作者：Evan Skolnick

一个游戏项目的创意总监可能面对的一大挑战便是游戏玩法和故事的无缝且和谐的融合。作为一名创意总监，游戏总监或首席游戏设计师，你该如何推动这两个兄弟和睦相处呢？

首先？

游戏开发领域外部经常有人问这样的问题，即游戏项目是否是伴随着一个脚本或故事概念开始的，就像电影那样。

当然了，就像你所了解的，在游戏中并非如此。实际上，每当一名作家问我他该在哪里出售自己有关游戏故事的理念时，我总会以电影配乐编曲家想知道在哪里出售自己编写的电影原声带作为类比。因为与电影并不是从配乐开始制作一样，游戏也不是从故事开始。

一款全新的游戏通常都是从有关类型的决定开始，然后才是关于这一类型的概念。在这一形成阶段还不会出现任何特定的叙述元素。

举个例子来说，一些突出独创IP的游戏概念在最初阶段应该是这样的：

在以西部时代为背景的第三人称沙盒游戏中，玩家将扮演枪手的角色。（例如《Gun》和《Red Dead Redemption》）

在第一人称益智游戏中，玩家将在任何能够穿过的墙，地板和天花板上射“洞”。（例如《落井下石》，《传送门》）

在第三人称且基于合作模式的探索兼益智游戏中，游戏强调氛围与简单的美感，并且不包含任何对话。（如《Journey》）

在第三人称潜行暗杀游戏中具有可爬行的城市环境以及庞大且可互动的人群。（如《刺客的信条》）

在第三人称行动益智游戏中，玩家将滚动一个极具粘性的球穿越一个领域，并收集粘在球上的物体从而去放大球的体积。（如《块魂》）

在这些简短的概念中蕴含着许多深刻的含义！包括设计，团队规模，构成，预算，时间表，引擎，可行的平台，目标用户等等。在这种开始思考像故事是什么等细节问题前我们需要评估更多内容。

甚至连基于现有/授权属性的游戏概念也有可能因此而出现：

带有许多来自Marvel Universe的可游戏的角色的等距四人行动RPG地牢潜行游戏。（如《X战警：无限》，《漫画英雄：终极联盟》）

基于《行尸走肉》的漫画和电视剧的充满丰富叙述的3D冒险游戏。（《行尸走肉1》）

突出标志性的Marvel投网者的化身的非开放世界蜘蛛侠行动游戏。（《如《蜘蛛侠：破碎维度》）

基于具有讽刺性的黄金时段电视动画情景喜剧的世界建造休闲手机游戏。（如《辛普森一家》，《恶搞之家：探索之物》）

重点是，在游戏故事出现之前还有像类型，核心机制和环境等预先元素。在续集游戏，重制游戏或授权游戏中，你还可以添加已建立的角色，能力和世界。但除非这是关于现有虚构作品的改编（游戏邦注：例如那些常见的“电影游戏”），电子游戏通常都不是从故事开始。然而关于最终游戏故事的影响却是始于游戏概念诞生的那一刻。

作为一个游戏项目的创意总监，你必须在这个早期阶段做出能够影响游戏叙述的决定。你需要选择你的潜在用户以及你自己所期待的游戏类型以及主要叙述对于游戏体验的影响。这些决定将推动着你之后所做出的其它决定，就像多米诺纸牌一样。

对于叙述投入多少专注？

关于游戏叙述元素，你需要问自己的第一件事便是你认为它们对于游戏设计，吸引力和成功有多重要？有些问题也许能够帮助你理清这一点：

市场上是否有与你计划创造的游戏相似的游戏？如果有，那么这些游戏的叙述内容有什么突出点？它们的开发者使用了什么方法去整合并传达这些叙述内容？这些选择是否有效？

如果没有一个强大的故事这款游戏是否能够获得成功？游戏玩法本身是否带有体验，或者叙述对于游戏的品质认知度是否重要？投入多少钱才是合理的？

你是否认为目标用户会期待你的游戏叙述？你认为有多少玩家喜欢故事又有多少玩家惧怕故事？

我们必须清楚叙述元素在整体游戏设计中所扮演的角色以及这些元素和其它元素的先后顺序。这能够帮助你在早前阶段便做出聪明的决定并为之后的游戏设计开发过程奠定基础。

匹配玩家动词与叙述

核心游戏设计和机制总是与玩家角色的行动（即玩家在游戏领域中可能表达的动词）直接联系在一起。电子游戏中一些常见的动词包括行走，奔跑，跳跃，瞄准，射击，蹲伏，阻止，攀爬，漂浮，飞翔，游泳，开车，创建和收集等等。许多游戏同时也拥有当玩家角色在特定游戏内部区域中移动时会出现的环境动词，如：开门，使用计算机，与非玩家角色对话，捡起道具等等。

从开发工作来看，玩家动词是很麻烦的。单单执行一个新动词就需要编写额外的代码，并且经常需要使用全新图像，动画或音频。动词总是会创造出一些相关的游戏玩法可能性，而这么做往往需要消耗很多时间和精力。关卡设计师必须始终考虑所有的动词或者在特定时间撤回特定的动词。

玩家动词越少，开发者便能够越轻松地控制变量和范围。然而动词越少也表示叙述机制将承担更多责任去传达一个故事。举个例子来说吧，如果一款游戏中的所有玩家动词都与战斗有关而与移动无关，那么你该如何将一个战斗背景与另一个战斗背景联系起来？如果没有提供给玩家从A点到B点的互动旅程的选择，你可能需要借助非交互式故事叙述技巧去改变位置。这既可以是《愤怒的小鸟》游戏世界中5秒钟的图像切换也可以是《合金装备》系列中10分钟的过场动画。当你做出有关玩家动词的困难决定时，你需要记住当你集中的范围越小时，你关于非交互式叙述使用的压力就会越大。

关于玩家动词的另外一个考虑要点是，人们和虚构角色是由他们所做的选择和事所定义的。在一款游戏中，一个可游戏角色最终只会做设计师允许他们做的事。因此，适合玩家角色的游戏动词将决定这是个什么样的角色。我们必须意识到玩家动词和玩家角色是相互联系在一起的，所以他们也应该同时发展。

此外，如果你正在使用一个已经存在的角色作为游戏中的（主要）角色，你必须清楚这样的角色会伴随着一组隐含的动词。例如蜘蛛侠具有天生的爬墙和发射蜘蛛丝的能力，这也成为关卡设计师和摄像师/工程师的噩梦。而其他角色可能还具有其它的能力。

