For a long time, Shadow of the Colossus was at the top of my list of favorite games. It created a story of desperation in a strange land that I totally dug. The mechanics of the game tied into the story in ways I hadn't seen before. It did this with almost no words, proving my secret fear that writers are useless (not quite, but it's an important point!).
This is going to be a multi-part look at a few games that I feel are related in terms of narrative design. We have Fumito Ueda's two acclaimed titles, Ico and Shadow of the Colossus; Journey, by thatgamecompany; and Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons by Starbreeze. As a game writer, I want to see how they made stories I loved while using little or no real language.
Also, I am going to spoil all of these games. They are all games that put forward an interesting and surprising story, so if you don't want them spoiled, you should stop reading.
This is going to be a multi-part look at a few games that I feel are related in terms of narrative design. We have Fumito Ueda's two acclaimed titles, Ico and Shadow of the Colossus; Journey, by thatgamecompany; and Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons by Starbreeze. As a game writer, I want to see how they made stories I loved while using little or no real language.
Also, I am going to spoil all of these games. They are all games that put forward an interesting and surprising story, so if you don't want them spoiled, you should stop reading.
There is a lot that could be said about the storytelling in Ico and Shadow of the Colossus. They could be (and have been) fodder for a lot of online discussion. I'm going to try to focus on their techniques, but I really like both of these games, so be prepared for some tangents.
Let's look at how these games start. Both Ico and Shadow of the Colossus start with text, but they use it sparingly from that point on, so I think it's worth examining what they say.
You can see the intro to ICO here:
Let's look at how these games start. Both Ico and Shadow of the Colossus start with text, but they use it sparingly from that point on, so I think it's worth examining what they say.
You can see the intro to ICO here:
Notice the ominous but vague lines used by the character escorting Ico into the castle:
Get the sword. Do not be angry with us. This is for the good of the village.
Right away, the game is setting up that this world can be cruel, even to those that don't deserve it. It's showing us a child protagonist, but it won't be the story of a chosen one that saves the world.
After that, we get very little direct explanation of the world. They do set up some important game concepts in that introduction though. They show the sword glowing and opening a magical gate, and the complicated elevator that hints at the puzzles to come. In both cases, they're using images where another game might use text.
Shortly after, we see Yorda emerge from the shadow. Here we are being introduced the concepts of light and dark, which are used extensively and creatively in both of Ueda's games. A traditional RPG might spell out its grand conflict with a prologue about the battle between light and dark. This sets up a similar dichotomy, but makes it more nuanced and personal (through the use of Yorda).
So, even with some dialogue (voiced in a gibberish language) we get most of the information required to begin playing from the atmosphere alone.
In Shadow of the Colossus, the initial action of the story is spelled out more directly. You can see the intro here:
Get the sword. Do not be angry with us. This is for the good of the village.
Right away, the game is setting up that this world can be cruel, even to those that don't deserve it. It's showing us a child protagonist, but it won't be the story of a chosen one that saves the world.
After that, we get very little direct explanation of the world. They do set up some important game concepts in that introduction though. They show the sword glowing and opening a magical gate, and the complicated elevator that hints at the puzzles to come. In both cases, they're using images where another game might use text.
Shortly after, we see Yorda emerge from the shadow. Here we are being introduced the concepts of light and dark, which are used extensively and creatively in both of Ueda's games. A traditional RPG might spell out its grand conflict with a prologue about the battle between light and dark. This sets up a similar dichotomy, but makes it more nuanced and personal (through the use of Yorda).
So, even with some dialogue (voiced in a gibberish language) we get most of the information required to begin playing from the atmosphere alone.
In Shadow of the Colossus, the initial action of the story is spelled out more directly. You can see the intro here:
The very first lines come from the disembodied voice of a priest character:
That place... began from the resonance of intersecting points... They are memories replaced by ens and naught and etched into stone. Blood, young sprouts, sky--and the one with the ability to control beings created from light... In that world, it is said that if one should wish it one can bring back the souls of the dead... ...But to trespass upon that land is strictly forbidden...
Now, there is some arguably awkward poetry at the beginning there, but the last lines are key. They give you the goal (bring someone back from the dead) and that it is forbidden. This is reinforced when Dormin outlines the Faustian bargain he is striking with the protagonist:
DORMIN: But heed this, the price you pay may be heavy indeed.
WANDER: It doesn't matter.
In just a few opening lines, the game is giving you the crux of its plot. You will play as Wander, who will do whatever it takes to bring back his love from the dead. When I played this game, I completely forgot about how foreboding this opening was. I was wrapped up in the gameplay and the atmosphere. When I reached the end and had to pay that cost, it hit all the harder because the game hadn't been constantly reminding me of it the whole time.
