Wrapping Up At the GDC Austin

I'm finally getting some time to put some thoughts together on this year's GDC Austin, as I sit in the airport waiting for my flight back. Luckily, it's still possible to put some thoughts together, after dumping half a beer on (and in) my laptop last night. I thought for sure that was the end of the line for the MacBook Pro, but it seems to have survived the scare.

It was an impressive amount of beer dumped directly over the power button and right half of the keyboard, and I wasn't exactly the swiftest to respond. But after giving it some time to dry upside down, it did start up the first time I tried. After that, though, on subsequent power-ups it would only cough and gasp before shutting down. It looked bleak. I'm not sure what did the trick. I gave it one last shot by holding down the power button a little longer than usual; the little power light flickered and the laptop gave a loud, almost alarming BEEP (which I've never heard it do before, must have been really pissed at me), and then it started up just fine. Seems to have recovered from its hangover now, thankfully.

As to more entertaining matters, I have to say, my talk on design innovations in interactive fiction was clearly the hit of the Austin GDC.

I should probably clarify that: by "clearly", I mean "to me", and by "the hit" I mean "easily the third or fourth best-attended lecture out of the four at 9:30AM on Day Two."

The talk did go well, although I now understand that 9:30AM is actually considered pretty early at conferences like these. There was a time in my life when 9:30AM seemed very early, maybe too early for intentionally getting out of bed. Now, not so much. I'm certainly not one of those people whose eyes automatically pop open at 5:30 in the morning every day, but I have reached the point where sleeping until 8:30 is a rare luxury. I think, when they combined the relatively early presentation time of 9:30AM with the understandably niche topic of interactive fiction, the result was about what I expected, which was a modest crowd. I don't remember the number specifically, I'd say maybe 30, give or take a few.

Which is not a bad group at all, except that I was in the semi-cavernous "Ballroom G", which was designed to fit many more. At least their expectations were high.

I learned that morning lectures aren't the greatest for humor. Even the high-powered Blizzard crew found that out the following day. I also learned that even those intentionally attending a lecture on interactive fiction don't necessarily know much about interactive fiction. A number of people looked at me funny when I mentioned "Zork", and only two or three people in the audience knew the reference when I flashed up a picture of my XYZZY license plate. For real.

But overall, everything went off without a hitch, and there were some very interested attendees with nice comments and a few good questions. People seemed genuinely appreciative of the content. I had too many slides, so I had to cut out some of the most important ones (where to get and play IF games), but people were interested enough to stay after and get the information. I got to cover a number of great pieces of IF, and spent a bit of extra time on works like Alabaster and Blue Lacuna. People really seemed to be fascinated at what these pieces are able to do.

Gamasutra was at the conference to cover the various sessions, so I was looking forward to a summary article online. Alas, this would not come to pass. I'm assuming it was because of limited personnel, as well as a not-quite-headliner presentation, which is just how it goes. But it's too bad, because it could have extended the reach of the topic to a wider audience.

All in all, though, it was a good time and a fun experience. More thoughts to follow.

Day Three (at the AGDC): Stern on Linear Storytelling

The last day of AGDC was an excellent day, with two talks in particular that led to a good deal of spirited, academic discussion about storytelling and a third lecture that demonstrated some very slick next-gen controllers that could have a significant impact in the future on game design and interface.

The first talk of the day was given by Andrew Stern, he of Façade fame, although he did not focus specifically on the accomplishments of that project. Instead, his talk, provocatively titled "Linearity is Hell: Achieving Truly Dynamic Stories in Games," explored the possibility of truly dynamic storytelling in games and how a system like that might be designed. Stern did acknowledge that this was more of a theoretical talk and that he has no claim to a solution for this; rather, he was hoping to express his understanding of what such a system might entail.

He began by describing the well-known problem of combinatorial explosiveness that typically characterizes systems that try to accomodate branching storylines, and proceeded to offer that one solution to this would be "story generativity", or a system that generates story nodes on the fly (akin to "procedural storytelling"), which would be capable of providing players with the Big Three game elements we seem to most covet: freedom, well-formed story, and agency; whereas most games these days are typically able to provide at most two of those three.

Without going into too much detail here, he related this type of system most closely with improvisational theater, and the Oz Project in particular, where improv actors received direction through headsets for a single independent participant. The idea for a dynamic storytelling game, generally speaking, is to accomplish something similar through the creation of behaviors for NPCs which help direct and guide them through a narrative scene, encompassing such things as motivations, goals, dynamics, and dialog.

Interestingly, Stern briefly discussed what he called a "calculus" for NPC dynamics, which comprised defining different narrative states to track, and then using various approaches to compute the narrative state; for instance, with a narrative state of romantic interest, the idea is to use a calculus (fuzzy, algebraic, statistical, etc.) to evaluate things like flirtations, responses to NPC advances, tone and language of the player, and so on. It immediately brough to mind some of the approaches embraced by Chris Crawford, specifically the use of mathematics and algorithms for different aspects of character appraisal and storytelling, so perhaps there are some similarities there.

He did acknowledge that the type of system he described would be more adept at generating sequences rather than sentences, and in that respect the system would probably not be generative enough to be a true end product. But to me it seemed that the real challenge is precisely in going from structure to presentation; that is, while the mechanics of creating and manipulating the components of story, including character motivations and behaviors in response to (or in lieu of) player actions, do appear to have features amenable to mathematical or algorithmic control, it's the process of taking the product of those calculations and algorithms and working them into a coherent narrative where the true challenges lie ahead. And I would propose that this final step, the delivery of the story, is where much of the art of storytelling exists -- stories can easily be broken down to reveal their components and structure, but the presentation of that structure is dependent on the skill of the storyteller. Can that ever be done procedurally? In a way that is artistic and moving?

