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don't name ur fav game II

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In this thread (dont name u'r fav game) some of us tossed out emotional descriptions of games, real or not. I rather enjoyed the exercise. While I was playing Battlefield 1942, I was sensing what I thought would round out the experience more, so I decided to make another one of these threads. Simply put, describe a game experience you enjoyed or would like to have in emotional terms without using game terminology. Here's my first contribution: ....... I pushed through the bushes and felt the last leaf rub across my face to see the pirate camp on the other side of the stream. I figured I would swim across and get to their ammo supply so I could take them at an advantage. I slowly moved towards the water. But the ground was too steep near the stream, and I slipped down causing causing them to hear my hard boots grinding across the gravel. I guess I should have moved on softer dirt. I heard one of them yell out in their foreign language to alert the others, and they started firing their machine guns at me. I dove away from the small dust cloud stirred up from the gravel into the clear water of the river. I stayed underwater to provide some cover for myself. Streams of bullets were whipping past me in the water, and I could hear their muffled yells and the sounds of their guns. I emerged from the other side, clambered up the hill and dove into the ammo supply. I grabbed some grenades and lobbed them at the large tent under which they were stationed. The blast ignited some of their ammunition, fracturing the tent and knocking most of them into the air, and some even went into the stream with a splash, losing their guns. I managed to pick off the stunned survivors easily. The ones in the stream were an even easier matter. I couldn't leave any alive - they might have alerted someone else to my presence. [edited by - Waverider on January 14, 2004 8:52:37 PM]

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Another game from the same time period..

We had been chasing the convoy in our Type II submarine for the last 8 hours, waiting for U-259 to arrive and aid us in the attack. An incoming radio message tells us that five destroyes are approaching the convoy, presumably to escort it the last bit. We decide to make a quick attack without U-259 before the destroyers arrive, and then dive before they knew what hit them.

We approach the convoy from behind at 12 knots (our underwater speed is only 6 knots and not enough to keep up with the convoy, so we remain surfaced). First Watch Officer and I pick our first target, a meaty tanker at 8000 tons. We enter the positional and bearing data into the target computer, and count down the distance..1000..900..800..700..600..FIRE!

We fire at the tanker with both our front torpedo tubes. We now have one torpedo left, plus anothe loaded into the aft torpedo tube. I look at the stopwatch. Fifteen seconds to impact. Ten seconds. Five. The tanker''s hull is damaged and it takes in water. The next torpedo sets it ablaze and it starts to sink. Our last torpedo is soon loaded and we set our aim at a 4000t merchant.

This time we fire from 1000 metres, the maximum range for accuracy, but accuracy isn''t all that important this time, since the ships are staying very close together. Thirty seconds to impact..twenty-five..twenty..

SPLOSH.

The escorting destroyers have snuck up behind us in the quickly fading light, while we were busy watching the burning tanker. I order a crash dive immedeately. Once we are at 50 metres, I order a 180 degree turn. We are nuking the bastards. We still have our aft torpedo left, so we''ll go under them, then pop up and fire it at them, and then dive again.

The Sound Officer almost immedeately reports sink bombs being heaved into the water. I order the Navigation Officer to take us deeper. We go to 100 metres. We hear a loud CRASH above us, then another, much loader, which shakes the boat. We risk 150 metres. The hull begins creaking from the water pressure. The Type II was never intended to go this deep.

Then comes a huge CRASH right behind us. The alarm goes off, and the damage reports flow in. "Fire in aft torpedo room!", "Battery cells broken!", "Rear hydroplanes damaged!". The engine is dead, and the hydroplanes are stuck pointing downwards. We are at 180 metres..200 metres..the hull screams under the pressure.. 220 metres..240 metres.."We are taking in water"..260.."Hull damaged!"..280..300..TCHUNK. We have hit the bottom. We are stuck in the mud.

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(I read these and I suddenly get added energy to ideas floating in my head)

The metallic tunnel slides backwards out of view behind me and I am flying free in the void of space. Laser blasts are whizzing past my ship, and I am coarsing along the hull of my carrier.

