作者：Eric Schwarz

几天前，《超越光速》（以下简称《FTL》）刚刚发行。作为一款太空模拟游戏，《FTL》的探索理念并不独特，但是它那精简的呈现方式使它从太空主题的游戏中脱颖而出，该游戏全部采用3D仿真模式，它移除了帝国殖民元素，以舰队之间激烈的即时对抗以及船员管理机制取胜。

作为一款出色的游戏，《FTL》收到不少积极的反馈。然而我投入越多的时间，我就越想知道为何它能获此殊荣。在游戏领域内不乏更大型、更精致、更复杂，内容更丰富的游戏。然而，《FTL》的“运作”方式就足以保持它的趣味性。

当我越加反复思考这个问题时，我更意识到《FTL》的成功源于它的局限性，而不是它的目标。并不是因为它提供了自由，而是赋予玩家合适的自由。并不是因为它具有复杂的玩法，而是其玩法要求我作出选择而不是反应。而且，比起我在某段时间内所体验的游戏，《FTL》可称得上一款真正的电子游戏。在体验了今年主流游戏行业中最大型的游戏以及RPG游戏之后，《FTL》着实让人眼前一亮。

Roguelike的特点

实际上，Rouguelike不再是一种全新或模糊的游戏风格。自前几年《矮人要塞》、《地下城冒险》、《我的世界》、《Spelunky》和《The Binding of Isaac》的发行获得一系列成功之后，roguelikes已被列入主流行列。另外，力图效仿《Rogue》的传统roguelike游戏也已经淡出视野，取而代之的是采用永久死亡、随机生成内容以及融合其它风格的全新roguelike理念的游戏。

为何roguelike的作用如此显著？其中一个特殊原因是玩家被它所呈现出的无穷无尽的挑战所吸引。有时，roguelike游戏几乎无可战胜，其中的难度并非需要忍受长时的战役或者完成艰难的计划，而是需要熟悉掌握游戏本身的原始机制。游戏一开始会呈现难以逾越的障碍，之后随着玩家不断地重复体验，游戏进程变得更具预测性和制服性，掌握游戏的基础知识有助于做出战略性抉择，而之后当玩家不断重复体验游戏时，游戏进程会继续向复杂性过渡，从而会显示出更多的细微差别之处。

Roguelike(from gamasutra)

roguelike的核心元素是选择。实际上，这也是roguelike游戏制作的基础。我是喝下药剂看它有何效果，还是将它出售换取一些金币呢？我是打败这些敌人，然后夺取他们的财宝，还是说他们对我而言过于强大？我是向左走还是向右走呢？我是原路返回收集一些物资，还是继续前行呢？实际上，roguelike的玩法与玩家的反应能力以及技能无关，它通常更需要玩家做出正确的选择。在roguelike游戏中获胜，主要依靠完美的计划和快速制定决策的机制（比如有限的食物、货币等等），保证玩家可以不断地权衡短期目标和长期目标。

这种中心元素既是roguelike游戏的出众之处，又是它们长盛不衰的原因。即使玩家掌握了roguelike提供的每个机制，了解所有组成部分、所有道具的功能和怪兽的能力，所有这些元素构造的随机性却意味着玩家仍需做出决定。而其他许多游戏系统却总会因死记硬背特点或缺乏让玩家自我表达的渠道，而随着时间发展变得机械化，roguelike游戏却很擅长避开这种情况。

Roguelike提供的自由度

我们总会批评比如动作、射击这类游戏并未在玩法上为玩家提供自由。通常我们将此责任归咎于关卡设计：游戏中的通道就是缺少自由的象征，因此我们倾向于将此问题归结为关卡设计上缺少开放性。相反，我们极力推荐提供大量自由度的游戏，目前，开放性、无限制的游戏可能会在Metacritic上获得最高分数，通常这类游戏可以售出成百上千万份。

