Dark Forest Crow Notes - Interactive fiction, text-interactions based and roleplaying games
Showing posts with label make it good. Show all posts
Showing posts with label make it good. Show all posts

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Third attempt to play Make It Good: no bottles allowed edition

During the previous attemps, we discovered some interesting mechanics that are present in classical text-based games:

- Usual games of such type have pretty strict boundaries and rules.
- If you break the rules, you lose or stuck. In a very unnatural way sometimes.
- Some games try to 'fix typos': shoot -> shout, shot -> shit. Probably it does it based on the current game context in which there is an ability to shout, but no opportunity to shoot.
- Still it's not that flexible: some actions and replics are allowed, some not (even if it's synonyms) - dictionaries are not usually huge.
- Items can have different properties like 'description' and 'state'
- Games can track states of items (bottle was closed so I could not drink the whiskey)

And I lost the 'Make It Good' game twice because of the whiskey bottle. 

Let's try to make it good without any bottles. I start from

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15 (in the black chevy)
The boulevard through the windscreen is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. You're sat in your car, parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house. With a body inside.

The glove compartment is closed.

>> go out

(opening the black chevy first)
You open the car door.
You clamber out of the driving seat.

There'd better be some faces too: you need the slam. What did the peep at the station say? Inspector, the only case you cracked open last year was the Michaelmas liquor. He has a point. If you come up blank (or facedown in a gutter) you'll be off the payroll. And then you'd really have a problem.

Down the street there's a dog, running about.

Let's check that doggy

>> examine the doggy

>examine the doggy

-- "doggy" isn't a word I know.

Damn.

>> examine dog

The dog's somewhere else down the road. You can hear its damn yapping.

Sunlight trickles through the trees; your neck itches under the heavy coat.

>> go to the dog

The dog's somewhere else to the west along the road. You can hear its damn yapping.

>> go west

Nice houses. Your car, to the east. Down the street, some yammering dog. You're standing right by a streetlight, on the edge of the kerb.

>> go west

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 11
Nice houses. Your car, to the east. Down the street, some yammering dog.

>> go west

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 9
Nice houses. Your car, to the east.

There's a dog here, sat on his haunches, dribbling.

>> pet the dog

You pet the dog, and it rolls its eyes and dribbles in return.
The dog leaps up again.

>> examine the dog

A small, sleek white mutt mongrel thing, with a voice he seems sure proud of. No doubt the pride and joy of some old dear on the street. If you had the energy you'd hit him with your car.

>> take the dog

The dog squirms out of your grasp.

God. This was worth it. Go back, go back, go back...

>> knock the door

You knock a smart rap on the door.

After a short wait the door opens, Angela's face appears, then the rest of her. She looks just like she should considering, no time to do her face. "Yes? What do you want?" she says uncertainly.

At least now she talks with me.

>> Hello

"Well? What do you want?"

I watched some detective movies, so I know the business.

>> I am from police, can I ask you some questions?

-- I only got as far as wanting to inventory.

>> I am from police


-- I only got as far as wanting to inventory.

Game doesn't understand me sadly.

>> Examine Angela

Thirty-something, maybe forty on a bad day; Angela is housewife through and through. From her thick black ball of hair down through her one piece long dress, she's sophistication via mail-order. Sure, maybe she could be pretty, if you'd lost all your teeth and were three notches out in the belt, and she wasn't pinched and blotchy, like she is today. Yeah, today is not a day to be sizing her up, that's true enough.

>> you are pretty

-- "you" isn't a recognised verb.

Damn, game just saved my life. But, still, it seems there wont be any dialogs unless I mention some keywords. Maybe show my badge will do the trick...

>show badge
(to Angela Draginam)
"Oh, Inspector! I'm sorry.. do come in, I'm glad you came so quickly." You follow her into the house. It has a smell you recognise, all right.

Hallway
A wood-panelled hallway, with the front door to the south next to which is a dark polished roll-top desk. Stairs in the northeast corner of the room lead to the upstairs landing where the bedrooms are, and a passage northwest runs through to the kitchen and blue wallpapered living room, which you can't quite see from here.

In the lefthand corner is a hat stand. Hanging off the stand is Jack's hat.

Mrs. Draginam closes the door shut behind you.

"The man on the phone told me to make sure nothing was touched. They told me you were coming, but they said there'd be more of you." She fusses a little. "Shall I take your hat?"

Here we go! It was hard, to be honest.

>> go upstairs

You make your way upstairs around the curve of the staircase.

Upstairs Hallway, North End
A neat little corridor, running with the stairwell to the east down the length of the house. The carpet is a worn-down brown pattern; the wallpaper a lurid yellow colour, like flowers stuck in another guy's wedding cake. The closed doorway to the bedroom lies north of here, another door is open to the west; by the look of it a guest bedroom.

"The body's just in there," Angela says, pointing to the north door.

