这是我关于RPG谜题设计文章的第一部分。本系列文章的目标是鼓励大家深入思考谜题设计，并为你的RPG提供谜题设计的灵感和动力。

今天我们将讨论绵是常见于RPG中的一些核心谜题类型。这些并不只是游戏中可能出现的几种谜题类型，而是包含了大量谜题的广泛分类，本文将成为深入探索谜题设计的一个切入点。

环境谜题

我想首先讨论的是环境谜题。这些谜题要求玩家利用周围的环境。玩家进入一个新房间或区域，迎面而来的就是其中的挑战。更重要的是，该区域包含玩家破解挑战所需要的工具。

为了解开环境谜题，玩家应该与周围环境互动。

环境谜题的一个最简单例子就是迷宫——其环境本身就是一个谜题。但迷宫却有点无聊；另一个例子可能就是经典的推砖块谜题。想象一下这幕场景：玩家走进一个房间并看到一堆物体挡住了去路。他要前进的唯一方法就是移开这些物体，避免它们挡道。这是一个相当直接的方法，但玩家并不需要用上那些他在该区域之外获得的东西（游戏邦注：除了他在之前的游戏过程中所收获的经验）。

（《Limo》有一个相当直接的玩法和最少的控制方式，但其环境挑战却颇具深度。）

让我们想象一个更复杂的环境谜题。玩家发现自己身处某个区域，他推开一些木块就会掉到地下。当他返回地面时，才意识到这些木块对他来说并没有什么用，即使他能够移动它们。进行一些探索之后，他发现一个会让房间浸满水的开关，而这水会让木块飘浮起来。他可能就会关掉开关，等房间的水排出后，重新将这些木块布置成一座桥，然后再次放水。此时他就可以越过水面到达另一端的门。

这种谜题拥有多个步骤，但玩家的行动全部涉及使用环境所提供的物品。他并不需要带上外来的道具或机制来解决这一挑战。

注意，环境中的物体并不一定了无生气。一个角色或敌人也可能成为环境谜题中的元素之一。例如，一个谜题可能需要玩家诱使怪物爬上一个开关。对此我仍会将其称为环境谜题，因为怪物就是我们所需操作的环境之一。

库存谜题

与环境谜题不同，库存谜题要求玩家将道具带到挑战中。为取得进步，玩家必须获得一项能够助其完成谜题的道具。这些道具可能来自当前区域，但最佳库存谜题通常会迫使玩家回顾其旅程，并翻翻口袋找到最佳答案。

为了解开库存谜题，玩家应该拥有一个或数项之前获得的特殊道具。

这方面的最简单例子就是要求玩家拿钥匙开启的门锁或箱子。在某些游戏中，玩家应该从自己的道具列表中选择出钥匙。在其他游戏中，该门锁或箱子会自动确认玩家拥有钥匙并自动开启。这两种做法的理念都是相同的——尽管其互动类型给人的感觉并不像是真正的谜题。

（《猴岛的秘密》以及其他冒险游戏的玩法就围绕玩家的库存列表而展开。）

有些库存谜题有点复杂，但其本质却相当直接。在RPG中创造能够给玩家带来真正挑战的库存谜题颇具难度，所以此类谜题通常与支线任务或交易序列有关。有些游戏会利用允许玩家利用所搜集物品来创造新道具的锻造系统，其他游戏则会采用更像经典冒险游戏的做法，让库存道具成为完成谜题的关键。

机制谜题

在一定程度上，每个谜题都是一个机制谜题。毕竟，你在游戏中所做的一切在技术上都与玩法机制有关。在本文我仅列出那些并非每款游戏都有的独特机制。

为了解决机制谜题，玩家必须利用一个或多个游戏机制来操纵谜题元素。

这个定义相当广泛——这是有原因的。游戏可以拥有多种独特机制或能力，而这又可能产生多样而令人难忘的谜题。

最简单的机制谜题例子就是与NPC对话。当你将一款RPG浓缩到最小程度时，其默认机制就是显示对话的信息框。这个例子看起来像个站不住脚的借口——但事实的确如此。机制谜题的要点在于，它们在每款游戏中都不尽相同。基于机制的谜题可能拥有极大的深度和变化，我奉劝RPG开发者在自己的游戏中整合独特的玩法机制。

