Max Payne. Elite Force. Thief. Ico. Deus Ex. Oddworld. Medal of Honor. Baldur's Gate. The more recent Final Fantasy games. More and more game designers are pushing the envelope, forging new entertainment experiences and art forms which draw on traditional gaming but also partake of story-telling and characterization.

As the production values in games continue to soar, the trend to have equal advances in story-telling is inevitable. For game designers involved in creating each successive advancement, these are exciting times.

Remember when Braveheart (Mel Gibson) would charge into battle, holding a handkerchief given to him by his wife, before she was murdered? That handkerchief is a symbol. This article will explore four separate ways of using symbols to evoke emotions. But first, let's look at some of the fundamental issues relating to emotion in games.

Why put emotion into games with stories?

This is an important discussion, and probably one that deserves its own article. But, in a nutshell, other than the inherent joys of creating a rich work of art, I believe the reasons boil down to potential profits.

Specifically: (1) There are many more people who watch film and television than play games. Most will never be lured into playing games until games begin to offer the emotional range and depth of the entertainment they're used to enjoying; (2) A more involving game experience means better word of mouth or "buzz"; (3) The press likes to write about these games, which means more sales; (4) The better game visuals get and the more games look like films, the more we'll instinctively compare them to films. Thus weak writing and shallow emotional experiences will increasingly "stand out" in games featuring stories and characters; and (5) There are certain game developers working hard to advance emotion in gaming. Those creating games with stories and characters but not "on the bandwagon" will find themselves further and further behind, and their games will be eclipsed.

Screenwriting VS. Game Writing

Screenwriters, deprived of the game designer's ability to actually insert an audience into a film, have figured out perhaps a thousand other ways to induce emotional involvement. Game designers will want to test the applicability of these techniques to their new games, as well as modify them so they'll work within an interactive experience.

Writing Outside of Conscious Awareness

No one expects the game player to pick out every sound used in a game's sound design, nor every instrument utilized in a piece of music, nor notice every tiny shadow. So too, an extraordinary amount of what a writer does is designed to emotionally affect a game player, but not be consciously noticed. This article will focus on the use of symbols, which are almost always employed in a way so that they're just on the edge of or, preferably, just outside of a game player's conscious awareness.

A workable rule of thumb is that no more than 25% of the gamers who come upon a symbol should be consciously aware that it actually is a symbol.

The Five Arenas of "Deepening":

I use the phrase "deepening techniques" to describe all those writing techniques which impart a sense of depth to (1) a piece of dialogue, (2) a character, (3) a relationship between two or more characters, (4) a scene, or (4) a plot. Other words which mean something similar to "deepening" include: "poignancy," "soulfulness," "layers" "emotional or psychological complexity," etc. When people are talking about these things, they're talking about what I call emotional "deepening."

Symbols are always a "deepening" tool.

Cart or Horse?

A game designer who has taken some of my story and writing workshops pointed out that to focus on more subtle or "advanced" techniques like symbols is putting the cart before the horse - when so many game designers might benefit from learning techniques for creating rich, dimensional, and compelling characters and naturalistic dialogue. This is true. But one nice thing about symbols is that, with very little effort, you can easily and precisely enhance the emotional "depth" of your scenes and plots. So yes, tackling advanced techniques like this is putting the cart before the horse. But honestly, how many game designers really want a horse?

Symbols and Emotion

When you create a symbol, you're not trying to create an intellectual "puzzle," where the gamer tries to "figure out" what the symbol means. Such an intellectual exercise would work directly counter to the goal of increasing emotional immersion.

Instead, symbols, when employed artfully, should evoke emotions - even though, when you do your work well, most of the gamers won't consciously notice the symbols you use. It's not necessary for a gamer to notice a symbol in order to be emotionally affected by it.

It's certainly all right that a small percentage of gamers who consciously notice your symbol might stop and think about the symbol's meaning or meanings. This is only acceptable if, at the same time, the symbol generates in them an emotional experience too. Follow the guidelines in this article and that should be what happens.

"Useable Symbols"

Games often offer an opportunity that films do not. In film, symbols, when used artfully, enhance emotional depth. As we'll see, in games, they can not only do this, but can often be used or given a function in game-play as well.

