A Long Rest post-mortem


Now that A Long Rest has been out there for a few months, it feels like a good opportunity to reflect. In this post I’ll talk about the project’s background and the goals I had for it, the opinions and comments I have about the final piece and the lessons I learnt from creating it that I’ll take forward for the future.

This analysis will spoil the events of A Long Rest. You have been warned.

Background

My partner and I played Sayeth's excellent game The Saint's Tomb in early 2021. It brought us lots of joy, which was in especially short supply at the time as we UK-ers were in our fourth lockdown and I was in the home straight of writing my thesis. I loved clicking around and trying to find every possible encounter and outcome. We were especially delighted when the sequel, A Miner Problem, came out a few months later.

Playing and exploring Sayeth’s games piqued my curiosity. It touched on a longstanding passion of mine to understand rules systems and the underlying model of a thing. The games, even aside from being exciting romps in their own right, were rich and enticing without appearing inscrutable. The matter was settled: I’d have a go at making my own.

I dove enthusiastically into the deep end. I downloaded Twine, saw the Harlowe manual like a menu and thought I’d plump for one of everything. I decided that I would devise a thrilling 3rd-level adventure, in homage to the 1st- and 2nd-level stories of The Saint’s Tomb and A Miner Problem, and that it would offer a compelling, literary and very personal tale.

In short order, the ridiculousness of my overambition came clear: both in the size of the eventual gamebook and the unfounded expectations I was placing on my creative writing ability. The project needed some drastic reining in. I ditched the 3rd-level aim, sketched a new story and consciously shrank the concept down to 2nd- and then 1st-level. And, yet, the scope was still too big.

If I was going to deliver anything, then I needed to abandon the idea of making “a proper game” (whatever that means) and instead shoot for just “a proof of concept”. It now became a matter of asking myself what the most deliverable project I could conceive?

Goals

After watching Felbrigg Herriot's series on writing a gamebook, I decided that A Long Rest would have a hub-and-spoke structure. There's one central space (ultimately, the living room) from which all other encounters would be accessible.

Content-wise, I drew on my experience running, and very occasionally playing, TTRPGs. I also prevaricated enough in making A Long Rest that Sayeth brought out 5e Arena, from which I could draw influence. In then end I settled on the following objectives.

  • Must-haves:
    • an interesting combat encounter
    • a puzzle not based on words
    • some role-playing
    • character customisation
  • Nice-to-have:
    • treasure hunt/easter eggs

Opinions

I’ll evaluate my goals in turn below. Beforehand, let me underline that each feature I added to the game increases the amount of code and/or prose I had to write. I have to continually interrogate whether I think the game was better was for these additions and, if so, whether that improvement was proportionate to the time I’d spent on it.

Combat

I'll throw my hands up and admit right now: creating an interesting combat encounter for a single 1st-level character in SRD5 is tricky. Characters range from an AC 9-, 6 hp-wizard (able to be floored by a scowl let alone a stab wound) to an paladin with full plate and a warhammer (heavy-hitting, armoured to the teeth and with a reassuring capacity to lay on hands at a moment's notice). The latter are built to excel in combat, so I don't mind letting them be good in their element. But I don't want to punish the former type. I therefore felt I had to provide a monster that can go down in one hit. The fight becomes a sudden death match -- whoever hits the other first, wins. I don't think it's a very interesting tussle but, hey, this is just a proof of concept.

The other concessions I made to non-combat characters was to allow them to move, and to interact with the environment in different ways. You could run rings around the viper, confusing its ability to locate you. You can could cast floating disc and attack the viper with impunity. You can consume the mushroom clusters for some risky healing (of a sort) or you can uproot them and thereby end the combat encounter without actually having to attack.

I wanted to empower the player to make interesting choices and to approach the scenario as their character would. I think I did a mediocre job of this: really, this is a tabletop encounter artificially squished into a gamebook medium. There’s so much text to read and so many UI elements all competing for your attention.

