Anyways, on to more designery topics. Easing into complexity was a big thing I struggled with in this month's project. I think there's a certain appeal to the fantasy of "everything is normal and BOOM SHIT GOES NUTS!" but in practice that's a lot more difficult than it sounds. I started this project throwing in all sorts of obstacles and abilities right off the bat. Partly because I wanted to test them out, and partly because when most of use think of games, we think of them as completed pictures versus a lot of tiny pieces. It's important to make it clear to your player what they are supposed to be doing. When I dropped my player into a room with guns shooting, enemies jumping at them, and pitfalls of death, it became instantly clear that this was too much too fast.
After changing to a more smooth introduction, the game felt a lot better. Let's look at my first room. (I know, my collision blocks are an eyesore)
Starting the player in a position where you have one tiny block standing in your way, it's easy to come to the conclusion of "i should hop over that". And you just tought your player something valuable. Next I gave a jump two blocks high, "OK, I can jump that high. check".
The next jump worked out pretty well. You can make the jump from two different positions. I wanted a few buddies try this jump out and saw a lot of interesting responses. Most people tried the jump from Point A first. Where it got interesting is when people failed. Some tried to jump against the 3-high wall a few times, few decided to try from point B (which is easy), but most immediately rushed back to point A to try again. They become, almost instantly, fixated on this one minor goal, that they completely ignored that there was a much easier way right there. They failed at least 3 times before looking for point B. The ones who stuck it out would eventually get it though. I expected them to stop once they got it and pause for a second or say something, but none did. This makes me question the concept that we need to shower our players in rewards to get them to do anything.
I had a few ask me if it was possible to make it. I found this really interesting. Specifically when the people asked me if jump A was possible. I think being a video game, when presented with a jump like that, most people naturally assume that a game would not give them an impossible task. I noticed the people going for jump A were a bit more active gamers while the people who went for B were the more casual camp. I suppose games have trained group A that they should seek out the greater perceived challenge even with a lack of any form of reward? I'm not sure, but i found it interesting.
From there, the level forces you to back track to get the disc to open the blue door, then to do this again. What I liked here is that the A group, upon seeing it a second time, seemed to lose all determination to get the jump. They've done it once, so they knew it was possible, and that they could do it, but it wasn't until the second time through it that they realized there's an easier jump there, and they kind of had a "damnit, whatever" moment and went for jump B.
Anyways, I've talked too much about a single jump. :P
The second room I introduced hazards Originally I just had a "ramp" (I never got the character running up a ramp to work, which is already coded in tons of platformer engines... grrrr) where green balls of slime drop from the blue circle and roll downhill. Simple enough, just jump over the green things. But I found that some people didn't immediately realize that they were hazards I was a bit surprised here honestly, assumed knowledge would lead me to believe that stuff rolling at you would be bad. But it (apparently) wasn't readable. So I added a second "slime dropper" thing a bit earlier that just dropped slime from the ceiling. People immediately recognized this one, nobody got hit by the falling slime. This could be a question of graphic fidelity, if they were spikes would people have let the rolling slimes hit them?
With this set up, I was able to more clearly communicate the slimes as bad. Then giving the player a bit of a corner to jump out of stalled the player long enough for them to see slimes rolling down the ramp as well. After adding this nobody had any question as to what was going on.
BAH! This is no good, I fear that going through this thing room by room is going to make this blog post way too long. While I would like to talk about the next room introducing projectiles and teaching a player how to use duck, but I fear this is getting lengthy already, and that I need to wrap this up.
Conclusion
Overall, this is a huge failure as a game. But it was a huge learning opportunity for me as a designer. I've learned a lot of things that I will never repeat. And obtained some interesting perspective on level design and player behavior. I think that I may revisit this one after the year concludes, as I really enjoy the idea of a platformer and trying to make that interesting. I've got some concepts for an aesthetic and some further room puzzles and stuff that I'd love to try out. But when operating on such tight time tables, I fear I just went *WAY* out of scope here.
