游戏故事vs玩家故事

对于游戏叙述范围（还有质量）具有重要影响的另外一个重要决定是你事先计划创造多少故事vs在游戏过程中你允许自然出现的故事。

你是想创造像《神秘海域》或《蝙蝠侠：阿卡姆疯人院》这样大型的线性电影游戏？还是像《质量效应》或《行尸走肉1》这样带有多个分支故事且侧重叙述体验的游戏？或者是像《侠盗猎车手》，《辐射3》或《Red Dead Redemption》等具有开放世界的沙盒游戏？或者是像《超越光速》这样具有自然发生的故事的游戏？再或者是像《模拟人生》或《英雄联盟》这样带有纯粹的系统提供的内容的游戏？

大多数整合了任何故事叙述形式的游戏通常都带有两个平行运行的叙述。游戏故事是由开发者预先设定好的，所有玩家都将经历同样的内容。而玩家故事则是基于玩家所做出的选择而针对于每一位玩家的内容，并且只会在各种游戏系统彼此互动并且受到玩家行动的影响时才会出现。

游戏故事和玩家故事的比例在不同游戏中也是不同的。有些游戏会更侧重其中一种故事，但是大多数游戏还是选择中立的做法。简单的益智游戏则是例外，这是少有的带有少量游戏故事或玩家故事的游戏。

我相信只要提到游戏故事vs玩家故事时，大多数带有任何游戏故事内容的游戏都会自动归到其中一种类别里。

99%的游戏故事

特征

面向所有玩家的同样线性游戏故事

没有选择或玩家角色定制

只有一种获胜方式

没有表达个人游戏风格的机会

关于计算机控制的角色只有有限的人工智能，或者根本没有，并且游戏会阻碍与这些角色互动所创造的故事。

例子

《Dragon’s Lair》

《太空王牌》

《啪啦啪啦啪》

我们很难找到一款100%预先设定好，甚至是关于每次成功的玩家行动的现代电子游戏。诞生于1983年的《Dragon’s Lair》便是游戏几乎由游戏故事所主导着的典型例子。

如果你看过这一经典街机游戏的5个不同的成功攻略视频，你便会发现它们几乎是一样的。每一次叙述内容都是一样的，成功的路径也是既定的，并且只存在一种方法能够解决每个游戏挑战。甚至在不同瞬间，任何事件都会以同样的方式呈现在成功的玩家面前。

特殊玩家对于故事体验唯一可能产生的个人影响便是他的失败次数以及在检查点重生的次数。尽管从本身看来这是属于源自技术的玩家故事，但其实这却是最无趣的类型。因为如此我们会认为玩家的失败是设定好的，从而导致其它内容的乐趣也大打折扣。

说实话，《Dragon ‘s Lair》电影般的图像和动画让当时的许多竞争者感到羞愧。但即使是一款拥有与《太空入侵者》一样粗糙的图像的游戏也能够提供比这款游戏更丰富的玩家故事可能性。

这类型游戏的主要优势在于能够不受玩家异常行为影响而创造叙述内容，这样的潜能与来自小说或电影等其它媒体的最佳故事一样突出。而主要缺点则源自创造的另一面；即如果不提供给玩家做出任何有趣选择的机会，游戏体验便只是对于死记硬背的“学生”的测试。有很多人会说这样的游戏根本没有资格被称作游戏。

游戏故事占主导地位

这是指强调丰富的线性故事素材的游戏，并且通常是以牺牲玩家的自由为代价。

特征

面向所有玩家的同样线性游戏故事

几乎不存在支线任务或可选择的任务

几乎不存在选择或玩家角色定制

玩家选择和自我表达的机会只存在游戏瞬间

存在表现个人游戏风格的适度机会

与计算机控制的角色进行互动具有提供小规模意外故事的潜能

例子

《神秘海域》系列

《最后的生还者》

《蜘蛛侠》（2000年）

《蝙蝠侠：阿卡姆疯人院》

《战神》

游戏故事所主导的体验能够提供更多自我表达且针对于每个玩家的游戏体验，但却仍然与预先设定好的线性叙述非常接近。

举个例子来说吧，每个玩《神秘海域2》的玩家都将扮演Nathan Drake，并且每个玩家的Nathan Drake看起来都差不多，他们会前往同样的场所并出于同样的理由与同样的敌人相抗衡。

然而在任务的游戏玩法部分，玩家拥有各种不同的动词和足够的选择去创造属于自己的独特体验。各种武器和弹药分散在环境的四周，AI敌人将对玩家行动作出反应，玩家能够在这种背景下自由地表达自己并按照自己的想法去解决问题。虽然这种可能性空间还是很小，但不管怎样这里存在创造独特玩家故事的机会：我该如何打败那十个雇佣兵呢！

当然了，这些玩家故事只是瞬时的，并不会延伸到剩下的叙述内容中或改变之后的任务。一旦战斗或攀爬任务结束而过渡性过场动画出现，游戏便会回到线性游戏故事中。玩家没有能力去影响最终的结果。每个玩完《神秘海域2》的玩家都会看到一个完全相同的结果。

致力于这样的游戏其实可以好好利用专业作家之手，创造不允许玩家在特定领域做出选择或表达自己看法的强大且节奏有序的叙述。然而有些玩家却想要看到更多定制内容，更多控制以及对于自己对于事件的更有效的影响。

平衡的游戏和玩家故事

游戏设计总是倾向于实现预先设定的故事内容与玩家选择和表达之间的平衡。

特征

对于所有玩家来说相同或非常相似的主要游戏故事

基于玩家行动或决定的有限，且经常具有双元性的游戏故事变量

玩家角色的一些选择或定制内容

非线性或可选择的任务

表达个人游戏风格的主要机遇

与计算机控制的角色进行互动能够创造意外故事

例子

《侠盗猎车手》系列

《孤岛惊魂》系列

《Red Dead Redemption》

《辐射3》

《生化奇兵》

《行尸走肉1》

《古墓丽影》（2013年）

预先设定好的故事元素与动态故事元素间的平等关系源于许多受欢迎的游戏设计所做出的妥协。本质上来看，这便是所谓的“鱼和熊掌兼得”的故事。这里的目标是提供一个让人满足，能够引起共鸣且具有经典结构的游戏故事的主要元素，同时还提供给玩家足够的机会（在一定框架内）去表达自己的游戏风格，个人对于角色和条件的反应等等。