（《塞尔达传说》中的谜题鼓励玩家去利用Link多种多样的工具。）

这里以我的一个老项目为例。该游戏多数时候像传统RPG游戏，其中有一个允许玩家隐身的中心机制。当玩家处于隐身状态时，其他对象就可以穿过他/她的身体（没错，这已经不仅仅是隐身术了）。引进这个机制时，它主要用户监视其他角色或避开敌人。随着游戏的发展，该机制也与谜题交织在一起。最明显的一例是当玩家需要穿过某个挡道的物体——但他/她在隐身时却不能移动时，他/她就需要激活一个允许自己在隐身期间穿过该物体的传送带。

这种谜题利用了环境元素，但如果没有隐身机制就无法解题。换句话说，玩家总能控制给予他/她更多同游戏环境互动的能力。

总结

每种类型都有其存在意义，但我要提醒你不要在未吃透每种谜题的用法时就将其强塞到游戏中。有些游戏很好地利用了所有的谜题类型，但其他采用同种做法的游戏却有可能因此给玩家带来唐突而意外的挑战。如果你想让玩家以特定方式解题，引进不同的解决方法就显得很唐突。我并不是说你不能向主要使用环境谜题的游戏引进库存谜题，而是指应该用一种让玩家觉得自然的方式引进一种新挑战。最大化这些谜题类型的重叠性，避免让玩家置于一种被迫忘掉之前所掌握技能的境地。

要根据玩法考虑游戏主题。你想让游戏呈现什么感觉？你的游戏该如何呈现这种感觉？玩家该如何体验游戏以及你所创造的这个世界？每种谜题类型，以及这些类型的合体，都会对游戏机制产生影响。为你的游戏设计谜题或挑战时，要想想该如何令其兼容这些类型，该如何更好地让该谜题融入游戏本身更大的氛围中。

无论你在一个谜题中投入多少精力，都要考虑其整个体验，以及该谜题与游戏的兼容情况。

现在让我们进入本文第二部分，探讨一个RPG谜题的各个组成元素。即使是最简单的谜题也可以拆分成多个组件。

当你设计一个谜题时，要考虑每个谜题元素所扮演的角色，它们如何彼此互动。设计优秀的谜题并没有什么特别的方法——人们通常在想透一切如何兼容之前，就萌生出了谜题的部分想法。也有人是先想出一个大概理念，然后再逆向展开工作。无论你采用哪种方法，都要知道游戏中的谜题具有以下元素，了解每个谜题以及它所发挥的作用，不但会让谜题更为强大，还会让设计过程更加顺利。

目标

每个谜题都有一个作用。当玩家进入含有一个谜题的新房间或区域时，他首先想到的一件事就是“为什么我该解决这个谜题？”或者“我解决这个谜题会怎么样？”如果玩家没有解开谜题的理由，那么谜题就会丧失其挑战魅力，并且会更像是一个路障。

想象一下游戏中的地下城。将整个地下城想象成一个巨大的谜题——其中有个清晰的目标：打通地下城（游戏邦注：或者迎战boss，去找到一件遗迹等等）。在这个地下城中，有数个更小的谜题组成了地下城的内容。让我们说这是一个经典的水中地下城，为了解来主要谜题，玩家必须提升水位。这是另一个目标和谜题。为了到达他能够提升水位的区域，玩家又必须解开一系列更小的谜题，每个谜题又都有自己更直接的目标——例如找到打开一扇门的钥匙。每个谜题都有自己的目标，但当它们融合在一起时，就组成了一个挑战序列，让玩家更接近于自己的终极目标。如果你难以设计谜题或地下城，不妨根据主要目标将其划分成更小的谜题。这样你就能想出如何将谜题组合在一起。

目标中的目标

不存在无目标或目的的谜题。不要无故在游戏中塞入谜题（最明显的例外情况是直接的谜题游戏，但即便如此，其目标也是“进入下一个谜题”）。所幸我们很容易想出一个目标，尤其是在地下城中。让我们看看一些RPG谜题的普遍目标、

*百宝箱或道具：以道具作为玩家完成小型谜题的奖励，或者作为玩家解决一个额外谜题时的奖品。通常情况下，该道具将成为在更大的地下城中闯关的重要物品（例如钥匙），或者玩家继续前进的道具（例如《塞尔达传说》中的做法）。

