Design Philosophy

It's interesting hearing about what people consider important when designing maps. It's also interesting how closely the qualities of their maps line up with this. It tells me that we're all pretty good at accomplishing what we set out to accomplish when building our maps.

I've personally always been fascinated at people that work within restrictive parameters and are able to out-perform others. It's part of the reason I've always enjoyed sports. They all have strict, clearly defined rules that everyone has to follow. Watching someone do something amazing within that framework impresses the hell out of me.

This fascination translates into forge for me. I've always enjoyed playing and watching others play on maps that are pretty restrictive. I appreciate lots of different types of designs, but my design interests are pretty specific, and I'm okay with that. Halo itself started out as a relatively simple game, which is a big part of what drew me to it. It has steadily grown more complex, and my interest in it has steadily dwindled. With Halo 5, I find the same thing happening with forge. I applaud the growth of forge, and love seeing what people have done with it. It's greatly reduced my interest in forging though. As someone who loves working within strict guidelines, I've always loved the challenge of working within the framework of forge. With it becoming less restrictive, I find myself being less interested in it. A lot of what I found challenging about it is gone now. For me, the priority has never been on exceptional creativity.

My design philosophy, if we're going to call it that, is to create relatively restrictive play spaces that limit opportunities for individual creativity. It may sound contrary to what I've been saying, but the reason I prefer approaching design this way is that I feel it makes individual creativity more valuable. When opportunities for creativity abound (within a gameplay setting), it devalues that creativity.

I think of it like this (and I realize this probably isn't a great analogy)... If you give a baseball pitcher a strike zone that's 10 feet wide and tall, they'll have much more opportunity for creativity. If someone is an amazing pitcher in that scenario, I find that far less impressive than a pitcher who's amazing with a more restricted strike zone. I don't care what kind of crazy pitches anyone can throw into a 10 foot strike zone.

The focus for me is always on trying to find that balancing point where creativity is at a premium.

 

Poetry

 

Something I notice about a lot of forgers, is that they try to find some kind of all-encompassing idea that applies to all maps.

Like this idea of shape. Will it increase your chances of providing a less-than-usual layout? Sure. But shape alone is not what determines flow, and an interesting shape doesn’t necessarily mean an interesting map.

Take Dust_2: It’s a box with mostly ninety degree turns. Yet, it’s one of the best maps ever created. The execution is what matters.


EDIT: I’m guilty of it, too. Up until now, I’ve subscribed to the idea of north-to-north teleporters. They have sound logic: to have a consistent element of accessibility to a concept that tends to alienate lesser experienced players.

However; this is a very limiting concept, as it greatly reduces the amount of ways you can use a teleported path. Because of this, I decided to break away from it with my current WIP. The map is basically a challenge to break away from the conventions I’ve set for myself.

My point: We should try to approach every map differently. Just because a certain concept works on your last map, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to experiment with it in the future.

 

I absolutely love everything that's being talked about here, and i want to just comment on a few things

It is possible to provide both creative freedom to your players, while still retaining the benefits of order. But i think the goal should be to start with the overarching structure, and then provide players with the ability to get crafty within the established framework.


Also, when it comes to the objective/ subjective dichotomy, me and NGA had this convo recently so i'll just echo what i said and how i explained it. This conversation, wether you're discussing level design, art, politics, philosophy in general, will ultimately always lead back to the creator. God being the perfect objective standard by which we judge all things.


NGA then brought up a interesting point, he was essentialy saying that at bottom their are objective qualities, but the details are subjective. The example he used was music, the chords are the objective qualities, but people prefer those chords aranged in different ways, that's the subjective part.

 

Yeah, and that statement is applicable to literally everyone who forges. We each have our own ideas, and we interpret other peoples work based upon our ideals, even though they don't share them. It's stupid, but absolutely unavoidable, unless we never talk to each other about our maps.

That's true, but again it's a matter of perspective. The 10 foot strike zone is restrictive compared to a 50 foot strike zone, but very unrestricted compared to a classic baseball strike zone. I think it's up to each of us to interpret where the ideal balancing point is.

For me, Halo 5 crosses that threshold completely in the gameplay category. It's the first 'Halo' game where I don't feel like what I consider a 'Halo' style design works with the gameplay. Obviously 'Halo', in this context, refers to something very nebulous. We each have greatly differing ideas of what it is, and I'm only speaking for myself, according to my personal ideas of what Halo is and should be.