I'm reminded again of Crawford, this time of the product of his work on the Storytron, after playing a bit with the online demo of Balance of Power: 21st Century. There's much I could write about the system, and it's clear a massive amount of work has gone into the modeling and implementation of relationships and character interactions -- certainly a significant accomplishment. I don't know Crawford's intentions for the system beyond BoP:21K, or whether future storygames (like the one in progress by his colleague, Laura Mixon) will look or play differently, so I could be off base; right now, though, the presentation has the look and feel of a basic story structure and its components, with none of the crucial dressing of language and style that an author provides. That is to say, the storygame is plenty of substance without any style. Does this work? Perhaps for others, not so much for me. Could it be more? I'm not sure.

The discussion that followed the talk was spirited and entertaining. Points raised included how a system like this could incorporate certain issues with language, writing style, and humor, which are notoriously difficult to reproduce procedurally. Others noted that the system he described sounds like something better suited to drama management than actual end-dialog or behavior generation, and that perhaps it matters more how the story is delivered rather than constructed. Stern argued that this type of system does not have to entirely remove the author's voice from the output, and that he sees it as more of a 50/50 relationship. I think the system is still too theoretical to be able to envision that myself.

I guess it really comes down to the question of what we really want from the stories in our games, and which we find more influential: substance, or style? Personally, I think both play an important role, but it's still too difficult to imagine a system that can procedurally handle both with equal skill.

It's fair to say, though, that Stern's talk was accepted by the speaker and audience as mostly hypothesis, with the intention of stimulating discussion and debate. And in that sense, I think the talk succeeded far better than most at the conference. Plenty of people stayed behind afterward to continue the discussion, and it's likely to continue even longer on e-mail discussions and blogs. And it made for a very entertaining and enjoyable experience.

More to come later on the rest of Day Three as I get back in the swing of things.

Day One (at the AGDC)

It was an entertaining first day at the AGDC. It's certainly more fun listening to talks about interactive storytelling, cinematic design, and writing characters in games than it is listening to talks about pharmaceuticals and obscure research findings.

As expected, Chris Crawford's talk was, to a large extent, a rehash of material that I believe he has presented previously. Still, seeing it in person, particularly with his entertaining delivery, was worth it. His talk was titled "15 Conceptual Shifts: Moving From Games to Interactive Storytelling," and it reviewed many of the points he has tried to make over the years -- among other things: stories are about people, not things; the importance of interactivity; and the role of verbs as opposed to nouns. And, of course, the last few concepts dealt largely with his Storytron project, although unfortunately he did not provide a demonstration.

Much of this is material from his book , and there didn't seem to be any radical new concepts introduced in the talk. I will say that I hadn't previously heard him refer to the ideal interface as a "linguistic user interface" or LUI, which sounds like it could be the right approach. He also re-emphasized his distaste for graphics, plot, and spatial relationships -- points that, I think, have some merit, although his inflexibility is curious and, in some ways, probably counter-productive. Still, I enjoyed the presentation, and regardless of your acceptance of his views I think everyone with an interest in interactive storytelling should hear him speak in person at least once.

The presentation also included a portion given by one of his colleagues, Laura Mixon, a science fiction writer who is authoring one of the first Storytron storyworlds. She gave the "storyteller's perspective" on interactive storytelling, discussing things like the components of story and storytelling, and some of the key elements to interactivity in the context of a storyworld. I thought it was good to hear a few words about Storytron from someone other than Crawford, although I can't say I took away very much from the talk, and she did not demo the storyworld she is working on. Then again, she did make reference to the movie "The Red Violin," which is never bad in my book.

After the talk there was a brief, informal Q&A session with Crawford. I didn't know he would be speaking at AGDC, so I didn't have time to prepare any good questions beforehand, but I had to bring up the subject of interactive fiction. So I mentioned how I had read his book a while back and, although I recognized his disapproval of IF, I didn't feel like his explanation was sufficiently convincing, given some of the very sophisticated works that have been produced over the past few years. Suffice it to say that I don't think he was prepared to give an answer -- he just referred to the primitive nature of IF as a medium, which to me only reflected the fact that he likely hasn't kept up with the field.

Although he did not provide a demo of Storytron, he did briefly show the website and described how one of the storyworlds, Balance of Power: 21st Century, is currently playable. I checked it out briefly. There's a lot that could be said about it, so perhaps I'll leave that to another post. I'll just say that, although I can see some of the sophistication that is possible, the system could still use some major work.

I went to a few other talks, mostly centered around interactive storytelling, writing, and design, and although there were some interesting viewpoints and entertaining presentations, there was little in the way of new groundbreaking material.

I will say this, though: I had great anticipation for the last talk of the day that I attended, which was titled "Galatea 3.0: Designing and Writing Great Game Characters" and given by Tom Abernathy of Microsoft Game Studios. I applaud Tom for placing such enormous emphasis on character design and development in games and for preaching and teaching this point in such detail -- it's a lesson that most game designers would be wise to learn. But seriously: can you really have a lecture titled "Galatea 3.0" about great game characters, and not once mention what is widely perceived as one of the groundbreaking interactive fiction games of the past decade by the same name, precisely because of its outstanding game character?

Conversation: They're All Talking (About It)

I guess conversation is where it's at these days. Recently I began a series of blogs on conversation mechanics and how interactive fiction games can perhaps show the mainstream game industry how to do better dialogue (starting here, continuing here, and most recently here). Others have also recently jumped in on the action.