*开关：就像前文所说的水塔例子，有时候一个谜题的目标就是解决一个更大谜题的组成部分。这里的“开关”可以指许多事情。它可以是打开一扇门的开关，或者令玩家更接近一个更大“外在”目标的新物品。它甚至可以是另一个谜题（只要它的布局并不会令玩家困惑）。

*事件或怪物：最明显的一个例子就是boss或迷你boss。解开一个谜题的目标就是让玩家更接近于boss战役——一种将玩家引向另一种终极挑战的挑战类型。有时候，该事件可能是拯救一位同盟或者一幕深刻了解角色的场景。无论是哪一种，其谜题奖励有可能是推动故事向前的场景。设计具有此类目标的谜题的难处在于让玩家清楚地了解为何自己需要解开这一谜题。他需要动机。因此游戏要给予他一个前面有何期待的暗示。

*地点或门：谜题的最直接目标莫过于“走到另一端”。这并没有什么问题——通常一个谜题的作用就是迫使玩家解决挑战以便取得进展。我要提醒开发者在自己的地下城中不要仅设置此类谜题，否则游戏可能因此而过于线性或重复性。这种谜题最好用于那些检测玩家在之前挑战中的技能掌握情况的重要区域。

有时候谜题的目标会更为抽象——例如让玩家保护一名NPC或在一定时间内完成一项任务。游戏目标并不一定总是很简单——但它们必须让玩家清楚。多数谜题一开始就具有玩家能够清楚看到的目标：“为了到达X，我必须解开这个谜题。”有时候，在解开谜题过程中，玩家必须探索自己究竟在做什么——探索目标（或者探索新目标）可能给玩家带来独特的挑战，但这类谜题具有让玩家产生困惑的可能——过于依赖这类谜题可能让玩家受挫。无论你采用什么做法，都要确保每个谜题的目标都能够为玩家所理解，从而使该谜题在游戏也具有存在意义。

组件

谜题的关键就在于玩家与之互动的零件。我将其成为谜题组件，但这可能是一切事情。玩家在谜题中可以操纵的任何元素都是一个组件。这里的关键词在于“操纵”。强大的谜题组件会最大化玩家的交互性。

有些谜题可能不含组件，但这些谜题通常也更无趣。谜宫就属于这种典型：玩家发现迷宫很很聊后，就有可能觉得抓狂，因为这其中的互动性很少——玩家只是在其中瞎逛，直至到达目标为止。另一个此类例子就是简单的“找到开门人”这种谜题。钥匙看起来像是这种情况中的谜题组件，但实际上钥匙却是目标的一部分，因为玩家并不会以任何方式操作钥匙。

但开发者创造出不含大量组件的优秀谜题也并非不可能之事。事实上，最具创意的谜题通常会让玩家置身于必须从单个谜题组件中获得多个里程的情况中。但不要因此认为必须添加额外组件制作极为复杂的谜题。常见的RPG谜题组件可能包含：

*推方块：推方块几乎出现于每款RPG中，因为它们具有无限发挥空间。我不建议制作让一个房间充满需要玩家移动方块这种简单的谜题（除非它出现在游戏早期，以及首次引进这一概念）。因为这类谜题会变得具有重复性，也没有多大创意。想象一下使用方块的新方法。不要因为方块是陈旧元素就不敢使用，关键在于你是用什么方法来移方块。

*陷阱：关于陷阱的定义十分广泛——任何可能让玩家受伤或阻碍其前进的东西都可以称之为陷阱。我推崇在那些并没有直接谜题的区域使用陷阱来增加趣味性这种做法。在一个谜题中，陷阱可以增加额外挑战，甚至可能与其他谜题元素有关。谜题中几乎有无限多种陷阱设置的选项。尖角、无底洞、传送带、火焰等等。但要注意滥用危险元素，因为这可能会令玩家受挫。

*开关：谜题的目标可能是开关，但开关也可以是谜题中的一个整合零件。想象不同类型的开关：有些可能允许玩家打开或关闭，有些可能在一定时限后就会自动关闭，有些可能会可以玩家施力以保持其下压，有些可能要求玩家在一定距离激活。总之要充分发挥创意（但不要偏离开关类型的一致性）——给予玩家越多交互性越好。开关具有极大的潜在发挥空间。