But how does this game introduce you to its themes and mechanics without using words? Well, I'd say that it doesn't succeed at that quite as well as Ico. The atmosphere is certainly established. That impossibly long bridge stretching into the Forbidden Land, the feeling that it was once lived in but now abandoned, the teasing of new locations by showing bits of them on the horizon—all of those are built on later in the game.
Like Ico, it shows that Wander's ancient sword is associated with the light, and that it is anathema to the shadows that inhabit the Forbidden Land. But here, it is not complicated as it is in Ico. It is a hero with a sword (albeit a stolen one) that glows, a princess in need of rescue, and some shadowy monsters repelled by the sword's light. In fairness to the game, what happens later does upset this seemingly cliché beginning, but it would have been great if they'd hinted at the twists to come with some imagery as well.
After the intros, both of these games rarely use dialogue. There is one turning point in Ico where the Queen, Yorda's mother, appears, and you begin to understand their relationship, but nothing is made concrete until the end of the game. In SotC, there are descriptions and hints about the Colossi, but very few words that advance the story.
The gameplay, however, does build up the story. In Ico, you are escorting Yorda through the castle. And if you leave her for too long, the shadow creatures come to claim her. So, you must alternate between helping Yorda navigate, and saving her from monsters. There are many times when you have to separate from her, and each of those is fraught with tension as you know that the longer you take, the more danger she's in. It builds a strong relationship between the player and Yorda. It can go sour however, as Yorda can become a nuisance due to bad pathfinding, repeatedly getting caught, etc. It was a careful balance that the designers had to strike with her, and though it was mostly good, I did feel there were multiple places where the constant need to save her outstripped my actual desire to do so.
SotC has its own companion relationship. Though not with the girl that Wander wants to rescue, but with his horse, Argo. Argo is with the player from the beginning, and provides a fun and interesting way to navigate the empty landscape. I don't know anyone that didn't enjoy their trusty steed as they went from battle to battle. He only directly helps you defeat a couple of those Collosi. When he is present in a fight, there is some anxiety about keeping him safe. However, the horse is much more durable than the player's character, so this isn't nearly as tense as similar moments in Ico. Of course, this might make the sacrifice of Argo harder to take. In a scripted moment, Argo bucks Wander to safety, but at the cost of his own life. This isn't the most graceful way to tug at the heartstrings, but at least the designers made the effort to build a relationship with the horse before killing him off for emotional effect. Too often, games try to play this card without first setting up the trick, and it falls very flat.
Another mechanic that plays into the story is the ability to move the camera during the cutscenes. It is limited, but it helps make the already grand vistas that appear in the game even more vast. You can tilt the camera several degrees, letting you see past the usual "edges" of the shot. It really sells the size of the land, and its isolation.
There is also the increasing darkness of Wander's body and the gradual brightening of Mono (the girl's) body. As each Colossus is slain, there is a burst of shadow that streams into Wander. It is subtle, but each time it happens, he becomes a bit more like the shadowy creatures seen in the intro. I missed this on my first playthrough, only noticing it when it became quite severe at the end. I think this reminder of "the cost" is part of what makes it such an interesting game.
The endings of both of these games are unusual in the medium. I think both of them stand out not just because they aren't purely "happy", but also because they are open without simply tying into a sequel. They are superb, in my opinion. They build on everything that came before and give you something that stays with you after the game is complete.
Again, you should not watch these if you want to play the games, as that's how they should be experienced:
That place... began from the resonance of intersecting points... They are memories replaced by ens and naught and etched into stone. Blood, young sprouts, sky--and the one with the ability to control beings created from light... In that world, it is said that if one should wish it one can bring back the souls of the dead... ...But to trespass upon that land is strictly forbidden...
Now, there is some arguably awkward poetry at the beginning there, but the last lines are key. They give you the goal (bring someone back from the dead) and that it is forbidden. This is reinforced when Dormin outlines the Faustian bargain he is striking with the protagonist:
DORMIN: But heed this, the price you pay may be heavy indeed.
WANDER: It doesn't matter.
In just a few opening lines, the game is giving you the crux of its plot. You will play as Wander, who will do whatever it takes to bring back his love from the dead. When I played this game, I completely forgot about how foreboding this opening was. I was wrapped up in the gameplay and the atmosphere. When I reached the end and had to pay that cost, it hit all the harder because the game hadn't been constantly reminding me of it the whole time.
But how does this game introduce you to its themes and mechanics without using words? Well, I'd say that it doesn't succeed at that quite as well as Ico. The atmosphere is certainly established. That impossibly long bridge stretching into the Forbidden Land, the feeling that it was once lived in but now abandoned, the teasing of new locations by showing bits of them on the horizon—all of those are built on later in the game.
