Most of the role-playing games I've talked about on this site have been narrative-driven, linear affairs. There's nothing wrong with this, and I've mentioned before that the appeal of these kinds of games is inheriting a role- being an active participant in a story. If this is the reason you play these kinds of games, you have an incentive for engaging in combat on a regular basis- you need to be strong enough to take on the next foe, so that you can progress the story, etc etc. The most frequent method of incentivizing a player is by crafting engaging narratives and allowing them to inherit a crucial role in the narrative. This leads a player to want to discover more from a narrative perspective, rather than through compelling gameplay. This is not to say that this model cannot have compelling gameplay- it largely depends on the sorts of organic progression the developers place in their way, as well as combat motifs and core mechanics.
However, this can often present a conflict of interest, where players weigh the risk and reward found in combat with that of the satisfaction that comes with story progression. Players must risk venturing into a dungeon in order to defeat the boss and progress the story. How do they weigh their degree of preparation for this kind of task? How powerful do they need to be in order to overcome the challenge and smoothly reach the next narrative beat? Are the game’s systems designed for this sort of progression? To elaborate, there is a vocal division of role-playing enthusiasts who claim that random-encounter mechanics are an archaic in nature. This has caused a number of developers to include encounter and experience scaling in order to make the narrative progression smoother. My personal opinion on the matter is: if battles were enjoyable enough and the game’s motifs and mechanics were in order, random encounters themselves could be justified and never become tedious. The risk of an encounter would be a reward, in itself.
This is why I tend to emphasize gameplay over narrative in my own analysis. My view is, any game that is worth mentioning has good enough storytelling to check out. Within the context of a spoiler-averse society, however, I feel it is safer, albeit more important to focus upon the aspect that provides the most tactile and interactive portion of the experience. My articles may not delve deeply into narrative structure, however, as a writer and avid reader, this may perhaps be a subject worth exploring in the future.
One might argue whether or not a role-playing game can exist without a strong narrative. While older games in the genre were meant to replicate the mechanics of tabletop games, they succeeded well enough without overly complex narratives. In this day and age, however, can a gameplay-driven RPG exist? Though most would cite action-RPGs as the answer to this question, there is another examplar to be found in Atlus’ Etrian Odyssey series. With the exception of its more recent remakes, narrative is not the main draw of this series of titles, even if each one does possess a light framing device. The way Etrian Odyssey incentivizes risk and reward is primarily built into the core mechanics of the title, namely it’s cartography-based exploration, stringent loot-cycling, and guild mechanics. Simply put, the way these mechanics harmonize is crucial in understanding Etrian Odyssey’s identity and momentum.
First, it is important to acknowledge the series’ guild system. The player has no specific avatar, simply acting as a guild leader, organizing parties and sending them out to explore labyrinths. Parties are comprised of five different members with classes- these can be multiple characters of the same class or a variety used to create combinations of unique traits. While players may encounter certain events and vignettes within labyrinths, they are not given much character development- the only incentive of the guild leader is to explore.
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This exploration is embedded into the series’ cartography mechanic, which tasks players with creating the map of the labyrinth as they traverse it. While many games rely on unique environments, memorable set pieces and gimmicks, or a certain brevity to their dungeon design, each floor of Etrian Odyssey’s labyrinths is purposefully and delightfully complex, giving the player a certain degree of spatial awareness enhanced by purposeful map design. Since the goal of the game is to explore, it only makes sense that the player log this exploration themselves. In a way, this justifies the encounter system, as wildlife is set to impede the amount of exploration the player is able to achieve in a single visit.
The economy is largely based upon player investment and cartography, as well. Gathering spots that replenish every in-game day can be found throughout labyrinths, offering materials for crafting items and equipment, and every enemy drop can be sold for similar purposes as well as cash itself. The player cannot remain within the labyrinth on an infinite loop- they will eventually run out of inventory space, HP, or TP, the units used to cast skills, and so they must develop a cycle of gathering and exploration if they wish to push further into the labyrinth. It is no accident that the cartography symbols allow marks for gathering spots as well as automatic movement- should a player wish to travel efficiently from area to area and collect materials while they ready themselves to venture to new areas of the labyrinth. If they are lucky, they may be able to spend an entire day within, allowing them to collect the reset gathering spots.
Floors of the labyrinth- and even subsections of those floors- can develop their own traversal and combat gimmicks, thanks to the mapping system and the series’ miniboss mechanic, F.O.E. monsters. These are constant threats on maps that move in specific ways and are much more powerful than regular enemies. The player risks encountering and attempting to familiarize themselves with new gimmicks and F.O.E.s as they discover more of each floor, all while having to deal with the semi-randomized encounter system. The best method of describing each small victory within Etrian Odyssey that further contributes to exploration is best summarized with the idea of a positive feedback loop, as players slowly but surely fall into a routine of discovery, collection, equipping, and conquering as they continue through the labyrinth. All with relatively little inclusion of a central narrative.
Etrian Odyssey was designed with the intention that players would lose themselves in exploration, eventually developing their own voices and characters for each of their party members as they progressed through the labyrinth. Because of its grid-based design and emphasis on gameplay, it is considered one of the more niche of Atlus’ franchises, though that hasn’t stopped it from accumulating five numbered entries, two remakes, and a spin-off. It may not appeal to all fans, especially those who value narrative in their role-playing games. However, it is perhaps one of the best models for how multiple systems can contribute towards and benefit from an extremely specific incentive, one that uses the basic foundations of the genre in order to create a pure and hardcore gameplay experience. Most importantly, it exhibits some of the best player-incentive risk and reward found in the entire genre, one where rote can be established in concept, but never really achieved, thanks to the constant challenge present.
