These are thoughts / anecdotes behind the development of each level. Beware - there are SPOILERS. You're encouraged to play through the level once or twice before reading these. No, really, SPOILER ALERT. Don't read any further if you haven't played the respective level yet.
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I conceptualized and built Polaris in about 2 weeks, back in January 2009. Then it was 5 months of on-and-off testing and polishing. It's probably the most personal level in this pack, inspired by a good ol' dose of young unrequited love and romantic troubles.
It was the second "fivetwelve" I made, a personal challenge to make a small self-contained level within an area of 512 x 512 units (the real world equivalent of 40 x 40 feet). Most of my levels spiral out of control when I decide to keep extending onto hallways and adding additional rooms, so this size limit helped me focus on the game mechanics. Originally, I planned Polaris as a giant sprawling forest, and you use the stars to navigate through it - except I prototyped a giant forest and the result wasn't very interesting, and I found I had no control over the player to teach them the required skills.
All first person shooters consists of two basic verbs: looking and moving. Mirror's Edge brought on a lot of discussion about the "moving" aspect of an FPS, and it seems we're headed towards some holy grail of body awareness with that - but what about the "looking" aspect? (To my knowledge, no one other than Valve pays attention as to how to go about directing the player's gaze, whether through Alyx being blinded by a flashlight, NPCs pointing, or birds flying somewhere.) The "looking" verb usually has no cost associated with it, no power - it is a passive action on the part of the player. So how about we attach some more significance to the act of looking in an FPS? Can "looking at stuff" be fun too? In an FPS, shooting and looking are basically the same verb anyway.
That's where stargazing comes in. It's still passive... and to many, it's still boring. Which leads me to what I consider my failures in Polaris - it's not very "fun" and the tasks and instructions are still very game-like. "Do this. Look at that. Do that." It's all basically one big tutorial level until the end, when Dylan disappears and the player finally has to make a decision for himself. Originally I had less overt instruction, and it was embedded within the text of the narrative more - but playtesters would get confused. "Do I click on the Big Dipper?" So yes, my biggest regret about Polaris is the "game" part.
I'm also interested in education as a career, so one thing I'm doing with Radiator is demonstrating how I think educational games should be built: you incorporate the skill directly into a "regular" video game. You learn how to find north with the stars by running into a situation where you need it. (The Big Dipper method taught in Polaris actually works in real-life throughout the Northern Hemisphere, by the way.) You learn arithmetic by calculating the optimal DPS for your character in World of Warcraft. You learn about history and economics by playing Civilization 4 and realizing that mercantilism is impractical in the late game and how global trade is just so much better... What you don't do is digitize some flash cards and sell a glorified Powerpoint presentation as an educational game, as much of the educational game industry is doing today because that doesn't let you model or test understanding and thus it fails as education.
But I think I had the most success in establishing mood. It's relatively quiet and somber - and this comes through in the endings. There are three: (1) You leave early, perhaps even a minute into the game. The narrator regrets not staying. (2) You go north, where Dylan confesses he doesn't really "believe" in stargazing so much as its romantic power. The narrator goes home with him and they break up. (3) You don't go north, and Dylan calls you a bitch, and you break up... One playtester lamented that he wasn't able to reach the "good" ending - and I think that's a false promise offered in many games. In real-life you might do the "right thing" all the time and you're lucky if you get good results from it. Plus, I was still kind of pissed off about how my last semi-relationship ended, so I wanted to make something pessimistic.
