作者：Jon Shafer

创造一款有趣的游戏是每个开发团队最初也是最后的目标。而这种飘渺的乐趣程度主要是取决于玩家决定的结果。游戏多复杂将决定着它能吸引什么类型的用户，或者更重要的是 将不能吸引什么类型的用户。

结果的角色和影响是现代游戏设计中最重要的一大主题。然而它所获得的关注却出人意料的少。因为我真的有很多内容想要与你们分享，所以我将把它们分成三部分。

像往常一样我们首先会确保每个人都能理解这一主题，以及为什么它值得被重视。而在第二部分中我们将分析游戏的死亡结果，第三部分将检查它们在特定类型中的位置，并加上 一些设计师的想法。

什么是结果？

从技术上来看，生活中的每个单一决定都带有某种类型的结果，所以如果我们希望该术语能够发挥用处，我们就需要进行更深入的探析。在游戏设计环境中，我为“结果”使用的 定义如下：

“用玩家在游戏内部中的行动或决定所引起的难忘结果。”

基于不同人，事件的难忘程度也会有所不同，但是但是比起面对一个非常模糊的术语，如“有趣”，你能从“难忘”中获得更多认同。你很难说服我“在20次尝试后杀死一个很难 的boss”或“在10个小时的游戏中的关键战斗中输得一败涂地”是没有价值的标签。

当我们说到结果时，我们通常不是指任何难忘的结果——我们几乎总是在讨论一个难忘但却糟糕的结果。如果你迟到了，你便会遭受处罚之类，这听起来一点都不酷。如果你偷了 好友的钱并被抓了，你也许需要去寻找新朋友了。

与生活中的情况一样，在游戏设计中我们也将担心负面结果。尽管我们能够宣称“做出一个明智的决定并因此获得奖励”是一个难忘且正面的结果，但你可能只是在说这是“一个 很棒的游戏设计。”至少，因为一些明智的行动或克服困难而奖励玩家并不是需要长篇大论的改革性理念。同样地，不管何时“结果”这一词出现在这一网站上，你都可能将其当 成是“糟糕的结果”。

我们必须注意的是，结果是双面的——不管是尽全力还是完全不存在的。在像任天堂的《马里奥》等平台游戏中，掉进坑里并需要往回走15秒可能是跳跃并错失目标的结果——但 同时玩家也有可能掉进一个充满钉子的坑里，立即死亡并需要从头开始游戏。从现在开始我们将把前个结果称为“轻量级”，后一个结果成为“重量级”。

几乎没有一款游戏完全没有结果——甚至是最休闲的游戏也具有一些轻量级结果。我们很难去明确定义什么是勉强难忘与完全忘记的边缘。举个例子来说吧，如果（在此插入RPG选 择）要求你为角色配备15个独立的道具插槽，那么几率便会非常低，因为我认为该放什么到每个插槽中的决定是具有结果的（游戏邦注：尽管我知道有些人不会同意我的看法，特 别是那些比起游戏玩法更喜欢定制内容的人）。

相反地，我们拥有最近发行的《幽浮：未知敌人》，它只允许玩家为自己的每个士兵配备一个武器，而当你的选择结果是在一个重量级结果中，你便拥有绝对的时间。并未伴随着 医疗包？就像陆军上校这次不会让它再回来！

还有许多有关行动在某一情境下创造出重量级结果的例子。也许在《幽浮》中非常幸运，没人受到伤害，渲染该决定并不会带来任何医疗包。同样地，你跳到一个平台上也会引 起截然不同的结果。通常情况下，在带有结果的决策比例中，重量级结果通常出现在策略游戏中，而轻量级则出现在行动游戏中。

公平和目标用户

结果和公平是非常相近的理念。如果我及时发动侵略或努力实现一次非常困难的组合，我是否应该获得奖励。但是如果我很鲁莽或草率，我便会承认自己所承担的风险和可能出现 的结果。然而公平结果与不公平结果之间的界线却非常模糊。如果有些玩家只是没有很好会怎样？他们不断游戏，但却从未变得更好。作为设计师的你是否会因此去惩罚他们？如 果带有特定的设计功能会怎样——没有不公平元素的永久死亡或只是游戏魅力的一部分？怎样的结果是合理的？怎样的又太过？

就像你可能猜到的那样，这只是取决于你想要创造什么类型的游戏。这样的两难局面与为什么游戏设计更偏向艺术性而不是科学系一样。尽管一款优秀的游戏能够整合任何分量的 结果，但确保它们保持一致仍很重要。玩家需要知道有什么可期待的，如果你的结果经常在重量级与轻量级间转变，它将会让所有人受挫—-那些想要看到轻量级结果的玩家将因为 沮丧而快速退出游戏，而那些期待看到重量级结果的玩家也会因为厌倦选择退出。

在这个时代中，设计师会采取两种常规方法中的一种：一种是兼容性，目标是尽可能为更多人创造有趣的游戏。另一种是专一性，即目标并不是面向所有人创造游戏，团队只选择 瞄准特定的“硬核”玩家。这两个极端之间存在着一定的空间，但设计师必须决定哪个才是最适合自己的。如果团队不能专注于自己真心想要完成的目标，游戏便有可能彻底迷失 方向。

在接下来的第二部分中，我们将在死亡环境下检查结果——不同的游戏类型将如何处理玩家或角色的死亡，以及我希望游戏开发者在未来能够整合的方法。

死亡是我们所面对的最严重的结果，所以它在我们的娱乐中扮演着重要角色也不足为奇。在这一部分文章中让我们着眼于一些处理死亡的方法，这些设计所带来的效果，以及我对 于未来的希望。

Permadeath

在玩家基于第一人称或第三人称视角进行控制的游戏中便经常存在死亡的可能性（甚至是必然性）。在现实世界中，死亡是所有结果中最后一个也是最沉重的结果。早前许多电子 游戏便包含了这种现实性，并突出非常沉重的死亡结果，说实话，我们完全可以将其看成是野蛮的表现。

