The Secret Life of NPCs
So I was playing a console RPG (I do that sometimes), and I found struggling through yet another pointless, canned dialog that is supposed to guide me to whatever I'm supposed to do next. And then something bizarre happened. Or maybe not. I might have been a combination of lack of sleep and a tainted microwave-able meal, but the conversation took a turn for the awesome. And it was highly informative. I learned a lot more about AI-controlled characters in CRPGs than I had ever imagined.

Phlatu Lance, the Shopkeeper: Ah, you must be the Chosen One. Hero, I have a problem. I have no time for my laundry. If you will take my laundry to Mayor Kreppinpanz, he will give you a great reward.

Me: You gotta be kidding me. But okay. Laundry?

Phlatu Lance: Sharing laundry is a very important tradition in our village. After all, have you ever seen villagers around here change their clothes?

Me: Oh. No, I haven't. I see your point. So where can I find the mayor?

Phlatu Lance: You have to wander around aimlessly through our village talking to everyone until you happen to run into him inside his house, which is only slightly bigger than any other house around here. Don't bother knocking, he won't mind you barging in. It's just how things are done.

Me: Can you give me any better directions?

Phlatu Lance: No. But I can't print you off a Google Map. With a streetview picture, if you want.

Me: Cool, I didn't know you could do that!

Phlatu Lance: I've got a printer hidden in that room behind the non-interactive door you can't open.

Me: I always wondered. Hey, speaking of which, where's the nearest save-game thingy?

Phlatu Lance: I'll print off a map to that one. Those are conveniently located just outside of most villages like this one, but often hidden off to the side so that if you miss them, you get killed and have to go through this whole village sequence with pointless fed-ex missions a second time.

Me: Really? You sound like that is a good thing!

Phlatu Lance: Few things give us greater joy than giving Chosen Ones the run-around. And taking their money twice instead of once. And you wouldn't believe the profit-margin on these lame magical trinkets we keep selling you.

Me: Wait! Chosen Ones? Plural?

Phlatu Lance: Based on our sales numbers, we get about a third of a million of you Chosen One types.

Me: Oh. I thought I was special.

Phlatu Lance: Think about it a minute. Laundry missions.

Me: Right. So... uh, about me killing your brother in cold blood right in front of you. You acted like you didn't notice...

Phlatu Lance: Unlike you, he knows where all the save game spots are. We're gonna have another laugh about it fifteen minutes after you are gone to get yourself killed in the woods where our children play safely when you aren't around.

Me: Wow, this really puts things in perspective.

Phlatu Lance: Can I interest you in my wares?

Me: So how do your kids manage to stay safe in goblin-infested woods.

Phlatu Lance: Can I interest you in my wares?

Me: And do you have Google maps of the rest of the w0rld? And when did Google come by to get street views of this village, anyway?

Phlatu Lance: Can I interest you in my wares?

At this point, I'd realized I'd dropped the controller and had that buzzy, confused feeling you get when you just realized that you aren't sure if the teacher had noticed you drooling on your desk while you were out. The on-screen character was calmly giving me his one-sentence sales pitch with no further elaborations on the secret life of NPCs. Maybe some other time...

Labels: Roleplaying Games

- posted by The Rampant Coyote @ 12:14 AM (Permalink)