Symbol Type #1 - "Symbol of a Character's Condition or Change in Condition," - Either Visual or Verbal:

This use of symbols is a "Scene Deepening Technique" because you use it in a specific scene, and might never use the same symbol again.

To use this type of symbol, you have either (1) something visual on screen, or (2) something said by one of the characters which reflects what one of the characters on screen is going through emotionally.

Example #1 - Visual:

There was an episode of "Star Trek - Voyager" in which Captain Janeway (Kate Mulgrew) finds herself in extended battle with the captain of a rogue Federation ship. The captain and crew of that ship are killing harmless aliens in order to use the chemicals in the aliens' bodies to propel their ship. But Janeway herself becomes so obsessed with stopping that captain, at whatever cost, that she even crosses the bounds of ethics and good judgment, and imperils her crew. This generates a series of arguments with Chakotay (Robert Beltran), her First Officer.

A metal plate or plaque, with the words (as I recall) "U.S.S. Voyager" falls off a Voyager bulkhead during one battle with the rogue ship. This plaque is a symbol that the spiritual core of Voyager - i.e. the moral codes of the Federation, the Starfleet tradition of honor and humanity, and the moral center of people who uphold these codes and traditions - have been damaged. It's a "Symbol of Janeway's and Chakotay's Condition or Change in Condition."

The plaque falling off the bulkhead affects us emotionally. If people only make an intellectual connection between the plaque and the abandoned Federation values, then the writer hasn't been artful enough in his or her creation of the symbol.

Example #2 - Visual:

A war film that won many academy awards in 1957, and which still stands up as a masterpiece, was "Bridge on the River Kwai." Alec Guiness plays Colonel Nicholson, who commands a group of British soldiers captured by the Japanese and forced to work like slaves in a POW camp in Burma. I won't reiterate the convoluted plot, but suffice to say, due to his ego, Guiness has his men help the Japanese build a strong and beautiful bridge. In effect, he has helped the enemy. But, near the very end of the film, during a battle at the bridge, he has a powerful realization, and says, "What have I done? "

At that exact moment he reaches up and touches his commander's cap. This is the "Symbol of a Character's Condition or Change of Condition." His touching the cap is a symbol of his changing back to becoming what he once was - an honorable British soldier.

An explosion goes off nearby and he is knocked to the ground, wounded from the shrapnel. When he stands up, his cap lies on the ground, but he's too dazed to immediately see this. He reaches for the top of his head and realizes that the cap is gone. Guiness then bends down and picks it up off the ground. His reaching toward his head for the cap, and then his picking it up off the ground, again is the same "Symbol of a Character's Condition or Change of Condition," signifying that he's become the honorable man he once was.

He puts his conversion immediately into action, for, as he dies from the shrapnel that had hit him just a moment before, he directs his fall onto the dynamite detonator, which in turn blows up the bridge he had so painstakingly caused to be built.

As was the case with the "Voyager" example, most people in the audience wouldn't consciously notice this. And yet it would still contribute to the depth of their emotional experience. It's sort of a strange moment when, as a writer, you realize that a great deal your art involves trying to create emotional effects that won't be consciously perceived, perhaps ever, by anyone. But, on the other hand, it's not as strange as the expression on your parents' face when you first tell them you're going to devote your life to videogames.

Example #3 - Verbal:

Perhaps you saw the provocative film "American Beauty." Wes Bentley plays the character Ricky Fitts. He's a teen without fear of teen social pressures, and an appreciation of the beauty all around him. He seems, in some ways, to be "enlightened."

Contradicting his supposed enlightenment is the fact that he sells drugs, is completely emotionally detached, and is fascinated by death. In fact, his veneer of serenity is, in what I call a "Mask," or false front. ("Masks," in all their various forms, are very sophisticated "Character Deepening" techniques).

At a certain point in the film, Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) drops by on Ricky to buy some dope - especially the really potent type he had smoked with Bentley a few nights earlier. Ricky pulls out a bag of the stuff and explains that it's "...top of the line. It's called G-13. Genetically engineered by the U.S. Government. Extremely potent. But a completely mellow high, no paranoia."