当然，以上所述皆为谬论。如果改变《战争机器》中的关卡设计，删掉游戏中设置的通道，该游戏也不会有多少改善。《死亡空间》中，主要吸引玩家的设置就是光线昏暗的通道内紧张的行动，这可能并不符合大众的喜好，但是将该游戏转变为开放式的情节也不会有多大作用。更宽泛地说，不少评论指出，线性问题导致游戏缺乏自由度，游戏中的某些目标是事先定义好，并且需以特定的顺序完成。就我所知，线性问题同样不是游戏设计存在的问题。在我看来，游戏缺乏自由度的主要原因是，游戏并未提供玩家往哪个目标发展的选择。

FTL is nothing but corridors(from gamaustra)

人们通常放大了玩家控制的游戏系统中存在的自由问题。比如《战争机器》这款游戏展现了100多款不同的枪支，而且角色的行动既快速又紧张——玩家很少静止不动，他必须做出瞬间反应。除此以外，游戏中没有真正的选择。虽然表面上，玩家可以选择是躲避在掩蔽物的后面，还是瞄准目标射击，一般，游戏系统以二选一的方式控制他们的行为：你有生命值吗？如果没有，隐藏。如果有，射击。你有弹药吗？如果没有，重装弹药。如果有，射击。几乎每种情况只有一个正确的答案，而这通常无需玩家具有制定战略，精密思考的能力，因为游戏能够记住每个模式，提供正确的反应。这才是大多数现代游戏普遍缺乏自由的真正原因，而不是故事的线性度和关卡设计问题。

同时，这也是《FTL》真正出彩，保持持久性的原因。该游戏围绕中心战斗展开——玩家必须权衡短期需求，比如战斗需要准备人员和物资，中期需求，比如升级和修复，以及长期需要，比如之后可以打败强大敌人的能力。计划是重点，但是调节性也是关键，战斗的成功需取决于在正确的时间做出正确的决定。游戏玩法的随机元素迫使玩家不断地重新考虑、重新修改自己的决定，同时这些元素也包含着一些有趣的选择。你在登上无人战舰搜索物资时，是否知道可能有海盗准备在船上进行伏击？你在帮助民用船只时是否渴望获得奖励，或者收取贿赂，从而把暴徒驱赶到其它方向？其实，有了可行的目的地以及逐渐发展的时间限制，玩家在旅行方向上的选择性也逐渐增多。

如同以上所讨论的roguelike，《FTL》在选择上富有预见性。游戏机制同其它元素的结合使得决定变得越发有趣。游戏中从来没有一个“正确的”选择，只有一些随着游戏情形变化，产生不同好处或劣势的选择。当大火在玩家的船上引燃时，让船员离开自己驻守的岗位，赶过去处理这件事情就是更好的办法？或者打开外面的大门，将大火引出船外，但同时会在一段时间内失去该地区的氧气？随着游戏的继续发展，玩家会获得越来越多的渠道，扩增自己的决策。随着防爆门的升级，船上的大火不会迅速蔓延，这使得玩家可以想出其它不同的计策。《FTL》提供的游戏玩法操纵赋予玩家大量的自由，即使游戏进程从未真正远离玩家舰队的通道。

然而，游戏同样不要提供过多自由。有些游戏设置巨大的开放场景，玩家可以探索自己支配的丰富内容和玩法，这可能会导致游戏机制的完全瘫痪。《上古卷轴V：天际》允许玩家在无止境的主题公园内探索每个角落、每个缝隙，而玩家需接受强制性的抉择，从而可以在任意时间内自由地做任何事情，由于游戏中的每个决定的最终结果一模一样：游戏对玩家提出的问题总给予“肯定”回答。最近，我体验了一款相似的大型RPG游戏《Inquisitor》——而实际上，游戏中所谓的“自由”就是让我按照一定顺序完成一系列目标，而不是我如何做。如果游戏中没有失败的机会，不存在可攻克的障碍、拒绝的风险性，没有战斗，没有需要遵循的规则，没有胜利——那么，游戏中也就不存在玩法。