Over on Gamasutra, an article written by Brent Ellison popped up not long ago to define dialog systems because, as he says, "very little literature has addressed the mechanics behind character interaction in games."

Ellison essentially covers the basic mechanics of different dialogue systems in games, including branching and non-branching dialogue, hub-and-spokes dialogue, and even parser-driven dialogue. He does a fair enough job of summarizing the more common systems, although he seems to focus primarily on interface and doesn't quite venture into the more interesting territory of the mechanics required to produce smooth, immersive, dynamic dialogue. It's more of a top-level view, which is fine, but I'd really like to see more people talking about how to make dialogue better through more carefully designed mechanics. It's kind of like describing Galatea as simply an example of an ASK/TELL dialogue system, without getting into the finer details under the hood that make the game shine.

Speaking of which, I found it especially disappointing that his description of parser-driven systems never made any mention of interactive fiction; his only two examples of this type of system were Eliza and Façade. It's fair enough to discuss Eliza as a pioneering example of parser-driven interaction, but Façade, while a fascinating experiment, did not exactly come across as a shining example of the power of parser-driven input. I found Façade to be a success in many aspects, although the parser was not one of them. It's unfortunate that Ellison failed to mention any of the great examples of dialogue in interactive fiction in an article like this since, as I've said, I think a lot of mainstream games could learn some important lessons about conversation from IF.

Around the same time, over on the Iron Tower Studio forum, Vince D. Weller tossed some ideas around with Gareth Fouche and came up with an interesting post that summarized dialogue systems in RPG games (thanks to Scorpia for pointing it out). It starts out with a nod to the adventure game genre (its current 'comatose husk' notwithstanding) and the use of keyword (or topic-based) interaction, and proceeding from there to describe typical dialogue tree structure. What's nice about the post is that he goes into some detail about the strengths and weaknesses of the different approaches, including a familiar discussion about the different shortcomings of topic-based and dialogue tree systems. He also includes a mention of a system that incorporates expressive tone with keywords, such as was tried with the game Daggerfall (which I have not played). Although it sounds like it did not fully succeed at this, it is interesting how this mirrors the approach used in some IF games, like Adam Cadre’s Varicella from 1999. Although it would have been nice to see some cross-genre discussion, it was nevertheless a nice discussion of dialogue as it relates specifically to the RPG genre. With some additional research, it would make a nice complement to the Gamasutra article.

Dialogue systems are an interesting aspect of computer games that, for the most part, use similar interfaces and follow similar mechanics across different genres. I think developers and players are beginning to long for systems that produce more dynamic, nuanced conversations, and yet IF is a genre that continues to be largely overlooked. Although the adventure game genre (and IF in particular) is perhaps not what it used to be, I wouldn't quite call it "comatose", as there are still some creative authors out there making games that push boundaries and test new systems. Some work well and some don't. One of the main reasons for this series of blogs is to explore some of those experiments in IF, including how authors have taken the basic systems and tinkered with them to generate more dynamic conversations that flow smoothly and account for changing context. These systems can easily work in genres outside of IF, as long as the skill and effort are there.

Conversation Sophistication

I used to think that the only way we will see good, satisfying conversations in games is if some developer comes up with a combination of a highly advanced parser, capable of accepting a broad range of user input, and sophisticated AI code that can dynamically respond to this input. However, a more careful examination of some recent interactive fiction games has led me to believe that most of the tools already exist, and that what's really needed are skill and patience. Skill to write well and to construct systems that account for dynamically changing conditions, and the patience required to do so.

Last time out, I discussed the conversation system used in Emily Short's Galatea, a game that focuses on a single conversation with an NPC using a modified ASK/TELL topic-based conversation system which handles mood, flow, and context in a fairly sophisticated fashion. While the resulting conversation has a nice structure to it, there are still some limitations to the system, notably the inability of the player to choose the specific aspect of the topic to discuss, and the distinct one-sidedness of conversations that resembles an interview more than an exchange. Given the quality of the game and the writing, though, I think most people are able to look past these limitations and appreciate the achievement.

Addressing these limitations, though, is a complicated matter. How do you allow players to ask more specific questions of NPCs, and how do you allow players to answer questions from NPCs, given the broad range of player input that this invites? The primary answer with many non-interactive fiction games (as well as some IF games) is to control input through multiple choice selections. It's a method that spans nearly all genres, from old LucasArts adventures to BioWare RPGs to first-person shooters like Deus Ex and beyond, and for the most part players of these games seem to be satisfied with this approach. But often the implementation (at least to me) just doesn't satisfy as a conversation, coming across as perhaps too simple and algorithmic with little dynamics or appreciation for changing context.

An interesting example of a piece that combines elements of different systems is Short's Pytho's Mask, a game that is more extensive than her previous Galatea but which still focuses on conversations between the player and the various NPCs. It was a finalist in many categories in the 2001 XYZZY Awards and won for Best NPCs, which I think is an exellent reflection of the synergy between the writing and the unique conversation system.

I think it also bears mentioning that this game's "Order of the Phoenix" pre-dates the Harry Potter incarnation by three years. There. That's out of the way.

In Pytho's Mask, the conversation system is topic-based, although it is not triggered by the usual ASK/TELL commands; instead, the TOPIC command is used to initiate discussion about a particular topic of interest. However, instead of the player-character then asking a single pre-determined question about that topic, the player is instead presented with multiple-choice options of questions or comments related to that topic. So for instance, if the player types >TOPIC PRINCE, a menu might appear with three options: "How long have you known the prince?", "You are close to the Prince?", and "Any idea where the Prince is?"