有些这类型游戏会提供一个充满AI的开放世界去呈现随机且有时候是不可预测的邂逅，并且这里还有许多会适量派遣各种任务（游戏邦注：既包括最单纯的选择也包括在游戏故事中前进的必要条件）的任务传导师。提供给玩家探索的自由，并与系统AI及其对于玩家以及彼此的潜在反应相结合便能够创造出一个充满玩家故事可能性的游戏环境。

当提到玩家角色时，有些这类型游戏也会提供给玩家各种各样的选择。除了视觉定制化外，玩家还可以决定自己角色的技能和技术领域，可以是通过菜单选择或者反复在游戏空间执行特定行动并观看着玩家角色“变得越来越好”。这既能开启特定的玩家角色动词，同时也会摧毁其它动词，从而为玩家提供特殊的玩家故事体验。

也许最主要同时最具挑战性的功能是基于某种方式整合可能影响具有主导性且预先设定好的叙述的玩家选择。这种分支结构是非常微妙的，伴随着多个分支级别，它们拥有创造巨大可能性的潜能，同时每一个级别还需要一些定制内容—-不过在游戏过程中特定玩家通常都不会体验到大多数这些内容。这也等同于创造大多数玩家将看不到的大量内容，并因此会掠夺创造玩家最终可能体验到的内容所需要花费的时间和努力。

关于这一问题的一种解决方法便是限制玩家对于设置选择的分支。通常情况下玩家看不到的这些“标记”并不会改变叙述的的主要方面，即你将去哪里以及你必须做什么，相反地这将改变一些较为次要的体验内容。例如，如果你在任务1中粗鲁地对待一个NPC，游戏可能会在任务3中当你再次冲向角色时呈现出一个相关的标记。（也许对方更不友好。）这种方法可能需要你去创造可替代的资产条件或完整的任务版本，但这将让你能够分享大多数资产去完善最终效能。

《生化奇兵》会悄悄地追踪你在游戏过程中所做出的一些道德决策，并使用数据去呈现两种不同的结局过场动画中的一种。《行尸走肉1》会在可能影响之后事件和情境的对话和行动中提供许多小规模的选择。然而为了控制范围，游戏的开发者需要确保任何的这些基于标记的变量都不会改变玩家的前进方向，玩家的任务或者故事的结局。

对于分支内容所带来的威胁的另外一个解决方法便是确保选择的多元性，然后再通过“修剪”而将其变回一元化的故事线。

这也是我们在《漫画英雄：终极联盟2》中所使用的方法，在这款游戏开发中我扮演的是首席作家的角色。一旦玩家选择了一方的超级英雄，他便能从该英雄的角度体验到独特的任务系列，但之后我们将呈现给他们任何一方都将面临的更大挑战，而为了解决这样的挑战他们就需要撇清彼此间的区别。

这让我们能够创造统一的第三种行动去解决其中的分支并避免我们最终开发出两款不一样的游戏。（也就是说我们同时也会添加一些标记让我们知道玩家在战争中选择了哪一方，而这也将区分不同的结局过场动画。）

使用游戏故事和玩家故事间的平衡方法能够迎合最广泛的玩家群体—-不管是那些想要看到精心设计的叙述内容还是想要拥有更多自由的玩家。而这一方法的主要劣势在于找到适当的平衡并处理开发过程中可能出现的不确定的优先顺序所具有的挑战。当双方对于设计来说具有同等重要性时，当矛盾出现时又有哪一方能够占据优势呢？当然了，当一方尝试着提供“最佳世界”的时候，你将可能遇到哪一边都做不好这另一大风险。

玩家故事占主导地位

这种类型的游戏设计比起预先设定好的丰富故事元素而更加侧重玩家选择。

特征

面向所有玩家的相同或类似的主要游戏故事

具有更少开发好且具有吸引力的精心设计的故事

基于玩家行动或决定的有限，且通常都是二元的游戏故事变量

选择的主要范围是取决于玩家角色

通常多个玩家角色都伴随着各种定制的选择

允许多个玩家角色“永久死亡”

不是特别强调创造能够让人印象深刻的游戏角色

强调策略或战术

例子

《X-COM: UFO Defense》

《超越光速》

《魔兽争霸》系列

《星际争霸》系列

当我们比起预先设定好的叙述而更强调玩家故事时，我们便会要求游戏提供带有无限玩家故事可能性的高度系统化游戏空间—-但这却是不可能与面向所有玩家的统一故事整合在一起的。

让我们着眼于这一组中的一些例子，你将会注意到它们其实都是关于玩家扮演着“上帝”的角色，控制着一群可任意处理的玩家角色并将其组成不同的团队在各种不同的条件下获得胜利的策略游戏。尽管存在名为NPC的角色会出现在战场上或者与玩家一起待在指挥碉堡上，但通常情况下具有控制能力的角色都是基于模板的计算程序，即玩家最终将根据自己的体验或喜好做出决定。在《X-COM》，《超越光速》等这类型游戏中，特定的玩家角色可能会因为他们在游戏过程中所获得的专业技能而深得玩家的心。

不会导致任务自动失败的角色永久死亡的可能性将为玩家故事及其情感影响添加更多潜能。当玩家未曾玩过之前的游戏类别时，他们很有可能在游戏过程中感受到“任何事情都有可能发生”，而这种感受是让人兴奋的。玩家永远都不会忘记在这类型游戏中所遇到的意外，即他们最喜欢的一个玩家角色可能会付出惨痛的代价去获取胜利，或者群组中的所有人都遭遇了死亡，而唯一的幸存者最终获得了胜利。

但是这些游戏也有属于自己的主导游戏故事—-通常情况下是关于需要被打败的敌人。这些故事具有各种细节，叙述元素通常比之前提到的类别更脆弱且更浅薄。但是这类型游戏仍然将其系统游戏体验与非交互式序列整合在一起。通过提供环境，结构，虚构的动机和情感中心，预先设定好的叙述元素能够阻止游戏变成一种无止尽重复的空虚体验。

99%的玩家故事

游戏设计包含了角色和世界，但却为了突显游戏玩法而几乎避开了精心设计的叙述结构。

特征

没有主导故事，只有一个世界和叙述环境

本身没有结局

通常多个玩家角色都伴随着各种定制选择

允许多个玩家角色“永久死亡”