*怪物或角色：怪物可以为谜题添加深度。它们不但可以作为额外的危险元素，其本身也可作为谜题工具。想象一下按压开关——按压一个方块并不难，但为何不引诱一个敌人站在开关上？我还建议开发者在地下城中使用NPC，因为这里有大量经常被忽视的游戏空间。增加另一名角色（支持玩家或制造障碍）都可以为谜题增加新的维度。

当然，这些并不是唯一的选项。几乎任何东西都可能成为谜题组件。想象一下游戏环境，以及玩家能够与之交互的方式。你可能想在上述常见组件中增加一些独特元素。那就尽情发挥创意吧。不要受限于几乎每款RPG都能看到的传统简单谜题。考虑游戏的独特机制，并想出玩家与新潜在谜题组件互动的方式。

声明：要确保玩家清楚地看到每个谜题的重要组件。开发者通常容易陷入“隐藏”重要组件而创造挑战的倾向——但这并不是创造挑战，而是制造受挫感。谜题挑战应该在于玩家能够操纵组件的方式，而不在于寻找这些组件。想象一下玩一款游戏，其中的板条箱几乎无处不在，但它却并不重要——但在某个谜题中，游戏希望玩家推开一个使用了同个板条箱图片的方块。玩家可能不会去想这个板条箱与其他板条箱有何不同。要令物体使用玩家可以操纵的独特图片，令其在整款游戏中保持一致性。应该让玩家清楚哪些道具可以移动，哪些不可以移动。

玩家

谜题中最常被忽略的部分恰恰是最重要的内容：玩家本身。我写了大量关于令玩家受挫的危险，其中一个好方法就是设身处地，将自己置于玩家的角度来考虑。这不仅仅是测试谜题——你很难去测试自己已经知道解决方法的谜题。要一开始设计谜题时就从玩家角度来考虑。当你首次想出一个谜题理念时，想想玩家如何看到它，玩家如何与之自然互动。玩家会看到什么？游戏训练玩家做什么，这一谜题如何挑战玩家？

多数玩法机制会围绕玩家所在位置而设计。想想一些常见类型：舞剑、布置炸弹、发射投掷性武器。这些都是可用于解决谜题的潜在工具——它们都可以为玩家创造与不同谜题组件交互的新方法。当玩家设计一个谜题时，想象一下玩家可用的所有机制。如果你为某一谜题设计了一种解决方法，但该机制实际上用另一种解决方法更妙，那就不妨允许玩家在两者中做出选择，也许两种方法都可以。有时候，谜题的乐趣不只在于解决问题，还在于玩家的处理方式。

与此同时，还要想想玩家在谜题中的潜力——即玩家（以及他的能力）也可以是谜题的组件。设计一个谜题时，要记住玩家是谜题本身的一个活跃成份。这一点在基于贴图的RPG中尤其重要，因为玩家的位置对完成挑战来说至关重要。多数情况下，我并不指望或迫使玩家站在特定的贴图上，但会考虑玩家的位置以及这如何改变你设计谜题的方式。如果你发现了将玩家本身融入谜题的机会，那就一定不要错过。

可以考虑以玩家本身代替一个谜题元素。这里有个简单的例子：房间中有4个开关，只有同时按压这4个开关才能打开一扇门。一名设计师可能就会在房间中设置4个开关，但考虑到其中玩法潜在空间就只设置了3个按块，第四个开关需要玩家站上去才能生效。这样一来，该谜题不但更为简单，而且获得了更多深度，并鼓励玩家的更多交互行为。当玩家解开这个谜题时，他会觉得自己比使用4个开关时显得更聪明——4个开关配4个按块这一做法看起来太显而易见了。

当你将玩家直接置于谜题解决方案之中——而不只是丢给他一些组件并告诉他“将这些拼凑在一起”时，他就会与该谜题产生更深的情感联系。该谜题也会更像一个挑战，即使它并不需要过多额外思考。原因就在于互动性。你游戏中的互动性越多，玩家就越可能融入其中，游戏也就越有趣。

原文发表于2012年12月12日，所涉事件及数据以当时为准。（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）

Puzzle Design 1 RPG Puzzle Types

11/11/2012

Howdy. This is the first part of my new article series on puzzle design for RPGs. The goal of this series is to encourage critical thought about puzzle design as well as provide inspiration and motivation for the puzzles in your RPGs.