It’s also very hard.
Are you an Etrian Odyssey fan? Which entry is your favorite? Do you prefer synth tracks? Feel free to leave a comment or pose a question below. As always, I encourage discussion of these articles and hope that readers can either offer their own experience and examples. If you like what you’ve read, please share and subscribe for future articles!
However, this can often present a conflict of interest, where players weigh the risk and reward found in combat with that of the satisfaction that comes with story progression. Players must risk venturing into a dungeon in order to defeat the boss and progress the story. How do they weigh their degree of preparation for this kind of task? How powerful do they need to be in order to overcome the challenge and smoothly reach the next narrative beat? Are the game’s systems designed for this sort of progression? To elaborate, there is a vocal division of role-playing enthusiasts who claim that random-encounter mechanics are an archaic in nature. This has caused a number of developers to include encounter and experience scaling in order to make the narrative progression smoother. My personal opinion on the matter is: if battles were enjoyable enough and the game’s motifs and mechanics were in order, random encounters themselves could be justified and never become tedious. The risk of an encounter would be a reward, in itself.
This is why I tend to emphasize gameplay over narrative in my own analysis. My view is, any game that is worth mentioning has good enough storytelling to check out. Within the context of a spoiler-averse society, however, I feel it is safer, albeit more important to focus upon the aspect that provides the most tactile and interactive portion of the experience. My articles may not delve deeply into narrative structure, however, as a writer and avid reader, this may perhaps be a subject worth exploring in the future.
One might argue whether or not a role-playing game can exist without a strong narrative. While older games in the genre were meant to replicate the mechanics of tabletop games, they succeeded well enough without overly complex narratives. In this day and age, however, can a gameplay-driven RPG exist? Though most would cite action-RPGs as the answer to this question, there is another examplar to be found in Atlus’ Etrian Odyssey series. With the exception of its more recent remakes, narrative is not the main draw of this series of titles, even if each one does possess a light framing device. The way Etrian Odyssey incentivizes risk and reward is primarily built into the core mechanics of the title, namely it’s cartography-based exploration, stringent loot-cycling, and guild mechanics. Simply put, the way these mechanics harmonize is crucial in understanding Etrian Odyssey’s identity and momentum.
First, it is important to acknowledge the series’ guild system. The player has no specific avatar, simply acting as a guild leader, organizing parties and sending them out to explore labyrinths. Parties are comprised of five different members with classes- these can be multiple characters of the same class or a variety used to create combinations of unique traits. While players may encounter certain events and vignettes within labyrinths, they are not given much character development- the only incentive of the guild leader is to explore.
The economy is largely based upon player investment and cartography, as well. Gathering spots that replenish every in-game day can be found throughout labyrinths, offering materials for crafting items and equipment, and every enemy drop can be sold for similar purposes as well as cash itself. The player cannot remain within the labyrinth on an infinite loop- they will eventually run out of inventory space, HP, or TP, the units used to cast skills, and so they must develop a cycle of gathering and exploration if they wish to push further into the labyrinth. It is no accident that the cartography symbols allow marks for gathering spots as well as automatic movement- should a player wish to travel efficiently from area to area and collect materials while they ready themselves to venture to new areas of the labyrinth. If they are lucky, they may be able to spend an entire day within, allowing them to collect the reset gathering spots.
Floors of the labyrinth- and even subsections of those floors- can develop their own traversal and combat gimmicks, thanks to the mapping system and the series’ miniboss mechanic, F.O.E. monsters. These are constant threats on maps that move in specific ways and are much more powerful than regular enemies. The player risks encountering and attempting to familiarize themselves with new gimmicks and F.O.E.s as they discover more of each floor, all while having to deal with the semi-randomized encounter system. The best method of describing each small victory within Etrian Odyssey that further contributes to exploration is best summarized with the idea of a positive feedback loop, as players slowly but surely fall into a routine of discovery, collection, equipping, and conquering as they continue through the labyrinth. All with relatively little inclusion of a central narrative.
Etrian Odyssey was designed with the intention that players would lose themselves in exploration, eventually developing their own voices and characters for each of their party members as they progressed through the labyrinth. Because of its grid-based design and emphasis on gameplay, it is considered one of the more niche of Atlus’ franchises, though that hasn’t stopped it from accumulating five numbered entries, two remakes, and a spin-off. It may not appeal to all fans, especially those who value narrative in their role-playing games. However, it is perhaps one of the best models for how multiple systems can contribute towards and benefit from an extremely specific incentive, one that uses the basic foundations of the genre in order to create a pure and hardcore gameplay experience. Most importantly, it exhibits some of the best player-incentive risk and reward found in the entire genre, one where rote can be established in concept, but never really achieved, thanks to the constant challenge present.
It’s also very hard.
Are you an Etrian Odyssey fan? Which entry is your favorite? Do you prefer synth tracks? Feel free to leave a comment or pose a question below. As always, I encourage discussion of these articles and hope that readers can either offer their own experience and examples. If you like what you’ve read, please share and subscribe for future articles!
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