像《行星游戏》等早前街机游戏的失败便导致了“permadeath”的出现——对于当前游戏过程突然，永久且不可挽回的终止。这将可能结果的沉重性保持至今日。然而，我希望我 们能够看到一款游戏不断增加赌注并整合永久的死亡机制——在这里输掉游戏便意味着你永远都不能再玩游戏了。我想为此我们可能还需要再等一段时间，但是只要Peter Molyneux（游戏邦注：游戏界天才，名列美国互动艺术学院奖名人堂）还在，我就不会让让这个梦醒来。

伴随着最糟糕的结果，permadeath可能是游戏中最极端的功能。如今的大多数游戏社区都不能容忍它，但也存在一个强大的可能性指望着它。实际上，如果没有permadeath，也就 不存在roguelike类型。过去几十年存在着一股趋势，即朝着较为轻量级的结果发展——但是近来，一些游戏开始避开这一模式了。像Tarn Adam的《矮人要塞》以及Subset Games 的《FTL》等游戏的成功便告诉我们，玩家仍非常渴望看到超级沉重的结果的出现。

尽管让基于高预算的AAA级游戏完全整合像permadeath这样的功能太过冒险，但是许多游戏已经在这方面做出大胆的尝试，即通过一些选择去整合它，如《钢铁侠》。就像 Irrational Games备受期待的游戏《生化奇兵：无限》便包含了一个名为“1999模式”的特殊功能。虽然这名字听起来像是在开玩笑，但却强调了近年来游戏变得更简单且更轻量 级的观点，以及回到游戏可能逼哭玩家时代的承诺。

我们已经谈论了permadeath在游戏历史中的地位，但是它真正能做些什么？

它所扮演的最大角色是将情感的两端推向极限。挫折很常见，玩家可能不断去撞击那些特别困难的挑战，十次，甚至是上百次。然而对于这种努力的奖励却是非常让人满足的胜利 —-通常都是很短暂的。

技能，精确和谨慎将获得奖励，自发性和冒险则会遭到惩罚。Derek Yu的《洞穴探险》?便是个典例。一个陷阱就可以轻轻松松杀掉玩家，不了解某片区域而到处乱跳具有很大的危 险性。未突出permadeath的游戏将尝试着鼓励玩家不顾一切地抛掷他们的角色，只为了看看会发生什么。permadeath让这种类型的“休闲发现”变得难以实行。

在这两种情况下探索都会获得奖励，但是permadeath基于“我们能否找到那边有什么”去设计带有轻量级结果的游戏体验，而不是列出“我是否想要找到那边有什么？”的问题。 版本A是关于克服挑战。版本B则专注于提供给玩家自由去实现他们自己的想法，不管是什么。

有时候，再多的前瞻性也不能拯救玩家，permadeath是完全抽象的。《洞穴探险》中狭窄的陷阱将从超过一个屏幕的范围向玩家发动射击——你可能不幸地刚从一个窗台下来，并 因此被隐藏的陷阱所射死。一个小时的游戏便因此结束了。

这种抽象性基于概念层次定义了permadeath的目标——当设计师创造了这类型游戏时，他们想要玩家多次访问体验。你不能只是玩一次并“完成”游戏。你将会死亡，你将再次尝 试。permadeath是关于克服最后的挑战——即以每次尝试的失败为代价。玩家可能会接受并包含这一理念，或者将游戏放回架子上（或丢尽垃圾箱里）。

RPG中的死亡

就像之前所提到的，与游戏导致沉重结果的小小复苏一样，在最近几年这一实践也越来越频繁地出现在我们眼前。几乎每一款角色扮演游戏（甚至是许多“早旧的”类型）都更倾 向于轻量级结果。

在基于团体的RPG中，如果每个角色都陷入战斗中，这将很容易出现游戏结束的结果，并紧跟着出现加载画面，但如果是个体成员的死亡，那么便会出现各种可行的方法。

在比起大多数基于团体的RPG中，Bethesda的《天际》便打破了常规，即更倾向于重量级结果，规定同伴的死亡是永久性的。这是始终伴随着玩家的沉重结果。讽刺的是，策略游戏 （《幽浮》）总是能够在此有效地呈现出可能性——我将在第三部分文章中进一步提到这一内容。

同伴permadeath的可能性与玩家主角遭受到同样命运的风险具有同样的效果——必须更谨慎地计划决策。当然，最大的不同在于游戏不会结束，玩家能够与人数削减的同伴继续前 进。这将导致游戏的关键性时刻——或基于重新加载。玩家被推向哪个方向取决于角色所面临的损失。如果失去一个同伴导致战斗力的50%的损失，那么玩家必定要面临重新加载的 结果。这也是我们会在第三部分中详细提到的。

占据着《天际》结果的主要地位的团体RPG并不能永久地杀死任何人（至少在故事之外），只会要求“被杀掉的”角色停止使用，直至他/她复苏。这与一个特殊的道具或咒语有关 ，或者在一个带有更沉重结果的游戏中，它将只会出现在一个特殊的位置上。我看过的关于死亡的最轻的结果是拥有一个单独的战术战斗模式，即死亡只能维持到一场战斗结束， 在这之后死掉的角色将伴随着少量的HP重新回到世界地图上。

大多数JRPG都是利用我们所检查过的一种方法。这些处罚的力度都较轻，并经常用于玩家需要频繁加入战斗的游戏中。这些游戏通常都会在boss战斗中要求不同的战术，这是唯一 一次整个团体面临可能被打败的危险时刻。

这一结果将导致游戏陷入一些可疑的设计领域。要求玩家加入许多没有多大风险的战斗的游戏很快就会被厌倦。他们通常需要以“刷任务”的成瘾性去阻止玩家离去。我自己更喜 欢那些将死亡风险或某种形式的沉重结果呈现在每一场战斗中的游戏，并要求玩家付出更多治疗资源才能战胜对方。

有效整合沉重结果并将permadeath留在场外的一个典型例子便是Stardock的《Fallen Enchantress》。在《FE》中，冠军的死亡将导致某种形式的损害，但却是可以治愈的，不过 治愈解药却非常稀少且昂贵。这不仅能够有效激励玩家去保护自己的英雄，同时也能避免玩家厌倦了与permadeath一样沉重的结果。这种妥协能够更有效地吸引玩家的注意，但却 不是面向所有人。