Today, we are going to look at a few core types of puzzles that are often found in RPGs. These might not be the only types of puzzles that can be in a game, but these are broad categories that cover a wide variety of puzzles, and this article will serve as a starting point for a more in-depth look at puzzle design.

Environmental Puzzles

The first type of puzzle that I want to look at is the environmental puzzle. These are the puzzles that require the player to make use of his surroundings. The player enters a new room or area, and is greeted by a challenge. More importantly, the area contains the tools that the player needs in order to solve that challenge.

In order to solve an environmental puzzle, the player needs to interact with his surroundings.

The simplest example of an environmental puzzle is a maze—the environment itself becomes the puzzle. But mazes are kind of boring; the next good example would be the classic push-block puzzle. Imagine this scenario: the player walks into a room and sees a bunch of objects blocking his path. The only way for him to progress is to move those objects out of his way. This is fairly straightforward, but the player does not need to use anything that he has acquired outside of that area (other than, maybe, knowledge that he has learned over the course of the game so far).

Limbo has fairly straightforward gameplay and minimal controls, but the environmental challenges provide depth.

Let’s imagine a more complex environmental puzzle. The player finds himself in an area where he needs to push around some blocks to fall to the floor below. When he goes back down to the floor, he realizes that the blocks aren’t of much use to him where they are, even though he can move them around. After some exploring, he discovers a switch that floods the room with water, which causes the blocks to float. He might have to turn off the switch and drain the room, re-position the blocks into a bridge, and then flood it again. Then, he can cross the water and reach the door at the end.

Puzzles like that have multiple steps to them, but still the player’s actions all involve making use of what the environment provides for him. He doesn’t need to bring in outside items or mechanics in order to solve the challenge.

Note that the environmental objects don’t need to inanimate. It’s entirely possible that a character or enemy can be an element in an environmental puzzle. For example, a puzzle might require the player to lure a monster onto a switch. I would still call that an environmental puzzle because the monster is a part of the environment to be manipulated.

Inventory Puzzles

Unlike environmental puzzles, inventory puzzles require a player to bring items into a challenge. In order to progress, the player must have acquired an item that allows him to complete the puzzle. While these items can come from the current area, often the best inventory puzzles force the player to think back on his journey and dig through his pockets for the perfect answer.

In order to solve an inventory puzzle, the player needs to have previously obtained a specific item or items.

The simplest example of the inventory puzzle is a locked door or chest that requires the player to have a key. In some games, the player would need to select that key from his item list. In others, the door/chest would automatically see that the player has the key and become unlocked. Either way, the idea is the same—although these types of interactions don’t feel much like true puzzles.

The gameplay of The Secret of Monkey Island, and other adventure games, revolves around the player’s inventory list.

Some inventory puzzles can be a little complicated, but by their very nature they tend to pretty straightforward. It’s difficult in RPGs to create an inventory puzzle that provides real challenge to the player, so often these types of puzzles are relegated to side quests or trading sequences. Some games will make use of a crafting system which allows players to create new items from collectibles. Other games will take an approach more like classic adventure games, where inventory items will be key to completing puzzles.

Mechanic Puzzles

On some level, every puzzle is a mechanic puzzle. After all, everything that you do in a game is technically based around a gameplay mechanic of some sort. For the sake of this article, I’m talking about unique mechanics that aren’t found in every game, but are specific to yours.

In order to solve a mechanic puzzle, the player must utilize one or more game mechanics to manipulate puzzle elements.

That definition is pretty broad—and there’s a reason for that. A game can have a variety of unique mechanics or abilities, and that leads to the potential for diverse and memorable puzzles.

The simplest example of a mechanical puzzle is talking to an NPC. When you boil down an RPG to its bare minimum, the default mechanic is the message box that shows dialogue. This example seems like a cop-out—and it is. The thing with mechanic puzzles is that they are different for every game, for every mechanic. There can be a tremendous amount of depth and variety to mechanics-based puzzles, and I encourage RPG developers to incorporate unique gameplay mechanics—ones that puzzles can be developed around— into their games.