A nearby destroyer has weakened its hull, and the commander has ordered to bring it about to protect its damaged side, and to bring its remaining functioning turrets to bear on the enemy. Enough hull damage has taken place to risk losing the carrier altogether. The enemy blasts are beginning to penetrate into vital areas.

I can see a bomber group making a run on my carrier. I hit my afterburners to deal with the threats and shoot down the projectiles.

I turn about and can see the two behemoths locked in an exchange of weapons fire. If I can take out the turrets on that side of the enemy destroyer, it will give my carrier a better chance in the battle. Then I can work to disable the engines of the destroyer so it can't get away or alter its orientation.

The trouble is that the turrets are weakest only if fired at from in front of them, due to the shielding covering their tops and sides. And I need to take them out quickly. So I'm going to have to risk being in their line of fire. Hopefully my carrier will keep the operators distracted enough.


[edited by - Waverider on January 16, 2004 1:22:10 PM]

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guys, you know, that''s actually quite cool stuff you are writing there

So nice that it should be in the Writing forum, methinks


Sancte Isidore ora pro nobis !

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quote:
Original post by ahw
guys, you know, that''s actually quite cool stuff you are writing there

So nice that it should be in the Writing forum, methinks


Sancte Isidore ora pro nobis !


Define game writing and game design.

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My personal opinion: Game writing is when you''re writing the storyline of a game. Game design is when that writing is combined with ideas of an engine, conceptual art, music, and so on.

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This is a description of a prototype I'm working on at the moment. I wonder how many of you will recognise it?


I lurch into a building of some sort. It looks like a barn or something; bales of hay are stacked on a platform above me. There are various farm tools stood against the wall.

On the floor is a rotting corpse, missing a leg and half an arm. I'm quite Hungry, so I lurch over to it, drop to my knees and grab the other leg. Pulling firmly, I rip the leg off at the crotch; the ligament has rotted away, making it fairly easy to do. I rip some of the decayed flesh off the bone with my teeth and devour it.

There's not much flesh on the bone, and rotten flesh isn't very satisfying anyway, so it doesn't do much for my Hunger. Still, it might serve as bait for something fresher... throwing down the remains of the leg, I move over to the wall and pick up a large metal spade, and then move to stand waiting behind the door. I don't end up waiting long.

The squelching noises coming from the other side of the door tell me that another zombie has arrived and is walking in to inspect my bait. Slowly and quietly I sneak up behind him, and thwack him firmly on the head with the spade, killing him instantly. Quickly, before anyone else can arrive and rob me of my prize, I bend down and take the head of the fresh corpse, rip it off, crack it open, and begin feasting on the brains within...




Richard "Superpig" Fine
- saving pigs from untimely fates, and when he's not doing that, runs The Binary Refinery.
Enginuity1 | Enginuity2 | Enginuity3 | Enginuity4 | Enginuity5
ry. .ibu cy. .y'ybu. .abu ry. dy. "sy. .ubu py. .ebu ry. py. .ibu gy." fy. .ibu ny. .ebu
"Don't document your code; code your documentation." -me
"I'm not a complete idiot; parts of me are missing." -}}i{{


[edited by - Superpig on January 16, 2004 10:40:12 PM]

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Here''s an easy one to guess:

The Sanctuary lies silent. With brutal might I have cleansed it. All light turns as blood red and the very grounds of hell begin to rumble. My ally begins to tremble although he is stronger than I. A voice burns in my head that is so menacing it could be none other than the terror that rests in hell. I read a book and a portal opens. My ally does the same. We retreat to the portals in fear after catching a glimpse of the hell beast. We purchase many healing items from the local brave warriors. We clash swords with the beast for an hour before I finally deal the killing blow scoring a prize greater than anything I had ever held.


What game am I?

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quote:
Original post by Iron Eye
What game am I?
Diablo? (Some kind of hack-and-slash RPG, certainly).

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quote:
Original post by superpig
Diablo? (Some kind of hack-and-slash RPG, certainly).




Diablo II to be exact. I hope being verbose about the game of choice after your post isn''t against the rules.

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ok, guess this one...

I sneak forward, the snow making cold ice crystals on my face. I wave my hand behind me, signalling my team to get down and find cover. Slowly I creep through the wide open doorway.

