Amber Night

I was talking with a friend the other day who lamented the near-extinction of those old text-only games you played with your telnet clients and your Unix shells and, I am told, your parity bits.  They were so much more immersive he claimed, because you had to use your imagination.  Being that I have never played one of these text-only games (or “social simulators” my friend said with a straight face) I am naturally unqualified to write about them.  But it follows that if I am naturally unqualified, then I must be supernaturally qualified.  And with supernatural power comes supernatural responsibility.

Back in the days of yore (days of ur, for you native leet-speakers), when MUDs, MUSHs, MOOs and other acronyms that sound vaguely naughty–but aren't–ruled the day, role playing was a much more personal and immersive experience.  Or so I am told.  My personal online gaming history starts with Diablo II, where the height of role playing was making fun of Cain's cheesy Sean Connery voice, or trying to get your head around the fact that despite Charsi's voice-over, she is not the bubbly captain of Rogue Encampment High's cheerleading squad, but is in fact a highly skilled yet twistedly imaginative creator of fine weapons and armor.  Despite this, there was apparently a lot of role playing going on back in the day, for several reasons.  First, MUDs sprang from the pen and paper world of role playing, and second, all-text clients gave people free run of their imagination.  You didn't have some corporate artist's conception of what your fellow players and environment looked like, you relied on your own imagination. 

Richard Bartle would be spinning in his grave like a gyroscope if he were to hear this, but as a card-carrying morlock of the slacker generation, I simply can't be bothered with all that imagination-on-the-fly stuff while I'm trying to play a game, so I probably wouldn't enjoy MUDs.  Also, since he's not actually dead yet, Dr. Bartle would likely be clawing away at the satiny confines of his tiny, lightless prison, screaming and sobbing as his sanity quickly unraveled, and perhaps most importantly, generally not giving a shit what I or anyone else thought of role playing games, just dear god please get me the fuck out of this coffin.

MUDers will tell you that graphical MMOs lack the immersion factor of text MMOs because the game designers have robbed you of your ability to imagine the world you inhabit.  This makes sense.  When you read something like “you are standing in a forest clearing,” you the player get to decide what that clearing looks like.  To one person it's a pristine glade softly lit with golden streamers of sunlight gently falling to earth through the majestic evergreen treetops; a place of unearthly beauty where one of true heart may perchance glimpse the reclusive unicorn as it glides lithely, ghost-like through the misty foliage.  To others like me it's a forest clearing, and hopefully something in it needs killing because I am this close to ding.

Having said that, I do think MUDers have a valid claim.  Graphical MMOs suffer from meaningful immersion, but I don't think it's because they're graphical.  I think it's because of the way they are graphical.

For example, in graphical MMOs your name is nailed above your head in bright letters, proudly proclaiming to the world who you are and what guild you belong to, like some holographic state-issued mark of the beast, in a future world gone horribly wrong.  It is seemingly a necessary evil, but City of Heroes comes considerably close to proving that point wrong.  Through a robust and and visually rich character generator players can create characters who are almost (almost!) entirely different from anyone else on the server.  There are still only a limited number of major choices, such as tights, business suit, robot, etc.  And of course you've got your popular and oft-cloned templates (the ever popular slutty school girl, the ever popular slutty hooker, the ever popular slutty slut, etc), but in many cases it's possible to recognize your friends simply by their costumes.  No other MMO comes close to this level of individuality.  When graphical MMOs reach the point where the big name tag above your head is no longer required, immersion will improve.

It's the little things too.  When you click on a mob in Everquest II, this gigantic graphical targeting…whateverthefuckitis pops up underneath the target.  It spins and glows, and it is the brightest goddam thing on the screen.  You can be the fungus growing on a half-eaten bagel, and there will be absolutely no doubt in your non-existent brain that the thing standing on top of the glowy whateverthefuckitis is in fact your target.  Is this really necessary?  I know things get a little hairy in the heat of battle, but certainly there has to be a better way.  What if the glowy whateverthefuckitis faded out after a moment?  That would be at least better.

I could go on, but my point is that it's not the graphical part of graphical worlds that breaks immersion.  It's the way that we are expected to interact with the world that is broken.  There's no getting around mixing the mechanics of the game with the visual representation of the world.  Not yet anyway.  Interface designers need to work on ways to keep you in the world, away from the things you wouldn't normally see, if they truly want to build an immersive experience.

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 23rd, 2006 at 8:17 pm and is filed under Game Design, Main Page. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.