The puzzles in the Legend of Zelda series encourage the player to utilize Link’s wide variety of gadgets.

Here’s an example from an old project of mine. For the most part, the game plays like a traditional RPG maker game. However, there is a central mechanic where the player is able to turn invisible. While the player is invisible, other objects can pass through him (okay, so it’s more than just invisibility).  When the mechanic is introduced, it is used primarily to spy on other characters or hide from enemies. As the game goes on, the mechanic is woven into puzzles. The obvious example is when the player needs to pass through an object that is blocking his way—but the player cannot move while invisible. So he needs to activate a conveyor belt which will allow him to pass through an object while he is invisible.

A puzzle like this utilizes elements of the environment, but wouldn’t be possible without the invisibility mechanic. In other words, the player always (or almost always) has control over an ability that gives him more ways in which to interact with the game world.

Conclusion

Each of these types has a place, but I caution against cramming each one into your game without putting thought into how each one is used. Some games can make good use of all of these types, but in others a sudden unexpected challenge can provide a disconnect for the player. If you train your player to solve problems in a specific way, introducing a different kind of solution can be jarring. I’m not saying that you can’t have an inventory puzzle in a game that primarily uses environmental puzzles, but that a new type of challenge needs to be introduced to the player in a way that feels natural. Maximize the overlap between these types of puzzles, and avoid putting the player in situations that force him to forget the skills that he has developed so far.

Think about the theme of your game, in terms of gameplay. How do you want the game to feel? How does your game want to feel? How should the player approach the game and the world that you have created? Each of these types of puzzles— and combinations of these types— contribute to the mechanical tone of your game. When designing a puzzle or challenge for your game, think about how it fits into one or more of these types, and how to best incorporate that puzzle into the larger tone of the game itself.

No matter how much effort you put into any single puzzle, think about the overall experience and how well that puzzle fits into the game as a whole.（source：finalbossblues）

Puzzle Design 2: Moving Parts

12/12/2012 Despain Game Design No comments

Welcome to the second part of my series on designing RPG puzzles. Last time, we went over some of the broad categories that different puzzles fall into. Today, we’re going to break things down a little further. Let’s talk about the elements that make up every puzzle in an RPG. Even the simplest of puzzles can be broken down into its core essentials.

When you’re designing a puzzle, think about what role each puzzle element plays, and how they connect with each other. There’s no specific way to design a good puzzle—often people will come up with an idea for one part of the puzzle before they figure out how everything fits together. Others start with the big idea and then work their way back. Whichever approach you take—know that every puzzle in your game has the following elements, and being aware of each one and the role it plays will not only make the puzzle stronger, but it will make the design process smoother.

The Goal

Every puzzle has a purpose. When a player enters a new room or area that contains a puzzle, the first thing he thinks  is “why should I solve this puzzle?” or “what happens when I solve this puzzle?” If the player doesn’t have a reason to solve the puzzle other than “it’s just there”, the puzzle loses its appeal as a challenge and feels more like a roadblock.

Think about a dungeon in your game. Think of the entire dungeon as one massive puzzle—there’s a clear goal: to beat the dungeon (to reach a boss, to find an artifact, whatever). Inside of that, there are smaller puzzles that make up the content of the dungeon. Let’s say that it’s the classic water-themed dungeon, and in order to solve a major portion, the player must raise the water level. That’s another goal and another puzzle. In order to reach the area where he can raise the water, the player must solve a series of smaller puzzles, each with its own more direct goal—like finding a key to open a door. Each puzzle has its own goal, but when taken together, they all form a sequence of challenges that bring the player closer to meeting his end goal. If you’re having a hard time designing puzzles for a dungeon, break it down by major goals, and then by the smaller ones. You’ll be able to figure out where you can fit your puzzles.

Goals inside goals inside goals. Goalception.

There is no puzzle without a goal or objective. Don’t cram puzzles into your game without a purpose (the obvious exception is straight puzzle games, but even then the goal is “get to the next puzzle”). Fortunately, it’s really easy to come up with a goal, especially in dungeons. Let’s take a look at some of the common goals for RPG puzzles.

A treasure chest or item: Rewarding the player with items can a good way to reward the player for smaller puzzles, or to include as a prize if the player solves an extra piece of a puzzle.