It''s quite in here, all except for the hum of the turbine generators. I see six generators in formation along the room. At the far end is a doorway and a balcony above that. It''s really too quiet.

I creep forward some more and spot a guy dressed in all black up ahead. This is new, they don''t usualyl wear black. I signal to my team to group up with me and slwoly we creep closer to the man in black, when distatser! Another guy in the room sees us and opens fire. I quickly instruct the team to find cover and return fire. Before we know it, three or four guys are all around us, firing wildly at our positions. I signal my teammate to my left to circle round and create a firing position from besides a generator and the other two are to follow me.

We circle round dodging fire until we can see the foot of one of the enemy. I singal my whole team to strike. The guy on the left rushes in opening fire. The other two dart foward leaving me to pick off the scattering opponents from the shadows.

Quickly we deal with the threat and once again the room is silent but for the sounds of electricity. I check my bag - empty. All I have left are the few bullets in my AK47 and the grenade on my belt.

I signal my team to find cover as I sneak closer to the doorway and balcony. Damn! The gunfire has attracted others. I see three, maybe more on the balcony looking out over the room and closing off the route to the door. I draw my grenade, prime and throw it up onto the balcony. As it deflects off a side wall on the balcony, the enemies scatter like roaches in the light. Three buy it - I wince as one of them is catapulted groin first into the balcony rail and tumbles over the top, landing awkwardly on his head. One has got away, but a few well placed shots from my AK47 and he drops. Into the doorway and the next set of challenges...

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quote:
Original post by Waverider
quote:
Original post by ahw
guys, you know, that's actually quite cool stuff you are writing there
So nice that it should be in the Writing forum, methinks
Define game writing and game design.





I was saying that as a Good Thing, you know. It's just that the Writing forum is usually quiet enough, and since this seem to be more prose than Design that you guys are writing, I would say it would make good material for the Writing forum

Anyway, wherever it is, it's quite a nice read !


Sancte Isidore ora pro nobis !

[edited by - ahw on January 19, 2004 4:09:20 PM]

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quote:
Original post by superpig
This is a description of a prototype I''m working on at the moment. I wonder how many of you will recognise it?



Yes, that game is going to rule

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quote:
Original post by ahw
quote:
Original post by Waverider
quote:
Original post by ahw
guys, you know, that's actually quite cool stuff you are writing there
So nice that it should be in the Writing forum, methinks
Define game writing and game design.





I was saying that as a Good Thing, you know. It's just that the Writing forum is usually quiet enough, and since this seem to be more prose than Design that you guys are writing, I would say it would make good material for the Writing forum

Anyway, wherever it is, it's quite a nice read !


Sancte Isidore ora pro nobis !

[edited by - ahw on January 19, 2004 4:09:20 PM]



Ok then. I wasn't sure if it was just someone's devious way of complimenting it and then saying it belonged somewhere else. That's a common tactic of posters who want to diffuse something.

In any case, I was going to leave where it belonged in the capable hands of the moderators.


[edited by - Waverider on January 19, 2004 6:45:57 PM]

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We arrived in a harbor of the biggest city in the lands, so the local people have claimed. The pass given by the king had proved its usefulness against the captain of the ship. We arrived safely, with all our limbs remained intact.

We entered a giant gate. We noticed a plaque written on top of the gate, but we could barely read it, or perhaps we were not allowed to? The city was big indeed, and hundreds of houses stood around us. Regardless of its massive size, the city however seemed to lack its people. It seemed that everybody had closed their door on us. We knocked the doors, yet silence was their answer.

After a short walk, we all agreed that we could easily get lost without a handy map in our hands. We opened a map, our only map. A map that had been with us since The Beginning told us little about the city. Though the roads were drawn precisely, we were losing our track of where we should be heading to. "The temple" the king told us before our departure. It was harder than we expected.

The houses stood tall, taller than everything. We decided to walk on our own, heading to nowhere, hoping that the Temple would find us by itself, as if it had a mind of its own.

We heard voices to our east, a grumbling one, yet we ignored it. A far more interesting being had appeared in front of us, a citizen! We approached him. He stood still like a castle wall even though swords and armors were with us.

"Spare some change?"