Forge, with the degree of advancement in Halo 5, still falls within a range that I would consider restrictive, which is the only reason why I still bother to load it up, especially considering the fact that I despise H5 gameplay. It's approaching my personal threshold though. For me, Halo 5 forge is the equivalent of Halo Reach gameplay. It added a bunch of new stuff, but with those additions it's beginning to move away from what I love about it. I realize this is true for myself only, and that the advancement is fabulous for other people. I personally have no interest in the artistic side of level design. I'm primarily focused on gameplay, with a very minor interest in the architectural aspect of design. Halo 5 forge has brought advancements that I find to be exceptionally helpful; tools that allow me to build a level far faster than I ever could before. It's also brings tools that I see as adding complexity without adding value (again, according to what I find important); tools like lighting, sounds, scripting, cameras. I would never say that these are bad additions, because they're not. They're amazing additions that I have no interest in personally using when I build levels, and so for me they're more of a burden than a benefit.

This is getting somewhat off the topic of the thread, so I won't belabor the point any further. It just happens to be relevant for me, because it goes hand in hand with my overall design philosophy.

 

I think you're all dumb

 

That's pretty much a full proof philosophy you got there.

 

That's subjective.

 

My philosophy is that since everyone has their preferences so there's no one definitive way to build a 'great' map. What a personally like to do is have each level that I make stand out from eachother from a gameplay perspective. When someone gives me feedback, I sit all of the subjective/prefrence based things aside and consider them in future maps. The key, to me, is to have a good variety, not only with each different level but as much as you can with each level itself if those features don't conflict with you overall vision.

For example, comparing snowbound and construct. Both have tight corridors, strict pathing, excessively long lines of sights over wide open areas and generally all flat engagements. In my opinion, Construct is one of, if not my favorite map in the halo series. Where snowbound is dreadfully boring to me. Someone else may say the total opposite. That's why we have both and that's why I try to build for all audience over a larger scale than through one design.

 

H3's comp rotation was so goddamn good. Construct KOTH is one of my personal favorites, I want to say out of every game's MLG rotation.

 

im starting to lean to having a goal with the map we are building. Our success is based on how well we achieved that goal. We shouldn’t try to make a map that does everything because it can’t with out being a mess.
I try to have a new goal with all of my maps. It creates new challenges and makes forging fun for me.
Also, I’d much rather see a game that does unique things with each map than a typical 3 lane map for every map that might get stale. Original halo maps did that and I think that’s why we love them so much. All of us can find a few that we love.

 

When I’m making a map, I️ tend to look at the older pc FPS. Quake and Unreal Tournament seem to come to me more. I️ will usually look at some of the best parts of some of the maps from those games and try to transfer the intensity of that area into halo in my own way. I️ personally think that teleporters play a big role in those classic maps and to me they seem to give the more experienced player the edge. I️ made a map for 1v1 in a matter of 2 hours. (Block out) after contest. I️ was bored and I️ saw some pictures online of classic maps and I️ said, how hard could that be. I️ made a few rooms and some teles and the map plays fairly well. It’s fast paced, map knowledge is key and it makes you feel like you’re back in quake. To me that’s what makes for a great map. The experience. It’s been one of my favorite maps I’ve done and I’m happy to say I️ have @Pat Sounds doing art on it and it feels like you are back on quake.

 

I saw this thread a few months ago and some things came to mind, so I may as well share now.

I've already posted this pyramid, but I'll use it again for reference:



CORE:
The foundation of any design I do, whether it is level design or art or music, is to create something with a hook. In music, a hook is a catchy melody that you can not only hum, but remember and recall instantly in your mind's library of hundreds - if not thousands - of other melodies. I find myself humming other people's scores all the time, but I recently wrote one that I can't get out of my head, and that means that I am on the right track.

For level design terms, my hook lies with the gameplay and theme. I don't believe in the separation of these elements and I strive to build them in tandem. It's important to me to establish an interesting and unique environment and then create paths and sightlines that are what you would expect out of that area. For instance, if we fight in an abandoned shopping mall, I want to fight through stores, on escalators, on broken rafters, and so on. Those "set pieces" help to steer the direction of the design, but it's important that they do not drive them. What should drive the design is the philosophy behind the gameplay. "How do I want players to move and succeed on this map?"