当玩家的整个团体在RPG中全部死亡时，结果便是回到最近的检查点，不管是自动的还是通过更加迂回的路线，如“加载你最后保存的游戏”。这种惩罚的的严重或轻松是取决于检 查点的远近，以及需要重塑的过程。不管结果多沉重，这都是一种非常原始的方法，并能够有效运行，同时也存在很大的完善空间。

游戏中的死亡的未来

我很尊重那些突破束缚将死亡整合到游戏机制中的游戏，使它不再只是伴随着加载最近保存内容的“游戏结束”画面。

第一人称射击游戏《Prey》便是这样的例子——死亡后，玩家会进入一个特别的领域，在那里，他们需要在特定时间内杀死一定数量的敌人。在玩家控制由其它星球的能量或魔法 所组成的角色的游戏中，我们会发现一些更具体的机制。“死亡”后，他们会回到这一星球，而这刚好是一个带有角色，任务等的完整世界。然后再次进入“主要的”宇宙，即大 部分游戏内容发生的地方，在这里游戏会要求玩家执行各种不同的任务。可以说几乎没有任何一款游戏曾经出于任何理由采取过这样的方法。

稀有是一种设置，能够以一种可信的方式处理玩家的死亡和之后的复苏。即使知识上不存在任何障碍，仍存在复苏可能太过无趣的风险——如果你死了20次，并且每次都需要完成 同样无聊的任务时，那么这种方法是否还比加载20次来得有效？虽然《Prey》中的死亡系统非常独特且有趣，但却也会快速变得反复且最终其价值也成为了富有争议的问题。

然而，这与开发者们可能会面临的任何其它设计挑战都没有区别。游戏设计很艰难，并且总是会建立在别人所完成的创作上。没人从像《Prey》这样的游戏中接过指挥棒，所以在 此并未出现多大的进步也并不让人意外。

我想为什么我们看不到更多人去尝试有趣的死亡和复苏机制的主要原因是这并非游戏开发决策制定者会做出的优先选择。实际上，现在许多游戏正在尝试着让死亡变得是完全可以 避开的内容，甚至对于那些还不熟悉游戏的玩家来说。虽然不管出于何种理由，这都不是一种糟糕的方法。但是要知道这里存在着许多未被挖掘的潜力，我的希望是这在未来能够 成为一个富有创造性的领域。未来的事情谁会知道呢，也许某一天我就会想要试试看！

在接下来的第三部分中，我们将讨论结果在策略游戏和MMO中所扮演的重要角色，玩家与结果的关系以及我们将如何使用这些信息去创造更棒的游戏。

在前两部分文章中我们介绍了结果主题，谈论了不同用户所追求的结果，并通过玩家角色的死亡看到运作中的结果的效应。

而在本篇总结中，我们将讨论与死亡不相干的结果，在策略游戏和MMO中结果所扮演的重要角色，玩家与结果的关系以及设计师该如何发挥它们的优势。

与死亡不相关的结果

死亡总是会导致游戏所提供的最重要的结果，但仍有许多其它情境值得我们去考虑。我们将在此涉及其它一些较重要的结果。

在幕后操作的单方面结果是伴随着能力与道具的使用。在此最重要的问题是它们何时可以再次使用？最轻量级的结果是基于较短的间隔时间计时器。我将任何采取这一方法的机制 称为一种“能力”。不管是在现实游戏还是回合制战斗游戏中，我们都能看到间隔时间计时器功能。对于发射一个强大的咒语，你不能在接下来的10秒或4个回合内继续使用该技能 。开发者在创造一款带有源自普通游戏的战术战斗模式，以及是否允许玩家在每次战斗中使用能力超过一次的游戏。显然，间隔时间越短，结果便越轻。实际上，在频繁出现战斗 以及间隔时间很短的游戏中是几乎不存在结果的。在执行一些要求消耗“神力”或“能量”（游戏邦注：这些资源可以自动恢复，或轻松地填满廉价的道具，或在“补充站”储蓄 能量）的特殊行动中也是如此。

我个人并不是很推崇这些方法，因为如此轻量级的结果很容易导致玩家之后对其不理睬，或者他们必须担心难以获得主要能力的境况。毕竟，如果你永远都不会耗尽神力，为什么 还要让它存在于游戏中？不幸的是，大多数JRPG以及许多西方的RPG都遭遇了这一问题。像《天际》这样的“行动RPG”便未提供足够的时间让玩家基于战略意义去规划战斗，所以 比起一些你计划好的事，耗尽神力更不便。

这将我们引向了有关能力/道具使用的重量级结果。从基本上来看，“道具”一经使用就一去不复返了。在大多数游戏中道具所面临的问题是，1）太多了，导致为其消费不需要做 出任何思考，或2）不够重要，所以它们只值得消费不值得储存。游戏通常通过提供提升难度的选择去结果这一问题，如《Persona》和《Witcher》。不幸的是，许多游戏将玩家带 向了更简单，且不看重策略的设置中。当然，你可以发行一款更复杂的新游戏，但要知道只有少数人会玩多次的RPG类游戏。即便如此，这里也存在一些非常出色的游戏玩法，即有 的游戏会提供足够的挑战性，像规定道具使用是获取成功的关键因素。这对于设计师来说是一条狭窄的绳索，但是如果他们能够成功走过这条绳索，这对于那些追求重量级结果的 人来说将是巨大的奖励。

结果能够扮演重要角色的另一种方式便是当开发团队决定整合分支点（即玩家不能在一款游戏中做所有的事）时。它的范围从像非游戏玩法对话选择（游戏邦注：回答X，你将永远 都不会看到角色对Y的回应）等最小结果，到像该使用怎样的NPC，而哪些又该永远留下等更加严肃的决定。与其它大多数结果不同的是，被吸引的用户分支类型主要是基于玩家的 完成趋势。有些人希望能在一次游戏过程中看到所有内容并做所有事。也有些人更倾向于给游戏另外一个机会去明确会发生些什么，或接受朝A前进就要放弃看到B结果的选择。对 于开发者来说，这里并不存在明确的选择—-这只是关于个人和设计喜好。但是，如果我们不得不进行猜测，我更希望今天的大多数玩家被归到前一类。