There were nothing more striking to us than a citizen who asked for a change in this most populous and gigantic city. The man stood still, gave no reaction of our comings. As we decided what to do next, voices came from the south. The voices drew nearer and nearer. As we turned, three bandits armed with scimitars were heading toward us. Their faces were covered with black clothing. Their armors were heavy. They drew their scimitars and attacked us.

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It is from an old game, back in 1992.

I''d write some more. I never thought it could be this entertaining. And talking about practicing for your essay

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It's really hard to say how I got here. I was just going on a quest for my captain, seeking an item to assist against the orc hordes and the dragon armies. The whole war is centered around this one kind of magic that every group wishes to possess for themselves.

It was in the middle of this quest that I felt called to this sylvan woodland, where the Lady of the Wood welcomed me. She told me of this magic and how old it was. She possessed great wisdom, having lived among these trees and coming to know what they know. She told me of the nature of the conflict between all of the concerned groups, and cautioned me of my intent within it.

Since then I feel somewhat separate and have become much more an observer than a participant.

The Lady of the Wood awaits my return. I can only say since hearing her song and the simple sadness within, I've come to question and at the same time remember my place in all of this. I can only hope that my captain can accept what I've learned, as much as I have.

She could have called anyone to her. Why did she choose me? Do I dare think I was meant to have this wisdom, and consider the advantage it gives me over the others? Am I supposed to assemble a new circle of individuals based on it, and build our wisdom, or consider its use alone? And is this wisdom there to share with the world, or shame it?


[edited by - Waverider on January 20, 2004 7:57:54 PM]

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I think maybe this kind of stuff could be more useful than many of the non-writing posters in this thread give it credit for. Many games are of course based on storyline campaigns and if you can merge storyline with design it might be a useful way of ''proofing'' ones work.

Might sound like a bit of effort to achive but then it might be possible to combine it with the overall storyline (before your game writer or yourself does the game-writing, possibly), and use it for some critical cut-scenes or even player events. If it sounds really good then the scene and the suspence of disbelief may be increased (provided one uses the technique to enhance and fix any aspects of the design/story that doesn''t work for them).

Tell me what you think.

Oh, and before someone claims i''m trying to hijack this thread, here''s my attempt. I figure since this thread isn''t moving too fast we could use it for both discussion and prose.

-----------------------------------------------

My ion-driver pounds the ground, just a thumbnail away from it. It dodges, rolling along the ground and I can feel it. Over the pain I keep moving, driving my mind to it''s physical limit then a little further.

The floor slips from beneith me and my gun finds it''s mark, with a single round it is limping, its AI construct leering as it limps onto the wall. I hit the ceiling running along it untill the doorway finds my waist, I roll into the neighboring room.

The doorway infront of my is lit up, beyond it a black cycle flies in sliding along the last few fibers and fragments of light. The world beond it is my way out, FiberNet, an intricate web of networks connected by a brilliant cyberspace programming.

The pain is still seering through my shoulder and I can feel it closing in on my its human form grappling through the air driving itself towards me. I lift my driver one last time but it still flinches. Too fast, the matrix program is weaker here, the error correction is fewer, even the AI can feel the physics revolting.

The ground pulses and blinding sounds come blazing at me, not from the AI. Another faction, armed with nothing less than sub-machine guns. The AI does not flinch it''s construct dissapearing in a splash of glittering fragments.

The door finds itself closer to me and I see Arial shouting at me as I hit the cycle. Clinging to the saddle, I fire-up the wepons system and find the doorway, removing its connection as the Gs pull at me furiously.

Then I see it, comming up behind me, the fragments faultering. The silent lights blinding me, fading to black, only the non-colour of my console to remind me of where I am.

Arial punches deck, flinging us back into the monstrosety, as we hit the ground I can feel the assertion driving us out of existance. The rules of ancient physics modelled in every detail, my hacking code nullified as I fight the possible reality of what has happenned.

We are stuck, no way of reaching the loading program, no way to jack out, no way to recover who we were. I am stuck, the virtual world designed to enslave humanity, driven by their own creation and the disire to maintain control.

