To make their art more exciting, designers often infuse their games with systems of risk and reward. Some games, such as Blackjack and Poker, are entirely built upon this premise because they solely rely upon the player’s decision to engage in risky behavior for a potential greater win. Most games, however, incorporate risk-reward systems in just a few of their mechanics to flavor gameplay decisions. In addition to varying in the extent to which games use risk-reward systems, they also vary in the extent to which these systems are structured. While some risk-reward systems are openly scripted and communicated to the player, others are unscripted and only discovered through personal realization. Because they dynamically enrich gameplay, risk-reward systems should be dissected for greater game enjoyment.
Scripted risk-reward systems
Scripted risk-reward systems refer to gameplay mechanics of risk about which the player is directly informed. This structure typically aids the risk-reward system because once the player understands the risk-reward system’s presence and implications, he/she can engage it to better enjoy the game. Far Cry New Dawn adopts this approach through its outpost recapture system. In this post-apocalyptic game, the player reclaims outposts from the enemy. Once reclaimed, these outposts can be scavenged for materials and then deserted for the enemies to once again claim. And once the enemies control the outpost, the player can reclaim it once again for better loot. They key of this system lies in the added risk because each time the outpost is overtaken by enemies, it becomes harder to reclaim. As a result, the player enters a deliciously strategic internal dialogue as to when he/she should scavenge the outpost. Depending on the player’s current abilities, weapons, and health, it may be better to retain the outpost for now and return later; however, the underprepared player best benefits from a reclaimed outpost’s resources. Through its outpost recapture system, Far Cry New Dawn structures the player to engage risky combat situations, subsequently introducing entertaining challenges that richen the gameplay experience.
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild introduces a similar risk-reward system in its combat through the parry mechanic. The game instructs you how to parry an attack - such as a Lynel’s sword strike or a Guardian’s laser beam shot - with a shield deflection the moment before it hits Link. Upon successful timing, the enemy is caught off guard, thereby allowing the player to unleash a flurry of attacks. This is a scripted risk-reward system because the Ta’loh Naeg Shrine, which is commonly engaged early in the game, acts as a tutorial for this parry mechanic. As a result, the player fully understands how a parry can either maximize a combat situation or leave Link open to a deadly attack. The risk-reward system peaks in Guardian battles. Because they only attack with laser beams, Guardians’ strikes can be parried to redirect their attacks and greatly damage the assaulting foe. As a result, Link can benefit more from redirecting a Guardian’s laser beams than, say, a Bokoblin’s spear strike because Guardians pose a more direct threat and deflecting weapon attacks, as compared to laser beams, does not damage the enemy. As a result, the game proposes different expected values, or typical gains from a risk. With different expected values for parrying different attacks, the player can more thoughtfully consider what types of attacks he/she wants to attempt parrying. This added strategy demonstrates how Breath of the Wild’s parry mechanic deepens combat gameplay through its added risk-reward possibilities.
Risk-reward systems benefit games beyond just combat. The dinosaur-centered game Fossil Fighters, for instance, utilizes and informs the player about its risk-reward cleaning mechanic. In Fossil Fighters, the player must find dinosaur fossils and clean them so that these fossils may be revived as dinosaurs. Cleaning is not a straightforward process because the player must first hammer through a hard outer layer of rock before finely drilling away smaller debris and blowing away leftover residue, all while under a time limit. If the player imprecisely hammers or drills the fossil itself, the player’s score decreases and the fossil is not perfectly revived. Through this cleaning mechanic, the game rewards efficient use of time. With this reward system in mind, the player quickly learns how to take risks to maximize time. He/she could hammer the fossil a bit more than necessary, for example, to more directly reach the fossil underneath. This heavy-handed approach is dangerous, though, because the fossils vary in terms of density. Thus, too much use of the hammer could unexpectedly break through too many rock layers and severely damage the fossil. The player has choices in this cleaning mechanic: slow and steady or fast and furious. Either method is self-directed, resulting in a personal sense of commitment, and adheres to the player’s desired strategy. Given the player’s sense of risk-aversion or risk-inclination, he/she can engage cleaning in a variety of ways, transforming this believably mundane task of cleaning into an entertaining gamble of efficiency.
