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Through Action or Inaction

… you may not cause or allow harm to come to a human being.

 

This message holds a much clearer and deeper meaning for me now than it did a month ago.

 

It was my aim to use it, and other rules like it, to inhibit a player’s actions in a video game. Partially as a point of tension, but also to put the player in a position to think outside of the usual suspects (smashing/shooting/stabbing/mangling/pummeling) when presented with an antagonist. I thought of it as a limitation or weakness, like Kryptonite.

 

Something about my perspective was way off-base. Perhaps I knew it then, subconsciously. Now there is no question. It’s just plain old screwed up.

 Don’t get me wrong. I love blasting baddies and slaying dragons as much as any rabid action/adventure fan. Some of the greatest games I’ve ever played are absolute fragfests. All this in mind, something about a character with the capacity but absolute lack of desire to hurt anyone was even more empowering.

 

Development was a bit of a blur. I know I learned a lot. I know I didn’t do it alone. And I am eternally grateful to everyone who supported our efforts throughout the process. The sticking point in regards to the message became less about the contest, or even what I wanted to deliver to the player. The more into unfamiliar territory I ventured, the more enraptured I became with the multitude of doors that opened simply by shutting one. (Well, two. The character can’t jump, either.)

 

I’m not going to go on some crusade, swearing an oath to make PacifistQuest IV (you heard it here first, it’s mine), but I am confident that I am capable of operating outside of the tropes typical to the games I like to play and endeavor to create. I like heroes. I like stories. I appreciate conflict. I like the notion of victory. How all of this will dovetail in the end is unclear at the moment. There’s SOMETHING there, and I just want to figure out what it is.

 

April 14th was easily the most bittersweet of days I’ve come to experience in my 30-ish years on this planet. So many firsts. My first Unity game (mostly) completed , my first rapid-fire development contest entry, the first game I ever contributed actual code on. I had been looking forward to this day for over a month. Crunch-time was a mix of heaven and hell, trial and error, frustration and fanatical feature refinement right up to the final minutes of the contest. The morning of April 15th loomed overhead like an anvil, and I was both excited and frightened to all hell.

 

When morning came, and news of the horrible events in Boston started flooding in, something inside me broke. I found myself reacting to tragedy in a way that felt alien. I’m typically good about compartmentalizing my immediate emotional responses to horrible horrible news. This time it was just different. I dodged the mainstream media much as I could, because I despise the spinning, the cute logos, the invasive reporters shoving microphones down people’s throats before blood has dried, while wounds are still fresh, and the pain is very very real. It didn’t matter, though. And I could not, for the life of me figure out why NOW of all times I found myself in a state of absolute outrage. Depression, fear, anxiety and defeat all trickled their way in and broke me down for the better part of the day.

 

I cannot know the pain those present must have felt and are still feeling first-hand. But I know now, that they are not alone. Just like somehow I knew I wasn’t alone. And the only thing that kept things in perspective for me was that singular message.

 

Do No Harm.

 

It started out as a contest theme. Now it’s a bit more of a mantra. I’ve done plenty of things I’m not proud of (as I’m sure most of us have), and I’ve hurt enough people on the way to fill an auditorium (maybe a small one) with those I owe a heartfelt apology to. There will always be things that trigger me, make me angry, make me irrational, or make me want to lash out. I know now that it’s my responsibility to manage those reactions as much as I know that it is my responsibility to bring no ill-intent upon my fellow man.

 

There is little I can do to change the course of human events on a global scale, nor do I have a desire to engage in politics, push agendas or my ideas of liberation upon others. That is not what I am built to do. I will instead, engage, entertain, and hopefully provoke thoughts, like the ones that were provoked in me, in others through my body of work, my games, my art and my interactions.

 

Ro Bo Peep, our EDGE Online Get Into Games 2013 entry is alive and well on this site. You can play it here, and feel free to tell us what you think, we’d love to get your opinion of it. The game plays best with a PC controller (XBox 360 optimally), but the keyboard controls are effective enough, considering the moderate (medium?) pace.

 

With an original score written by none other than Deann Baker of Filming ‘Round Midtown fame and programming savvy by Corey Frang (G-to-the-narf), it is a milestone for me (hopefully for all of us), and a shining example of what is possible in the smallest amounts of time with the right kind of people. Can’t thank you both enough, in addition to the slew of playtesters that got their hands on the game in its early phases, broke it down, and made me understand how to talk to them through play.

 

Not really certain what’s next, but I assure you that it will be significant!