The system is also designed to handle answers to questions presented to the player by NPCs, which provides more of an opportunity for back-and-forth conversation. The end result is effective, although I would have liked to see a bit more of this than was implemented in the end -- unless I missed a number of exchanges. Still, the presence of both questions and answers made the conversations feel much more natural.

Of course, there are some minor aspects of the implementation that perhaps did not work quite that well. Some conversations proceed with the multiple-choice system even though only one choice is available; while this has the effect of allowing the player the option of not asking the available question if so preferred, the player must give the one available response when it occurs during one of the back-and-forth exchanges. The result is that it provides what amounts to a brief pause in the conversation, and it ends up feeling very similar to the classic TALK TO system. Which is not to imply that it is bad -- it just left me on occasion with the sense that the conversation didn't fully take advantage of the system used.

There are also situations where topics are brought up and multiple question options are listed, but they are often not exclusive (i.e., asking one does not eliminate the possibility of asking the others). So you end up with a list of questions that you know you're going to flip through one-by-one just to make sure you don't miss any important information, and that ends up feeling a bit like a chore.

On the surface, this type of conversation system is a nice idea, and it's actually very close to a system I had thought about implementing a while back. But as with Galatea, Short's implementation really shines because of her attention to detail under the surface, which helps it achieve more of its real potential for generating smooth, natural conversations that account for dynamic complexity and context.

As Short describes in her article on conversation systems, Pytho's Mask fiddles with the underlying conversation mechanics just enough to produce choices and output that fit together and flow smoothly. For instance, player input options are marked when used so they don't get repeated later on, unless it is desirable to allow it -- and in those cases, often the option is different the first time it is displayed than on subsequent displays. Player inputs can also have the effect of changing the topic of the conversation, such that the conversation options for the new topic are displayed after the previous one is processed, producing a sort of branching structure. Player inputs can also affect the emotion of the NPC, which can modify the conversation options that follow. Finally, the same topic can bring up different input choices depending on the context, such as the point in the narrative, the topics that have been addressed previously, and the actions that the player has previously performed.

Pytho's Mask, of course, is a conversation-based game that relies on smooth, dynamic, contextually appropriate conversations to be successful and satisfying, so it stands to reason that for a game like this one, the effort put into the conversation mechanics is worthwhile. But even if a game doesn't necessarily focus heavily on conversation, I have to think that the implementation of a more sophisticated system like this can only enhance the playing experience. It takes a lot of effort, sure -- but as I've said before, if developers put the same effort into conversation mechanics that they put into graphics and physics technology, we might just have some mainstream games that are a lot more interesting to play. The tools are there, all it takes is creativity and a bit of skill and patience.

A Conversation with a Work of Art

Simulating true conversations in a computer game is tough stuff. We're still some way away from effectively applying computational linguistics to game playing in a way that allows a wide range of natural language input, and I'm not even sure that's an entirely desirable goal given the enormous complexity that this would introduce into game design. So for now the general approach is to restrict the range and format of player input using a system that is easily interpreted and applied, such as a "click to talk" or multiple choice dialogue tree system.

The question, however, is this: when you play a game that implements conversation, do you feel that playing through the conversation contributes in any way to gameplay? Or does the conversation feel like more of an afterthought that requires little attention or skill on the part of the player (or the developer, for that matter)?

The answer, I think, largely has to do with the goal of conversation in the game. It can be a method of providing character or game backstory, or maybe a break in the action to advance the storyline. It is also used to present the player with a choice, such as a side quest or a broad game pathway. But more often than not, the conversation is brief and shallow, without requiring a great deal of thought from the player, and without considerable effort put into things like conversation flow, structure, or context. For the most part, given the limited role of conversation in the game, these things are unnecessary and not worth the added developmental effort.

Conversation doesn't have to be limited to these kinds of functions, however. In many interactive fiction games, conversation takes on a much larger role: it directs the narrative; it offers challenges to the player; it contributes to deeper character development -- within player and non-player characters and between them. Conversation might not be nearly as much fun as actions requiring fast-twitch hand-eye coordination which are rewarded with explosions and rag-doll physics, but I have to believe that there are some methods and mechanics in IF games that could translate to non-IF games to enhance the experience, so why not conversation?

I think any discussion of conversation in games, using IF as a foundation, would have to start with Emily Short's Galatea. Of all the IF games of the past decade or so, Galatea is, I would guess, the one most played by people who would not identify themselves as IF players, perhaps because of its visibility and renown. But interestingly, it is also one of the only games I know that consists entirely of a conversation, one that takes place between the player and the one non-player character in a single room.

It's a deceptively simple construct for a game which does an excellent job of hiding the sophisticated mechanics underneath.

Galatea primarily uses the traditional ASK/TELL system for conversation with the NPC, although the majority of the time is spent ASKing rather than TELLing. Because ASK HER ABOUT and TELL HER ABOUT can be shortened to A and T, respectively, most of the player's efforts are essentially thinking up and entering topic words to discuss. Other occasional interactions are allowed, such as HELLO and GOODBYE, which are interesting inclusions; while they do help newer players get started into the game, they also represent direct statements to the NPC (as opposed to commands for the player-character), which might throw off some players into expecting other direct statements to work. Nevertheless, the basics of the ASK/TELL system are familiar to most current IF players and are not difficult, I expect, for newer players to pick up, which is one reason why I think this game succeeds in attracting a broad audience.

Still, if the game consisted only of the basic ASK/TELL system, even with its impressive range of topics to discuss, it would likely fail to keep players interested for long.