Unscripted risk-reward systems
The previous examples illustrated risk-reward systems that are scripted to the player and how such systems enrich the gameplay experience; however, risk-reward systems are far more frequently unscripted with the same contributions of improved gameplay. Unscripted risk-reward systems are subtle, not openly communicated to the player, yet still profound in how they influence the player’s gameplay. The old age classic Pac-Man adopts unscripted risk-reward mechanics through its point system. In Pac-Man, there is one goal: accumulate points. While these points can be earned by quickly playing through level after level, the player quickly realizes that a more efficient and safer method to maximize his/her score is ghost camping. Ghost camping refers to waiting near one of the stage’s four power pellets for ghosts to approach, eating the power pellet, then eating the ghosts for a run of 200, 400, 800, and 1,600 points for consecutively eating each of the four ghosts. This strategy results in 3,000 total points per power pellet if successfully completed, and is a far more efficient method to raise one’s score than merely going through the levels with a goal of completion. However, it is a risky procedure because ghosts do not stay vulnerable forever. The player must act quickly to devour all four of the ghosts, lest they return dangerous while near the player. To make matters riskier, the player could be approaching a vulnerable ghost only for the power pellet to wear out. Then, the player can easily run into that now dangerous ghost and lose a life. Ghost camping is a risky procedure, but its nondirected and self-engaged nature keeps high scores extrinsically motivating.
Scores also influence the unscripted risk-reward systems in Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box. This puzzle-solving game gives the player curious brain-teasers with an unlimited time to solve them. Once the player submits an answer, the game reports if it was correct. If incorrect, the player loses points. Thus, the player is typically motivated to think puzzles through and find the correct answer, rather than guessing randomly. This punishment of surface-level thinking adheres to the game’s core gameplay mechanics of tough puzzle-solving. However, the risky option of submitting a hunch still persists, and grants the risk-inclined player the ability to gamble. Puzzles, then, enjoy an added depth and strategy. Is the player satisfied in his/her answer and ready for the gamble of submission, or should he/she ponder the puzzle a tad longer? This internal dialogue within the player stems from puzzle submissions bearing weight due to their ending score. Scores, then, subtly embody a risk-reward system that enhance gameplay with contemplative options of answer submission.
In addition to how scores extrinsically motivate players to engage risk-reward systems, intrinsic motivation to succeed in games can also result in unscripted risk-reward systems. Wargroove demonstrates such through its commanders’ power. In this tactical game’s blend of Advance Wars and Fire Emblem, each side’s commanding unit slowly charges a Wargroove, a commander-specific power to turn the tide of battle. One commander’s Wargroove heals nearby units, one creates a defensive barrier of vines, and one summons a low level minion at no cost. The great variety of each commander’s Wargroove deeply richens strategic gameplay. And while each commander builds their Wargroove charge slowly over time, they can more quickly do so by engaging battle and defeating enemies. However, commanders engaging battle is risky because if one side’s commander falls in combat, the opposing side wins. These commanders are powerful units, though, and it takes several hits to defeat them; however, the player faces an unstated choice in each battle as to what extent he/she will use his/her commander. As previously stated, the commanders are powerful units and combat with them quickly charges their Wargroove ability,but if the commander is defeated, the game is over. Thus, Wargroove slyly deepens its strategic gameplay with commander power with a risky system that intrinsically rewards clever planning with combat success.
While Wargroove’s commander usage was optional, risk can be unavoidably infused into games’ core mechanics. Super Monkey Ball, for instance, incorporates an inescapable risk-reward system in its traversal speed choices. In Super Monkey Ball, the player directs a challengingly floaty orb toward a desired goal area. Moving this orb is far from easy, and each level’s hazards compounds the inherent movement difficulty. One mechanic, however, pushes the player to riskily engage Super Monkey Ball’s movement: the time limit. Each stage has a relentless time limit. Because of it, players are rewarded for moving quickly. But with quicker movement, movement becomes harder to control. This balance of speed and safety creates a delectable (if not aneurysm-inducing) risk-reward system. The player is rewarded for quickly moving through the stage, but that speed is difficult to control and can result in the player falling off the stage and losing a life. As a result, this seemingly mindless platforming game adopts an air of strategy in calculating the player’s desired level of speed and safety. Movement is unavoidable in Super Monkey Ball, and its implementation makes speed an unstated risk-reward system that intrinsically rewards skilled players with success.
Conclusion
Almost every game has some aspect of risk in it. Whether it be openly communicated to the player or not even mentioned, risk-reward mechanics push the player to thoroughly think through gameplay decisions for maximal outcomes. Such cognitive additions positively contribute to games by providing a player-centric depth where the player dissects and calculates expected returns from risks. These risk-reward systems sweeten gameplay with a palpable sense of engagement because each gameplay decision becomes more important from the weight that risks add. Risk-reward systems remain a worthwhile tool to infuse in games from their contributions to unique and gripping gameplay experiences that straddle the line between player success and failure.
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