Often, the item will be important to the larger dungeon—like a key—or an item that the player will need going forward (think of Zelda).

A switch: Like in the water-temple example above, sometimes a goal of a single puzzle is to solve a piece of a larger puzzle. A ‘switch’—in this context—can mean any number of things. It can be a simple switch that opens a door, or it can be a new piece that brings the player closer to the larger “outer” goal. It could even be another puzzle (so long as its placement doesn’t confuse the player).

An event or monster: The obvious example of this is a boss or mini-boss. The goal of solving a puzzle is to get the player to closer to the boss battle—the final challenge of one type (puzzles) leads the player to the final challenge of another type (battles). Sometimes, the event can be the rescue of an ally or a scene that gives insight into characters. Either way, the reward for a puzzle can be a scene that drives the story forward. The hard part in designing puzzles with these goals is in making it clear to the player why is he solving this puzzle. He needs motivation

Give him a hint of what waits for him on the other side.

A location or door: The most straightforward goal for a puzzle is “to get to the other side”. There’s nothing wrong with that—often a puzzle’s purpose is to force the player to solve a challenge in order to progress. I would caution against including only these kinds of puzzles in your dungeons, or else the game runs the risk of being too linear and repetitive. These kinds of puzzles are best used in vital areas that test what the player has learned from previous challenges.

Sometimes a puzzle’s goal will be more abstract—say the player needs to protect an NPC or complete a task within a time frame. Goals don’t always need to be simple—but they must be clear to the player. I would suggest that most puzzles have an obvious goal that the player sees from the beginning: “Oh, in order to X, I’m going to need to solve this puzzle”. Sometimes, during the course of the puzzle, the player will need to discover what exactly he is trying to do—discovering the goal (or discovering new or alternative goals) can present a unique challenge to the player, but these types of puzzles have the potential to cause confusion—relying on too many of these can frustrate your player. However you approach it, the goal of every puzzle must be understood by the player in order for the puzzle to have a legitimate place in your game.

The Pieces

The meat of a puzzle is in the pieces that the player interacts with. I call them puzzle pieces, but they can be nearly anything. Anything that the player manipulates within the puzzle is a piece.

The key word here is “manipulation”. Strong puzzle pieces maximize player interactivity.

Some puzzles might not have pieces; but these puzzles tend to fall on the more boring side of things. A maze is a good example of this: players find mazes boring and potentially frustrating, because there’s very little opportunity for interaction—it’s just about wandering around until the goal is reached. Another puzzle like this is the simple “find a guy to unlock a door” puzzle.

The key might seem like a puzzle piece in this situation, but truthfully that key is a part of the goal, because the player doesn’t manipulate the key in any way.

Golden Sun puts a spin—literally—on the classic push-block pieces.

It’s not impossible to have a good puzzle without a lot of pieces. In fact, the most creative puzzles often put the player in a situation where he needs to get a lot of mileage out of a single puzzle piece (Portal 2 isn’t an RPG, but it does this a lot—if you haven’t played it yet, you’re missing out). Don’t feel the need to make a puzzle unnecessarily complicated by forcing extra pieces into it. Some common RPG puzzle pieces might include:

Push Blocks: Ahh, that RPG staple. Push blocks appear in nearly every RPG, because there’s so much that can be done with them. I would advise against a puzzle as simple as a room full of blocks that need to be moved (unless it is early in the game and the concept is being introduced), because puzzles like that can get repetitive and don’t show much creativity. Instead, try to imagine new ways that use blocks. Just because blocks are a staple, don’t be afraid to use them. It’s how you use them that matters.

Traps: The definition of what makes a trap is wide open—anything that could damage the player or hinder his progress could be called a trap. Traps on their own create interactivity—I’m a fan of using traps to spice up areas that don’t have direct puzzles. Within a puzzle, traps can add extra challenge or might even have a hand in manipulating other puzzle elements. There are near limitless options for potential traps in puzzles (and elsewhere). Spikes, bottomless pits, conveyor belts, fire, etc. Just be careful about overusing danger, the last thing you want to do is frustrate the player.