Why is this a verbal "Symbol of a Character's Condition or Change of Condition"? Because Ricky, unknowingly, has just described himself. Ricky used to be a passionate young man, until his father, as punishment, had him committed him to a mental institution for two years, where he was heavily drugged. This experience broke his spirit. So Ricky himself has been "government engineered," and his fake serenity (his "Mask") is that of a "completely mellow high." But like all chemical "highs," it's not real.

Example #4 - Verbal:

Sometimes, in the television business, you need to write a sample script just to show you can adapt your writing style to different shows. I recently wrote a sample "X-Files" script. In the story, Mulder no longer fits in professionally with Scully and Doggett. He had always been driven in his paranormal quests by the search for the truth about his missing sister. But, with that case solved last season, in this current script he no longer has a dream or ambition to push him forward.

In the middle of a conversation with Scully, Doggett, and Skinner, Mulder notices Skinner's office clock. Checking it against his own watch, he says, "Is that clock right?"

No one responds to the question - the conversation merely proceeds. (Quite frequently, in dialogue, not every statement or question gets a response.) Why the "throw-away" line about the clock? It's a "Symbol of Mulder's Condition or Change in Condition." In this case, it symbolizes that he's out of sync, or out of step with all the others. In effect, his time has passed.

Will anyone reading the script consciously or seeing Mulder say the line note it? Unlikely, any more than they would note the line by Wes Bentley in "American Beauty" about the government-engineered pot. As with the other examples, the symbol operates outside the audience's conscious awareness.

Game Example

In the game "Ico," a boy in a different land or perhaps on a different planet helps lead a beautiful girl with mystical powers out of a towering castle where both of them are trapped. He bravely overcomes many terrifying obstacles in his journey, which is more focused on freeing the girl than himself.

Near the very end he gets a magical sword which crackles with a kind of "spiritual electricity." This is a "Symbol of the Boy's Condition or Change in Condition." It symbolizes that he's attained a level of power (the demonic creatures that used to attack him now flee him and the sword). And it symbolizes that he now belongs with the girl, for the "spiritual electricity" the sword exudes looks exactly like the mystical energy which the girl can wield when she needs to, and has the same magical abilities.

Since the boy uses the sword to accomplish his final tasks, this is a Usable Symbol, serving "double duty": working to deepen the emotional experience, but also playing a role in game-play.

Hypothetical Game Example #1

Let's say, in a sword-and-sorcery game, during a fight to save some villagers, the wisest and most beloved village elder is killed. The villagers are stunned. The symbol: A cloud could pass in front of the sun at that point, throwing a shadow over the village (during either a cinematic or game-play). It would symbolize the villagers' sadness -- and perhaps yours as well, if you had found the old man endearing (which you would have, if the character was rich enough and the dialogue excelled).

Hypothetical Game Example #2

Maybe, after great effort and many struggles and battles, you attain the highest rank a warrior can achieve. The symbol: At that moment an eagle flies diagonally overhead in the sky. It's a symbol of your lofty attainment.

To reiterate: it doesn't matter if no one consciously notices the impact of these symbols. They deepen the experience nonetheless.

Symbol Type #2 - "Symbolic Subplot"

Usually, in a story, at least one of the characters (although sometimes more) has what I call an "emotional fear, limitation, block, or wound." Quite often this person is the lead character, although not necessarily.

Some examples: In the first "Star Wars," Luke Skywalker had to learn who he was (a Jedi knight); Han Solo had to learn to become a group member (instead of operating "solo"), and also had to learn responsibility; Princes Leia had to learn to be vulnerable in love, Obi-Wan had to learn he could still make a difference, and C-3PO had to learn courage.

Each of these characters was forced to their differing "fears, limitations, blocks, and wounds" (FLBWs for short).

Usually the character doesn't know he or she has a FLBW. If you pointed it out, they'd probably disagree. In short, they're usually oblivious. It's unlikely, for instance, that Han would agree if, at the start of the film, you accused him of being unable to function as part of a team. It's unlikely Luke would agree if, at the start of the film, you accused him of having no idea who he was.

A character's path of growth through their FLBW is a rocky one; quite often the character will resist growing. A character's rocky path of growth through his or FLBW is called his or her "Character Arc."

In many stories, some of the most compelling emotional moments are wrapped around a character wrestling with, and eventually growing through, their emotional fear, limitation, block, or wound.