Where Galatea succeeds is in Short's dogged attention to the underlying mechanics of the conversation. The NPC in this case is not your typical information vending machine which spits out its one preprogrammed response to each topic. Here Short has taken into account things like mood, flow, and context, such that the same question about one particular topic has a different effect and response depending on the current established relationship with the NPC, what questions were just asked immediately prior, and what topics had already been discussed to that point. It's a mechanic that sounds entirely logical to a normal conversation but one that is rarely attempted in games, probably due to the complexity of design.

But does creating complexity of conversation such as this really come across as far more daunting a task than the prospect of creating hyper-realistic graphics and physics systems?

As a very simple example, in the game you note that the NPC--a statue that has become animated--moves as though she is breathing. If you ask her about her breathing, she will tell you that she taught herself to breathe, and although not necessary she does so because it is soothing. Later on, if you then ask her about sleeping, the question (not the answer, but the question from your player character) is then worded: "And do you have to sleep? Or did you teach yourself, the way you taught yourself to breathe?" But if you hadn't previously asked about breathing, the question is worded only: "So do you sleep?"

The effect on the narrative, in this case, is quite minor. But there is an elegance to it, a quality that makes the conversational narrative flow more smoothly and naturally and that shows that the game isn't merely spitting out canned text but rather is constructing context-sensitive and appropriate responses that give the impression that the game is reacting dynamically to what the player is doing and has done.

The mechanics, of course, extend far beyond decorative adaptations.

In her essay on conversation systems in IF, Short describes Galatea's system as "topic quips with mood tracking and quip-tagging," where quips are the actual snippets of dialogue used in the game. So here we have single topic quips like with most ASK/TELL systems (one predetermined player character snippet for each ASK or TELL command, instead of multiple-choice options), but she includes quip-tagging, so that once quips are used they are not repeated. In addition, some quips can be used only after other quips; in fact, the same command (e.g., ASK HER ABOUT THE ARTIST) can produce different player quips and NPC responses depending on what other topics had been discussed previously.

Mood tracking is also fascinating, in that the mood of the NPC is tracked and changes in response to certain questions and answers, which can then impact responses to subsequent questions later on. The NPC's mood is also reflected in different ways, including gestures, expressions, and tones of voice, and the system was apparently designed to accomodate these dynamically into the text of the response.

There are, of course, some limitations of this type of conversation system. As mentioned in a previous blog, the ASK/TELL topic quip system can be frustrating at times, because the player is only allowed to specify the topic of discussion rather than the specific aspect of the topic to discuss; ASK HER ABOUT THE ARTIST is an extremely broad command that could result in asking her what the artist's name is, what he looks like, or what her relationship with him is like. Generally, Galatea does a nice job keeping the questions within the current context, but there remains a degree of helplessness on the part of the player.

Another limitation is that conversations with this type of system are notoriously one-sided; the NPC in Galatea is almost entirely reactive, rather than active. This makes the resulting conversation seem only like an interview, with the player asking one question after another, but therein lies one of the difficulties of designing a conversation with a system that uses topic quips rather than multiple-choice dialogue trees: how can we easily allow the player to answer questions, in addition to asking them?

Nevertheless, this game is a notable achievement that allows players to have a conversation with an NPC that reads like, and has the feel of, a very dynamic, responsive interaction with a character that is far more three-dimensional than any character from a mainstream game. The amount of effort that Short must have put into this is frightening, although since the source code was never released, most of this is based on interpretations and assumptions in addition to her writings. Still, with all of the effort and money already put into various complicated aspects of mainstream, AAA-quality games these days, I have to wonder: what might a team of Shorts create with a AAA engine, a fistful of investment capital, and a couple years worth of effort, just by utilizing some of the basic mechanics that already exist in games like Galatea?

Conversations with NPCs

As Corvus Elrod likes to say, compelling stories arise primarily from the relationships between characters. Although these relationships can be generated or expressed in different ways, I think it's fair to say that conversation is probably the most obvious and frequently used method in games. Yet it's interesting to note that conversation systems in games are fairly rudimentary and, in many cases, pretty unsatisfying.

There are many reasons for that, of course; human conversation can be horrifically complicated to deconstruct, and dynamically generating realistic and meaningful conversation with computer-controlled characters is still years away, especially when you factor audio into the equation. As a result, most conversation systems in games are simplistic representations that often follow tight scripts and leave little room for exploration, which is probably fine with most developers; it's difficult and time-consuming to create sophisticated interactive conversation, particularly without forcing players to use text-based input, and most text entry in mainstream games was abandoned some time ago. In the end, conversation is typically an insignificant component of gameplay, demanding barely more thought from players than a cutscene might.

I don't have nearly the range of experience with games that many other people have, but I would venture to say that the conversation systems in most graphical, mainstream games fall under one of two general classes:

1. Click to speak. The simplest system, where you just click on an NPC or hit a single key to trigger conversation. The player typically has no control over the topic of conversation or what the player character says, generally or specifically.

2. Multiple choice dialog trees. Players select from a limited list of speech options, which helps direct the conversation to some extent.

I'm sure there are mainstream games with variations on these that I've missed or forgotten, but they are less common. Nevertheless, I have yet to see a conversation system in a graphical, mainstream game that is particularly satisfying. Most games that use #1 generally are just using conversation as a means of advancing a storyline, without really incorporating conversation into gameplay in any significant way. Systems related to #2 do at least involve some thoughtful input on the part of the player, and because the choices presented are often specific player quotations, the resulting conversation can seem much more natural while also providing some degree of characterization for the player character. On the other hand, this type of system also encourages a "lawnmower" approach of trying all options, even if it requires re-initiating the conversation or using the save/restore approaches. There is thus little consequence to making those choices, especially if the different conversation branches just lead to the same end point anyway, as is often the case.