Switches: The goal of a puzzle can be a switch, but switches can be an integral piece within a puzzle as well. Think about the potential for different types of switches: some might allow the player to toggle them between on and off, some can turn themselves off after a time limit, some might require pressure to keep them down, others might require the player to activate them from a distance, etc. Be creative (but don’t lost consistency among switch types)—the more opportunity for player interaction, the better. Switches can go a long way towards providing that.

Monsters or characters: Monsters can add depth to a puzzle. Not only could they serve as an extra element of danger, but they can be used as instruments of the puzzle itself. Consider a pressure switch—it’s easy to push a block onto it, but what about luring an enemy to stand in place? I also like to encourage developers to use NPCs in their dungeons, because there’s a lot of potential for gamespace that is often overlooked. Adding another character—to support the player or to cause problems for him—can add a new dimension to a puzzle.

Of course, these aren’t the only options. Nearly anything can be a piece of your puzzle. Think about the environment, and think about ways in which the player can interact with it. You might want to put a unique spin on one of the above common pieces. Be creative and have fun with it. You aren’t limited to the traditional simple puzzles that you find in every RPG. Think about your game’s unique mechanics and come up with ways for the player to interact with new potential puzzle pieces.

Word of warning: make sure that the important pieces to each puzzle are obvious to the player. It’s common for developers to think that they can create challenge by “hiding” important pieces—that doesn’t create challenge; it creates frustration. The challenge of a puzzle should be in the way the player manipulates the pieces, not in discovering what those pieces are. Imagine playing a game where a wooden crate has been used in all sorts of areas and it was never important—but in one puzzle the game expects the player to be able to push a block that uses the graphic of that same crate. The player might not have any reason to think that this one is different than any of the others. Use unique graphics for objects that the player can manipulate, and keep them consistent throughout the entire game. It should be clear to the player which items can be moved which cannot.

The Player

The most overlooked part of a puzzle is also the most important: the player himself. I write a lot about the danger of frustrating your players, and a good way to avoid that is to put yourself in the player’s shoes. This goes beyond testing your puzzles—it’s difficult to test puzzles that you already know the solutions to. Think about the player’s perspective from the beginning when you design puzzles. When you first come up with a puzzle concept, think about how the player sees it and how the player will naturally react to it. What does the player see? What has the game trained the player to do, and how will this puzzle challenge him within that?

Most gameplay mechanics will revolve around the position of the player. Think of some common ones: swinging swords, placing bombs, firing projectile weapons. All of these are potential tools that can be used to solve a puzzle—all of these can create new ways for the player to interact with different puzzle pieces. When you design a puzzle, think of all the mechanics that the player has at his disposal. If you intend the puzzle to be solved in one way, but a mechanic would logically make sense for an alternative solution—let the player choose from either: maybe both ways work.

Sometimes, the enjoyment of a puzzle isn’t just in solving it, but in how the player approaches it.

Stand back! I’ve got a puzzle to solve.

At the same time, think about the potential for the player within the puzzle—the player (and his abilities) can be instrumental puzzle pieces. When designing a puzzle, remember that the player is an active part of the puzzle itself. This is especially important in tile-based RPGs, where the player’s location can be crucial to the completion of a challenge. I would avoid expecting or forcing a player to stand on a specific tile for the most part, but think about the position of the player and how that might change the way you design the puzzle. If you spot an opportunity to incorporate the player himself into the puzzle, take it.

Consider the possibility of replacing a puzzle element with the player himself. Here’s an easy example: a room has four switches that need to be pressed down at the same time in order to open a door. One designer might put four push-blocks in the room, but consider the potential for including only three. The fourth switch, of course, is for the player to stand on. The puzzle becomes simpler while at the same time gaining more depth, and encourages more interactivity from the player. When he solves the three-block version of the puzzle, he will feel smarter than if he had used four blocks—four blocks with four switches might seem a little too obvious.

When you involve the player directly in the solution of a puzzle—rather than simply putting him in a situation with all the pieces and saying “put this together”— he has a stronger connection with that puzzle. The puzzle feels like more of a challenge, even if it doesn’t require too much extra thought. The reason for this is interactivity. The more interactivity in your game, the more invested the player will be in it. The game will be more fun.

Now that we’ve got our bases covered and looked at the pieces that make up a puzzle, we can dive deeper into the conception, design and construction of puzzles. Look forward to the next article.（source：finalbossblues）