Baldur’s Gate 3 and Motivation: Why You Can’t Stop Playing Baldur’s Gate

You know it, I know it. I’ve spoken to strangers on the street in the past few weeks who know it. Baldur’s Gate 3 is on fire in the twilight of summer of 2023. The game has been extensively praised for its AAA quality that does not include any (as of this writing) in-game purchases or microtransactions, things which in their respective games, tend to replace motivating factors or worse, leverage motivating factors away from player enjoyment to encourage spending. I find it the height of irony, and extremely hilarious, that even given all of the breath, incalculable dollars’ worth of research, and man hours devoted to trying to make the perpetually playable game, to become the perpetually profitable game vis a vis microtransactions, Baldur’s Gate 3 has manage to break records of concurrent players and shatter sales expectations simply by being competently designed, with a respect for the established fundamentals of how game design manages player motivation. How about that.

A zoom in on the eyes on a monstrous, tentacled face, looking panicked. The next shot is from their perspective, seen through the windshield of a vehicle, falling through the air, about to crash into the side of a mountain.

Footage of me about to crash into yet another hundred-hour long RPG I don’t have time to play.

And speaking of motivation, it got me thinking about the game’s balance of intrinsic and extrinsic motivators. If you’ve studied game design for any amount of time, you may have run into these terms ‘intrinsic and extrinsic motivation’. I was particularly interested in how Baldur’s Gate 3 leveraged the concepts in concert with one another, and what specific gameplay aspects map to which form of motivation. The game has made some headlines for its huge numbers of concurrent players on PC – breaking the all time top charts. Clearly something is motivating players to keep coming back, and often, to the point of being notable even in comparison to other games.

Intrinsic and Extrinsic Motivation

So what are our vocab words for the day? Each are a form of motivations that encourages people to do stuff. Extrinsic means motivated by a consequence that exists outside of the action you are being motivated to do. In game design terms, this usually means rewards. Points, gold, gear, are all extrinsic motivators. They give a reason to adventure into the frontier and fight monsters, as opposed to intrinsic motivations – in which the promise of adventuring and fighting monsters is the only motivation you need. An intrinsic motivator is an action which is itself compelling. You might run on a treadmill just to work up a sweat, but you might play a sport just because you enjoy the sport. Both actions lead to a similar result, but in the former case you’re motivated by the result – the reward of the health benefits -, and in the latter case you’re motivated by the act itself.

This applied to Baldur’s Gate in a lot of pretty obvious ways. The game dolls out fairly regular rewards for exploration, dialogue choices, monster fighting, and general adventuring. You clear out a cave of gnolls, you get a cool magic pendant. This makes you stronger, which makes you better at fighting monsters, which you are now more motivated to fight because you can find more magic treasure. Do this enough, and you level up, earning more tools to play with, yet another reward. And so on, forming a feedback loop. But then, why is it that you consider those new tools a reward? The promise of enhanced power could mean faster extrinsic rewards, but it’s also likely you simply relish the idea of getting to use new spells are abilities. That’s intrinsic motivation at work. If you enjoy the strategy and planning involved in a combat encounter, you’re intrinsically motivated.

The Reward In The Labyrinth

A quintessential example of extrinsic motivation is the rat in a maze. If you put a rat in a maze where it can smell cheese hidden in the center, it will follow the scent to the treat, solving the maze. Why does it do this? What’s motivating it? Obviously, it is the promise of reward. It thinks of nothing but that reward in the labyrinth at the center. A game, especially a linear narratively driven one like Baldur’s Gate can be thought of as a labyrinth. It’s a designer’s job to lead player’s willingly through the labyrinth, and so extrinsic rewards are some of the most powerful tools in accomplishing this. What Baldur’s Gate 3 uses as its rewards system is not unique to it, but the results are leading to praise and critical reception the likes of which a western AAA RPG of this type hasn’t seen in a long time, so it’s worth examining. The player is given two major things regularly over the course of regular gameplay, which I would consider rewards – player power, in the form of gold, magic items, and experience points… as well as interactions with, and revelations about the player-controlled characters which make up their party of adventurers.

A rat, straddling a piece of hempen rope says "Follow me. But be ready for anything."

I am not ready for anything.

In other words, Baldur’s Gate uses its characters as a primary source of extrinsic motivation. You improve their attitude toward you enough, you find interesting encounters out in the world that the characters have things to say about, you progress the main narrative along its course, you are rewarded with more interactions with your party. This only works, of course, because the characters in Baldur’s Gate 3 are written so damn well, and are so compelling. A fair number of games have boring characters, to be frank. A fair number of games have boring characters that talk, a lot. Unless your player wants to get to know your characters, and hang out with them, the threat of more content involving interactions with them will not be very enticing.