It's probably clear to readers here that I think interactive fiction has a leg up on other game genres in many areas, and conversation is one of those areas. But why is that? Is it because the medium has more conversation tools at its disposal? Is it because text-based input (and output) allows a greater range of conversation possibilities?

I don't necessarily think so.

A while back Emily Short created what is essentially the seminal piece on conversation systems in IF, and there's little reason to rehash what she so comprehensively covered. For those not as familiar with IF or her essay, I'll just summarize the most common IF conversation systems, which mirror those mentioned above in graphical games. The three most common are:

1. TALK. Players just type TALK TO to initiate conversation with the character, which generally results in a single back-and-forth exchange with the NPC (though sometimes more, and sometimes less). Not unlike system #1 above for graphical games, where the player just clicks on an NPC to trigger conversation without any say in what is discussed.

2. Topic-based conversation. The most common form is the ASK/TELL system, where players type ASK ABOUT , or TELL ABOUT . Here, players can direct the conversation by specifying which topic to discuss. In many iterations, players are not prompted with specific topics to choose from, which forces them to think about which topics might be fertile to discuss. Alternatively, some games use a variation on this approach, where conversation topics are highlighted in the text, and players need only type the topic itself to trigger conversation on that topic. That said, often the topics used are too broad; players may intend to ask about a specific aspect of a topic, but are compelled to rely on whatever was programmed by the author. Another issue is that NPCs often end up feeling more like information booths than living individuals, dispensing conversation like a vending machine without much of a two-way dialogue.

3. Multiple choice dialog trees. Same as mentioned earlier. Unlike with the ASK/TELL and TALK systems, players have a pretty good idea what specifically they will be saying or asking with the NPC, rather than generally. Particularly in a text game, this can provide a better degree of characterization. On the other hand, all potential choices are patent, leaving little challenge for the player, particularly if the conversation branches all lead eventually to the same end point. Also, as mentioned above, the UNDO or SAVE/RESTORE commands encourage the lawnmower approach, which can lessen player involvement and remove much of any challenge that is present.

These basic systems are not all that fundamentally different than those used in most mainstream graphical games, and within the IF realm they have their advantages and disadvantages. To me, though, there are three main reasons why I think conversation in IF generally works better than in other game genres: skill, creativity, and patience.

As I've suggested before, I think that perhaps it is a consequence of these games being created largely by writers rather than teams of programmers, designers, and artists, and I'm guessing it also has to do with the fact that most IF games are not commercial and lack the associated deadlines and budget constraints. It takes a lot of skill and time to write good conversation that creates depth for characters and their relationships, and even more to write it within a system where it is often pieced together at different points in time based on player actions. That takes a lot of planning, design, and testing. In some cases it demands some creative modification of the conversation system being used, but for the most part good, meaningful, and challenging conversation in games can be created with the tools and systems that are already out there. The more I play different IF games that have well-crafted conversation, the more I have come to realize this, and the more I believe that mainstream, graphical games can learn a lot from these implementations -- if only the developers would have any interest in it, which is to say, if only they thought that players would have any interest in it.

I also think the nature of the medium and the IF community is to encourage experimentation with different types of systems, and the result is that there have been some pretty creative solutions to what is (still) a complicated and mystifying issue. Sometimes that involves systems that combine different elements; Vespers, for instance, combines the TALK system with the ASK/TELL system, while a game like Short's Pytho's Mask combines topic-based conversation with multiple choice dialog trees. But often there is more that is designed under the hood, so to speak, in order to generate conversations that flow smoothly and are consistent with the events of the game regardless of the player's prior actions.

Over time, I'll try to review some of the games that I think do well at implementing conversation, with a focus on the mechanics, but also with a focus on the question of whether conversation systems like these could have a role in the more mainstream, graphical games industry. In the meantime, I'd be interested to hear if there are any mainstream games that people have encountered in the past that they felt utilized an effective conversation system.

Totally Unbelievable Characters

While following the recent threads on RAIF (rec.arts.int-fiction) "Defining the Newbie" and "Expanding the IF Audience/Community", I found myself most interested in these comments, in light of the recent blogs about characters as the focus of games:

Jimmy Maher:
"People love stories, and many will get excited by the idea of getting plunked down into the middle of a good one."

Jeff Nyman:
"I find new people most often clamor for better and more engaging stories that actually keep them interested in what the heck is going on. Or asking for characters that actually seem like they play a part in the story rather than just being another 'thing.'"

Blank:
"Stories are about *characters*. The thing that IF does least well is representing characters in the fictional world. Doubtless you've already read all the threads about npc characterisation so I won't recapitulate all that except to say that I believe that if we were able to implement strong AI tomorrow it wouldn't mean that we'd be able to tell better stories, because the presence of an AI in the world would be the representation of an artificial /person/, and characters are not people. Characters are fictional simplifications of people constructed for a dramatic purpose. This is what gives me hope that IF can surmount the hurdle of presenting convincing characters and so come good on the 'Fiction' bit of IF."

Jim Aikin:
"I think good coding can help a lot in creating realistic NPCs. Using the T3 StopEventList class, you can give an NPC a series of responses to each single topic, ending with something like, "I've already told you everything I know about that. Can't you see I'm busy?" (And even that response can include random variations.) Other techniques, such as giving the NPC AgendaItems to execute and various ActorStates in which they may respond differently to the same topics, are also easily achieved. It's just a lot of work, that's all."

