Video Gaming

The Writer’s Game: Wytchwood

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

The Writer’s Game: Wytchwood

Wytchwood from Alientrap is a “gothic fairy tale game.” You’re an amnesiac witch with a cauldron on her head, stealing the souls of wrongdoers for a mysterious black goat. Steal enough souls, and you’ll awaken a mysterious sleeping maiden and maybe get your memory back. Of course, punishing evil is pretty rewarding . . .

The core of the game is crafting. As the Witch, you wander around collecting ingredients from the countryside and it’s creatures. You can craft traps, magical items, and more with the right components. Figuring out where to get resources, use them, and combine them is critical to progress.

You’ll use all your brews and creations to undermine assorted unpleasant figures and save people from evil. The characters all have a “fairy tale” feel, and more than a few will seem familiar. Completing your missions is semi-linear, making the game more of a visual novel/linear adventure unlocked my making things.

The game itself is really a playable story – it’s just you have to figure out crafting and resources to advance the tale. As you can guess, such an interactive tale yields quite a few lessons for writing fiction.

Look and Feel

Wytchwood is a fairy tale, and the game is excellently crafted to reflect the genre choices. The entire look feels illustrated much like Wildermyth. One wanders through various locations that look like a pop-up storybook. Characters have exaggerated looks in bright colors, and monsters and wildlife are amusingly expressive. It feels right.

Getting that feel is critical to your own writing. Perhaps your novel needs long paragraphs and colorful language, or it needs short breezy commentary. Wychwood’s aesthetic helps you embrace what it’s trying to be – a playable fairy tale.

(Of course, maybe you’re trying to break genre conventions, so keep that in mind as well.)

Know What You’re Doing

Wychwood is a story, but its mechanic is infamously familiar – wander around, collect things, make things. The game boils down to a shopping list and a to-do list that tells stories. The creators knew exactly what they wanted and stuck with it.

This focus means the game delivers on its two premises – crafting and stories – and can go deep in each area. Crafting requires thought in gathering and using items, which can set up satisfying “cascades” as you maximize your travels and tricks. Stories have all sorts of twists and turns as well as human bits, and are obviously carefully written. It’s amazing what you can do with focus.

When making a story, focus on what you want to deliver. It might not be all things to all people, but it will be the right thing you set out to do.

You Don’t Have to Say Much

For a game where you wake up in a world with no memory, the game tells a lot of story without saying a lot. Any exposition comes from conversation with other characters or flavor text – your character has nothing to add. As some storylines are mysteries, you start them at near-zero information.

It turns out that you don’t have to say a lot to tell a story. Wytchwood realizes its tales through conversations, reactions, clues, and flavor text. Everything revealed is relevant to the story and the game, but there’s no giant exposition dumps or walls of text. Wychwood sticks with what’s needed.

Amnesia is a remarkale way to make a story concise.

Keep It Human

Wytchwood tells tales of people, even if they’re very archetypical. A woman wishes to escape the attentions of an amorous wolf-man. Neighbors are fighting with each other because of a cunning manipulator. Workers groan under the burden of some taskmasters who earn a richly creepy comeuppance. It’s a visceral, human game because you relate to the characters.

This sheer humanity draws you into the game, because so much is relatable, albeit colorfully exaggerated.

If you write fiction, keep it human. Ensure characters can be understood and related to work with emotions, feelings, and sensations.

A Lovely Bit Of magic

Wytchwood takes the (in)famous game mechanic of “collect and craft” and uses it to tell a series of compelling fairy tales. Making excellent stylistic choices, making its tales human without information overload, it draws you in.

If you’re trying to craft a good story, Wytchwood is worth examining – and maybe playing.

Takeaways for Writers:

  • Chose stylistic elements appropriate to the story and genre (unless breaking convention is the point)
  • Focus on what you want to deliver depth. It’s better to do a few things well in writing than be all things to all people.
  • Tell your story with relevant elements that reveal enough – character reactions, discussions, appropriate descriptions. You can do a lot with surprisingly little.
  • Make your tales human, it ensures people relate and understand, and draws them in.

Steven Savage

The Writer’s Game: Wildermyth

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Wildermyth (released 2021, Worldwalker games) took the computer gaming scene by storm even after nearly two years in Early Access.  It was well-praised by many, and I can personally attest that it was both fun and gripping.

In the game, one takes a series of generated characters through various adventures, facing monsters and challenges.  Your party faces enemies tactical battles with enemies, wanders the land scouting and rebuilding towns, and engages in unique story moments.  Characters may become legends and be used again in other games – or even reappear randomly – and become more powerful and famous.

It is a game of making legends and remixing them – much as humans do anyway.  It also provides many lessons for writers.

Nail The Feel

Wildermyth ensures it feels like a you’re experiencing an epic tale.  The game’s graphics look like storybook art – on the battlefield, characters and scenery look like paper cutouts.  Appropriate moody music plays throughout your adventures.  Character appearances change, sometimes radically, as mythic powers and experiences change mind and body.

Wildermyth communicates with you by having the proper aesthetic.  Every part of it says “storybook legend.”  Storytellers – whatever their media – need to set the mood as well.

Wrap The Mechanics

As mentioned, in Wildermyth, you save characters after successful adventures and other actions.  This lets you reuse them, “remixing” heroes old and new in adventures and even improving them for later games.  The game portrays this as a “Legacy” of stories that is remixed – like our own Arthurian legends.

Of course, this is just a classic “Roguelite” mechanic of past adventures paying off for later play.  But Wildermyth cleverly wraps the mechanic in a kind of “meta-story” that works with the feel of the game.  Sometimes in writing, “recasting” a common idea differently both enhances a tale, but also ties into the aesthetic you’re aiming for.