总结

这就是为何《FTL》给我一种耳目一新的体验。先前我所玩的大多数游戏要么阻止玩家进行实验，要么纯粹将玩家当做被动的看客，然后在混乱的场面和庄严的战斗中上演自己的技能。然而，《FTL》让我有机会驻扎在一个严密控制的系统中，尽自己所能进行操控。该游戏没有赢/输这类二选一的机制，它的关键之处在于提醒人们，最引人注目的游戏会让玩家自己选择，构造自己的目标、计划和规则，游戏不会局限于玩家的能力，而是在系统内为玩家呈现出更多的选择。（本文为游戏邦/gamerboom.com编译，拒绝任何不保留版权的转载，如需转载请联系：游戏邦）

FTL: Roguelikes & Freedom vs. Choice

by Eric Schwarz

FTL: Faster Than Light released just a few days ago after one of the earlier successful Kickstarter campaigns, and after winning several awards at various independent game festivals.  As a space-simulation roguelike, the ideas that it explores are not entirely original – however, its stripped-down presentation sets it apart from other space-themed games, with full 3D simulation and empire colonization removed in favour of intense ship-to-ship combat and crew management as the player evades the ever-encroaching dominion of the rebel fleet.

FTL is an excellent game, though I think that goes without saying given that it’s received so much positive feedback.  But the more I’ve played it, the more I’ve got to wondering why exactly why that is the case.  There are bigger, prettier, more complicated games out there, and ones with much more content.  Somehow, FTL just “works” and manages to remain fun game after game.

The more I turned the idea over, the more I realized that FTL’s success stems from limitations, not ambition.  It’s not that it provides freedom, but the right kind of freedom.  It’s not that it has complex gameplay, but rather that the gameplay demands that I make decisions rather than reactions.  And, perhaps more than any other title I have played in some time, it is truly a videogame.  After having gone through some of the mainstream game industry’s biggest titles this year, as well as one particularly massive RPG, this is extremely refreshing.

Star Trek: The Roguelike

Roguelikes are not exactly a new or even a particularly obscure genre anymore.  After successes over the last few years like Dwarf Fortress, Dungeons of Dredmor, Minecraft, Spelunky and The Binding of Isaac, roguelikes have been introduced to, relatively speaking, more mainstream gamers than in the past.  What’s more, the traditional roguelike model of literally being Rogue-like has also given way to a whole new genre of games which take roguelike concepts such as permanent death and randomly-generated content, and combine them with other styles of gameplay.

Why do roguelikes work so well?  One particular reason that players are so drawn to them is the immense challenge most of them present.  By presenting gameplay which can appear, at times, nearly insurmountable, the difficulty is not so much in enduring a lengthy campaign or completing difficult scenarios, but rather mastering the raw mechanics of the gameplay itself.  What starts out as impenetrable becomes more and more predictable and tame as players continue to play over and over again – basic learning gives way to tactical and strategic decisions, which continue to become more and more complicated as the game is replayed over and over and more nuance becomes apparent.

At the core of a roguelike is choice.  In fact, that’s pretty much all roguelikes are built upon.  Do I drink the potion and see what happens, or sell it for some gold?  Do I fight these enemies and take their treasure, or are they too powerful for me?  Do I go left or right?  Do I skip backtracking to get supplies or press onward?  The actual gameplay of a roguelike has less to do with reflexes and skills, and much more to do with making the right decisions.  Success in a roguelike is typically a matter both of good planning and good immediate decision-making – mechanics like limited food, currency, etc. ensure that players constantly have to make trade-offs between the short and long term.

This central choice element is what sets rougelikes apart and what gives them their staying power.  Even if the player has mastered every single mechanic that a roguelike has to offer, knows all the random components, knows what all the items and monsters are capable of, the randomness of the configuration of all these individual elements means that the player is never, ever relieved of the need to make a decision.  Whereas many games become automatic over time through rote memory work or the simple lack of expression the player has within the game systems, roguelikes positively excel in this respect.

In Space, There Are No Corridors

We tend to criticize a lot of titles, usually action-oriented ones, shooters, and so on, for not providing players with freedom in gameplay.  Often we place the blame on level design: the corridor is the symbol of a lack of freedom, and we tend to assume that the problems in many titles boil down to a lack of openness in the level design.  Conversely, we tend to praise games which provide us with lots of freedom, and currently open-ended, limitless titles are the ones which tend to get the highest Metacritic scores and often sell millions upon millions of copies.