Like Ico, it shows that Wander's ancient sword is associated with the light, and that it is anathema to the shadows that inhabit the Forbidden Land. But here, it is not complicated as it is in Ico. It is a hero with a sword (albeit a stolen one) that glows, a princess in need of rescue, and some shadowy monsters repelled by the sword's light. In fairness to the game, what happens later does upset this seemingly cliché beginning, but it would have been great if they'd hinted at the twists to come with some imagery as well.
After the intros, both of these games rarely use dialogue. There is one turning point in Ico where the Queen, Yorda's mother, appears, and you begin to understand their relationship, but nothing is made concrete until the end of the game. In SotC, there are descriptions and hints about the Colossi, but very few words that advance the story.
The gameplay, however, does build up the story. In Ico, you are escorting Yorda through the castle. And if you leave her for too long, the shadow creatures come to claim her. So, you must alternate between helping Yorda navigate, and saving her from monsters. There are many times when you have to separate from her, and each of those is fraught with tension as you know that the longer you take, the more danger she's in. It builds a strong relationship between the player and Yorda. It can go sour however, as Yorda can become a nuisance due to bad pathfinding, repeatedly getting caught, etc. It was a careful balance that the designers had to strike with her, and though it was mostly good, I did feel there were multiple places where the constant need to save her outstripped my actual desire to do so.
SotC has its own companion relationship. Though not with the girl that Wander wants to rescue, but with his horse, Argo. Argo is with the player from the beginning, and provides a fun and interesting way to navigate the empty landscape. I don't know anyone that didn't enjoy their trusty steed as they went from battle to battle. He only directly helps you defeat a couple of those Collosi. When he is present in a fight, there is some anxiety about keeping him safe. However, the horse is much more durable than the player's character, so this isn't nearly as tense as similar moments in Ico. Of course, this might make the sacrifice of Argo harder to take. In a scripted moment, Argo bucks Wander to safety, but at the cost of his own life. This isn't the most graceful way to tug at the heartstrings, but at least the designers made the effort to build a relationship with the horse before killing him off for emotional effect. Too often, games try to play this card without first setting up the trick, and it falls very flat.
Another mechanic that plays into the story is the ability to move the camera during the cutscenes. It is limited, but it helps make the already grand vistas that appear in the game even more vast. You can tilt the camera several degrees, letting you see past the usual "edges" of the shot. It really sells the size of the land, and its isolation.
There is also the increasing darkness of Wander's body and the gradual brightening of Mono (the girl's) body. As each Colossus is slain, there is a burst of shadow that streams into Wander. It is subtle, but each time it happens, he becomes a bit more like the shadowy creatures seen in the intro. I missed this on my first playthrough, only noticing it when it became quite severe at the end. I think this reminder of "the cost" is part of what makes it such an interesting game.
The endings of both of these games are unusual in the medium. I think both of them stand out not just because they aren't purely "happy", but also because they are open without simply tying into a sequel. They are superb, in my opinion. They build on everything that came before and give you something that stays with you after the game is complete.
Again, you should not watch these if you want to play the games, as that's how they should be experienced:
So, Ico presents us with an end boss that you must kill. But what are the consequences? Have you doomed Yorda to take the Queen's place in the castle? Does Yorda somehow escape the cycle because of your actions? Either way, it's clear that Ico suffers quite a bit by killing her. The very very end, that bit on the beach, has been interpreted in several ways: being in heaven, an actual happy ending, or the dream of a concussed child. We'll see this problematic ending show up in one of the other games I want to talk about as well. Ie. You can't tell if you're seeing a happy ending or the tragic death of your character.
Now, there is dialogue that explains at least part of what is going on. But, a lot of the ambiguity that exists after the Queen is killed would probably be lost if more text were inserted. There are some strong images here such as the boat that brought Ico here, the destruction of the castle, or the bright beach. But the most interesting to me is the shadowy figure that Yorda has become. She has come to resemble the Queen, but she helps Ico, meaning she might have some residue of her self there. I can't tell if she is still in transition to becoming a full-fledged shadow like the Queen, or if she has halted it at that point. Either way, I like that the shadows shown with Yorda at the beginning have now merged with her. It brings a nice completeness the imagery.
Shadow of the Colossus was really a powerful ending for me when I played it. You've just completed an achingly hard fight, and instead of any kind of fanfare or reward, you're turned into a zombie and then shot with an arrow. Again, dialogue is used during the end of the game to make some specific points. Some of those priest's lines are superflous, but overall they're needed. For instance, I would have realized that Wander had become corrupted due to Dormin's influence without the priest pointing it out, but I do like to hear how Wander was already a criminal and has now become an abomination. You can hear in those lines that the priest has little sympathy for Wander, even as he commands to have him put down.
At that point, when Wander is on the ground and a soldier comes toward him with sword raised, there is a very interesting shot. You look from the soldier's perspective as the sword is held above Wander. And you can still, like in all cutscenes, move the camera a little. And, when I tried to do that, I suddenly felt completely powerless. I could tilt the camera one way or the other, but not enough to even obscure that dangling sword. It was as impossible to look away as it was for Wander to survive this whole quest. I don't know for sure that this conflation of mechanic and symbolism was intentional, but I still love it.
