Puzzled
OPINION
Who hasn't heard of Myst? What about Tomb Raider? In the first, you wander from screen to screen at a leisurely pace. In the latter, you run from screen to screen. But in both what you do is solve one illogical puzzle after another...
Many of the 'puzzles' may not have been constructed by the NPC creators to be puzzles; it just happened that whatever it takes to open the current door was misplaced in another room. But many of the puzzles were supposedly deliberately constructed to make it difficult for intruders to proceed towards their goal.
Difficult, but not impossible. Like maybe the NPC engineers were thinking, "We really don't want anybody to get in here, but if they're really clever, we'll make an exception, just for them."
Duh??
There are a ton of games available that are labeled "Adventure" games. In particular, games produced by - surprise - The Adventure Company. Agatha Christie's Murder On The Orient Express, Secrets Of The Ark, Secret Files Of Tunguska, Agatha Christie - And Then There Were None, Beyond Atlantis (I & II), Return To Mysterious Island, Riddle Of The Sphinx (I & II), Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes "The Silver Earring", The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes: The Mystery Of The Mummy, etc., etc., et al, ad infinitum, just to name a few. It's a loooonnnngggg list. There's a lot of titles from Sierra (of King's Quest fame), Lucas Arts (of The Secret Of Monkey Island fame), and, of course, the aforementioned Myst series (Cyan, Inc.) and Tomb Raider series (Eidos Interactive). Besides the "Adventure" games, there is a class of actual "puzzle" games as well: older titles like Karma: Curse Of The 12 Caves, Jewels Of The Oracle, Heaven & Earth, and more current releases like Soduku (which is actually an electronic version of an ancient Japanese puzzle game). Now, "puzzle" games having puzzles is a straightforward proposition. But when "Adventure" games start to incorporate huge numbers of puzzles in the storyline for the express purpose of keeping the protagonist from arriving at his desired destination, whatever "realism" that might have been present goes out the window.
It did not have to be that way.
Protests of "It's just supposed to be a game!" aside, reflect on what an adventure game is supposed to be. We become emotionally invested in the main character because we drive the character; that's our intellects deciding what the character does next. When the character fails, we fail. We may not look like him or her, we may not be able to physically perform like him or her, we may not speak like him or her, but by God, it's us that determine what they do!
Sort of.
We actually decide what the characters do by selecting from a set of actions the designers bothered to program into the game. Forget about Free Will; it's like ordering in a Chinese restaurant: you can have one selection from Column A for the first course, one selection from Column B for the second course, etc. Choose wisely or you'll have to go back to a previous Save.
Much of the fun of what we consider a "good" game comes from overcoming obstacles. We consider ourselves exceptional when we overcome difficult challenges and clever if we exercise flashes of insight and find novel solutions to unravel Gordian Knots. But we can only do that if the designers programmed those solutions into the game.
There is an expression that goes, "There's more than one way to skin a cat." That expression rarely applies to game designers. The number of games that I've played wherein the designers programmed in one, single, solitary, perverse solution to a problem defies statistical probability. Consider this example from Murder On The Orient Express:
You need to find a power source for a Ham radio. The only allowable solution is to
1) Place punch bowl on table.
2) Use the carafe of orange juice on punch bowl.
3) Place the statue in the bowl with orange juice.
4) In inventory, combine copper bracelet with pliers to get bent copper bracelet.
5) Use bent copper bracelet on bowl.
Anybody ever think of just taking some batteries out of a flashlight? How about tapping into the same power that feeds the electric lights?
Theoretically, the puzzles that we encounter in Adventure games have some foundation in "reality". That is, the same physical Laws (note the big "L") that constrain us also constrained the puzzle-makers. By designing games in this way, it makes it easier for us to identify with the characters we're running around in the game world. The less you have to "suspend disbelief" the more you can "get into" the game. But what can you say about the automated sentry robots that scoot around on anti-gravity platforms on Mysterious Island in Return To Mysterious Island? They were supposedly built by Captain Nemo in the late 1800's. Do you really think the how-to to duplicate that engineering feat would still be undiscovered today, more than a century later? (It's a pity you had to destroy all of those engineering wonders just to get yourself off the island. Guess the secret stays hidden for a few more centuries.)
And speaking of physical Laws, have you ever wondered how the Ancient Egyptians (or ancient whoevers) could build secret doors that after thousands of years can differentiate between different colors of painted marbles? And that the doors will obediently pop open when the painted marbles are placed in a specific pattern - despite not having been lubricated in over a thousand years? (Riddle Of The Sphinx)
Many, many adventures involve investigation of ancient constructions, whether it be Egyptians, Atlanteans, Incas, Aztecs, Knights Templar, Mongols, Romans, Greeks, Minoans, or a host of others. Built things are only as capable as the builders. And what they have built are containers, essentially big boxes. Understandably, many of the structures were built with the idea of keeping the wrong people out. Note that that means certain special people were meant to be permitted entry. Otherwise they might have just as well filled every nook and cranny with concrete - but where would be the fun in investigating a place like that? But even "special" people are still people. What do you think would happen if an Egyptian engineer emplaced a trap in the corridor on the way to the Royal Treasury which was triggered when a forgetful Pharaoh turned left instead of right? (This is why wealthy ancients employed guards - because a live, breathing person can decide when not to attack someone in the wrong place.) Traps were generally emplaced where no one was ever meant to go again. Places like tombs, where the spirits didn't have to worry about tripping traps, but grave robbers would. Door locks, on the other hand, usually were nothing more than if you had the correctly configured key, you could proceed. Or, if you knew where the door was, you could open it. (The Egyptians were particularly fond of plastering over doors.)