Some writers insert a symbol into the story which represents the character's arc. That is, as the character changes and grows, the symbol changes right along with them.

A "Symbolic Subplot" is a plot deepening technique, since it continues throughout all or most of the plot (unlike the "Symbol of the Character's Condition or Change in Condition," which just occurs in one scene, or in just a small part of the plot).

Example #1:In the new Star Trek series, "Enterprise," one of the crew, Ensign Hoshi Sato (Linda Park) is a woman with extraordinary linguistic abilities. In one of the early episodes, she's having a hard time adapting to life on a star ship. She wants to go home, back to earth. (Sissy.)

She has brought a pet along with her - a yellow slug. And the slug isn't doing well aboard the ship. Environmental conditions threaten its health.

By the end of the episode, after discovering how much the crew needs her, she has made her peace with being in space. She drops the slug off on an earth-like planet, where it will survive just fine.

Thus the slug is a "Symbolic Subplot." The slug not doing well in space = her not doing well in space. The slug being put on a new planet and doing well there = her surviving and thriving away from earth.

With a "Symbolic Subplot," you can know how the character is doing in their character arc, just by checking up on what's happening with the symbol.

Operating Outside of Conscious Awareness: Just as was the case with "Symbol of a Character's Condition or Change in Condition," a "Symbolic Subplot" may or may not be noticed by the audience or gamer.

Let's go back to the example from the "Enterprise" episode. In this case, unlike most, we are quite aware that the slug is a "Symbolic Subplot," for the doctor on board the ship even points this out to Hoshi. That is, while speaking to her, he compares her difficulties to that of the slug.

This violates the guideline of having the "Symbolic Subplot" operate just outside most people's conscious awareness. In my opinion, this was a mistake. I think the slithering slimy slug symbol would have generated more emotion if it hadn't been pointed out to the audience. "Look, here's a symbol" is usually not the best way to go. However, as every writer knows, to every guideline there are always successful exceptions.

Example #2: "Wonder Boys", set in the world of academia, might not have been a film that everyone reading this article has seen. So I'll describe an interesting "Symbolic Subplot" used effectively in that film:

Michael Douglas, who wrote a great novel decades ago, plays a washed-up creative writing teacher at a prestigious liberal arts college. His life's a mess. He's depressed, and has been working forever on a sprawling novel which he hasn't shown.

The "Symbolic Subplot" is the novel he's working on. The novel = his life. We learn that the he's been working on the book for decades. Then we learn it's a sprawling jumble, with plot-lines going off in all direction but no focus (just like his life). It's comprised of tons of details without a unifying thread (just like his life).

Further along in the film, the pages of his manuscript - the only copy he has - are blown to the wind (symbolic of his life falling apart). Later still, when someone asks him what the novel was about, he can't answer - meaning he has no idea what his life is about. By the end, once he feels his life assumes meaning and direction again, he starts a new novel. This one has power and focus.

Using this Technique in Games

Trying to build in a Character Arc for your player opens up a can of worms -- unless your worms are in a vat, in which case this opens up a worm-vat. For in a "Symbolic Subplot," the changes in the symbol reflect the changes your character undergoes as he or she progresses through the rocky path of his or her Character Arc.

And how do you have a character go through a Character Arc when that character is the player himself or herself?

This question takes us right to the cutting edge of story-based games. To explore all the ways game designers are tackling this problem, or could tackle this problem, would be an article in itself, if not several. Furthermore, it opens up another problem: on one hand, how do you tempt a player into seeing themselves in a role and making decisions appropriate to that role - while, on the other hand, letting the player play the game the way he or she wants to? So you can see the how big the worm-vat actually is.

Still, this is one direction that story-based games are moving. For instance, let's take action-adventure Star Trek game "Elite Force." The game tries to create a Character Arc for Alex, the character you're playing (what I call a "first person character arc", since the person who's supposed to undergo emotional change is you, the player).

The attempt to cast you into Alex's character, and have you experience "character growth" during the story, is done through a variety of methods, such as (1) observing your character's behavior and speech during cinematics, (2) seeing how other characters respond to you and what they say to you when you walk up to them, (3) hearing words come out of your own mouth (what I call "self auto-talk"), spoken in Alex's voice and with his personality, and (4) your changing responsibilities as the game progresses.