 

I hope this message finds you well, reasonably happy, and hopeful for a bright future for yourself and others.

 

TTYL.

 

- Lelex

 

 

Keep Your Tools Sharp

“We have the tools, and we have the talent.”  - Winston Zeddemore (Ernie Hudson – Ghostbusters)

 

How many times do you have to change course before you end up on the right path? I’m coming to find that the answer is, “Until you get where you’re going.”

 

I suppose it helps to have a clear indication of where you’d like to be. More importantly, accepting the fact that talent + ambition ≠ results. Skill and commitment, however, go a long way.

 

It could be argued that some people have a knack for doing certain things. I don’t pretend to know the difference between right and left brain functions and the influence they have on what a person is and is not capable of. What I DO know is that the most consistent way to get better at something is to do it constantly. Even then, it’s not quite enough. Doing something the ‘wrong’ way leads to bad habits, so it behooves you to learn how to do things right, even if you know a shortcut that yields acceptable results. No amount of montage music is going to make things magically happen overnight (though it certainly helps alleviate the tension of the grind).

 

A Game Jam is a gathering of developers with varying skill sets (art, programming, sound, etc.), that come together for a short while (typically a few days) with the goal of cranking out a game or two in that period of time from start to finish. The thought of trying to execute within such a narrow window of time is indescribably intimidating. Nonetheless, there is a level of awe and respect that comes with seeing the results of those who participate, and continue to participate in events year round. Activities like ‘One-Game-A-Month’ have, until recently, terrified me into inaction. (Not to say that they are no longer terrifying, but I am no longer stunned into absolute avoidance.)

 

Last weekend, I set a goal.

 

I would give myself 72 hours and see exactly what I could come up with. A new project, from scratch, that I would then put on display regardless of my level of satisfaction with the results. The description for the game went a little something like this:

 

  • 2-D platform harvesting game (see: Terraria)
  • Procedurally generated levels
    • Random terrain, enemies, and environmental hazards
  • Physics integration (Gravity, air resistance, collision)
  • Sandbox/player-driven gameplay (non-linear, unimposing narrative)
  • Space-themed
    • Player takes on the role of a Probe, deployed to an unexplored planet with the goal of gathering resources
    • Probe must get back to its Extraction Zone in order to bring its haul of resources back to base before running out of fuel or being destroyed

The horizon firmly in sight, I got to work. I’ll save you the long-form exposition and simply say that I didn’t come close to completing it in time, nor adding all the features and mechanics I had hoped to. However, something much more valuable came to light that I wouldn’t have realized otherwise. The tools I’d confined myself to using were flexible, but limiting in a scope that I did not fully understand. It’s no mystery to anyone that’s kept up on my progress thus far that I have never considered myself a programmer, and as a result have been leaning heavily on a visual scripting tool that allows me to build game logic without the use of code-lingo/syntax. What I didn’t know then (and have been warned about by my elite code-savvy compatriots) was how crippling it would be in a situation where I needed a game engine that could do all the heavy lifting up front.

 

I built the Probe. Easy enough. Built the logic that makes him fly about the screen using mouse controls and throttle-based acceleration controls. Super exciting. Then I tried to build a level out of blocks. It worked, but then the nightmare started. Shit started breaking. The Probe stopped moving. The game, for all intents and purposes, locked up to the point of unplayability. I was devastated. I turned to my friends for help, and we attacked the problem from all sides.

 

Was I trying to render too many boxes? Was it due to the nature of real-time testing in Unity3d? Maybe I was expecting too much out of a ready-made game engine. Then someone suggested that I use an actual C# script to build the level, rather than expect uScript to handle it all. ‘Lo and behold, like magic, it worked perfectly. In a single moment, all of my fears of once again being forced to learn new skills vanished with the satisfaction of the results. My logic was sound. The concept was solid. My execution was where I went wrong. My skills were lacking. Now the project wasn’t about those 72 hours. It became an experiment in seeing how much things could improve if I just went about it the ‘right’ way. Piece by piece (with the mentoring of the aforementioned codeslingers) I rebuilt the engine using logic that was written purely in C# code rather than uScript. Imagine my surprise when it ran like a dream.

 

The game didn’t do everything I had set out to accomplish from the start, but the reinvention of the mechanics I had constructed led me to a single conclusion. I needed to learn C# if I was going to set my sights higher than simple prototypes and proof-of-concept results. That’s not to say that uScript hasn’t served me well, and won’t continue to do so. It’s a phenomenal tool for rapid prototyping and iterative design. But if I want to make something ‘production-ready’, it needed to be cleaned up, and served on a platter of delicious code-lingo.