强调策略或战术

有时候只允许多人玩家模式

例子

《英雄联盟》

《泰坦陨落》

《军团要塞1》和《军团要塞2》

《模拟城市》系列

《模拟人生》系列

《文明》

《真人快打》

《死或生》系列

《明星大乱斗》系列

这些游戏突显了角色并且是发生在虚构的世界中，但游戏故事却只会以系统化形式出现。它们通常是分为三种类型：模拟游戏，打斗游戏和多人竞技游戏（MOBA）。

在所有的这三种类型中，只有少数游戏故事是一开始便出现的，即创造一个虚构的世界，开场的情况以及可能的角色的背景，然后玩家将在游戏空间里自由地采取任何规则与系统所允许的行动。

像《模拟城市》或《模拟人生》等模拟游戏突显了非常复杂且相互依赖的系统并创造了巨大的可能性空间，允许玩家在这里最大限度地表达自己的想法。玩家并不能直接控制任何角色，但却能控制情境，设置以及组织元素去影响角色并推动事件朝某一方向发展。游戏中各种不同系统间复杂的关联将创造出有趣且难以预测的结果，而这也会与玩家对于世界的了解以及自己所做出的选择紧密联系在一起。如果没有特定的获胜条件，玩家故事将会无限期地延伸下去。

这种设定的主要优势在于能够让玩家在一个领域内自由地开始创造属于自己的故事。但是因为没有游戏故事或者对于玩家角色的直接控制，这类型游戏只能瞄准特定的玩家类型。所以只有最优秀的游戏才能够吸引大量玩家的注意。

最早可以追溯到1991年热门街机游戏《街头霸王2》的打斗游戏很少会将预先设定好的叙述结构整合到游戏行动中。他们的玩家只有一个目的，那便是打斗！这些游戏的设计师通常都专注于提供给这些玩家他们想要的东西，让各种故事从游戏空间所允许的无限互动中不断涌现出来。而关于这一规则的一个例外便是最近突然大热的游戏《不义联盟：人间之神》（游戏邦注：这是NetherRealm在2013年发行的游戏），这是一款突显了DC漫画的超级英雄和恶棍并整合了延伸的故事体验的传统打斗游戏。

多人游戏总是会先设定一个普通的背景，然后依赖于玩家去创造一些意外故事。这是一种很有效的策略。毕竟没有什么比人类更难预测或不可控制，他们总是能在规则集内想出各种设计师从未想象到的行为和战术。非常典型的例子便包括大受欢迎的《英雄联盟》和《坦克世界》。

MOBA设计师清楚，当提到在一个共享空间中进行基于团队的比赛时，那些会喜欢他们的游戏的玩家（尽管这些玩家可能也会喜欢单人游戏中的线性故事）不会对叙述内容感兴趣的。除了游戏外部的内容外，开发者并不会浪费时间去创造或整合故事材料，他们不希望这些内容阻碍了玩家的共享体验。

这一方法的缺点在于你的游戏可能会不像一个IP而更像一个简化的游戏玩法空间。玩家的忠诚度将不是针对于你的游戏世界或角色，而是关于你的游戏系统，如此你便很难将游戏带到其它媒体上进行更深一步的扩展。

所以这到底是谁的故事？

当在衡量到底该倾向于哪一方时，我们必须清楚游戏故事vs玩家故事的质量标准是不同的。

正如讨论的那样，游戏故事是预先设定好的。它们可以经过缓慢的开发，调整和测试。这些都是它们与电影等更传统的媒体所具有的相同的故事叙述方式，正因为如此，游戏故事总是被拿出来与其它媒体中的最佳例子进行比较。

但就像我们在文章前面所提到的，游戏故事也具有很多不足。

而玩家故事，或者说个人故事则具有不同评判标准。不管这类型故事从客观上来看是否优秀并不重要。因为具有参与度，所以玩家故事总是更容易被参与者所接受。

如果玩家想要与其他未参与的人分享自己的故事，那么这个故事可能不能很好地进行下去。

如果你不相信我的话大可以问问那些玩过《龙与地下城》的玩家，让他告诉你自己在游戏中的最新任务是什么！也许对于他来说在当下直接体验这一任务还是一样有趣，但是对于外人来说最终叙述肯定不那么有意思了。因为前提在于你需要参与其中。

但对于玩家自身来说这却是非常印象深刻的体验。

观看关于一支棒球队逆袭赢得了世界职业棒球大赛的电影以及亲眼看着自己最喜欢的团队赢得大赛，到底哪个更让人兴奋且难以忘怀呢？

尽管电影版本可能更加精致—-具有明确的角色，吸引人的摄影，完美的对话以及激动人心的分数设定去支撑一切，但是它却不能像观看不是那么完美但却具有各种意外性的现场版那样能够唤醒人们的共鸣。为什么？因为用户知道电影是预先制作好的，知道这可能不是真正发生的事。在与一些真实发生的事相比较，我们往往会对此产生质疑。因此意外故事的客观质量标准总是低于预先设定好的游戏故事。

这并不是说每个意外故事都比任何预先设定好的故事强。经过精心设计与优化的游戏故事更有可能达到情感影响的特定标准，而玩家故事会因为自身属性而会出现各种不一样的结果—-玩家有可能激动到语无伦次，很健忘，或者非常激动等等。

而出现后面这种情况的可能性也是《英雄联盟》成为当下世界上最受欢迎的游戏之一的原因。

这就是说，当你的设计更多依赖于意外故事而非预先设定好的故事，你的游戏设计师（或者整个团队）便需要承担更大的压力去创造带有无限潜能且具有吸引人的情感互动的游戏空间。游戏故事是强化整体体验的强大工具。如果你决定为了玩家故事而避开游戏故事，你的游戏设计及其系统可能会更让人惊艳。

结论

在漫长的游戏开发过程中，“游戏设计+叙述”很容易变成“游戏设计vs叙述。”

在之前的文章中我们曾花了很多时间去讨论推拉有可能出现在游戏开发中去突显一个重要的叙述元素。尽管还有很多内容可能影响你的叙述计划，但设计将是最常与故事开发发生冲突的内容。

在基于故事的游戏中，设计或叙述计划的改变可能会对彼此造成严重的影响。

作为创意总监的你有权利去平衡这些不同的元素并基于不同情况决定哪一方才是最重要的。每一次设计和叙述发生矛盾时你便需要尽所能去衡量各种利益与代价—-不只是关于项目，还有关于你的团队成员的热情与士气。