>> go bedroom door

(the master bedroom door)
(opening the master bedroom door first)
You open the door. And catch a glimpse of the corpse - a crumpled heap of dead human, nothing but the knife wounds in its back between him and you. Stabbed in the back - oh yeah, stabbed in the back.

Angela follows you in, and looks uncertainly at the body, her eyes a little cold. "I'll be in the living room if you want to ask me any questions, Inspector," she say thickly, before stepping out the room and closing the door.

Master Bedroom
The master bedroom is relatively tasteful, and dominated by the bed sticking out of the east wall. Opposite is a mirrored dresser shoved in the corner at an angle, just by the large windows overlooking the garden. These are shut tight like normal. The closed door is in the southwest - in fact, lying on the bed you could probably see it in the reflection. The carpet's beige-with-dried-bloodstain, and there's more rancid wallpapering. Between the window and the bed is a little yucca tree in a pot.

Sprawled in a messy heap, pining for attention, is Jack's corpse.

On the dresser is a green-shaded table lamp.

"Then you can meet the others," Angela calls. "There's the maid, and William Matheston, outside, in the shed. Good. Well, all right then." You hear her footsteps move off, but they don't go downstairs.

Hooray. Finally, we reached the body. Actually, it's only the beginning of the game. I'll try to continue my glorious investigation later.

Short summary:

- We finally found the body. Third attempt!
- Sadly, we couldn't talk with Angela. It's a common thing not only for this particular text-based game - NPCs are not truly NPCs. It's very strange - compelling characters and dialogs are must-have in text-based games in my opinion.
- We found a doggy. Doggy escaped :(

Cheers, DarkForestCrow.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Classical text-quest mechanics explained: second attempt to play Make It Good

Salut, guys, here we go again.

Our previous attempt was not that successful since I decided to play boozer detective who drinks whiskey at the crime scene. I lost the game after a few minutes. Let's try to play a good cop now.

So,

"Homicide. One Jack Draginam, accountant. Married, no kids. Stabbed. Yadda yadda, blah blah. We got the call from the maid - geez, who has a maid? Apparently she wanted to stress there's a lot of blood."

"Oh, Inspector. Word is, if you don't crack this one, you're out of a job."

The glove compartment is closed. Sat on the passenger seat is a whiskey bottle.

>> check the bottle

"Uncle Stan's Golden Malt"; yeah, it's bargain bin liquor at 80% proof and 80% off. Your body's crying out for it. To slip back, let the whole goddamn world ride all the way to the glass at the bottom. Oh yeah.

Let's take it

Your fingers shiver on the glass as you lift it.

Shit! Let's maybe check the house now.

A nice enough place, a nice enough area. Two storeys, maybe some attic space on top. Relatively big kitchen out back. Some of the gardens have sheds and conservatories. 

Time to examine the kitchen.

>> go kitchen

(opening the black chevy first)
You open the car door.

You clamber out of the driving seat.

Wow. I was still in a car.

Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15
The boulevard is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. Your car is parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house. With a body inside.

There'd better be some faces too: you need the slam. What did the peep at the station say? Inspector, the only case you cracked open last year was the Michaelmas liquor. He has a point. If you come up blank (or facedown in a gutter) you'll be off the payroll. And then you'd really have a problem.

Down the street there's a dog, running about.

(opening the front gate first)
The gate swings creakily.

You step into the porch.

Front Porch
A tasteful little porch; white painted wood strapped onto red-brick building. The front door is north, and through a small diamond of frosted glass you can make out nothing of the wood-panelled hallway inside. Your neck is sweating; sunlight hides behind the trees to the south.

A hanging basket with a couple of petunias in is attached just to the left of the door.

A lot of text. Thanks god, we like to read. Well, I love flowers (not as much as Nero Wolfe likes orchids but still)

>> check the petunias

The flowers are pretty limp; the basket hangs where most of the sunlight doesn't hit it.

>> check glass

Red frosted glass. On the other side you can make out someone, moving around.

Time to go inside

After a short wait the door opens, Angela's face appears, then the rest of her. She looks just like she should considering, no time to do her face. "Yes, hello? Oh - " and you follow her eyes, which have noticed the whiskey bottle in your grubby paws. "I've no time for drunks now. Goodbye." The door is slammed.

Damn bottle.

>> put the bottle on the ground

You set the bottle down carefully. Don't want to break it now.

>> go inside

You knock a smart rap on the door. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer.

>> knock-knock

-- "knock-knock" isn't a recognised verb.

Well, that's strange, game didn't recognize this simple command.

Let's try to just knock

(on the front door)

You knock a smart rap on the door. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer. Somehow, it seems like you've managed to screw up the entire investigation before even starting. Impressive.

Unlucky. I am losing again only because of that bottle. It really makes me angry.

>> knock again

(on the front door)

You knock a smart rap on the door. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer. Somehow, it seems like you've managed to screw up the entire investigation before even starting. Impressive.

It doesn't work. Maybe I can talk to Angela?