持久游戏中的结果

在玩家的成就能够维持多年重要性的MMO和Facebook游戏中都带有与结果的一种奇怪关系——而这一关系总是会让设计师的工作变得更快复杂。

人们会花许多时间持续玩一款游戏是因为他们的时间投资是有回报的，事实上当我们获得某些内容时是不大可能再失去它们的。玩家成功玩了蛮久的《洞穴探险》却只是看到它最 终结束于30分钟的标记与玩家花30个月去控制《魔兽世界》的角色却不料他会在一次艰难的打斗中丧生是完全不同的情况。尽管我更喜欢游戏中的沉重结果，但是我也不得不承认 持久游戏中的结果最好能够倾向于轻量级。

之后的问题是，MMO设计是否能够超越15至60秒“具有象征性的惩罚”结果（实际上是没有意义的）？像突袭（一群人尝试着攻占地牢）等主要事件在这方面就做得不错。如果你在 突袭中花一个小时尝试着去获得一些战利品，却最终被最后的boss杀掉，这绝对就是一次重量级的结果！我认为这是这类型游戏中最有效的方法——整体进度是永久的，但是短期 的收获却仍是具有风险的。

甚至是最硬核的游戏也都有一个阀值。在《洞穴探险》的上个领域中死亡会让人不快，但幸好我最多只花了半个小时于一次运行中。如果我花了比这更长的时间，我可能不会继续 花时间去玩这款游戏了。关于持久游戏的一个特性便是玩家总是会投入比其它类型游戏更多的时间于这类游戏中。设计师需要认识到这点，并明确只是在“线性”模式中放大结果 是没用的这一事实。

策略游戏中的结果

少数策略游戏会突出玩家控制的主要角色的死亡，但这类型游戏中的结果却非常突出。实际上，如果我是那些喜欢为不同类型明确分界线的人，我便会认为“策略游戏”的定义是 像“一款具有非常高的行动结果比例的游戏。”但幸好我不是那样的人。

策略游戏是检查结果角色最有趣的环境之一。不像基于故事或围绕着进程去实现一个特定目标的游戏，大多数策略游戏都不带有自然撤销状态。你在错误时间攻击了某一单位并且 该单位死掉了？真不走运，它就这么消失了！关于单位的可能损失要求玩家决定向谁传达内容，而又向谁隐瞒情况。像《高级战争》等轻量级游戏允许单位多次复苏，但是像象棋 这样重量级游戏则不会做出任何让步——受到攻击的单位会立刻出局。

不过即使是《高级战争》也有残忍的一面，如失误的单位将会频繁地死亡。在策略宇宙中，对于那些习惯于其它类型游戏的人来说，即使是最轻量级的结果也会让他们很受挫。这 让策略游戏设计师的工作变得非常困难——如果玩家不能接受你所呈现的结果，并只是再次加载的话，那么你精心设计的系统将只会带给游戏负面价值。

在策略游戏中伴随着永久性引发的战斗结果，资源的使用是我们需要考虑的另一个元素。你是否花钱去完善基础设施，或更新前线单位？甚至连单位的不熟也是一种资源管理。有 时候，资源消费是可撤销的（不喜欢你放置单位的地方？那就在敌人到达前将其移动到门边的位置！），但是较困难的却会毫不留情。想起便是基于重量级结果的策略游戏的典例 —-你在此所做的每个决定都是永久且有效的。结果便是，象棋总是能够吸引硬核用户的注意，其历史知名度也让它能够吸引硬核用户以外的人。

最近大热门的策略游戏《幽浮：未知敌人》便是少数死亡角色超越资源损失的策略游戏之一。它通过整合RPG元素做到了这点：你带有有限的特色士兵，每个人都拥有独特的外观和 能力。这从“享受”与“有助于成功”间区分了你的士兵。伴随着士兵的能力也将带来一些个人元素，这是这类型其它游戏中很少看到的。你每损失一名士兵不仅会影响你的策略 ，也会影响你的内在。《幽浮》呈献给玩家的结果并不是同时面向所有人，它能够提供给那些真心喜欢策略与角色扮演相融合的玩家极大的游戏乐趣，这也是其它游戏所不能给予 的。像《魔界战记》和《最终幻想战略版》等日本SRPG（策略RPG）也带有类似的机制，所以它们也能够吸引世界各地带有热情的玩家。

接受结果

游戏中最吸引人的趋势是关于多少玩家拒绝接受结果并愿意不断重新加载，直至获得自己想要的结果。更详细地思考这一情况，这并不会让我们多意外，因为大多数人将游戏当成 是自己逃离现实世界永久性结果的工具。所以为什么又要让自己的娱乐工具变得如此痛苦呢？

当我还年轻的时候，我玩过像《Panzer General》这样的策略游戏，那时候每当我输掉时，即使只是一个单位，我也会选择重新加载游戏。我并不理解这种行为背后的心理学，但 我认为这与游戏不是真实的这一实际情况相关，玩家会对自己说：“嘿，这就是我的世界，我会在此使用终极力量——既然如此，为什么我们不接受一个糟糕的结果？”

随着年龄的增长，我也发生了改变，今天的我已经能够从容应对游戏中的挫折了。实际上，很多时候当我在享受游戏乐趣时——基于一种奇怪的方式，失去一个重要的单位或角色 对于我来说其实也是一种荣誉。失败的能力会让体验变得更让人印象深刻且更有意义。如果不存在失败的深渊，也就不会出现胜利的山谷。角色都将复苏并从此幸福地生活中的故 事与那些随便什么事都可能发生的故事并不具有相同的影响。

所以这一切对于游戏设计师来说意味着什么？从根本上来看，我们必须接受自己所创造出来的结果不被玩家接受的情况。但这并不意味着我们不能塑造游戏设计去阻止重新加载机 制。

