by agentlemanloser » Fri May 09, 2014 8:30 pm
Jorb, Loftar, for what it is worth, I have quite enjoyed Salem, but as many others have pointed out, the major problem is that the game is unfinished. By this I do not mean that certain promised content is absent, but rather that, across the board, the game is offering alpha-stage content at best, certainly compared to, say, the depth and complexity of Haven and Hearth.
And this, I think, is the real root of almost all of the problems with player retention. There are, of course, some problematic issues with the rule set of the game, but prioritizing rule sets before implementing the bulk of the content is like meticulously proofreading a paper’s first draft – changes are meaningless because later content changes and additions will demand further proofreading. I actually like the new gluttony and purity systems, but there it is. Regardless, please consider the following observations and suggestions about three aspects of your game.
World Design: Player Non-Interaction and World Size
As many have observed and as Loftar has complained, player interaction is less that it should be. The new map design was intended partially to correct this, but the mistake is in neither map design or biome distribution but rather in the way in which content interacts with gameplay.
The problem is not that the world is too big, but rather that the light parts of the map are too big initially. The map should have been created with the darkness covering a majority of the map. Initially, players would be forced to settle in very close proximity, thus increasing the parts of the game that make MMOs fun. Then, when the “endgame” stages are reached by players, a push into the darkness becomes possible using the Church content which is now entirely meaningless.
The problem is that you have content that, due to world design, has no function. Is this correctable? I don’t know – you could, of course, with a relatively simple tweak cause the darkness to slowly begin encroaching – but regardless, the map design must reflect the needs of the game.
Gameplay: Player Retention and Discrete Professions/Play Styles
A related problem concerns the ease of a jack-of-all-trades play style. Obviously, you shouldn’t force people to choose professions, but the smart game design provides such a wealth of content that players simply move into one kind of profession, filling a certain niche in the game’s society or economy, and, when a few months later that profession grows boring (though not exhausted, due to content complexity), they move on to other things. Let me give an example.
Since this game is set in a pioneer-themed world, a natural profession choice would be hunter/trapper. But, as it is, any farmer can cover all of the activities related to hunting within a map tile or two of home base. Moreover, there are only a handful of animals to hunt. In short, there is no reason to play (read: experience the game, not create an alt) as a hunter.
However, smarter content design makes this play style possible. For instance, each animal should have multiple varieties/subspecies that increase in value and quality/purity the further one moves from Boston. The northern edge of the map should feature Kodiak bears, for example. (Simple reskins with enhanced stats would have been more than enough. You have a deer; simply slap a horn on it, give it a much more damaging charge, set up a random and rare spawn, and call it a unicorn. Complexity, variety, and fun for thirty minutes of editing.) Moreover, dozens, if not ultimately hundreds, of animal types should be introduced, some drawn from reality and others the Lumberwoods mythology. The more advanced animals could, like in Haven, kill the players, and would require serious skill, stats, and/or planning to hunt. Some might require the player to track them for dozens and dozens of map tiles. Others might require coordinated hunting. (And, of course, each category of beast might require specific learned skills to properly butcher or kill.)
By providing this complexity of content, players could easily sink months into simply hunting and providing rare resources to Boston. Haven already has a rudimentary version of this with creatures like Trolls; it strikes me as silly not to have pursued it here.
I can think of quite literally dozens of possible professional paths and ways to provide complex content to flesh out each path. Even something as presumably simple and grindey as being a woodcutter could be made into an interesting and deep experience, simply by providing incredibly rare trees requiring certain skills, tools, and knowledge to harvest, trees that only grow in certain biomes, trees that migrate and fight back, etc.
Ultimately, players quit because once they have built a base, got some food, and farmed a bit, there is nothing left to do. Providing complex content that fleshes out certain play styles/professional paths neatly avoids this “endgame” problem.
Endgame: Territory Control and Leaderboards
Finally, the dreaded “endgame” (I’m using ironic quotes because no sandbox should be designed to include anything resembling a traditional endgame) stage is usually so dubbed because the game stops providing real goals.
Now, I’m sure many would respond that sandbox games are made so that players can create their own goals, and while this is true in a very abstract sense, the game designers must provide the tools and the framework for such personal goals to be possible.
The previous point about discrete professions addresses this somewhat: clearly, one could make it a personal goal to solo hunt a sasquatch or another dangerous and rare creature, if only to put the trophy head on the wall, or a lumberjack might make it a personal goal to chop down the rare, migratory and rather violent walking sycamore.
But, at the level of social interaction, I feel you missed a simple mechanic early on that could have solved some problems. I’m speaking of arbitrary territory control.
Consider this. A group or town would build territorial claim stakes, “claiming” a few dozen or even a few hundred map tiles, depending on how many they were willing to build. The territory claim wouldn’t work like a personal claim; anyone could walk on into it and do anything they wished – the only difference would be that, like when one enters or leaves Boston, a notification would be given and a set of player-drafted “rules” would be displayed. As long as no one not associated with the group builds in the territory, then the group’s territory would be “secure” and a handy leaderboard would display that the group controls X amount of territory. Clearly, community prestige would be the ultimate goal. If another player builds in the territory, then territory would be insecure and would fall from the board. The leaderboard would also display numbers of poached game, filched fish, outright thefts, etc. This system would provide an incredibly easy-to-implement social interaction game that would exist aside from simple raiding. One group, for example, might easily be able to crush a neighbor, but could they keep their own territory secure? Could they prevent poachers, lumber thieves, etc? As I said, such a system would provide a greater set of options for creating goals. Some might enjoy territorial competition, constantly undermining each other and struggling for board domination or even just regional domination, more than simply fighting all neighbors.
I am not making these suggestions in the hope of you adopting them, mind – had that been my goal I would have posted this in the Ideas section. My goal here is simply to point out that the game’s major problem is a lack of meaningful content designed to encourage either player interaction or unique styles of play. Sadly, the solutions are incredibly easy – even adding deep, profession-related content would largely be an issue of reskinning and number-tweaking, at least initially – but, since your attention has shifted back to Haven, this game will likely never see the level of content required to generate the kind of emergent gameplay you and we have hoped for. Maybe the new Haven will avoid these missteps.