While "first person character arcs" like this are a fascinating and critical area of discussion, I'll bring it back to where we began. How can a "Symbolic Subplot" be used to "deepen" a plot by echoing a player's "first-person character arc"?

Let's say that in your game the gamer plays a samurai swordsman. He's a master of many weapons. Armed with a full range of finely-honed steel instruments of death and sushi cutlery, he leaves his samurai Master's training to rescue his Master's niece from an evil warlord. This mission will start a much bigger plot in motion.

The obvious Character Arc is to have the character (the player) go from being a novice swordsman to being a master himself or herself. Since this is the obvious one, let's toss it out. As I often tell my writing students, when it comes to characters, lines of dialogue, scenes, or plots, a good general guideline is, "Find the cliché - then throw it away." (This also means that the "Master" had best not be a cliché "wise Asian" character either.)

So let's make your character's arc to: "attaining a spiritual connection to the universe." This was the arc undergone by the Karate Kid. He wins his final fight in the movie not because he's stronger, not because he's better at karate, and not because he's more courageous. By the end of the film, he achieves an understated spiritual connection to the universe, as symbolized, or demonstrated, by his ability to easily maintain the "crane" pose, standing on one foot with his other foot tucked under him and his arms extended.

In your game, as your character attains spiritual wisdom or abilities, perhaps the world will start looking different in some way. Perhaps he'll be able to do extraordinary moves similar to those by the fighters in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon."

Could you give this character arc a Symbolic Subplot?

Hypothetical Game Example #1:Perhaps your Master has given you a sword. It makes a harsh, ringing noise when you swing it. But, as you progress along your Character Arc, the noise becomes more and more beautiful and harmonic.

Hypothetical Game Example #2: Maybe you recharge your life force by returning to a little, beautiful bamboo meditation hut suspended over a small stream. In the beginning of the game, the stream is muddy. But, as you progress along your character arc, the stream gets clearer and clearer.

In either of these two examples, the gamer might or might not notice the change in the symbol. Which is just what you generally want: for your "Symbolic Subplot" to work just at the edge of the player's conscious awareness, or just outside of it.

Turning these into "Usable Symbols" in Game-Play:With the first example, perhaps it's when your sword makes its most beautiful, harmonic sound that something extraordinary happens. There's an old, frail man in the village who, in fact, is much more than the peasant he seems to be. When he hears that beautiful sound, he knows you're spiritually ready -- and gives you some special weapon, amulet, potion, or secret that aids you as you struggle to accomplish your final and most dangerous task.

Or, taking a cue from "Ico," perhaps it's only when the sword makes this beautiful sound that it's fully "charged" and able to be useful against your most formidable and final enemy.

You could also find a way to turn the river (the second example) into a Usable Symbol. Maybe it was your Master who built the meditation hut over the river, and imbued it with magic of which you're unaware. Let's say your Master dies along the course of the game. But, when you attain your Character Arc and the stream becomes clear, your Master's face can be seen in the river and he gives you advice crucial to accomplishing your final task.

I don't think a symbol needs to be actually used in game-play to justify its being there, for it's main purpose is to enhance the depth of the emotional experience. However, it's obviously a great situation when it can also function as an element of game-play.

Game Example

In the game "Aidyn Chronicles: The First Mage," one of the close friends to the character you play is an NPC who's a reluctant Knight. Though the Knight has sworn off the violence of battle, he's continuously forced to fight for his king, for honor, and to support an honorable cause. He carries a pole bearing a flag or banner of the kingdom he serves. As a tool of game-play, the banner has certain protective functions.

But it often gets ripped in battle - symbolizing how the Knight's heart is "torn" every time he violates his decision to abstain from fighting. Furthermore, the banner, when torn, prompts discussions by the Knight and those around him as to the ethics of his fighting in battle vs. being a man of peace. The banner is a "Symbolic Subplot," indicating how, at any given moment, the Knight is doing as he wrestles with the decision to be, or not to be, a warrior.

This is one of those examples where a symbol serves "double duty." Not only does it deepen the emotional experience, but it also is a Usable Symbol, as it has a function in game-play.