The way I like to play shooters is very reactionary. I like to anticipate what the enemy does and intercept them. So one minute I might sit somewhere advantageous and the next I might rush straight towards someone. Furthermore, I don't like to remove myself from the active fight to go grab a pick up, and instead rely on primary gunplay because I think it's the more exciting to be in action all the time. Thus, for a player like me to succeed, I make heavy use of geometry. I need ramps to crouch behind, platforms to jump up to, and anything else I can use to be creative and dynamically alter an encounter. For me, I don't enjoy playing if I'm forced to slow down or constantly pay attention to what I'm stepping on because most of that mental process is already dedicated to screaming Leroy Jenkins during a gun battle.

Therefore, in my designs, I like to have room to breathe. I choose to strike a balance between a healthy margin of error with the predictability of linear paths. I want players to know that when they hop on a path, they are committing to it for some time, and if they have the option to disengage from that path, it's going to put them at a disadvantage. But not all paths are created equal, and some of those are more forgiving than others. If you can run around like a headless chicken on acid, then I've done something wrong. Randomness and creativity are completely different things.

Building off of the ability to alter an encounter is the map's potential for growth. I don't believe you should be a master at playing the map after 5, 10 or even 100 games. It should continue to evolve and you should find yourself doing new things often enough to keep it fresh for some time. Thus, I think the map has to cater to a decent variety of play styles and allow any sort of combination of strategies to succeed. There may be a dominant strategy, but it might not even be the best or most efficient, and the player who discovers that should be awarded for their ingenuity.

The bottom line is, if I can run around on the map and enjoy myself purely by using the geometry, then the playspace will have met my gameplay goals.

It's from there I can tweak other elements of the core foundation like the composition. In particular, my recent projects focused heavily on Weighting. Visually, I try to design a space according to The Golden Ratio. This is done not just by the actual size and shape of the various areas, but also in the visual design. Even if the map calls for uniform structure, it's important to me that the shapes differentiate the areas. If I can look at the map in grayscale and orient myself based on silhouettes, then it meets this goal. This is a very important skill I use in character design; great animators often exaggerate proportions to create distinct characters before they bother with the details. Thus, visualizing the various areas of the map as characters with their own identity helps to inform their shapes relative to one another.

The other side of the composition coin is Visual Framing. By utilizing negative space, I try to highlight and frame the landmarks, sightlines, and other areas of interest geometrically before lighting even comes into play. This is the stage at which I begin to invest in the emotional value of my work by designing strong visual imagery and "snapshot scenes" that the player encounters as they move throughout the map. It plays on a very innate and primal human instinct - the ability to recognize their homeland and recall distinct iconography from memory. Thus, without strong visual framing, a map's capacity to install itself in our nostalgia banks is severely diminished.

Lastly (but not least) are my themes. I try to think of themes that have not been done before, or if they have, I want to change the gameplay on them. Most of what inspires me to create an area is a strong visual set piece or a color palette, but I also often start with a simple gameplay idea. The last project I worked on was born out of the desire to fight inside and outside of a cathedral, so all of the structure reflects the things I would expect to find in that environment. But I've also started with nothing more than a name and the kind of gameplay that came to mind from word association. Regardless of where I begin, the goal here is to maintain the relationship between the setting and gameplay that feels like it belongs there.

STYLE:
In my pyramid, the style category represents the unique things that I do on my maps. So for starters, it's no surprise that I like spiral ramps. It's a soothing shape that gradually draws a player's attention to the next area, as opposed to abruptly invading their eyesight and overloading their thought. Thus, it's something I like to feature often in my designs. In music, I treat them like crescendos, whereas in animation, these tend to represent the arc of movement that creates an organic and lifelike form of expression. There is obviously a time for more harsh and angular surfaces, but the majority of my work is stylistically whimsical, soft and gestural. Even when my map isn't loosely defined, I try to incorporate that granularity in the way a player is introduced to each encounter, either through visual backdrops or geometry they traverse.

Another thing I like to do on my maps is suggest that they are "lived in" environments. I want them to look like a presence has been there, whether it was a physical entity or simply the passage of time as it was forgone to the elements. It's a small but effective method of visual storytelling that enhances the character of the playspace. I want the player's curiosity to be piqued as they walk around wondering where they are and how the environment might have really been created.