>> lady?

(--> lady)

-- "lady" isn't a recognised verb.

>> I am detective!

-- I only got as far as wanting to inventory.

>> open the door!

You knock a smart rap on the door. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer. Somehow, it seems like you've managed to screw up the entire investigation before even starting. Impressive.

Not so much freedom I have in this game...Let's show it who is the man!

>> break the door

The door's such a hard-wood that even trying to kick it down comes out as nothing but a smart little knock. Perhaps a face appears behind the red glass, but there's no answer. Somehow, it seems like you've managed to screw up the entire investigation before even starting. Impressive.

>> shoot

(--> shout)
-- You're not making any sense to me.

>> shoot the door

(--> shout the door)
(to yourself)
There is no reply.

>> shoot the girl

(--> shout the girl)
(to yourself)
There is no reply.

>> shot

(--> shit)

What? You made a mistake somewhere down the line? You knew that fifteen years ago.

So, here are the features of the game we noticed during the second attempt of playing it:

- Game has some pretty strict boundaries and rules.
- If you break the rules, you lose. In a very unnatural way sometimes.
- Game tries to 'fix typos': shoot -> shout, shot -> shit. Probably it does it based on the current game context in which there is an ability to shout, but no opportunity to shoot.
- Still it's not that flexible: knock is allowed, knock-knock isn't.
- We lost the game again because of the bottle. 

These features are very common for text based games: boundaries, rules, small dictionary. You can't do what you want and then just suffer the consequences.

Next time, I'll try to play this game without any bottles.

Cheers, DarkForestCrow.

Monday, June 20, 2016

Classical text-quest mechanics explained: first attempt to play Make It Good

I want to give a brief overview of 'how to play in usual text-quests' topic. We start with an example as - I chose Make It Good game since it contains a lot of classical text-quests mechanics examples and it's plot is detective story. You can find and play it here, although it's not that easy (at all).

As game introduction says, 


MAKE IT GOOD is a detective game. A murder has been committed at No 15 Brokentop Boulevard. A man lies dead, and unfortunately, they called you. Now either you can get the evidence together to make a conviction - or you'll be out for good.

It was under development for 7 years (wow) and is dedicated to one of the best Infocom titles: Stu Galley's Witness.

This game reminds me of Ed McBain's stories about detective Steve Carella. Let's start the game

The call comes through. Of all the dicks; you get the call, sitting in the front seat of your car, hands shaking on the steering wheel. An urgent call; but all you were thinking of was the bottle in the liquor store and so that's where you went first.

Now you're pulled up outside the house. The rear mirror's showing two steely eyes. You adjust your hat, stiffen up your collar and grab your badge off the dash. Here goes. You've one last chance to... Broken Top Boulevard, Outside No. 15 (in the black chevy) The boulevard through the windscreen is lined with ash trees, thick trunks casting shadows and gnarled roots mangling up the sidewalk. You're sat in your car, parked too high up the kerb; just outside the gate to No. 15. Just an ordinary house. With a body inside.

"Homicide. One Jack Draginam, accountant. Married, no kids. Stabbed. Yadda yadda, blah blah. We got the call from the maid - geez, who has a maid? Apparently she wanted to stress there's a lot of blood."

"Oh, Inspector. Word is, if you don't crack this one, you're out of a job."

The glove compartment is closed. Sat on the passenger seat is a whiskey bottle.

Don't know about you but first I would like to check the bottle :3

"Uncle Stan's Golden Malt"; yeah, it's bargain bin liquor at 80% proof and 80% off. Your body's crying out for it. To slip back, let the whole goddamn world ride all the way to the glass at the bottom. Oh yeah.

I'll play a bad cop so let's try to drink it

(the whiskey bottle)

The bottle's not open. You can suck the cap all you like, it won't do you no good.



Then open the bottle

Shaky fingers unscrew the cap. Oh, yeah. Finally, drink

(the whiskey bottle)
You slug back a shot; it's rough-coated like a beauty queen rolling around on a beach. You can feel it tingle your face, slap down your brain, it's smooth like cell-wall plaster. Another slug, and the stomach is warming and the day isn't looking so bad. Drinking on the job; it isn't so evil. Of course, eventually they'll work out what you've done - probably when they drag your drunken body from under a bush. It'll be your career over, your whole goddamn life. But who gives? You've got a good two hours, just you and the whole, to scrape back and let drop. Maybe you could beat someone, maybe you could wrap your car round a tree. Plenty of time, plenty of liquor. Oh, yeah. *** It's all over *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, UNDO your last move, roll the CREDITS or QUIT?

Damn, I lost! Actually, that was not expected.

Well, as you can see:

- Items in game have different properties like 'description' and 'state'
- Game really tracks states of items (bottle was closed so I could not drink the whiskey)
- You actually can lose the game. I managed to achieve the loss during the first minute of the game. Hardcore!

Next attempt to complete at least first scene will be made soon. Stay tuned.