这对于你来说应该不是什么新鲜事了。的确，同意某些理念并否定其它理念是作为创意总监的主要工作。但是如果叙述是相混合的，它便可能被忽视或被其它考虑因素所取代。

而如果你在一开始便清楚游戏叙述质量不会影响游戏最终的成功，那么这一切将不是问题。但如果你认为游戏的故事内容是核心，决定着游戏最终成功的话，那么在激烈的游戏开发过程中你就需要时刻提醒自己故事的优先顺序。对于大多数有经验的作家和编辑来说，他们总是能在成形阶段察觉到任何对于叙述结构的不利元素。所以不要认为你要求叙述专家对他们的故事所做出的“小小”改变都是微不足道的。就像我们之前所提到的，一个很“酷”的理念可能会在无意间对故事的可信度，特征，节奏，甚至是结构完整性造成威胁。

而理解这些威胁便是避免它们的第一步，并且如此你才有可能将游戏设计和故事有效地整合在一起。

（本文为游戏邦/gamerboom.com编译，拒绝任何不保留版权的转发，如需转载请联系：游戏邦）

Game Design vs. Story: Playing Referee

by Evan Skolnick

One of the most challenging tasks the creative lead of a game project can face is the seamless, harmonious melding of gameplay and story. How can you, as a creative director, game director or lead designer, encourage these two (sometimes squabbling) siblings to get along?

Let’s start at the beginning.

Who’s On First?

A question often asked by people outside the game development industry is whether game projects kick off with a script or story concept, like, say, movies almost always do.

Of course, as you know, that’s not how it generally works in games. In fact, whenever a writer asks me where she might shop her idea for game story, the analogy I use in my answer is that of a film score composer wondering where he should shop the movie soundtrack he just wrote. Games don’t start with stories any more than movies start with scores.

A new game almost always begins with a decision on genre, followed by a concept within that genre. At this formative stage, few if any specific narrative elements are yet determined.

For example, some game concepts featuring original intellectual properties (IP) might have looked something like this in their very first days:

A third-person sandbox game set in the Old West in which the player takes on the role of a gunslinger. (Gun, Red Dead Redemption)

A first-person environmental puzzle game in which the player shoots “holes” in walls, floors, and ceilings that can be traveled through. (Narbacular Drop, Portal)

A third-person co-op exploration and puzzle game that emphasizes emotion and simple beauty, and contains no dialogue. (Journey)

A third-person stealth assassination game featuring climbable urban environments and large, interactive crowds. (Assassin’s Creed)

A third-person puzzle-action game in which the player rolls a highly adhesive sphere across the environment, collecting objects that stick to it and increase its size. (Katamari Damacy)

There are so many implications in these brief concept statements! Design, team size and composition, budget, schedule, engine, possible platforms, target audience . . . the list goes on and on. It’s a lot to evaluate before even starting to think about more detailed questions like, What is the story?

Even game concepts based on existing/licensed properties, with considerably more prior baggage, might have appeared thusly:

An isometric, four-player action-RPG “dungeon-crawler” with dozens of available playable characters from the Marvel Universe. (X-Men Unlimited, Marvel: Ultimate Alliance)

A narrative-rich 3D adventure game that’s based on The Walking Dead comics and TV series. (The Walking Dead: Season One)

A non-open-world Spider-Man action game featuring multiple playable incarnations of the iconic Marvel web-slinger. (Spider-Man: Shattered Dimensions)

A world-building casual mobile game based on a satirical prime-time animated TV sitcom. (The Simpsons: Tapped Out, Family Guy: The Quest for Stuff)

The point is, before there is a game story, there are always previously established elements such as genre, core mechanics, and context. In sequels, remakes, and licensed games you can usually add to that list established characters, abilities, and world. But unless it’s a straight adaptation of an existing fictional work — remember all those inevitable and generally mediocre “movie games”? — video games generally do not start with story. Nevertheless, the impact on the final game’s story starts at the very first moment of game conception.

As a creative lead on a game project, you have already at this early stage made decisions that will affect the game narrative. Just by picking the game genre you begin to set expectations in your potential audience — and probably in yourself — as to how critical narrative is going to be to the gameplay experience. These drive other decisions down the line like dominoes.

How Much Focus on Narrative?

One of the first things you need to ask yourself regarding your game’s narrative elements is how important and central you believe they are to the game’s design, appeal, and success. Some questions that might help clarify this for you include:

Are there existing games that are similar to the one you plan to create? If so, how prominent was each game’s narrative, what methods did their developers use to integrate and convey it, and how effective were those choices?

Can this game be successful without a strong story? Can the gameplay itself carry the experience, or is narrative crucial to its perceived quality? How much of an investment is justified?

What do you believe your target audience’s expectations will be regarding your game’s narrative? What percentage of the players do you believe will be story-philes versus story-phobes?

It’s important to understand and be clear with other game design leaders regarding the role that narrative elements are likely to play within the overall game design, and how those elements will be prioritized versus other aspects. This will drive smart decisions early in the process, and set the tone for the rest of the game’s design development process.

Matching Player Verbs to Narrative

Core game designs and mechanics are always directly linked to what the player character can do… the verbs he is able to express within the confines of the game space. Some common verbs in video games include walk, run, jump, aim, shoot, crouch, block, climb, float, fly, swim, drive, build, and collect. Many games also have contextual verbs that are only available when the player character moves within range of a certain in-game location or object: open door, use computer, talk to NPC, pick up item, etc.

Player verbs can be expensive in terms of development effort. Just implementing a new verb will require additional code, and often also imply new art, animation, and/or audio. Verbs also tend to open up gameplay possibilities that must be accounted for, and doing so can take a lot of time and effort. Level designers must constantly take all verbs into consideration, or disallow specific verbs at certain times (often leaving Narrative to justify a seemingly arbitrary restriction).

The lower the number of player verbs, the easier it is to control the variables and rein in scope. However, a low number of verbs can result in more and more onus being put on out-of-game narrative mechanisms to convey a story. For example, if all the player verbs in a game have to do with combat and none have to do with traversal movement, then how will you bridge from one combat context and location to another? With no option to provide the player an interactive journey from Point A to Point B, you will likely lean upon noninteractive storytelling techniques to establish a change of location and a new reason and context for the next battle. This can range from the simple, five-second panning of images in between Angry Birds worlds all the way up to the sumptuously rendered, ten-minute cutscenes from the Metal Gear Solid series. As you make the hard decisions about player verbs, keep in mind that the more narrow your focus in this area, the more you might be overburdening the noninteractive narrative tools at your disposal.