Then, Wander transforms, and you're given control of the giant demonic form of Dormin. If Ico presented you with an end boss that should not have been killed, SotC presents you as an end boss that really should be killed. You cause the soldiers to scatter, but the priest is able to get away and use the sword to create a swirling vortex that sucks Dormin/Wander in. You're given control of the character again as you're pulled towards this vortex of light. Your form is still covered in shadow, but it's now Wander's form instead of the monstrous Dormin's. You can try to get away (the player in the video I linked to doesn't), but you'll always be pulled to the edge of the pool. There, you can hold on, just as you have done on countless ledges and sixteen Colossi up to that point. And just like those times, your time is limited. The grip mechanic, used throughout the game for both the exploration and the combat is now just one more desperate attempt to delay dying. But it doesn't stop anything. You have to pay that cost.
Also like Ico, there is an epilogue that points to a happier future, but not one without complications. Mono lives, just as Dormin promised. Wander is replaced by or has become a baby. Argo appears again, with a bad limp. All three of them take refuge in a garden atop the tower, where life seems to have a stronger presence than in the rest of the Forbidden Land. That said, they are in an even more isolated version of the Forbidden Land, and there are still questions around how real this final moment is. Again, the imagery alone creates an interesting ambiguity. If the epilogue was narrated in some way, it would probably be made clear, but I don't think that would be better.
That's it for Ico and Shadow of the Colossus. I'll take a break from this for at least one week, but look for part 2 of this topic soon.
Thanks.
Now, there is dialogue that explains at least part of what is going on. But, a lot of the ambiguity that exists after the Queen is killed would probably be lost if more text were inserted. There are some strong images here such as the boat that brought Ico here, the destruction of the castle, or the bright beach. But the most interesting to me is the shadowy figure that Yorda has become. She has come to resemble the Queen, but she helps Ico, meaning she might have some residue of her self there. I can't tell if she is still in transition to becoming a full-fledged shadow like the Queen, or if she has halted it at that point. Either way, I like that the shadows shown with Yorda at the beginning have now merged with her. It brings a nice completeness the imagery.
Shadow of the Colossus was really a powerful ending for me when I played it. You've just completed an achingly hard fight, and instead of any kind of fanfare or reward, you're turned into a zombie and then shot with an arrow. Again, dialogue is used during the end of the game to make some specific points. Some of those priest's lines are superflous, but overall they're needed. For instance, I would have realized that Wander had become corrupted due to Dormin's influence without the priest pointing it out, but I do like to hear how Wander was already a criminal and has now become an abomination. You can hear in those lines that the priest has little sympathy for Wander, even as he commands to have him put down.
At that point, when Wander is on the ground and a soldier comes toward him with sword raised, there is a very interesting shot. You look from the soldier's perspective as the sword is held above Wander. And you can still, like in all cutscenes, move the camera a little. And, when I tried to do that, I suddenly felt completely powerless. I could tilt the camera one way or the other, but not enough to even obscure that dangling sword. It was as impossible to look away as it was for Wander to survive this whole quest. I don't know for sure that this conflation of mechanic and symbolism was intentional, but I still love it.
Then, Wander transforms, and you're given control of the giant demonic form of Dormin. If Ico presented you with an end boss that should not have been killed, SotC presents you as an end boss that really should be killed. You cause the soldiers to scatter, but the priest is able to get away and use the sword to create a swirling vortex that sucks Dormin/Wander in. You're given control of the character again as you're pulled towards this vortex of light. Your form is still covered in shadow, but it's now Wander's form instead of the monstrous Dormin's. You can try to get away (the player in the video I linked to doesn't), but you'll always be pulled to the edge of the pool. There, you can hold on, just as you have done on countless ledges and sixteen Colossi up to that point. And just like those times, your time is limited. The grip mechanic, used throughout the game for both the exploration and the combat is now just one more desperate attempt to delay dying. But it doesn't stop anything. You have to pay that cost.
Also like Ico, there is an epilogue that points to a happier future, but not one without complications. Mono lives, just as Dormin promised. Wander is replaced by or has become a baby. Argo appears again, with a bad limp. All three of them take refuge in a garden atop the tower, where life seems to have a stronger presence than in the rest of the Forbidden Land. That said, they are in an even more isolated version of the Forbidden Land, and there are still questions around how real this final moment is. Again, the imagery alone creates an interesting ambiguity. If the epilogue was narrated in some way, it would probably be made clear, but I don't think that would be better.
That's it for Ico and Shadow of the Colossus. I'll take a break from this for at least one week, but look for part 2 of this topic soon.
Thanks.
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