Paradox的《十字军之王2》便有效整合了不是很严重的结果，并让重新加载变成下意识反应。例如，在战争中的失败将消费玩家大量的金钱以及1，2个省会，但却不会因此结束游 戏。玩家有可能恢复并变得更加强大。这在其它公司的策略游戏中并未出现过。这里所使用的窍门是使用一个结构化系统去限制引导玩家朝着某以特定方向前进。侵略战争仍然是 有效的，失败的代价并非不可容忍。没有一种设计能够同时吸引所有人的注意，但这却是关于平衡将如何解决困扰策略游戏的一个问题。

大多数玩家都希望能够感受到自己有能力从挫折中恢复过来——最优秀的设计师总是能够明确一个最佳甜蜜点，即拥有足够重量级结果去娱乐用户同时也不会超过他们的底线。我 希望通过这系列文章能够帮助设计师们弄清楚自己所面临的一些决策，以及如何进一步完善自己的游戏。我真的很希望在未来，所有人都能创造出最棒的结果。

拓展阅读：篇目1，篇目2，篇目3（本文由游戏邦编译，转载请注明来源，或咨询微信zhengjintiao）

Consequences – Part 1 – Introduction

By Jon Shafer

Making a game that’s fun is the first and last goal of every development team (or it should be, anyways!). This ethereal funness is largely crafted by the consequences that result from player decisions. How punishing or difficult a game is can be the determining factor in what kind of audience it will – or more importantly, won’t – appeal to.

The role and impact of consequences is one of the most important topics in modern game design. And yet, it surprisingly receives very little attention. I actually have so much to talk about regarding this subject that I decided to split this article into three parts. All of them will be up within a week, so don’t fret if you’re just itching for more!

As usual, we’ll kick things off by making sure everyone has a base understanding of our subject and why it’s even worth caring about. The second article in the series will analyze the consequences of death in games, and the third will examine their place in certain unique genres, plus some parting thoughts for designers. Without further ado, let’s get to it!

…

So What Are Consequences, Anyways?

Technically, every single decision in life has ‘consequences’ of some kind, so we obviously have to drill down a bit deeper if we want the term to be at all useful. In the context of game design the definition I use for a “consequence” is as follows:

A memorable result brought about by a player’s in-game actions or decisions.

An event will be more or less memorable depending on the person, but you’ll find much more agreement as to what’s “memorable” than you would with an extremely vague a term like “fun.” You’d be hard-pressed to convince me that either ‘killing a difficult boss after twenty tries’, or ‘suffering a crushing defeat in the pivotal battle of a ten-hour game’ are unworthy of the label.

When we talk about consequences we’re usually not referring to just any ol’ memorable result though – we’re nearly always talking about a bad memorable result. If you get to class late you’ll get detention… not cool. If you steal money from a friend and get caught… well, it might be time to find a new friend.Just like life, in game design we’ll be worrying primarily about consequences from the negative angle. While it would certainly be valid to claim that ‘making a smart decision and getting a bonus because of it’ is a good memorable result and by extension a consequence – you’re robably just better off

calling that ‘good game design’. At the very least, rewarding a player for doing something smart or difficult isn’t exactly a revolutionary concept that needs to be dissected in a lengthy article. As such, whenever the term “consequence” is used on this website you should read that as “bad consequence.”

It’s important to note that consequences aren’t binary – either in full-force or completely nonexistent. In platformers like Nintendo’s Mario games, falling into a pit and having to make a 15 second backtrack could be the consequence for jumping and missing one’s target – but so too could be falling into a different pit filled with spikes, dying instantly and needing to start from the very beginning of the game. From now on we’ll refer to the former type of consequences as “light” the latter as “heavy.”

Almost no game is completely devoid of consequences – even the most casual are typically filled with light ones. It’s impossible to firmly define the edge between what is barely memorable and completely forgettable, but I would argue that anything less memorable than a 15-second journey back to where you just were probably lies beyond the end of the scale. To provide another example: if [insert RPG of choice here] requires you to outfit your character with 15 individual item slots, the odds are extremely low that I’d consider the decision of what to put in each to truly be of consequence (although I know some people would disagree with me, particularly those who enjoy customization far more than gameplay).

In contrast we have the recent release of XCOM: Enemy Unknown, which allows players to outfit each of their soldiers with only a single item, and there are absolutely times when your selection results in very heavy consequences. Oh, didn’t go with that medkit after all? Woops – looks like the colonel won’t be making it back this time!

There are often cases when an action can have heavy consequences in one situation, but none in another. Maybe you get (really!) lucky in an XCOM battle and no one is injured, rendering that decision to not bring any medkits moot. Similarly, when and where you jump in a platformer can lead to dramatically different consequences. In general, the proportion of decisions that have consequences to ones that don’t is higher in (“heavier”) strategy games, and lower in (“lighter”) action games.

Fairness and Target Audience

Consequences and fairness are closely-related concepts. If I launch a well-timed invasion or pull off an immensely-difficult combo then I should be rewarded. But if I’m reckless or sloppy then I acknowledge the risk I’m taking and the possible consequences. However, the line for what are and are not fair consequences is fuzzy. What if some players are, you know, just not very good? They play and play, but never get any better. As a designer, do you punish them for that? What about with certain design features – is permanent death with no reloading unfair, or is it simply part of a game’s charm? What consequences are appropriate, and which ones are too heavy?

As you’ve probably guessed, it really just depends on what kind of game you want to make. Dilemmas like this are why game design is more art than science. While a great game can incorporate consequences of any weight, it’s important that they remain consistent. Players need to know what to expect, and if your consequences frequently alternate between heavy and light it will frustrate nearly everyone – those wanting a lighter experience will soon quit in frustration while those expecting a heavier one will quit out of boredom.

In this era designers nearly always take one of two general approaches: One is inclusive, where the objective is to make the game fun for as many people as possible. The other is exclusive, where the goal is very much not A Game For Everyone? and the team unapologetically targets only certain ‘hardcore’ players. There’s certainly plenty of room in between the extremes, but a designer must decide which of the two is the priority, as there will be times when a game cannot do both, and must go one way or the other. A game can be completely derailed if the team lacks focus in what they are trying to accomplish.

Continue to part 2, where we examine consequences within the context of dying – how different genres and types of games handle player or character death (particularly permadeath) and approaches I hope game developers will embrace in the future.