In ancient times, as today, puzzles were generally reserved for entertainment purposes. Things like Chinese puzzle boxes for example. Riddles, however, were frequently used for conveying clues to future unknowns - but it was assumed that those future unknowns were entitled to be informed about whatever secret it was that was concealed behind the riddle. For instance, riddles left behind by the Knights Templar were meant to be found by future Knights Templar. If they were indeed legitimate Knights Templar it was assumed that they would have been properly schooled in Knights Templar lore and be familiar with their many cryptic "truths" that only the Knights Templar were privy to. The mystery was created when the Knights Templar were exterminated. (Or were they? Maybe there's a Secret Society still operating in today's shadows, funded by the vast treasures the Knights Templar supposedly possessed. Who knows for sure?)
How many games have you encountered that incorporated puzzles where you had to correctly choose from a series of symbols, and then place those symbols into a specific sequence? Now, supposedly the NPC creator was making some kind of combination lock that only certain people would know the correct answer. But, in truth, what you're looking at is not so much a puzzle as a mathematical sequence. Consider: You have 4 symbols which we will call A, B, C, and D. There are 4 positions in which these symbols must be placed. Let's say that the correct solution is C-A-D-C. If you already knew that, it would take you all of 30 seconds to set the combination. But if you didn't know the combination in advance, how long would it take you to figure it out? The answer is about 5 minutes, max. Why so quick? Because all you have to do is run through the 256 possible combinations until you find one that works. (And you probably wouldn't have to actually try all 256 combinations; you'd stop as soon as you hit one that works.) What kind of engineer would create a lock that was that simple to bypass? Yet game designers use variants of that kind of puzzle over and over again.
Now, let's go Hollywood and look at "awful fate" consequences for not being fast enough or for making the wrong choices. My favorite is the floor in front of the door that opens over a lava flow. What is lava? It's melted rock. Melted rock is damn hot. (About 2000 degrees Fahrenheit.) What do you think the physical effect on any mechanism would be that was anywhere near that kind of heat for a prolonged period of time? What kind of lubricant would still function indefinitely, allowing a trapped section of floor to open up under trespassers? Yet, a game designer thinks it's entirely reasonable to have some evil Chinese villain build his palace over a lava flow, just so trespassers will get hung up on a puzzle lock that will drop them into the lava. Riiiight.
One of the underlying problems for Adventure designers is that there are only so many original puzzles available. Yet, they have to fill up game after game with something. So, in their quest to appear original, they make their puzzles more and more warped and the solutions more and more perverse. Like in Secrets Of The Ark:
1)Climb up onto the catwalk and then climb onto the platform to your right.
2)Shimmy over to the next platform and continue to make your way up onto the roof.
3)Once there, pick up some of the rubble a few feet away from Nico and you should also spot a satellite dish holder.
4)Turn it four times clockwise and then use it to slingshot the rubble over at the fire escape, knocking it loose.
Using a satellite dish holder as a slingshot? And in a place littered with rubble, the only rubble that you can pick up is on the roof. Riiight.
Despite the fact that we're dealing with a game, the ultimate goal should be to make it somewhat realistic. And Life is just filled with choices. And we are literally surrounded by hundreds, thousands of things. And as human beings, we are clever and adaptable, capable of improvising all manner of tools. Place any of us in a room and say, "Now, grab anything you think might be useful in the future," what do you think would be the biggest challenge? I would guess it would be trying to find some way to cart around all of that stuff. In most games, when left in a room, the character might find as many as two or three objects that have a high probability of being useful or necessary later. You can tell that they will most likely be useful or necessary because those are the only things that you're allowed to interact with. Wouldn't it be more realistic if you were allowed to interact with 20, 30 or 40 objects which you can pick up - only to learn that 95% of everything you find has no use in the game? There should be a price for being a kleptomaniac or pack rat, as well as the occasional reward for being smart enough to have grabbed something useful.
There are a few Adventure games that do, in fact, allow you to grab more stuff than you will ever need. In Agatha Christie - And Then There Were None I found that at one point my character was carrying numerous letters, a turkey baster, a cheese wheel wrapped in cheesecloth, a battery, a telescope, a tripod, a silk sheet, 2 vacuum tubes, fermented apples, fresh apples, a gas can, a leather goat harness, a ladder, a rubber raft, an air pump, a set of oars, and a bunch of other things as well. And while he was carrying all that, he could casually walk about and chat with people without anyone commenting about all the gear he was carrying. It struck me that it was nearly as bad to be allowed to carry everything as it was to be limited in my choices of what to carry.
Are there no sensible designers in this industry? Most of these games are at least to a small extent, roleplaying games. How hard is it to roleplay through a situation before setting the story in concrete? Like, try roleplaying the puzzlemaker or the trapbuilder. What tools and objects and science did they have available to them? Now, take those things into account when designing puzzle locks and traps. When you enter a room, what kinds of portable things are likely to be found there? Of those things, which ones would seem to be even the slightest bit useful in the future or present? Enough that you would be tempted to pick them up and carry them about? And when you become overburdened with all that gear, what would you be most likely to do? For me, it would seem that the smart thing to do would be to either dump stuff, or else cache some of it somewhere I know I could find again if I discover I need the cached items. How hard would it be to program an Inventory spot in each location? It wouldn't even have to be programmed for graphics; just program, "I went to my cache at this location and saw these items:" Essentially one internal Inventory and several external Inventories at different locations.
Am I asking for too much? Is it too much to ask for just a little bit of realism, even in fantasy settings? I pride myself for the way I think. I don't think it is a point of pride when I successfully think in the same perverse manner that some desperate designer did when he concocted some Rube Goldberg puzzle as he strove to come up with something that hasn't been used before.
"Wealth is choices. The more choices we have, the richer we are." The more choices of action in a game, the more "realistic" it becomes. So, come on, guys: make us wealthy. Or failing that, just give us our money's worth.