I know what we must do, however. We must continue to fight, not against the other factions but the matrix itself. Modelled for the now deceased Anexia Corperation, we must destroy the matrix and free those few who are left. Back to rebuild reality, and the mirroring cities, no longer do they share the same faces.

I stand up from the rubble grasping my driver lending my hand into the rubble, and prepare myself. We head for another connection, not to FiberNet and our loading program, however. But to the kernel and the stacks.

- An imaginary, cyberpunk inspired, FPS storyline focused game.

Sorry if that was a bit long, I''ve never been real good at keeping it short and sweet.

Lorenz (krysole) Pretterhofer
sleep, caffeine for the weak minded

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(What I notice coming out of this thread is how the different individuals enjoy experiencing video games, and the kinds of things they think about while gaming. The question is how can some of this feeling be projected into the game design so that the player feels it too, and would they be willing to accept what the designer is trying to get the game to say? I ask this because I felt movies and TV shows that I enjoyed saying things to me, and I''d like anything I make that I''m really proud of to say the same kinds of things.)

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The terrorists managed to secure a secret operations base at the edge of town, in an abandoned manufacturing facility.

I'm on my way there now. I'm almost out of missiles in my car, and I'm getting close to the bridge spanning the river.

Looks like they have an armed force waiting for me coming across the bridge.

I punch my accelerator and take a left off from the bridge. I switch to hovercraft mode, drop to the water, and skim along its surface, following the trench of the river towards the plant.

Command has informed me that there is a tunnel under the surface of the water that might get me in undetected.

Switching to sub mode. Glub. Turning on sight enhancers. There's the tunnel. And how convenient, it slants upwards. Hopefully the tunnel beyond is friendly for driving vehicles. Too bad there's a school of sharks blocking my way. They're probably trained, too. Figures.

[edited by - Waverider on January 21, 2004 11:45:57 AM]

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I had just finished schedualing my mindless peons for their duties for the next two days. I left my safehouse to wander the streets of the local industrial zone. As I walked, a quick rain began to fall. Soon it cleared and I looked out over the smokestacks and industrial yards to see the clouds outlined against the setting sun. As I listened to the passing cars and felt the brisk air circle around me, I fell in love with my country all over again. Perhaps at the end of this power stuggle there truly is something more than power and revenge. Maybe this beautiful country, with its undercurrent of depression and hopelessness can be mine, and I can save it.

Not my favorite game, but an good game, nonetheless.

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Here is a game from a perspective you might not imagine, but it will easily be recognized. What game and what part?

Soon after I breath my first breath of life the order comes to me. I soon understand what my lot in life will be this time around. I skitter over to a large pile of crystal minerals that has become my assignment. Slowly but surely, I gnaw away at the monolith of blue, glowing crystal. After my powerful mandibles process it for a while, I scoop up the stack and carry it to my birthplace.

From there, the crystal will be used to help win our war against our current enemy. I can’t remember who it is this time. It seems like it is always some one new. If it is not one of our own competing factions, then perhaps it will be the “pink skins” in the metal suits. Crunchy on the outside, chewy on the inside. It could also be one of those creatures that protects itself with invisible armor. They, like everyone else, have their weaknesses, and are even better tasting that the pink skins. We could even be facing all three at once. Always a new battle.

I savor the taste of my unseen enemies as I continue to work my pile down. On one trip back from dropping off crystals, I notice more of my brethren have been hatched to fulfill their own fate. One of them, is working on MY pile. Bastard. I look for an open pile but lines are already forming. Something must be in the works. Soon enough, I receive new orders. I am to go to the edge of our lifemass and metamorphose into that which will further our cause.

I reach the desired point and burrow into the life giving mat. There, I begin my transformation. All of the crystals I had collected flow through my veins as energy and become the base upon which I build myself. When I awaken anew, my sight extends far beyond that which I had grown accustomed. I can see much and naturally start extending the life mat to my furthest sight. I hope that they will see fit to let me mutate again. At least then I will be able to do my part to defend. Unfortunately, I feel my doom approaching before that order is given.

I strain my sight to it farthest reaches, for I know what is approaching. There is a slight tremble at my furthest reach. The pink skins approach. As I feel the tremor approach, it suddenly stops… a slight whirring noise as it plants its feet. Death has come to collect his dues.

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