Of course, this is a fallacy.  Gears of War would not necessarily be made a better game if the level design changed and the corridors were dispensed with.  Dead Space’s primary gameplay hook, tense action in dimly-lit corridors, may not be to everyone’s taste, but suddenly transforming the game into an open-ended affair would not improve things.  More broadly, this critique speaks to linearity in games, wherein certain objectives are predefined and must be completed in a particular order.  Similarly, linearity, as we tend to understand it, is not really a problem in game design either.  Not having the option to pick which story objective to go after does not make for a worse game.

What should be put under the magnifying glass more often is freedom with respect to the systems the player operates within.  A game like Gears features a hundred different guns and the action is fast and intense – the player is rarely standing still and has to make split-second reactions.  Except, these are not really choices.  While superficially the player has the option of either ducking behind cover or aiming and shooting, the systems that regulate this behaviour are nearly binary: do you have health?  If no, hide.  If yes, shoot.  Do you have ammo?  If no, reload.  If yes, shoot.  In almost every instance there is only one correct response, and this response has a lot less to do with the player’s ability to devise strategies and think critically as it does with the ability to recognize patterns and provide the correct response.  This is the real problem with the pervasive lack of freedom in many modern titles, not the linearity in story and level design in and of itself.

This is where FTL really shines and gets its staying power.  The game revolves around a central conflict – the player must balance the short-term needs of personnel and resources in combat, medium-term needs like upgrades and repairs, and long-term needs like the ability to beat tough enemies much later on.  Planning is essential, but adaptability is also crucial, and success depends upon making a combination of the right decisions at the right times.  The random element to gameplay (scenarios visited on a minute-by-minute basis, supplies and missions available, etc.) constantly forces players to reconsider and revise decisions, and all of these elements themselves tend to have interesting choices contained with.  Do you board a derelict vessel to search for supplies, knowing there may be pirates ready to ambush you aboard?  Do you help a civilian ship in hopes of reward, or take a bribe from the brutes harassing it to look the other way?  And more broadly, decisions on where to travel are augmented both by the available destinations and by the ever-creeping time limit.

Like the roguelikes discussed above, FTL is predicated on choice.  The game mechanics interact with each other in enough ways that decisions are both constant and constantly interesting.  There is never one “right” decision to make, only shades of grey with different upsides and downsides as the rest of the gameplay situation changes.  When a fire breaks out on-board the player’s ship, is it a better idea to send crew to deal with it, abandoning their stations, or does it make sense to open the outer doors and suck the fire out of the ship, but also deprive the area of oxygen for a time?  As the game goes on, the player gains more and more ways to augment the decisions being made.  With the Blast Doors upgrade, fire aboard the ship is incapable of spreading far, which means that the player can make other decisions differently.  There is immense freedom in navigating the gameplay FTL offers, even though the game never actually leaves the corridors of the player’s own vessel.

Yet it’s equally important that this freedom is not too great.  Some titles offer huge open worlds to explore and such as wealth of content and gameplay at the player’s disposal that it can be downright paralyzing.  The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim gives the player an endless theme park to explore every nook and cranny of, yet this freedom to do anything, any time comes at the expense of compelling decision-making, because every decision is ultimately the same: since the game never pushes back at the player, the answer to the player’s questions is always “yes.”  I recently played through Inquisitor, a similarly massive RPG – but even then, its “freedom” largely amounted to the order in which I completed a set of objectives, not how I did it.  Without any chance of failure, any barriers to overcome, any risk of denial, there can be no struggle, no rules to follow, no victory – no gameplay.

Closing Thoughts

This is why FTL, for me, has been such a refreshing experience.  After playing so many titles which discourage experimentation and which simply treat the player as a passive observer to the mayhem and majesty playing out, it gives me an opportunity to inhabit tightly-controlled systems and do my best to regulate them.  Without the binary win/lose mechanics of so many other titles, FTL has been a crucial reminder that the most compelling games are those which are built upon the choices players make, and construct their goals, scenarios and rules not to limit what the player can do, but to provide more of those choices within the systems.(source:gamasutra)