me wrong: the behemoth is still alive and well, but partying-up at low levels has never been efficient. Unlike in early Diablo III, joining forces with friends does make you more powerful. However, experience gets split among the party. Players level up faster solo than they do as a team. For that reason, grinding levels in WoW continues to be a lonely experience.

    Team games with level-up mechanics, including DotA 2 and Smite, offer an acute example. Here, your lack of skill directly feeds the enemy team. Games like these often compensate by adding catch-up mechanics like earning extra gold for slaying players on a kill streak.

    On the other hand, some games offer so little challenge that experienced players become bored. Despite its admirable qualities, Super Smash Brothers: Brawl‘s co-op campaign suffered a bit here. The game was clearly not meant to be played co-operatively. The player characters had very little in terms of synergy, meaning that playing co-op felt like four people each playing a single-player game that just happened to take place in the same room. Adding to this, enemies don’t scale in number or in power to match the number of players. A Smash vet can plow through the entire game solo, without needing to rely on his or her team.

    Alright, hopefully that’s enough examples. Next week, I’ll discuss how Fingeance is tackling this balance. There will be a pop quiz to boot, so be ready!