Wildermyth contains other familiar mechanics as well – grid-based tactical battles, choose-your-own-adventure options, etc.  But all of these work in service of the game’s aesthetic and goals.

The Moments Count

As one plays Wildermyth, small “plotlets” emerge – partially randomized, partially due to character traits and situations.  A character may find a hidden gem, befriend a forest creature, or have an idea how to ambush an enemy.  Choices may make combat easier, change a character, have them fall in love, etc.

All of these “plotlets” add up over a game session, evolving the characters and their stories.  Your characters are not just an epic quest; they’re composed of these moments, evolving them into someone else.  They may even seem to take on a life of their own as you play.

For writers, this is a reminder that character details matter – characters are composed of them.  It’s also a reminder that these details mean characters may surprise you unexpectedly.

Change Is All

Stories are about change of some kind, even if the only change is in the reader.  Wildermyth embraces change.

In Wildermyth, every battle, every “plotlet” changes the characters and the world.  Enemies get stronger, learning from defeat.  Characters grow in experience, fall in love, get married, become werewolves (really), and more.  In long games, party members retire and may even die, with their children carrying on their legacy.

This change gives the game both urgency and meaning.  There is an urgency to make every moment count, and meaning because every action has repercussions.  In short, it makes each game a story.

Wildermyth I is an example of how change both makes and drives a story – because you play through that change and experience it.

Living the Legend

Wildermyth is a game about creating stories.  Though there are familiar mechanics, the way they are implemented and combined makes the game, well, legendary.  With so much driving your adventure forward, it becomes gripping, personal – and a game writers can learn from.

Lessons for Writers

All works have a feel.  Aiming to achieve that is important to deliver your tale.

You can “re-wrap” familiar mechanics and elements in new ways to fit the feel of your story – and get away with standard but expected aspects in new ways.

Characters are composed of details and “plotlets.”  Being aware of that brings them to life in ways that can surprise you.

Change is what a story’s about.  A good story moves forward (appropriately), and change brings both meaning and grips the audience.

Steven Savage

The Writer’s Game: Dungeonmans

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Dungeonmans from Adventurepro games is a parody of fantasy games in the roguelike style.  As a titular Dungeonmans (the title is used no matter the preferred gender) at Dungeonmans Academy you sally forth to crush monsters and find treasure.  Near-inevitably your character will die, but their legacy lives on to assist the next student.  Eventually, you accomplish the all-too-common goal of finding the Big Evil and beating it up, then faffing around and exploring if you so wish.

Dungeonmans doesn’t aspire to a unique plot – the game’s charm is that it embraces all the tropes of fantasy and the roguelike genre.  Among the kill-and-loot mechanics and laughs there are multiple lessons for writers – because comedy is challenging.  Fortunately, Dungeonmans is fun, funny, and educational for writers

Embrace The Tropes

The game embraces every trope of fantasy and dungeon-delving games without a single inhibition.  Dungeonmans has dungeons, treasure, towns in need, and everything you’d expect from the umpteenth fantasy adventure game or story.  It doesn’t feel boring or repetitive, because the unoriginality is needed as it’s a parody.

By embracing the tropes, the game meets expectations of gameplay, but also allows it to mock them.  A player gets exactly what they expect in play and story, while also getting to see them taken apart and parodied.  You can’t parody from a distance, you have to embrace it.

Come to think of it, you can’t do anything with a genre without diving in, can you?  Other wise it’s half-baked, whereas Dungeonmans is perfectly prepared.

Explain The Tropes

Good worldbuilding in any story is needed so players understand what’s going on, or think they do.  When you’re playing with tropes, say in a parody game like Dungeonmans you have to explain what’s going on.  The tropes need to be explained as that’s part of the parody – because parody is often taking things to ridiculous lengths or exploring them.

Dungeonmans goes out of the way to explain what’s going on.  Dungeonmans are a recognized profession in a world overrun with monsters and evil.  An Academy was put in place to train such adventurers because they have to come from somewhere.  Some villains you face are even failed heroes, suggesting a kind of “economy of evil.”

The game is thus funnier because of the worldbuilding.  All the things you take for granted in a fantasy game have reasons, reasons both funny and thought-provoking.  Imagining the social and economic implications of professional but expendable monster-killers takes you places like any good story.

Funny Needs Details

Dungeonmans explanations arent’ just broad strokes.  Every item you find or create has a name and text explanation.  What is this wand made of? Why does this ridiculous sword exist?  Is the name of this weapon really twelve words long?  There’s all sorts of little details in the game that make it more interesting and funnier.

Good parody – and any good writing – has those little details that draw you in.   When you’re “in” the world of a story or game, you appreciate it more and feel those chills, thrills – or laughs in the case of parody.  Dungeonmans is filled with these little details, and you might find yourself pausing to read the description of the latest treasure you find.

Into The Depths of Humor

For me, Dungeonmans was the rare experience of a game both funny and engaging.  I kickstarted it, played it at least twice in early access, then once after it was released, and once after many updates.  Every time it was fun, and every time I’d get a good laugh, even with material I’d seen before.  Over these years, I realized these were lessons worth sharing.

Lessons for Writers:

  • If you parody something, embrace the tropes enthusiastically.  That meets expectations while letting you poke fun at the elements you’ve targeted.  You have to know a trope to take it on.
  • Disinhibition is necessary to embrace tropes, or you might do it halfway, and that is often miserable.
  • In parody – or anything involving tropes – you’ll need to explain them.  That makes the world believable, and is even more important in parody or extrapolation.
  • Details matter in any story as they draw the reader in.  They are important for impact – even when the impact is a good laugh.

Steven Savage