Death is the most serious consequence we face, and it’s no surprise that it plays a prominent role in our entertainment. It also happens to be the subject of this second part of this series on consequences. Let’s look at a few of the approaches that have been taken with death, the effect created by these designs, and my hopes for what we’ll see in the future.

…

Permadeath

In games where the player controls a character of some sort in the first or third-person, there is often the possibility (or even the inevitability) of death. In the real world death is the most final and heaviest of all consequences. Many of the first video games fully embraced this reality, and featured very, very heavy consequences for dying… okay, let’s just be honest and call them downright brutal.

Failure in early arcade titles like Asteroids resulted in “permadeath” – the immediate, permanent and irrevocable termination of the current play session. This has remained the heaviest of possible consequences up to the present day. However, I hold out hope we’ll see a game raise the stakes still further and incorporate permanent game death – where losing means you can never play the game ever again. I have a feeling I might be waiting a while, but I refuse to let the dream die as long as Peter Molyneux is still around!

Along with being the harshest of all consequences, permadeath is likely also the most polarizing feature in all of gaming. Most of today’s broad gaming community can’t stand it, but a strong contingency exists that absolutely swears by it. In fact, the entire roguelike genre wouldn’t exist without permadeath. There has been a general trend over the past couple decades towards lighter and lighter consequences – but recently a small number of games have eschewed this pattern. The success of titles like Tarn Adams’s Dwarf Fortress and Subset Games’s FTL shows that an audience eager for super-heavy consequences is still very much alive.

While it’s too risky for big-budget AAA games to fully embrace a feature like permadeath, many have taken bold steps in this direction by enabling it through options such as ironman. It has been announced that Irrational Games’s much-anticipated title Bioshock Infinite includes a special feature called “ 1999 Mode.” The name is mildly tongue-in-cheek, but it highlights the perception that games have become easier and lighter in recent years, and the promise of a return to the good ol’ days back when men were manly and games made you cry has certainly resonated with a sizable audience.

We’ve talked about permadeath’s place in gaming history… but what does it actually do?

The biggest role it plays is to push both ends of emotion to te extreme. The highs are higher and the lows are lower. Frustration is common, as players can repeatedly bash their heads against particularly difficult challenges tens or even hundreds of times. However, the reward for this struggle is an incredibly-satisfying victory – one that is often fleeting.

Skill, precision and caution are rewarded, spontaneity and risk-taking punished. A good example is Derek Yu’s Spelunky. A single trap can easily kill the player, and jumping around without complete knowledge of the area is incredibly dangerous. A game that didn’t feature permadeath might instead try to encourage players to recklessly fling their character around, just to see what happens. Permadeath makes “casual discovery” of this sort completely unfeasible.

In both cases exploration is rewarded, but permadeath frames the experience in terms of “can I find out what’s over there?” whereas games with lighter consequences instead pose the question of “do I want to find out what’s over there?” Version A is all about overcoming challenges. Version B concentrates on providing the player the freedom to fulfill his or her desires, whatever they might be.

There are times when no amount of forward-thinking can save the player, and permadeath is completely arbitrary The arrow traps in Spelunky can shoot the player’s character from more than a screen distance away – you might just be unlucky and descend from a ledge only to get shot and killed by a hidden trap. Bam… an hour-long game ends just like that.

This arbitrary nature characterizes the goal of permadeath at a conceptual level – when designers create these types of games they want players to revisit the experience many times. You don’t simply play once and “finish” the game. You will die and you will try again. Permadeath is about overcoming the ultimate challenge – and failing in nearly every attempt to do so. Players will either accept and embrace this philosophy, or very quickly put the box back on the shelf (or in the trash).

Death in RPGs

As noted above, even with this small resurgence of games where death results in the heaviest of possible consequences, in general this practice has become increasingly rare in recent years. Nearly every game in the role-playing genre – even many of the ‘old-school’ variety – tend to skew more to the lighter side.

In group-based RPGs, a full party ‘wipe’ where every character falls in battle nearly always results in Game Over quickly followed by a loading screen, but when it comes to the death of individual group members a variety of approaches have been taken.

Bethesda’s Skyrim actually breaks the mold when compared with most party-based RPGs and leans on the heavy side, as the death of a companion is permanent. This can be a heavy consequence that sticks with players forever. In a twist of irony, a strategy game (XCOM) actually best demonstrates the potential here – I’ll have more to say about that game in the third article in this series.

The possibility of companion permadeath has similar effects to the risk of the player’s primary character suffering a similar fate – decisions must be planned out more carefully. The biggest difference is of course that the game doesn’t end, and the player is able to continue forward with a diminished party. This can lead to game-defining moments – or simply the opportunity to reload. Which of these two directions the player is pushed in depends on how crippling the loss of a character is. If losing a companion results in a 50% loss of combat strength then it’s nearly inevitable that the player will
reload. We’ll cover this too in more detail in part three.

Party-based RPGs which occupy the rung on the consequences ladder beneath Skyrim don’t permanently kill anyone (at least outside of the story), and will instead simply knock a ‘killed’ character out of commission until he or she can be revived. This could be done with a special item or spell, or in a game with heavier consequences it might only be possible at special locations. The lightest consequence for death that I’ve seen is used in some games that have a separate tactical combat mode,where ‘death’ only lasts as long as a single battle, and fallen characters are revived with a small amount of HP upon returning to the world map.

Most JRPGs utilize one of the approaches we’ve just examined. These penalties are typically fairly mild (a quick spell or item and dead characters pop right back up), and are often used in games where the player is tasked with engaging in frequent battles. These games usually require different tactics during boss fights, which are the only times when there’s any serious risk of one’s entire party being defeated.

These consequences can lead a game into some dubious design territory though. A game which asks players to fight a large number of battles with almost no risk can quickly become uninteresting for many players. They often must instead lean on the psychological dependency of “the grind” to keep people from quitting. My own preference is for games where the risk of death or heavy consequences of some form are present in every battle, and defeat requires more than spending a virtually unlimited healing resource.