Jeff Nyman:
"People liked the idea of having to work information out of people, like NPCs that would help further flesh out the story situation and what was going on. They felt there could be more work here in terms of making the NPCs not just machines that regurgitate information with the "press of the right button" (i.e., ask the right thing or select the right menu choice). It was felt that NPCs could be given a life of their own, so to speak. Not in the context of making them wander around "intelligently" -- but rather the potential for having their own motives and desires, often very much in conflict with that of the player/protagonist. Further, the actions taken by the player -- cumulatively -- would determine how the NPCs responded in the story. There weren't many techniques seen like this, but people felt that if it existed, it would be engaging and challenging."

I happen to agree that stories are about characters, and it seems to me that games in general have done a fairly poor job in the character department. As I've mentioned before, I think IF has done better overall than other types of game, but it's still a pleasant surprise to find a work of IF that is truly centered around characters, their emotions, their struggles, and their relationships -- at least, in a meaningful and/or powerful way. Yet, with most traditional media like literature, theater, and film, there doesn't appear to be that same issue.

As Maher states, we love stories, and I think a lot of people like the ability to be part of a story. So it would seem that the important thing is to figure out how to make those stories in IF (and games in general) center around characters and character interaction rather than object manipulation.

So what's the problem?

Of course, good writing skills are essential -- as Aikin stated elsewhere, "With rare exceptions, the IF I've attempted to wade through reads, at best, like the amateur stories submitted to critters.org." Or, as Maher has said in one of his comments here, "We don't see many interesting PCs or NPCs, but that's more down to the fact most videogame writers have yet to achieve the basic competence of the average Star Wars novel author."

Still, there are a number of skilled IF authors that do very good jobs of creating PCs and NPCs with some depth and humanity, and yet there seems to remain a sizable gap between the current state of characters and character interaction and the goal above that some of us would like to see.

There was another excellent thread recently on RAIF that I found fascinating, one titled "The Totally Unbelievable Game", in which Aikin asked:

Someone has recently released a Totally Unbelievable Game (text-based, of course). Word on the street has reached fever pitch, and the servers are chugging trying to keep up with the download requests. My question is: What are the features of this game?

This is the type of awesome question I truly believe needs to be asked more often about...well, about practically everything, but certainly with games. It's the kind of question that establishes far-reaching goals and sets the bar unreasonably high. But to me, that's what we all should be striving for: that which is unreasonable and seemingly out of reach. Enough small steps and what was once completely unreasonable may one day become entirely reasonable.

I found it surprising that none of the responses included a mention of something along the lines of "Convincing NPCs with independent emotions and motivations" or "a more satisfying method of interaction with NPCs". I'm not sure why that is. (Of course, I didn't respond myself. Why? Who knows. Shame on me.)

In terms of conversation, one of the important things pointed out in that, and other, threads is that this type of evolution does not -- and, perhaps more importantly, should not -- imply that we need significant improvements to parsers. A parser that can accept any kind of input from the player is certainly unreasonable, but so too is the creation of a game that can even dream of handling the vast possibility of player input. It's completely unreasonable, but also not particularly desirable.

What, then? Are we really satisfied with the methods available for character interaction? The persistent debate about dialog systems, with some on the side of IF's ASK/TELL/TALK TO system and others who prefer dialog menus and trees, has persisted for good reason: neither really seems to get the job done in a truly satisfying way. On the one hand, players can direct the verbal action of the PC (ASK LUCCA ABOUT CONSTANTIN) but with no ability to be more specific or descriptive (ask about what in particular about Constantin?). On the other, players can ask specific questions in particular ways, but are always limited to the few options that the author makes available (what if I want to talk about something else?), and the menu structure can come across as too revealing. There are, of course, other options for conversation systems, as Emily Short has compiled, but it could be argued that the two mentioned above are the two most popular (in IF, at least) for a reason.

And, of course, the above really only deals with mechanism of conversation; there are other forms of interaction and character responsiveness that lie outside this domain but are similarly underdeveloped. Is it all just a matter of exhaustive hard coding? Or do we really need some significant evolution in how characters and interaction is largely implemented?

Maybe it is the right question to ask: what would we imagine Totally Unbelievable Characters in a game to be like?

Stan the Absentminded Kleptomaniac Journalist

It was a quiet Saturday evening, and since you had no plans, you decided to spend it with a good book on the sofa and a little classical music on the radio. You had just settled in when you heard a knock on the front door. It was your friend Stan. You hadn't seen him in a while, so it was nice to have him drop by without notice. You invited him in, and he obliged.

Oddly, Stan started scanning the foyer, taking it all in like he had never seen it before. He seemed to take particular notice of all the things there -- the ficus tree, the impressionist painting on the wall, the coat closet. That seemed a little strange to you, but the feeling soon passed. You invited him into the kitchen for something to drink.

When you reached the kitchen, you noticed Stan had not followed. You looked back and saw him still in the foyer. He took a moment to view the nice painting, and then, quite unexpectedly, he lifted the painting to look at the blank wall underneath. After replacing it, he then went to the closet and opened the door, scanning the coats and shoes you kept there. He spent a moment rummaging inside, and then quietly closed the door. Then, oddly, he began poking at the soil and dead leaves at the base of the ficus tree, almost expecting to find something there. When he finished, he took a minute to check all of his pockets, but all he seemed to have were his keys. Finally, he scanned the room once more, almost as if he temporarily forgot where he was. He spotted you waiting in the kitchen, so he apologized and joined you there.

Once in the kitchen, he did that odd scanning thing again, looking all around at everything. It was like he had never been in any kitchen before, much less yours. You went to the refrigerator to get him a glass of iced tea, and as you started pouring it, you noticed Stan out of the corner of your eye fingering the can opener you had left on the counter top. He quietly slipped it into his pocket.

"Did you need a can opener, Stan?" you delicately asked, quite certain you had never borrowed one from him at some point in the past.

