Oh, my Knee is Aching. Bet There’s a Level 100 Dragon Coming.
Age is not a subject that gets a lot of discussion in games. It might have something to do with the fact that the people that made games have been young themselves, but that’s been changing with time. Still, while age might be used as a setting (playing as a father in That Dragon, Cancer, for instance), it’s not used as a mechanic very often. Some games mention it, but it really goes underused in general.
Well, except for Snake. He got old in MGS4. Damn planned obsolescence.
So, how do games use age? What could they do it that they’re not currently doing? Why would it matter?
Fable, a RPG by chronic-over-promsier Peter Molyneux, is the ultimate example of “oh man, this was so close to being the best thing ever.” Fable was billed as the be-all and end-all of role playing games. You could plant a tree and watch it grow throughout the years. You could kill a child’s parents and the child would grow up and hunt you down for your evil deeds. In reality, it ended up being a charming RPG with enjoyable (if exploitable) mechanics, a fun story, and lackluster expansions.
So much promised potential, so little of it actually there.
One of the few unique things Fable had was its aging mechanic. When you defeat an enemy or complete a quest, you get experience which can be spent to level up a particular attribute, or gain a new spell. Every time you “level up”, you character ages. If you upgrade all of your possible stats, your character ends up being about 65. I found this really odd as kid and, I’ll admit, frustrating. I wanted to be young and powerful, not some old fart. It makes sense though. Age and experience tend to go hand in hand.
I hope I look this good at 65. This guy looks like he could bench press a few mobility scooters, riders included.
The best adventurers might not be the young ones, but the grizzled veterans who know their own strengths and weaknesses. Ageing had no effect on your gameplay, though. You got more powerful as you level up, and you end up as this ridiculously buff old man. The more and more I played it (once I got older), I wanted age to have some kind of effect. It seemed like such a missed opportunity. I’m sure there have been games with ageing mechanics that do effect gameplay, but no mainstream ones, certainly.
The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind is the opposite of Fable in a lot of ways. It’s serious where Fable is cartoonish, complicated where Fable is simplistic, and open where Fable is linear. Though it doesn’t have any kind of age mechanic, ageing plays a certain part in your story. Whenever you level up, you get a short message before you choose how to upgrade your stats. In the beginning, the messages are very upbeat, and almost inspiring.
“You realize that all your life you have been coasting along as if you were in a dream. Suddenly, facing the trials of the last few days, you have come alive.”
Messages like the above can make you realize exactly how much you’ve learned about the game, the enemies you face, and your own abilities. For the first 14 levels, the quotes are about how you’re learning new things, getting stronger, and becoming better. After that, however, they start to take a slightly depressing turn.
“Today you suddenly realized the life you’ve been living, the punishment your body has taken — there are limits to what the body can do, and perhaps you have reached them. You’ve wondered what it is like to grow old. Well, now you know.”
Suddenly, experience becomes something very different. It’s not about getting better anymore; now it’s about clawing to hold onto everything you have learned. There’s a kind of horror that comes with these words, and I think it reflects something very real that people feel about getting older. At some point, you peak. Everything after that is just downhill. No matter how hard you work, struggle, or learn, there will be somebody just as good as your who’s younger. The last unique message you get is at level 20, and it always sends a chill down my spine.
“You’ll never be better than you are today. If you are lucky, by superhuman effort, you can avoid slipping backwards for a while. But sooner or later, you’re going to lose a step, or drop a beat, or miss a detail — and you’ll be gone forever.”
Games aren’t supposed to do this! They’re not supposed to remind me of the fact that I’m not a digital, immortal, all-powerful avatar! It’s a huge break from the usual young man’s power fantasy and incredibly unique in that regard. Unfortunately, the one thing that Fable and Morrowind share is the toothless nature of their ageing mechanics. Nothing happens to your character despite these messages. You’re the same at level 1 as you are at level 20. Another missed opportunity from a great game.
I think ageing is a really good area to explore in games. As games have changed, they have moved from simpler tales to more complex ideas, like love, sacrifice, family, and grief. I think it would be great if you had a game that could paint a picture of what it means to grow older. What if you could play a Viking, once greatly renowned in your town for your ferocity in battle and your bravery, who has to deal with the fact that your axe gets harder to pick up each day? Would you still go out on raiding expeditions, knowing that your chances of coming back from each one get smaller and smaller? Would you be able to face the sneers of your village for your “cowardice”, or would you face your death? What about a game that starts you at your adventuring peak, and you decide to open a school to train new adventurers? Could you stomach sending young souls off on dangerous quests without going yourself? Do you have a duty to your own thirst for adventure, or to train the next generation? There’s a lot of territory here to cover, and I’m interested to see if any developers think so as well.
Ageing is a powerful sort of thing, but it’s also interactive in a way. You feel it when you get older. You get new creaks and aches, and things don’t work as well. I think games are a really good area to explore what this is like, because they can put limitations on a player. “No, you can’t do a triple backflip slice with that greatsword anymore. You’re 50. Why don’t you try a sensible slash instead?” We’ll see where things go, but I think age is a fruit ripe for picking.