A good example of a game that incorporates heavy consequences but leaves permadeath on the sidelines (that I’ve actually worked on) is Stardock’s Fallen Enchantress. In FE, a champion’s death results in a major injury of some sort that can be healed, but only with a rare and expensive potion. This not only strongly motivates players to protect their heroes, but avoids alienating the those who would be turned off by a consequence as heavy as permadeath. This middle ground will appeal to many players (myself included), but certainly not everyone.

When the player’s entire party dies in an RPG the consequence is nearly always returning to a recent checkpoint, either automatically or through a more roundabout “please load your last savegame” screen. How heavy or light this penalty is varies based on how far back the checkpoint was, and what progress must be remade. Regardless of how heavy the consequence is, this is a very primitive approach and while it works alright (perhaps just because everyone is so used to it), there is definitely room for improvement.

The Future of Death in Games

I have a great deal of respect for titles which break the mold and weave death into the mechanics somehow, making it more than a “Game Over” screen followed up by loading your most recent save file.

The first-person shooter Prey is one example – upon dying, players enter a special area where they are tasked with killing a number of enemies within a certain amount of time. A more fleshed-out mechanic might be found in a game where players control characters made up of energy or magic from another plane. Upon ‘dying’ they return to this plane, which happens to be a fully-realized world with characters, quests, etc. Rejoining the ‘main’ universe, where most of the game takes place, could require performing a variety of actions that differ each time. There are basically zero games which have taken an approach this grandiose – and for good reason.

Rare is the setting which can handle a character’s death and subsequent revival in a believable manner. Even if lore poses no obstacle, there is still the risk of the gameplay required by resurrection being tedious or unfun – if you die 20 times and have to complete the exact same boring quest every time, is that really better than just having to load 20 times? The death system in Prey was unique and interesting, but quickly became repetitive and ultimately the value it added is debatable.

However, this is basically no different from any other design challenge a developer might face. Game design is tough, and nearly always builds on the work done by others. With no one picking up the baton from games like Prey it’s no surprise very little progress has been made here.

I suspect the main reason why we don’t see more attempts t interesting death-and-revival mechanics is because it’s not made a priority by the decision- makers in game development. In fact, many games now actually try to make death completely avoidable, even for unskilled players. This isn’t a bad approach by any means, but more and more this is all we see. There is a great deal of untapped potential here, and my hope is that this will be an area of innovation in the future. Who knows, maybe I’ll take a crack at it one of these days!

Continue to part 3, where to close things out we’ll be discussing consequences unrelated to death, the fascinating role consequences play in strategy games and MMOs, and the player’s relationship with consequences and how we can use that information to make our games betterIn the first two parts of this series we introduced the topic of consequences, talked about what different audiences look for and saw the effect of consequences in action through the death of the player’s avatar or characters.

In this concluding article we’ll discuss consequences unrelated to death, the fascinating role consequences play in strategy games and MMOs, the player’s relationship with consequences and how designers can use that to their dvantage.

So without further ado, let’s wrap things up!

…

Consequences Unrelated to Death

Death nearly always results to the most significant consequences games have to offer, but there are a variety of other situations still worth looking at. We ’ll cover a couple more of the big ones here.

One way consequences secretly pull the strings behind the curtain is with abilities and item use. The most important question is, when – if ever – can they be used again? The lightest consequence is a short cooldown timer of some sort. Any mechanic which takes this approach I’ll call an “ability.” Cooldown timers feature in both real-time games as well as ones with turn-based combat. Fire off a powerful spell, and you can’t use it for another 10 seconds, or maybe 4 turns. Developers creating a game with a tactical combat mode detached from normal play also have the option of whether or not players are allowed to use the ability more than once per battle. Obviously the shorter the cooldown the lighter the consequence. In fact, consequences are almost nonexistent in games where combat is frequent and cooldown timers are short. The same is basically true when performing some kind of special action that requires spending “mana” or “energy,” and this resource either recharges automatically or can be easily refilled with cheap items or at ‘refill stations’ (such as inns).

I’m personally not a fan of these approaches simply because the consequences are so light that players can ‘fire and forget’ and rarely, if ever have to worry about a situation where a vital ability is unavailable. After all, if you’re never realistically going to run out of mana, why even have it in the game at all? Unfortunately, most JRPGs and many western RPGs suffer from this problem. “Action RPGs” like Skyrim usually don’t offer enough time to strategically plan combat once it has begun, so running out of mana is more of an inconvenience than something you plan for or around.

Which leads us to heavier consequences for ability/item usage. “Items” are basically anything which, when spent, is gone forever. The trouble items have in most games is that they are usually either A) so plentiful that spending them requires no thought whatsoever, or B) not important enough that they’re actually worth spending instead of just hoarding. This is often addressed in games that have options for increased difficulty, such as the Persona and Witcher games. Unfortunately, many titles steer players towards the easier settings where strategy is typically unimportant. Sure, you could just fire up a new game on a tougher level, but only a small number of people play RPG-style games more than once. Even so, there is definitely good gameplay here when a title offers enough challenge such that item usage is an important ingredient to success. It’s a narrow tightrope for a designer to walk, but when pulled off can be very rewarding for those who seek heavier consequences.

Another way consequences can play a subtle role is when the development team decides to incorporate branching points – that is, players are unable to do everything in a single game. This ranges from minor consequences such as non-gameplay dialogue choices (answer X and you’ll never see the character’s response to Y), to more serious decisions such as what NPC to recruit, and which to leave behind forever. Unlike most other consequences, the type of audience branching appeals to (and vice-versa) is mainly based on the completionist tendencies of a player. Some individuals like to be able to see everything, do everything in a single playthrough. Others are more willing to give a game another spin just to see what happens, or accept the fact going direction A forgoes the option of seeing where B ends up. There are no clear-cut rules here for developers – it’s just another one of those personal and design preferences. However, if I had to make a guess I would say that the majority of today’s gamers fall into the former category.

Consequences in Persistent Games

MMOs and Facebook games where a player’s accomplishments persist and remain relevant over years have a very strange relationship with consequences – one that can make the designer’s job very, very hard.