Another point to consider with regard to player verbs is that people and fictional characters are, in many ways, defined by the choices they make and what they do. In a game, a playable character ends up doing only the things the designers allow. Thus, the gameplay verbs that are available to a player character define, in a very basic way, who that character is. It’s important to realize that player verbs and the player’s character are inextricably interwoven, and should be concepted and developed concurrently.

Further, if you are using a pre-existing character as a (or the main) playable in your game, be aware that the character may come with baggage that includes a bevy of implied verbs. Spider-Man, for example, has inherent wall-crawling and web-swinging abilities that can cause waking nightmares for your level designers and camera designers/engineers. Other characters may imply other abilities.

Game Story vs. Player Story

Another important decision that will have massive implications for the game narrative scope — and possibly its quality — will be how much of the story you are planning to craft beforehand versus what you allow to emerge naturally during gameplay.

Will you go for a tightly crafted, largely linear cinematic game like Uncharted or Batman: Arkham Asylum? A narrative-heavy experience with multiple, story-impacting branch points such as Mass Effect or The Walking Dead: Season One? An open-world sandbox more loosely held together by a largely linear storyline like Grand Theft Auto, Fallout 3, or Red Dead Redemption? A mainly emergent story design like FTL: Faster Than Light? Or an almost purely systemic offering such as The Sims or League of Legends?

Most games that incorporate any kind of storytelling include, to one degree or another, two narratives running in parallel. There is the game story — predefined by the developers to be the same for every player who experiences it. And there is the player story — the narrative unique to each player based on choices she’s made or things that just happened to occur via the various interactions of game systems with each other and the player’s actions.

The proportion of game story to player story can vary wildly from title to title. There are games at both extremes of the spectrum, but most are positioned more toward the middle. And, simple puzzle games aside, it is a rare game indeed that doesn’t have at least a little game story or player story.

I believe when it comes to game story vs. player story, most games with any game story content at all will fall into one of five categories.

99% Game Story

Hallmarks

Same linear game story for all players

No choice or customization of player character

Exactly one way to win

No opportunity for expression of individual play style

Limited or no artificial intelligence to computer-controlled characters, preventing emergent stories from interactions with them

Examples

Dragon’s Lair

Space Ace

Parappa the Rapper

It is rare to find a modern video game that is nearly 100% pre-determined, right down to every successful player action. The original Dragon’s Lair laserdisc arcade game from 1983 is a good example of a title that is almost completely dominated by game story.

If you watched five different successful playthrough videos of this classic arcade game, they would look virtually identical. The narrative content remains exactly the same each time, and the path to success is rigidly set, with only one way to solve each gameplay challenge. Even on a moment-to-moment basis, the events must unfold exactly the same way for every successful player if they are to proceed.

The only personal influence a particular player might have on the story experience is how many times she failed and had to respawn at a checkpoint. While that in and of itself is technically a player’s story, it is the thinnest and least interesting sort. Because of this, we’ll call player failure a given and discount it from the rest of this section.

Graphically, Dragon’s Lair’s movie-quality art and animation put to shame its pixel-pushing competitors of the time. But even a game with graphics as relatively crude as Space Invaders provided much richer player story possibilities.

The primary advantage of this type of game is the potential to craft a narrative that, freed from the vagaries of player influence, has the potential to be just as well-crafted as the best stories from any other medium, such as novels or movies. The main disadvantage is the other side of that very coin; without giving the player opportunities to make any interesting choices, the experience boils down to a trial-by-error test of reflexes and rote memorization. Many would say it barely qualifies as a game at all.

Game Story Dominant

This is a game that emphasizes rich, linear story material, potentially at the expense of player freedom.

Hallmarks

Same linear game story for all players

Few if any side missions or optional quests

Limited or no choice or customization of player character

Opportunities for player choice and self-expression only in moment-to-moment gameplay sequences

Moderate opportunities for expression of individual play style

Interactions with computer-controlled characters provide potential for small-scale emergent stories

Examples

Uncharted series

The Last of Us

Spider-Man (2000)

Batman: Arkham Asylum

God of War

Game story-dominant experiences provide for a bit more self-expression and unique-to-each-player experiences — almost exclusively during the moment- to-moment gameplay — but still cleave closely to a linear, pre-crafted narrative that ends up being the same for all players.

For example, everyone who plays all the way through Uncharted 2 will be playing as Nathan Drake, and every player’s Nathan Drake will look exactly the same, go to identical locations, and fight the same enemies for the same in-story reasons.

However, within the gameplay sections of the missions, the player has a variety of available verbs and enough choices — of movement, of weapons, of play style — to allow for experiences that are unique to him. With various weapons and ammo scattered around an environment containing multiple cover positions and AI enemies dynamically reacting to player actions and to each other, the player is free to express himself within this context and resolve the situation in any way he can. The possibility space is still somewhat limited, but there is nevertheless opportunity for a unique player story: How I managed to beat those ten mercenaries!

Of course, these player stories are only of a moment-to-moment nature, and don’t extend into the rest of the narrative or even change anything about the next mission. Once the combat and/or traversal climbing ends and a transitional cutscene begins, the game snaps right back to the linear game story, which is identical for all players. The player is powerless to have any effect on how things turn out. Everyone who plays Uncharted 2 to completion will see the exact same, expertly crafted conclusion.

Working in favor of games such as this is the fact that the hand of a professional writer can be put to good use, fashioning a strong and well-paced narrative that nevertheless allows for player choice and expression within certain confined areas of the experience. However, some players want more customization, control, and influence on events than is allowed for within this type of design.

Balanced Game and Player Story

A game design intended to strike a balance between predetermined story content and player choice and expression.

Hallmarks

Same or very similar overarching game story for all players

Limited, often binary game story variations based on player actions or decisions

Some choice and/or customization of player character

Non-linear and/or optional missions

Significant opportunities for expression of individual play style

Interactions with computer-controlled characters provide potential for emergent stories

Examples

Grand Theft Auto series

Far Cry series

Red Dead Redemption

Fallout 3

BioShock

The Walking Dead: Season One

Tomb Raider (2013)

A reasonably equitable relationship between predetermined and dynamic story elements is the compromise favored by many popular game designs. Essentially it’s an attempt to “have your cake and eat it too.” The goal is to provide the main components of a satisfying, resonant, and classically structured game story, while also offering the player ample opportunities to — within that framework — express stylistic preferences, personal reactions to characters and situations, and a greater sense of agency.