Symbol Type #3 - Foreshadowing:Here's another "Plot Deepening Technique" in that, though it only appears in one specific scene, it prepares us for something coming later in the plot. In foreshadowing, once again you're creating a symbol that usually operates outside the conscious awareness of the gamer or audience. The symbol, or what occurs to the symbol, suggests something which will occur later in the story to one of your main characters - usually something bad.

Example: In the film "Shawshank Redemption," Tim Robbins is a man who has been unjustly sent to prison. There he runs afoul of the warden, and the two become enemies. Later in the film, a another man is sent to the prison who has information which could clear Robbins. The warden finds out about this and asks the man to step out with him into the prison yard at night. The warden grills the new prisoner, who confirms his knowledge of information which could help Robbins.

The Warden, finished, tosses his cigarette on the ground and steps on it to put it out. He walks away - and the prisoner is shot from an unseen source in a guard tower.

The extinguishing of the cigarette was the foreshadowing that the prisoner, or at least the information he had, was going to be snuffed out. It's emotional: it gives us an ominous feeling when we see it happen.

Hypothetical Game Example: Let's go back to our samurai swordsman. Your Master has a banzai tree which is 150 years old - cultivated, and handed down to him by his own Master who is long since deceased. You Master has used the careful cultivation of the small tree to perfect his patience.

Then, during either a cinematic or during game-play, the villain destroys the tree. This would "foreshadow" the fact that your Master is going to get killed.

The banzai tree could be turned into a Usable Symbol, with a function in game-play, if its magic could heal you when you're injured or restore your life force when depleted. Thus its destruction would not just foreshadow your Master's death; it would also affect game-play by depriving you of a source of healing and thus increasing your jeopardy.

Symbol Type #4 - "A Symbol Which Takes on More and More Emotional Associations" - Either Visual or Verbal

This is another plot deepening technique, as it too tends to extend throughout an entire plot. It can either be an object, or a verbal phrase. This type is symbol can be seen in the American flag. What does the flag "mean?" It means a lot of things - democracy; courage; the right to live the life you choose; freedom of speech, thought, and religion; a nation ruled by law; "Yankee ingenuity," and more.

Remember, when we look at the flag, we don't intellectually "think" of all these meanings. They're more of like "emotional experiences" we associate with the flag. When we see the flag, we feel those emotional associations.

Symbols shouldn't make you "think" - they should evoke feelings. Or, if they do make you think, they should also evoke emotions.

When a symbol reappears over and over again during emotionally charged moments, some of the emotion "rubs off" on the symbol and the symbol literally "takes on more and more emotional associations."

Visual Example:In the film "Braveheart," Mel Gibson plays William Wallace, an historic revolutionary leader in Scotland.

There's an interesting symbol used throughout the film - a thistle, and, as was mentioned at the start of this article, a handkerchief with a picture of a thistle sewn into it. This symbol (the thistle and the handkerchief with a thistle) takes on more and more emotional associations as the film goes along.

When Wallace is small, a little girl, Murron (yes, that's her name), gives him a thistle at the funeral of his father and brother, who have been killed by the British. So the thistles are associated with love. When they're older, the two begin dating, and he gives her back this same, dried thistle. Once again it is associated with love. When Murron marries him, she gives him a handkerchief with a picture of a thistle sewn on it. It still is associated with love.

Later Murron is murdered. Had this been the only way the handkerchief had been used, whenever Wallace looks at it with sadness, we would understand and feel his personal anguish. It would evoke in him (and in us) emotional memories and feelings about her specialness, the beauty of their love, and the sadness of her passing.

We could call this a "Highly Personal Symbol," as it would be highly personal to him, for reasons we can understand and which move us too. A "Highly Personal Symbol", and a character's reaction to it, can be an effective way to evoke a lot emotion. It's a Character Deepening Technique. However, in "Braveheart," the handkerchief goes on to take on more and more emotional associations throughout the plot, and becomes a Plot Deepening Technique:

When Murron is killed by a British magistrate, Wallace kills the magistrate, then later stares at the handkerchief. By now it has begun to be associated with revenge. And this handkerchief will be with him as he becomes a leader of the Scots as they fight for independence, so it will eventually come to be associated with freedom. After Wallace is killed, wishy-washy land owner Robert the Bruce takes up the fight. He leads his men into battle, holding the handkerchief, which now is associated with courage.