Ultimately, the reason people spend any time at all on persistent games is because their time investment will be rewarded, and it’s virtually impossible to lose something once earned. It’s one thing to make a long, successful run in Spelunky only to see it end tragically at the 30-minute mark… it’s quite another to spend 30 months on a World of Warcraft character only to have it permanently killed in a particularly tough fight. Although I definitely favor heavier consequences in the games I like to play, even I have to acknowledge that consequences in persistent games need to be on the lighter end. No permadeath here, folk!

The question is then – is it possible in MMO design to go beyond the 15-60 second ‘slap on the wrist’ consequence that is virtually meaningless? Major events like raids where a group people try to complete a dungeon together already does a solid job of this. If you spend an hour in a raid trying to earn some loot, only to be killed by the final boss – that can definitely be a fairly heavy consequence! (As nearly every serious MMO gamer can tell you) I think this is the best approach possible in this genre – overall progress is permanent, but short-term gains can still be at risk.

Even the most hardcore have a threshold past which a game is just unfun. Dying in the last area of Spelunky is painful, but at most I’ve lost a half hour on a single run. If it were much more than that then I probably wouldn’t have spent nearly as much time with it. One of the unique qualities about persistent gaming is that players nearly always pour much, much more time into them than any other type of genre. Designers need to be cognizant of that and the fact that simply scaling up consequences in a ‘linear’ fashion does not work.

Consequences in Strategy Games

Few strategy games feature the death of important player-controlled characters, but this is the genre where consequences can really shine. In fact, if I were one of those people who liked to obsess over drawing dividing lines between genres I might argue that the definition of a ‘strategy game’ is something like “a game that has a very high proportion of actions taken that have consequences to those which don’t.” But hey, thankfully I’m not one of those people!

Strategy games are one of the most interesting environments to examine the role of consequences. Unlike games that are story-based or centered around progression towards a specific goal, most strategy games have no natural undo state. Oh, you attacked with that unit at the wrong time and it died? Tough luck, buddy, it’s gone! Deal with it. The possible loss of units typically forces players to make tough decisions about who to send into the fray and who to hold back. Lighter games such as Advance Wars allow units to survive multiple ‘losing’ engagements, while heavier ones like Chess make no such concessions – an attacked unit is immediately toast.

Even Advance Wars can be fairly brutal though, as misplayed units can and will die fairly often. In the strategy universe even the lightest possible consequences can be extremely painful for those accustomed to other genres. This makes the job of the strategy game designer very difficult – if players do not accept the consequences you present them and simply reload then your carefully-architected systems have actually contributed negative value to the game. I’ll talk about this in more detail in the next section.

Along with the nearly-always-permadeath-inducing consequences of combat in strategy games, use of resources is frequently another factor to consider. Do you spend that money on improving your infrastructure, or upgrading your front-line units? Even the deployment of units is resource management. Sometimes the spending of resources can be reversible (didn’t like where you put that unit? Just move him to the space next door before the enemy arrives!), but the
tougher ones give no quarter. Our old friend Chess is one of the heaviest-consequences strategy games out there – every decision you make is permanent and impactful. As a result, Chess generally appeals to a fairly hardcore audience, with its historical popularity allowing it to spread a bit beyond that core.

The recent strategy hotness XCOM: Enemy Unknown (along with its now-old-enough-to-vote ancestor) is one of the few strategy games where death has a role beyond simply the loss of resources. It does this by incorporating RPG elements: you have a limited number of distinctive soldiers, each possessing a unique appearance and set of abilities. This elevates distinguishing between your squaddies from ‘luxury’ to ‘vital to success’. The ability to name and associate with your soldiers even brings a personal element, which is something lacking from nearly every other member of the genre. The loss of one of your own hurts not only your strategy but also your gut. The consequences XCOM forces onto its players aren’t for everyone, but they provide gaming bliss for those who desire that rare mix of strategy and role-playing which almost no other game offers. Japanese SRPGs (Strategy RPGs) like Disgaea and Final Fantasy Tactics can do something similar, and they too have found a dedicated and passionate audience across the world.

Accepting Consequences

One of the most fascinating tendencies in gaming is how many players refuse to accept consequences and will reload until they get the result they desire. Thinking about it in more detail, this is not terribly surprising, since most people look to games as an escape from the often-harsh, always-permanentconsequences of the real world. Why make your entertainment painful as well?

Even I have some skeletons in my consequence-accepting closet. When I was much younger I played strategy games like Panzer General, and while doing so I would nearly always reload if I lost even a single unit. I don’t fully understand the psychology behind this sort of behavior, but I imagine it has something to do with the fact that games aren’t real, and players think to themselves “hey, this is my world, where I wield ultimate power – given that, why would I ever accept a bad result?”

As I grew older I changed, and today I’m able to take gaming setbacks in stride. In fact, there are times when I relish it – in a strange way, losing an important unit or character is almost a badge of honor. The ability to fail is what makes experiences memorable and meaningful. If there is no valley of defeat, then there will also be no peak of victory. The stories where you know that the characters are all going to survive and live happily ever after don’ t have the same impact as those where literally anything can happen.

So what does this all mean to a game designer? Ultimately, we must be at peace with the fact that there are some players and some times where the consequences we’ve crafted or allowed for will not be accepted. But this doesn’t mean that we can’t shape the design of a game to discourage reloading.

Paradox’s Crusader Kings II does an excellent job of incorporating consequences that aren’t so heavy that reloading becomes the knee-jerk reaction. For example, a defeat in war will often cost the player a large amount of money and a province or two, but it’s not game over. It’s very much possible to recover and come back even stronger. This is almost never the case in the strategy games from other companies. The trick is a very structured system for diplomacy where limits steer players in a particular direction. Wars of aggression are still fruitful, and the price of defeat is not intolerable. No design appeals to everyone, but this is a great example of how a balance can be struck to sidestep an issue that’s plagued strategy gaming since the ability to write to a hard drive was provided.

Most players want to always feel like they have the ability to recover from setbacks – the best designers are able to identify that sweet spot where consequences are heavy enough to entertain their audience without going beyond that line. It is my hope that this series has helped shed some light on a few of the decisions designers are faced with, and how we might collectively step up our game. I, for one, am excited to see what everyone comes up with in the future!