I don’t remember where I read it. In one of several (or perhaps in several of several) novel writing books that I’ve read over the past year. There’s lots of advice out there, but one of the oft repeated bits is that you have to make the hero’s quest personal. Several games do this, but most don’t even bother. It’s important, though, in getting the player to care about what is happening.

People by nature and by culture, deeply understand other people. They get what it means to fall in love, to lose that love, to have people near them die or be threatened by death. They don’t understand what it means for the whole city, country, world, or universe to die. That’s a bit beyond most of us. I know it’s beyond me, I just can’t grok that kind of calamity. I know when I was in high school in the 80’s we were in imminent danger of nuclear attack and it informed my day to day life, living in fear. But what mattered to me was whether the captain of the cheerleading squad would go out with me or not (I was a geek, she laughed at me, of course).

Personal tragedy trumps big dire thing every time. When 9/11 happened, I’d been going through personal tragedies much worse. My father had died six months prior, but only three weeks before those planes ran into those buildings, my wife had left me and my grandmother died — all in the space of three or four days. The worst thing that happened to me on 9/11/2001? My wife called me to try to make up with me in the wake of the tragedy.

I still can’t wrap my head around what happened that day, I couldn’t emotionally process it then, and it just sort of wafted over and around me. I went to lunch and came back to find out they’d evacuated the uptown part of Charlotte. I called SexyWife (before she was officially the wife part), and we went home. She says I was an emotional basket case (my words) that whole time, I’m sure I have a journal entry for it somewhere on Sarah, but not up and running, but that’s not my point

If I were writing a story about it, I’d put my ex-wife in New York City. The personal tragedy and the national one then would fall in line. I’d care not because of the awful attack of terrorists, but because someone who I cared about was in danger. Sure, she’d hurt me, but suddenly that wouldn’t matter — and would lend a nice bit of depth to our characters.

If I was writing for the hero of a videogame, I’d make sure he was tasked with stopping the bad national tragedy, but I’d also make damn sure that he knew his wife was there, needing to be save. Or someone he cared about. Videogame heroes save the world three times before breakfast. Saving their wife, though? That freaking matters.

In a novel, the stakes matter to the main character. The novelist establishes an empathetic connection between the reader and the viewpoint character, and they show you the rest of the world in their hopes and dreams — in other words, we see the stakes from the point of view of the main character. We care about the main character, and in turn we care about what he cares about.

The challenge in games is a little more difficult (or can be, depending on the design of the game). The first challenge lies in how far apart the player is from the viewpoint character. In a game like Half-Life you are Gordon Freeman. In Zelda, you control Link, but because he’s a silent protagonist, he’s closer to you than say, Jade of Beyond Good and Evil.

Even so, you can’t just establish the relationship outside of the game and expect the player to empathize with the relationship. I couldn’t just tell you my wife was in NYC and that’s why I cared, or it wouldn’t matter to you. A lot of JRPGs fall into this trap. There’s some backstory element, or some girl that your character likes who you talk to twice before she’s captured by the big evil. We haven’t had the chance to really know them yet.

Doom, IIRC had a bunny that was killed or something that was mentioned in one of the cut scenes (maybe it was the beginning of Doom2). Who cares? And for Doom that doesn’t matter — we were going to kill everything anyway. But if we want a strong story, we need strong relationships to drive it. That means you’ve got to spend time establishing those relationships.

For my money, that means you’ve got to have that person with you while you play the game. The Maharajha’s daughter, Farah, in Prince of Persia: Sands of Time(drink); Yordla in Ico; Algo, your horse, (and to a lesser degree, the girl you are saving) in Shadow of the Colossus; Pey’j in Beyond Good and Evil — all of these characters aid you in your quest in some way. All are animated in ways that show emotion, and the player’s avatar is animated to show how they feel about the other character.

Half Life 2 gives you Alyx as a companion off and on (I’m still working through it). She’s new, and so they have to try to get this connection played out in game terms. But Gordon has no feelings or opinions about her. They do a decent job, but she was more of a gameplay element. The Valve games, while we may care about the people in them, derive from a more basic personal problem : survival and escape. They do establish a rapport with G.L.A.D.Os, but she’s my enemy, and while I’m sad to destroy her because she’s mad, I have to or I die. This is really the oldest trick in the game designer’s handbook, since game over is not the desired outcome for any player. It’s different, though, from what I’m talking about here.

I still remember the way that Jade says “Pey’j…” after he has been beaten and captured and she finds something that he’s left her. She’s sad, and by this time, I’m sad too. It’s utterly believable, and I care. Brainy Gamer’s Round table entry talks about this game in more detail, but it’s just an answer. From that point on, Jade joins the rebellion, helps save the planet, but it’s all driven by her love for (and attempts to save) Pey’j, and the deepening mystery about who her parents were. As a player, I’m drawn on by those personal mysteries. The actual challenges are created by the actions I take to aid the rebellion, but that’s entirely secondary to why I’m there. (And the same is true of Jade, garnering us some nice Congruency).

It’s these relationships which hold the key to player investment in the game, making it more likely that they will play through the full experience, and remember your game longer than the current one or two week cycle that seems common. Have an empathetic main character, who has wants and needs in the real world, represented ideally by NPCs. Put those NPCs at risk, and give the player the tools to save them. Put that against a bigger, more heroic backdrop and you have a recipe for a popular, moving game.

Otherwise, I’m just saving the universe again.