by Danny | Jan 27, 2016 | Philosophy
I want to clear the air about something. I’ve done a terrible job explaining what Eastshade is like to play. Part of that is because this project has been evolving over these two years, but the bigger reason is that my familiarity with the game makes me forget to talk about important points that nobody could possibly know. Jaclyn and I have concocted a concise explanation of what the game is:
“You are a traveling painter, exploring the island of Eastshade. Capture the world on canvas using your artist’s easel. Talk to the inhabitants to learn about their lives. Make friends and help those in need. Discover mysteries and uncover secrets about the land. Surmount natural impasses to reach forgotten places. Experience how your actions impact the world around you.”
Eastshade is a non-violent game; however, it’s not a game without mechanics, progression or goals. To me, a walking sim is a game that forgoes these things and focuses solely on atmosphere. Mechanically, Eastshade is a game that gives players the space to wander. We’ve made an effort to make the world feel alive and responsive as players explore. But there is also a clear sense of direction and progression. Here is a condensed description of the things you can do in Eastshade:
Meet the Inhabitants – Interact with the locals through dynamic conversations with discoverable topics and branching dialogue.
Capture Your Surroundings – Compose paintings anywhere in the world and offer them to characters to gain items, knowledge, and unlock secrets
Find and Craft – Acquire materials and schematics to surmount obstacles.
Interweaving Micro-Stories – Actions and dialogue decisions affect future interactions and outcomes as you meet new characters.
Story wise, Eastshade is not one particular tale that we were burning to tell. In order to allow the player to live the experiences we let go of orchestrating a controlled storyline and focused on building the world at large. To that end, Eastshade is filled with many little stories; each with their own effects and consequences on the state of the world. If you love the distilled sense of place that some walking sims have, Eastshade has it for you. However, if you weren’t a fan of Dear Esther or Gone Home, it doesn’t necessarily mean you will dislike Eastshade.
Hopefully that clears things up a bit, and hopefully the new landing page does a better job of giving newcomers the gist of what the game actually is.
by Danny | May 1, 2015 | Philosophy
The title of this post is a ridiculous question to me. At the very least it should be a ridiculous question to any game designer, but I also think it should be a ridiculous question to any gamer. It appears the latter is not the case, because its a question I’ve gotten more than a few times when I try to describe what this game is to people. I suppose it makes sense, because games wherein you control a single avatar tend to be about killing enemies in one way or another, and people may not have considered how very specific that paradigm is.
I’m not saying there isn’t innovation left to be done inside that box, or that I think people should stop making these kinds of games. Combat is human, and its an engaging subject to make games about. But there are other aspects to humanity that we can explore through games. I have nothing against dude-killing games, but I do think its odd how many game designers seem to only think inside of that particular box. There are certainly many genres that typically don’t involve combat, but when I describe Eastshade as a single-player, first-person, open-world game, people usually think Role Playing Game. And everyone knows that the particular role you play in a Role Playing Game is the role of a hero. And everyone knows that heroes live primarily in worlds where 90% of the population are wandering bandits waiting to be killed.
So the question “If there is no combat how will the game be interesting?” makes the same amount of sense to me inverted: “If all you do is kill dudes how will the game be interesting?” To a person who’s played mountains of games wherein you spend most of your time killing dudes, the latter seems like a ridiculous question. When you strip away the weird box thinking part about dude-killing, the question becomes “What will make the game interesting?” which is basically asking “Will the game be good?”.
So will Eastshade be any good? The game has changed a lot from what I initially set out to make. There used to be survival mechanics, which gave people something to grab onto when trying to understand what the game is (courtesy of Minecraft). Those mechanics are gone now. So what’s left? If I said its like a first-person, open-world adventure game it wouldn’t be totally off the mark. But the state of a traditional adventure game’s world is completely dependent on the player’s state through the game. The guard won’t move from the door until you do some absurd chain of lock and key puzzles to make it happen. Eastshade goes on without you, and the feedback from the world is more systemic, predictable, and granular.
What if I put it to you like this: Eastshade is not a game that you play, but rather a place that you go. There are daily solar and lunar eclipses, the conifers are purple, much of the architecture is spherical, and the people look like monkeys. Stuff happens. Do you want to visit?
by Danny | Jul 30, 2014 | Developement Updates, Philosophy
EDIT – Much of the information pertaining to the game in this post is outdated now. The game has been evolving and its not the same as it was at the time this was written. The vitality bars have been removed. The inventory menu has been redesigned.
I’m a subscriber to the up-and-coming idea that games have potential to invoke a much broader range of emotions than what we’ve been seeing so far. Jenova Chen has pointed this out very eloquently in a number of interviews and talks. One emotion that I’m consciously trying to procure in Eastshade is safety. I think this medium is particularly suited to do this effectively, since in a game, one must overcome danger themselves, rather than sit back and watch events unfold as in a book or movie. In traditional RPGs, I love the feeling of returning to the safety of an inn after surviving a treacherous dungeon.
To effectively create that wonderful feeling of safety, there has to be some danger. While there are no hostile AI in Eastshade, the world itself is as dangerous as it is beautiful. You have to pay attention to your malady, cold, exhaustion and hunger, and as you travel, you’ll deal with “conditions” that the environment will inflict on you. Jumping in water will make you wet for some time, which makes you colder. Walking without boots in rocky tide pools will give you a deep cut, which continues to affect your Malady bar until you bandage it. The tent pictured above, safely perched on a seaside bluff, restores the players exhaustion, and the fire keeps them warm.
Of late, I’ve been working on inventory systems and GUI. On the left is your stuff and on the right are the schematics you’ve acquired (crafting recipes). At the bottom are your vitality bars. The lovely icon art is being made by my girlfriend, Jaclyn. She’s an artist as well. Our avatar is doing pretty good at the moment. On each side of the vitality bars are equipment slots. You won’t be able to equip an acorn (as indicated in the image), because I tried equipping one in real life today and it had little effect. For some reason I thought it would give me resistance to poison. Provided you’ve the schematic and the necessary materials, you’ll be able to create vehicles (a means of travel) and gear (protection from some of the “conditions” the environment will give you). Items will be sprinkled throughout the world, but the schematics will be particularly valuable, and will primarily be acquired by reaching new places. I have a novel idea for the way which rewards are delivered but for moment I don’t want to talk about it until I’ve actually tried implementing it. I will say that whatever this delivery method ends up being, it definitely won’t be a loot chest.