Some games of this type provide an open-world environment teeming with AI to provide random and sometimes unpredictable encounters, and peppered with quest-givers who dole out missions ranging from purely optional to a requirement for advancing the game story. The freedom given to the player to explore, combined with the systemic AI and their potential reactions to the player and to each other, can provide an environment rich with player story possibilities.

Many games in this category also provide the player plenty of choices when it comes to her player character(s). In addition to visual customization, the player can determine her avatar’s areas of skill and expertise, either via menu choices or even by performing certain actions repeatedly in the game space and watching her player character “get better” at it. This unlocks certain player character verbs while ruling out others, providing for unique player story experiences.

Perhaps the most significant and challenging feature games of this ilk sometimes attempt is to incorporate player choices that do affect the overarching, pre-crafted narrative in some way. These branched structures are tricky since, with multiple levels of branching, they have the potential to set up a combinatorial explosion of possibilities, each of which may require custom content — most of which will never be experienced by a given player during a playthrough. This can mean creating a large amount of content that most players will not see, robbing precious development time and effort from the content that the player does end up experiencing.

One solution to this dilemma is to restrict the ramifications of player choices to settings that are quietly tracked by the game itself. Usually invisible to the player, these “flags” don’t often change the big-ticket aspects of the narrative — where you go, what you must do — but instead alter more minor aspects of the experience along the way. For example, if you are rude to an NPC in Mission 1, the game may silently set a flag that is referenced and reflected when you run into that character again in Mission 3. (Perhaps she’s much less friendly.) This approach may still require the creation of alternate versions of assets, situations, or entire missions, but improves efficiency somewhat by allowing for significant sharing of most assets.

BioShock silently tracks some of the moral decisions you make during gameplay and uses that data to present one of two different closing cutscenes. And The Walking Dead: Season One provides many small-scale choices in dialogue and action that can have noticeable effects on later events and situations. However, in order to control scope, the game’s developers made sure that none of these flag-based variations change where you go, what you’re tasked with doing, or how the story ends.

Another solution to the threat of a combinatorial explosion of branched content is to keep the choice binary and then “pinch back” into a single, unified story thread.

This was the approach we took in Marvel: Ultimate Alliance 2, on which I was lead writer. Once the player chose a side in the super hero Civil War, he experienced a unique series of missions from that perspective — but then we introduced a bigger threat that required both sides to put aside their differences in order to face it.

This allowed us to craft a unified third act that resolved the branching and saved us from effectively developing two different games. (That said, we also included some flags that allowed us to sporadically acknowledge which side the player had chosen in the war, including the playing of two mildly differentiated closing cutscenes.)

Using a balanced approach between game story and player story creates the potential to please the widest range of players — from those who crave a well-crafted narrative to those who want a decent amount of freedom and a significant feeling of agency. The main downside of this approach is an ongoing challenge in finding the correct balance and dealing with what may be unclear priorities during development between crafted and emergent storytelling. When both are considered equally important to the design, which one wins when a conflict emerges? And of course, another risk when one attempts to provide the “best of both worlds” is to fail at doing either particularly well.

Player Story Dominant

This type of game design emphasizes player choice and agency over rich, pre-determined story elements.

Hallmarks

Same or similar overarching game story for all players

Thinner, less developed and less compelling crafted story

Limited, often binary game story variations based on player actions or decisions

Significant range of choice regarding player character

Often multiple player characters with wide variety of customization options

Allows for “perma-death” of multiple player characters

Less emphasis on the creation of engaging, memorable game characters

Emphasis on strategy and/or tactics

Examples

X-COM: UFO Defense

XCOM: Enemy Unknown

FTL: Faster than Light

Warcraft series

Starcraft series

As we move further down the spectrum toward an emphasis on the player’s story over the game’s predetermined narrative, we come upon titles that provide highly systemic gameplay spaces with almost limitless player story possibilities — but which are nevertheless stitched together with a unifying story that is essentially the same for all players.

Looking at the examples in this group, you’ll notice they are all strategy games with the player taking on more of a “god” role, controlling a number of disposable player characters and using them as a diversified team to achieve victory in various scenarios. While there may be named NPC characters either on the battlefield or with the player in the command bunker (or equivalent), in general the controllable characters are template-based cyphers that the player eventually grows attached to and infuses with personalities based on her experiences with them, or just her preference. In the case of the X-COM games, FTL, and others in this genre, certain player characters may also be very close to the player’s heart due to the expertise they’ve gained over the course of the game up to that point.

The potential for these characters to permanently die along the way without causing automatic mission failure — otherwise known as perma-death — adds much to the potential of the player story and its emotional impact. There is an “anything can happen” feeling during gameplay that players don’t generally experience in games of the previous categories, and it can be intoxicating. Players may never forget emergent scenarios in games like these in which one of their favorite player characters paid the ultimate price to help achieve victory, or in which everyone in the group perished except for one terrified but dogged survivor who somehow pulled off the win.

However, these games also have an overarching game story — generally focused on an enemy force that needs to be defeated. The details will vary, and the narrative elements are probably thinner and more flimsy than in the previously described categories. But games of this ilk still tie their systemic gameplay experiences together with noninteractive sequences that are as aligned with the Three-Act Structure as any Hollywood epic. By providing context, structure, fictionalized motivations, and an emotional center, predefined narrative elements prevent the game from devolving into a repetitious, endless, and potentially empty-feeling experience.

99% Player Story

A game design that includes characters and a world, but almost completely eschews crafted narrative structure in favor of gameplay.

Hallmarks

No overarching story, just a world and narrative context

No ending per se

Often multiple player characters with wide variety of customization options

Allows for “perma-death” of multiple player characters

Emphasis on strategy and/or tactics

Sometimes multiplayer-only

Examples

League of Legends

Titanfall

Team Fortress 1 and 2

SimCity series

The Sims series

Civilization

Mortal Kombat

Dead or Alive series

Super Smash Brothers series

Finally, there are games that feature characters and take place in a fictional world, but in which stories only emerge in a systemic fashion. They generally fall into three genres: simulation games, fighting games, and multiplayer-only battle arenas (MOBAs).