Throughout the film, the handkerchief with the thistle keeps reappearing, always during emotionally charged moments, and always associated with love, revenge, freedom, or courage. By the end, the handkerchief seems saturated with meaning (or, more accurately, "emotional associations"), just like the American flag.

An Extremely Important Point : Like the American flag, when we see the handkerchief in "Braveheart," we don't "think" about all these "meanings" or associations. Instead, the handkerchief evokes feelings in us from all those emotional experiences (the loss of his wife - the anger of revenge - the courage of charging into battle -- the passionate struggle for freedom, etc.).

Hypothetical Game Example - Visual:

Let's say you're designing a game with a Tolkien-like story. (Yes, it's overdone, but we're just talking hypothetically.) So you've got your Hobbit-type, meek character (played by you) going up against a fearsome enemy with supernatural powers.

Maybe your motivation is that the villain wiped out your family. Your father had given you a pendant with your family crest, handed down through the generations.

The first time we see the pendant is in a cinematic, when your father gives it to you as he lays dying. So it is associated with love. As you go on your quest to bring down the villain, you can recharge your life force (if you don't do it too much) by bringing out the pendant and clenching it. So the pendant comes to also be associated with life. At some point you need to give the pendant to a fallen, dying friend -- to save him by recharging his life force. So now the pendant is associated with self-sacrifice for a friend. And if the pendant eventually comes back to you and gives you a decisive super-boost of life force for the final battle, it would then be associated with victory.

Although it would operate outside the gamer's conscious awareness, this would be a "Symbol Which Takes on More and More Emotional Associations" and add emotional depth to your story.

However, since the pendant plays a role in game-play, it's also a Usable Symbol, serving "double-duty" (enhancing the depth of emotion but also serving a function).

Game Example - Visual and Verbal:In Max Payne, above the rough-and-tumble squalor of the city float billboards for the mysterious Aesir Corporation, with it's logo (the "R" in AESIRE has a little wing on it) and its slogan, "A Bit Closer to Heaven."

At first, the billboards have the emotional quality of taunting the residents of the city by reminding them of class distinctions. After Max (i.e. you) discover that the Aesir Corporation is responsible both for the city's decrepit condition and the murder of Max's wife and child, the logo and slogan are now associated with the enemy. And, when Max triumphs in the end and finally attains some inner peace, he adopts the slogan, "A bit closer to heaven," as his own. The phrase now is associated with transcendence.

If you played the game and this symbol only made you think about these different associations, despite the fact that it was a wonderfully bold and inventive attempt, it was, to a great degree, unsuccessful. But, whether or not it made you think about the associations, if it evoked in you a variety of emotions that accompanied these different associations, then it was successful.

Summary

This article has covered four distinct techniques for evoking emotional depth by using symbols (or five, if you count the "Highly Personal Symbol".) Each use of symbols is quite different from the other. They can be used in combination. If no one notices your work after it's done, that's just fine - in general, they're not supposed to.

Remember that probably no more than 25% of everyone playing your game should even realize that a symbol you've created even is a symbol. When you're artful, most people won't notice the symbol, because you're writing "outside of their conscious awareness."

It's always good to avoid cliché symbols - that is, ones we've seen many times before. Clichés don't involve us emotionally because they stand out like a sore thumb. (For example, don't have a scary, mysterious man in a black robe, with his face hidden by a black hood, have a seemingly chance meeting with one of your characters in order to foreshadow the fact that the character is about to die. The man in the black robe and hood is a cliché symbol of "death.")

When using symbols, you're not creating intellectual exercises (having people try to figure out what a symbol "means"). Using a symbol for that kind of mind-game would detract from the emotion. Instead, when you use one or more of the techniques presented here, you're trying to deepen the gamer's emotional experience in the game, by letting the symbol evoke emotions in the player.

In short, when you create a symbol artfully, players will be emotionally affected by it, even though they probably won't consciously notice the symbol.

As we saw, quite often these different types of symbols can serve "double-duty," also having a function in game-play by being "Usable Symbols."

For those of you who create games with stories and characters, and who are trying to push the envelope widening and deepening the emotional experiences your games deliver, I hope these creative tools will be of use to you.

David Freeman
freeman@dfreeman.com