 

So, again, I am humbled before the magnitude of skills I must acquire and develop in order to achieve my goals as an independent game designer. This is my chosen profession. My craft. My trade. My contribution to the world. It’s high time I started doing it right.

 

What became of the 72-hour project? It’s become a bit of an educational exercise for me. With no clear objective in mind, it’s easy to add features following a ‘wouldn’t it be cool if’ workflow. Whether it will amount to something that amounts to a completed game is not something I have decided on or care to concern myself with anymore. More than anything, it’s proof that I am capable of overcoming my self-imposed limitations in service of reaching my goals. I’ll continue working on it sporadically while Lil’ Nidas gets a C# overhaul. If some random idea can give me such a grand sense of satisfaction, I can only imagine what it will feel like when Spartans are hopping about on-screen as a result of my budding skills as a programmer, as opposed to the machinations of a hobbled designer with a good eye for workarounds.

 

If you’re curious about the game, you can play with it here. I call it ‘Explore-A-Tron’, and though there isn’t much to explore or do yet, and all the art is generic and placeholder, it brings me an unparalleled sense of pride.

 

I wish I could say that I know what’s supposed to happen next. As of now, all my plans have been sent sprawling as my eyes have opened to a much larger picture of possibilities. What I can say is this:

 

I will pursue this craft relentlessly. I will not be swayed from my goals. And by Lil’Nidas’s shield I WILL become a programmer.

 

- Lelex

From Bobblehead to Badass

“It is fun to explore these kick-butt characters.” -Liam Neeson

 

What does it take to be a memorable video game hero?

If I had to pick one thing and one thing alone, I would have to say…

Silhouette

 

Can you name them all?

A good game character stands out amongst their peers, enemies, and anything else they interact with. They are unique in their uniqueness. They are iconic. We come to expect them to stand and move a certain way. Whether at rest or in action, we can pick them out of a sea of on-screen distraction in an instant.

 

Beyond that, how is it possible to both contrast them against their surroundings, and still make them look like they belong?

 

I’ve been spending a lot of time contemplating the visual style I have in-mind for Lil’Nidas and The Agoge Trials game itself, and came to the realization that I hadn’t decided on much at all. Working from doodles and cobbled together 3d models makes it easier to prototype but something has definitely been missing.

 

Lil’Nidas started out as very much a caricature. What I needed was a distinctive character. I decided to draw inspiration from other characters I like (and others I’ve created previously). I’d run into quite a few problems animating Lil’Nidas considering the scale of his head and the proportions of his limbs, and as much as I think the helmet is a vital aspect of his appearance, there were other features that I knew I really had a desire to emphasize. Namely, his feet. (Don’t ask me why, because I won’t really have an answer for you other than that I think they make a character look really stable) Originally conceived to be ultra-lean, he ended up looking skinny. This feature was exaggerated even more in 3d.

 

(It would appear I also had a desire to emphasize other things in my original concept. I’ll let you find it.)

 

Just because a figure is small, does not mean they shouldn’t appear strong and stalwart. Lil’Nidas is a Spartan. He should look sturdy, immoveable and menacing (A hint of cutesy never hurt a game character either). Many of the actions he will take in-game will require a significant amount of agility. It helps to have a strong center of gravity. Big head/scrawny body is a little more Beavis and Bobblehead than I would prefer.

 

 

A while ago I swore to maintain simplicity. I felt that promise should carry over to Lil’Nidas as well. His armor was downright sdistracting. It should put the FUN in FUNction, while at the same time being wholly reflective of the world he lives in. I decides that his Sparta was not the Ancient Greece that we understand, but something more fantastic. I don’t know if ‘Hyper-Fantasy’ is a thing, but I’m calling dibs on it now just in case. I imagine it somewhere between the New Gods and Soul Edge/Calibur , where armor is bulky and solid, weapons are huge, and architecture is impossibly epic (Final Fantasy 7, minus the technology).

 

The red crest has returned

 

Though I’m not sure exactly what it will entail, I am looking forward to seeing how far this ‘hyper-fantasy’ thing will take us (Lil’Nidas and I), and hope that you’re looking as forward to seeing this project come to fruition as much as I am. A New Year, a new look, and another chance to say that this will be my year to realize some dreams.

 

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts on Lil’Nidas’s new look. Feel free to comment below or leave feedback on our Facebook page!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

- Lelex