TONE:
This is the area I focus the most on because I consider it the most personal element of the design. A lot of people partake in entertainment, whether it is visual or aural, as a way of escaping the realities of their daily life. Therefore, it's a tremendous priority for my work to serve as a bridge connecting their thoughts and emotions to the message I intend to convey. I do this by creating a mood specific for that work.

When I choose a color palette, I focus on the interplay between their values. Warm tones can be both uplifting and aggravating, whereas cool tones can either be soothing and tranquil, or dull and numb. I'll always use 3 primary hues and accent with a few more, but most of my design will feature neutral tones in order for the colors to have significance and stand out.

Lighting is arguably the most powerful tool for influencing tone, as it establishes a difference in value, which is inherently related to how important something is. Whenever I've lit a space or chosen to feature an area, it's done so as a way to draw the player's attention and signify an area of interest. A single ray of crepuscular light beaming through a window could highlight a door or inform the player or a downward ramp, while an area of darkness can subconsciously encourage them to pick up their pace and move back towards the light. I think what many designers aren't aware of when it comes to lighting is that it is alive. It behaves and reacts, and the more personality you inject in your lighting, the more soul your map will have. For this reason, my lights are usually multiple colors and values blended into one another.

I'm not going to talk too much about sound design, but I will say that I often see people forget that we have two ears that are capable of hearing unique sounds from different directions. Horizontal and Vertical Panning are very basic techniques I use often to assist the player with orienting themselves within the level. Sound bounces around and scatters and loses momentum as it is diffused, so I try to respect this by layering different intensities with regards to the acoustics of the various planes. It's easier said than done because we don't always have multiple effects to work with, so we have to get creative with distance and placement.

DISPLAY:
Again, this is the polish element of design. I obviously rarely get to this stage, but it's become a habit of mine to restart all of my projects on a final build to ensure that every detail is as clean as possible. There is of course something endearing about a sketchy design with some of the gestures and pathfinding of the development process left intact; however, level design needs to stand the test of time, and that means filling in the seams.

Presentation is something I take very seriously. From the subtle pan of the first intro cinematic to the time it takes a player to orient themselves and discover the map off of their initial spawn, I want to strike a strong first impression and enhance it as the player interacts with the environment. Those "filmesque" moments are hardwired into every "scene" of the design, like when a player rounds a corner into a hallway and the atmospheric fog creates a depth of field effect that filters out everything other than the subject - the other player - before them. This is where you'll discover how accessible your creation is. As the saying goes, if you can't explain something as simple as possible, then you don't understand it well enough. Therefore, a map shouldn't need a ridiculous learning curve to represent complicated ideas; rather, the map itself should teach the player.


VALUE:
So this is where I usually answer the simple question: Why? Why did I make this map? Why would I want to play this map? Why will I remember this map?

With music, that question is fairly easy. You write lyrics for a specific mood or to tell a story. I approach level design in very much the same way. I want the player to see what an abandoned town might look like and design gameplay that highlights feelings of isolation by separating them from their teammate often. Or I might want to play on their fears of anxiety by making a lot of the map unstable, and then contrast that with comfortable ground and powerful imagery to convey a message of hope. Perhaps I'll go with a more subtle route and show something peaceful being corrupted by apathy or neglect, and use color and imagery to reference the spirit or the mind. Level design to me can get away with all of this, and if done right, the player should feel like they are part of that world. As you play the map, it's my goal for the player to be enveloped in sensory stimulation. How would I feel if I was actually here? I want them to wonder what is out there, or how they got here, or where they are going from here, and so on.

But the single most important aspect of any design I do is its legacy. How will this live on and inspire others? What am I doing to drive innovation and raise the bar? If what I'm doing has been done before, how am I doing it differently? How did this challenge me as a designer? What did I learn that I can take onto my next project, or teach someone else? And above all else, what is the true meaning behind it all? What will this work mean to someone else? When I have answered all of those questions wholeheartedly, I know I'll have created something worth sharing.



So yea, that's what I like to do. Perhaps one day, the limitations of the editor and flaws of the gameplay will no longer enslave my creative process. But the first step I've done in loosening those chains is to focus not on chasing perfection, but personification. What will define my work is not how flawless or innovative it is, but how many people it is able to connect with.

 

TL;DR

 

Just make triangles

 

EMBRACE THE MEME even if there is some truth to it.