In all three types, only a touch of game story is applied at the outset — to establish the context of a fictional world, a starting situation, and possibly characters in that world — and then the player is essentially turned loose in the play space, free to take whatever actions are allowed by the rules and systems.

Simulation games, such as the aptly named SimCity or The Sims, feature dizzyingly complex and interdependent systems that create massive possibility spaces, allowing for maximum player expression. The player doesn’t directly control any characters, but instead controls situations, setups, and organizational elements to influence characters and cause events to move in one direction or another. Complex interactions between the various in-game systems produce interesting and highly unpredictable results that, with the benefit of hindsight, should mesh with what the player knows of the world and the choices she’s made. With no specific victory condition, the player’s story can go on indefinitely.

The main strength of this setup is getting out of the player’s way and freeing her to start creating her own stories within the space. However, with virtually no game story or direct control of player characters, this genre of game is aimed at a very specific type of player. Only the very best of these games can hope to capture a large audience.

Fighting games, their origins generally traced back to the venerable 1991 arcade hit Street Fighter II, have rarely incorporated much of a pre-crafted narrative structure to their proceedings. Their players come for one thing: to fight! And designers of these games generally focus on giving those players what they want, allowing the stories to emerge from the endless interactions the play space allows. A recent exception to this rule was the surprising hit Injustice: Gods Among Us (NetherRealm, 2013), a traditional fighting game featuring the DC Comics super heroes and villains, and incorporating an epic, extended story experience.

Multiplayer-only games set up a general context and then rely heavily on players to generate emergent stories for each other. It can be an effective strategy. After all, there is nothing less predictable or controllable than other human beings, and en masse they will come up with all kinds of behaviors and tactics within the rulesets that a designer (or small group of designers) might never imagine or plan. Examples at the time of this writing include the very popular MOBAs League of Legends and World of Tanks.

Designers of MOBAs know that players who come to enjoy their product — even those who might otherwise appreciate a linear story in a single-player game — do not have much interest in narrative content when it comes to team-based competition in a shared space. Apart from outside-of-game lore content, the developers don’t waste their time creating or integrating story material, and they don’t let it get in the way of the players’ shared experience.

The downside of this approach is that your game may feel less like an intellectual property and more like a gameplay facilitation space. Player loyalty and attachment will not be so much to your world or characters but to your game systems, which are difficult to transport to other media for continued expansion of the property.

So Whose Story Is It, Anyway?

When weighing the benefits of leaning toward one end of this spectrum or another, it’s important to keep in mind that the bars of quality for game story vs. player story are very different.

As discussed, game stories are crafted and predefined. They can be developed slowly, tweaked and refined, tested and perfected. These are all qualities they share with the storytelling approaches of more traditional media such as movies. And because of this, game stories are often compared to the best examples from those other media.

And, for many reasons previously covered in this book, they are often found wanting.

However, player stories, emergent and personal, are judged by a different standard. It often doesn’t matter if the story is objectively a good one. A player story is much better received by the participant simply because he was there.

If the player were to excitedly relay his personal story to someone who wasn’t present and didn’t take part, the tale will probably not hold up very well.

If you don’t believe me, talk to a friend who plays Dungeons & Dragons and ask him to tell you about his latest quest in the game! As thrilling as it may have been for him to directly experience it at the time, the resulting narrative will almost surely be less than compelling to an outsider. You had to be there.

But for the player himself, it will be memorable.

Which is more exciting, more heart-pumping, and memorable — a movie about a baseball team making an incredible comeback to win the World Series, or watching it actually happen to your favorite team, in real time, right in front of your eyes?

Even though the movie version might be better crafted — with well-defined characters, compelling cinematography, perfectly tuned dialogue, and a rousing score backing it all up — it will probably fail to evoke the same degree of raw emotion that watching a less-polished but emergent version would. Why? Because the audience knows it’s pre-crafted, knows it’s not actually happening. Suspension of disbelief only goes so far when compared to something that’s for real. Thus, the objective quality bar for an emergent story is much lower than for a pre-crafted game story.

This isn’t to say that every emergent story is superior to every pre-crafted one. Game stories, being crafted and refined, are more likely to hit at least a certain bar of emotional impact, while player stories, by their very nature, can and will be all over the map — from incoherent and eminently forgettable to transcendent and indescribably thrilling.

The potential for the latter scenario to occur is among the reasons League of Legends is one of the most popular games on the planet at the time of this writing, with over 27 million people playing it on any given day.

That said, the more your design relies on emergent versus predefined stories, the more pressure it puts on your game designers — and possibly the rest of the team — to create play spaces with almost endless potential for unplanned but emotionally compelling interactions. Game stories are powerful tools to enhance the entire experience. If you decide to eschew them in favor of the player’s story, your game design and its systems had better be pretty fantastic!

Final Thoughts

During the long slog of a game’s dev cycle, it is frighteningly easy for “Game Design plus Narrative” to become “Game Design vs. Narrative.”

In the previous chapter (“Team Leadership”) much time was spent discussing the pushing and pulling that can and does occur during development of a game featuring a significant narrative element. Although various other considerations can impact your narrative plans, design tends to be the consideration that most often comes into conflict with story development.

In a story-based game, changes in design or narrative plans can wreak havoc on each other.

As a creative lead, you have the power to balance these various factors and decide, on a case-by-case basis, which is most important. Every time Design and Narrative come into a conflict that is escalated to your level, you need to do your best Solomon impression as you weigh the various benefits and costs — not only to the project, but to the enthusiasm and morale of your team members on both sides of the divide.

This should be nothing new to you. Indeed, saying yes to some ideas while saying no to others is a primary function of being a creative lead. But when Narrative is in the mix, it tends to be regarded as the ugly stepchild and can often be trumped by other considerations, almost by default.

This is not a problem if you’ve decided at the outset that your game’s narrative quality isn’t terribly important to its success (and if you’re correct in that assumption!). But if you believe the story content of your game is central, and is vital to its success, then in the heat of game development, it’s important at these junctures to step back for a minute and remind yourself of your priorities. The damage being done to a narrative structure in its formative stages is often only perceptible to the most experienced of writers and editors. So don’t assume that the “small” change you’re requesting your narrative experts make to their story design to be minor, especially if they indicate otherwise. As we covered earlier in this book, a “cool” idea may inadvertently introduce a risk to the story’s believability, characterization, pacing, or even to its structural integrity.

Understanding these risks is the first step in mitigating them… and in getting your game’s design and story to play more nicely together.(source:gamasutra)