I also invited the player to co-create the encounter by explicitly allowing them to supplement it with aspects of their own devising. But am I not contradicting myself, having just also given them lots of details to have to worry about? I think this was poorly executed. It felt glued on at the last minute – which, hand on heart, it was.

Puzzle

The circuitry puzzle in the shed is the game element I'm most torn on.

I like that it’s visual. The adventure as a whole involves a lot of reading; it’s nice to take a break from that. The slate blue is also a welcome change from the orange background I chose.

I strongly dislike that you can’t make incremental progress on the multi-stage puzzles. You can’t be 10% or 50% or 99% of the way there like you could with, say, a wordsearch or crossword or sudoku, or even the key-hunting element of the game. Your combination either works or doesn’t; that’s it, and you essentially need to brute-force your way through the combinations. Imagine I’d made a 5- or 6- stage puzzle, wouldn’t it be somewhere between a chore and a nightmare to solve?

I also strongly dislike that this is a puzzle for the player, not for the character. Your high Intelligence score will do absolutely nothing for you here.

Overall, I think the puzzle is fine at best. I’m glad it’s as brief as it is, and I wouldn’t use this again without an incredibly compelling reason.

Role-playing

By contrast, the mad-libs/story-telling element is the part of the game I'm most fond of. It encourages creativity and expressiveness, it gets the player to co-create the game, and it injects a warm, silly moment. In fact, I actually think it incentivises much more role-playing than if there'd just been some Charisma check.

For those players who struggle with words, there are defaults pre-filled so they can just click through without inputting anything themselves. For those who input words that don’t scan quite right in the final story, there’s Undo functionality to give them a second chance. (Although in the cases I’ve seen, I think the little rough edges makes that final story all the more jolly and playful). Both of these measures add to the robustness of the game element.

I’d happily use a mad-lib activity again, but I wonder whether it would work as effectively if it wasn’t disguised as child’s story, being spoken aloud by the player character?

Character customisation

It was important for me that the player be able to choose name/pronouns for their character and for their partner. It then felt natural to add this for both of the PC's children too. While it probably makes no difference to most people, I hope it's good difference to a few people. That makes it worth the headaches I had bodging the code together and adjusting sentences so that they sounded alright, no matter whether they concerned someone who's grammatically singular or neutral.

Treasure hunt

I'll admit: I bolted on the key-hunt for completionist players. It's nothing that hasn't been seen before in other games. Its inclusion was nonetheless important for me as I wanted this game to explore what we think of as adventurous.

The domestic setting, the small scale and the low stakes of the setting (climaxing I suppose in the viper fight) were meant as deliberate artistic challenges to both the planarverse-spanning fantasy operas, and also the capitalist/colonial notion of treasure, that I’ve seen elsewhere. I wanted a little story that still felt impactful, and small rewards that still meant a lot. So, with this treasure hunt, I think it benefits greatly from being an optional extra. Players who want the (ultimately a little saccharine) reward will have to have bought in to pursuing it.

Other comments

I thought it would be novel to have the player character be a parent. I thought it would push back against some old tropes if the player character was female (by default, at least). However, both at once mean you're a woman who's a caregiver while your male (by default) partner is away doing something else. That feels like it's playing in a very tired space.

Lessons

  • Add a prominent skip button to puzzles, to make game content accessible.
  • Choosing to do something makes you buy into it more.
  • Less is more: simplifying the UI reins in the number of choices presented to a player, making it clearer what to do and how to do it.
  • Accept that this is a gamebook and not a tabletop adventure; there are, and should be, limits to what the player can do.

Conclusion

On and off, it took a lot of time during 2022 to create this game, but I have learnt a lot from doing it. It's been good to realise that complexity should serve a purpose and, conversely, that simplicity can be good.

I really enjoyed building the game engine. In the future, I’d like to create something more involved and simulative, to create the feeling of some dynamic world that the player’s interacting with.

Thanks for reading. If you have any feedback you’d like to share for the game (that you haven’t already shared as a comment), then let me know below. I already have plans for a 2nd-, a 3rd- and a 4th-level adventure. Watch this space!

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