I've never been more attached to a "home base" as I have been to Majula.
This is a shot from early in the game. You walk out of the dark and musty cave you started in and face the seaside town of Majula. Up until this point all the game has told you and shown you is that there is no hope for you. You wander through a dark and musty cave, filled with monsters and insane men who wear equipment that looks exactly the same as what you are wearing. It's implied that these men are the same as you, who gave up all hope shortly after their journey began. But as you exit the cave and first gaze upon Majula you are filled with this serenity, this pure feeling of contentedness that you haven't felt at all in the game thus far. And this feeling sticks with you upon each subsequent return to Majula. If it wasn't for this stark contrast between the warm sunlight and colors of Majula to the darkness and mured tones of the previous area, Things Betwixt, it's safe to say that this wouldn't feel like home as much as it does the second you first encounter it and its colorful characters.
But this is the main place we're going to talk about. The corpses burning are actually the least unsettling part!
What prompted me to write this particular article was my experience in an area called Brightstone Cove Tseldora. This is an area that comes along fairly late in the game. But it's been the area that has had the most profound effect on me in the entire series so far. When you arrive in the Cove this is the first thing you see: a deserted camp with broken scaffolding and piles of burning corpses surrounding it. Since you've spent the entirety of your game fighting creatures that seem to be some sort of soldiers in the old king Vendrick's army you pretty much expect something of that nature to come charging you. But as I explored the area around the camp what ambushed me shocked me. A lone man with a pickaxe charged me and tried to strike. I dispatched him without too much trouble but it made me come to a realization. I had not thought that any of the peasants of Drangleic had been affected by the curse of Undeath. So I traveled through the rest of the Cove, slaying the peasants that tried to cram a pickaxe into my skull, but it made me sad as I continued onward. These men had no means to fight against the Dark and it consumed them and drove them mad. Compared to the previous people I fought that actually could fight against the curse somewhat it struck me as a shame that I had to see these men in this state.
Here's the area boss. Isn't he cute?
You continue traveling through the area, eventually getting to the homes of the peasants you fought earlier, now infested with spiders. You pass a clergyman and his congregation on the way there, now undead and insane but still praying for hope. You need to kill them too. Eventually you enter what seems to be the lair of the spiders and you find this thing at the end. This is The Duke's Dear Freja, who at first seems like a hideous monster. But after you vanquish this giant two-headed spider you learn the truth. This is the Duke's pet. It attacks you, defending its lair and you are forced to slay it to progress. It's hard to say who's right in this situation but you slay it, press onward and slay the now-insane Duke because that's what you're supposed to do. The whole area's design, from enemies to building to ambient sounds, just exudes this feeling of hopelessness and compounds regret on you as the player, moreso than any other area of the game.
But why does Dark Souls II and other games evoke these feelings in players whereas others do not. There are plenty of next-gen games out there that look absolutely gorgeous: Call of Duty, Titanfall, Assassin's Creed, the list goes on. Yet when exploring these areas they lacked that special something, something that made me really appreciate that world, that area, the characters residing in it. And it's funny that Dark Souls manages to bring out those feelings considering that most of the characters aren't named and any lore about the area must be discovered through conversations and items. So why does Dark Souls succeed at this where other games with arguably prettier visuals and more named and developed characters fail? Well it's a combination of things to be sure and it's really hard to pin down.
Silent Hill 2 achieves this too. The entire time you're in this world you just feel unsettled.
Gone Home achieves this too, not only do you manage to be unsettled but the layout of the house still makes you eager to explore.
It's not all sad and somber either! Proteus' world in delightful!
So what's leading to these worlds being interesting? What's making them great to explore, terrifying, and absolutely wonderful? It's simple everyone. It's just a case of great level design.
Whenever I speak to a person about great level design they seem to take it as just a mechanical conversation. Enemy placement is well done, puzzles are spaced correctly and are challenging, that platform you need to jump to is perfectly in reach instead of being impossible to get to, etc. But people often forget that these important things are just part of great level design. If you're trying to bring the player to feel a certain emotion whether it's sadness, happiness, a sense of wonder, pure terror or anything in between there are more things than an impassable wall or a puzzle with a time limit that brings that out in the player. Lighting alone can do so many things. Entering a dark hallway after a lighted room in incredibly unsettling, while just the opposite will fill the player with a huge sense of relief. Enemy design is the same thing too. Games like Silent Hill and Fatal Frame keep you horrified when you see the monster because their design is horrifying, whereas enemies in Rayman: Origins are colorful and comical so you simply chuckle when they explode.
This is one of the huge reasons why so many indie titles are able to evoke feeling within the player. Their art, music, lightning and level design are all working in tandem to make the player feel a certain something. Call of Duty or Titanfall may make you feel pretty badass but even though the levels are pretty and the gameplay is frantic I want you to ask yourself something. Is this game really going to stick with you? Are you really going to remember or appreciate this experience? Or will you completely forget it and move on to the next big thing?
This is one of the huge reasons why so many indie titles are able to evoke feeling within the player. Their art, music, lightning and level design are all working in tandem to make the player feel a certain something. Call of Duty or Titanfall may make you feel pretty badass but even though the levels are pretty and the gameplay is frantic I want you to ask yourself something. Is this game really going to stick with you? Are you really going to remember or appreciate this experience? Or will you completely forget it and move on to the next big thing?
So readers let me ask you? What games have you played that had excellent level design? What games have you played that had a world that sucked you in and just refused to let go? What games had areas that really stuck with you and made you think or feel? Let me know in the comments and I'll see you next week.
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