"Yes, thanks, I hope that's okay," he said. As you reached to hand him his glass, you noticed he had already started opening some of the cabinets and drawers, leaving each one open as he went to the next.

"Is there something you're looking for?" you asked, now a bit concerned at his actions.

"Nothing specific," he said. "Don't mind me."

He opened the drawer by the kitchen phone and found the set of keys you keep there that unlock the door to the garage. Again, he quietly slipped them into his pocket, even as you watched him do it.

"Stan, those are my keys."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll return them," he responded. "What do they unlock, by the way?"

"I don't think--"

"That's okay, I'll figure it out later." He turned back to the phone, and saw your address book sitting next to it. He started flipping through the pages, curiously interested at the names and numbers inside. Maybe he thought you weren't looking his way, but again you watched as he slipped the address book into his coat pocket.

"Stan, what gives?" you asked. "I need that book."

"I told you, don't worry. You'll get it back eventually. Good tea, by the way."

He sat down at the kitchen table, so you warily followed and sat on the opposite side. Then, unexpectedly, Stan proceeded to grill you with a long series of questions about a wide variety of topics, one after the other. It was almost as if he was checking off a list as he went. The strangest part about it was that most of the questions were about things you thought he already should have known. It was like he was interviewing you for something, like a journalist might. When he finished you realized that you never had the chance to ask him anything yourself.

After the last question, Stan quickly stood up, thanked you for the drink, and walked back to the front door. After one last scan of the foyer and another check of his pockets, he walked out. Just like that, he left, with you still sitting at the kitchen table. And strangely (or perhaps not anymore, at least), he never bothered to close the door behind him.

-----

I suspect that, to a certain degree, this is what life might be like if you were an NPC in an interactive fiction game, and your friend was the player character. We as players exhibit some odd behavior in games. We're absentminded kleptomaniac journalists. I imagine our reaction in real life to a typical player character like this would be something like the astonishment portrayed above, and yet in most games the NPCs rarely respond in an appropriate way to our actions or behaviors, and just sit there blindly accepting it all.

As the Writers Cabal Blog has asked, what kind of NPCs do we want? How about NPCs that realize what we've done? NPCs who have moods and motivations that can shift based on how we interact with them, and as a result have a significant impact on our subsequent approach? NPCs that don't just act like errand dispensers or information booths?

It takes a lot of work and skill to create characters with personality, depth, and motivations of their own. Maybe not even a lot of work and skill, but an incredible amount of work and skill. But isn't that true for everything worthwhile?

Diamonds in The Rough

Diamonds in the Rough: This month’s Blogs of the Round Table invites you to discuss character flaws, or the lack thereof, in video game characters.

I particularly like this month's round table discussion, as some of my recent blogs have been about how games really need to start focusing more on characters and character interactions. In order for that approach to be successful, the characters in games need to have some depth to them, and flaws are an excellent way of adding depth and humanity to characters. My initial reaction to the round table topic is that I can't think of many games off the top of my head that include characters with notable flaws that are somehow significant to the narrative, but I'm guessing that's for two reasons: first, I really haven't played that many games, so perhaps I've just missed them, and second (and more likely), it's a reflection of how little emphasis has been placed on characters (and characterization) as a central developmental focus of most games.

I would also say that part of the issue with characterization and the use of character flaws in games is that, in my highly unscientific and poorly backed opinion, I would guess that the majority of this technique has been used with the player character specifically, moreso than the other characters in the game. After all, there aren't very many games (aside perhaps from CRPGs) where NPCs stick around for most or all of the game. In most cases, NPCs represent only brief or superficial encounters, and there isn't much opportunity to really develop NPCs with any depth. But as far as the player character is concerned, that is probably a different story -- but in those cases, you're now dealing with that nebulous barrier between the player and the character the player is playing, which can be a tricky thing. As a result, it's difficult to convincingly introduce a true character flaw to the player character in such a way that the player is encouraged to play along with it. After all, how many people want to take actions or make decisions in a game based on a defined flaw in their character, which could result in a less-than-ideal outcome? Particularly when the emphasis in so many games is on "winning".

I will say, however, that of all the different game types, interactive fiction probably has done the best job of characterization and the use of character flaws thus far. Well-known IF gems such as The Baron, Galatea, even Varicella and Rameses (and quite assuredly many more) all manage to incorporate and deal with major and minor character flaws in both NPCs and player characters to some degree, some more successfully than others. Perhaps it is the nature of the medium, perhaps it is a consequence of these games being created largely by writers rather than teams of programmers, designers, and artists. I'm not sure, but I know I have yet to play a graphical game that deals with the nuance of character the same way that some IF games have so far been able to.

Of course, that naturally leads me to think more about Vespers. The game received a lot of recognition for the NPCs, including the "Best NPCs" award at the XYZZYs that year, and I think Jason did a great job fleshing them out -- including the player character. But even so, it's tough to identify any true character flaws that come into serious play. Constantin's short temper, Drogo's insanity -- these really come across as features more than pure flaws, and for those of you who are familiar with the game, most of the outcomes during the game are dictated not necessarily by character flaws but more from certain external forces. This also would hold true for the player character, the Abbot, although it could be argued that the setting for the beginning of the game -- the Abbot choosing to close off the monastery to the villagers -- is one of the main precipitants for the events that follow, and may be due to a flaw in the Abbot's decision-making capacity. But even then, it comes across as more of a bad choice made in desperation, not necessarily the result of a particular flaw.

This post is a response to the May ‘08 topic from Blogs of the Round Table. You can see other entries on this subject in the drop down box below, which will update automatically with each new post.