Now, I’ve got a lot of opinions on the subject, but this isn’t a writing tips blog, so I’ll try to be pretty succinct, broad, and clinical about this. What makes the characters in Baldur’s Gate 3 work so well for people? Or at least, what do they have in common that’s making everyone want to smooch them, making fan art of them, and play hundreds of hours of a deeply involved role playing game to get to know them better. One obvious key, they all share, is an interesting hook. There’s a weird little fact about each of them that instantly draws you in. The hook is the promise of something interesting that could happen – the seeds of intrigue being planted in your audience’s head. It’s something that raises questions and teases answers. Literally every party member, and many NPCs, in Baldur’s Gate 3 share this quality.

Shadowheart’s hook is – well, it’s already there, isn’t it? Why is this young woman named Shadowheart. That’s a little strange, isn’t it? Does she come from some obscure culture that names people as such? Is it a religious thing? She is a cleric, after all. Maybe it’s just a title. These kinds of questions keep your player guessing, and motivate them extrinsically to want to progress their relationship with these characters until the interactions themselves become enjoyable, and the practice becomes intrinsically motivating. Then you’ve got them. We got all that from dear Shadowheart, and she hasn’t said a word of dialogue. All that before we even discover she worships a dark goddess of pain, in contrast to her very amicable and friendly demeanor. More questions. Another hook. Then we learn she had her memories willingly wiped. Then we discover she is afraid of wolves. Etc. All the Baldur’s Gate characters have a lot of these little secrets about them that get hinted at gradually as the game progresses, and many of which are inter-related. Before you learn about Astarion’s personal problems, he tries to make nice after holding you at knifepoint. Before you learn about Karlach’s heart condition, you learn she fought against her will in a blood war in hell.

A raven-haired woman with pointy ears in intricately decorated chainmail speaks casually to someone just off-screen. Onl the listener's shoulder can be a seen. There are cobblestone walls in the background.

I would die for you.

Again, without going too much into the nuances of to write compelling characters, a topic way beyond the scope of this blog post, I will say that this cast all have consistently engaging presence. This is something I notice in a lot of media that loses my interest. You can have the ‘deepest’ most ‘complex’ characters in the history of literature, but if A: Their depth is not conveyed (with those hooks, and subsequent payoffs) or if, more importantly in my opinion, B: They are not compelling to spend time with, your characters are not going to move people. Characters are more than just the hooks and the big reveals and the huge dramatic shifts and the larger-than-life inner turmoils. Think about your friends, your family. The people you love. Most of the time, assuming a healthy relationship, you’re not spending most of your time with people in high-intensity emotionally fraught confrontations. Most human interaction is just… shitting around.

An elf with red eyes and white hair speaks in a sultry manner into the camera. Beneath his lips, sharp fangs can be briefly seen.

You are a consummate loser, but you’re my consummate loser.

Baldur’s Gate 3 characters are excellent at shitting around. Astarion’s over-the-top, campy, cynical melodrama is fun, and funny. Shadowheart’s deadpan earnestness is charming and sweet. Karlach’s puppy-like sense of wonder with the world around her and irrepressible optimism is a delightful contrast to her menacing appearance and horrifyingly tragic backstory. Gale’s flighty, overly poetic, and know-it-all manner of speech makes him dorky and affable. All this, of course, bolstered by stellar acting performances. These people are just a good time to be around. It doesn’t feel like wasted time listening to them talk. This is all compelling, entirely aside from any deeper emotional complexity. Mere exposure to them is compelling. The fact that you might like these people, is what makes emotional complexity and the answers to those hooks from earlier mean something. It’s what makes them captivating and moving and effecting. People carry on through massive, hundred-hour-long RPG experiences like Persona or Dragon Age or Final Fantasy or Xenoblade or Baldur’s Gate not just for the carrot on the end of a stick. The interactions with the characters must themselves become an end, not just a means.

A pale elf with white hair looks longingly into the eyes of a cave bear, who returns him a tender expression. It appears as though they are about to copulate. In the corner, a live studio audience is seen celebrating.

Although it’s not a bad idea to keep ample rewards mixed in…

Learning more about these characters is the reward at the center of the labyrinth, but in the process, your player learns to love the process. Players no longer will play the game just to discover their party’s dark secrets, but to hang out with the party. That will keep a player moving through however much content you have to offer them – as the content itself becomes the goal, not just the rewards it can unlock. This, I think, is the secret spice to Baldur’s Gate 3‘s success. How this applies to its characters is a foundational pillar to its game’s design, but this philosophy also finds its way into all aspects of the design.

Combat As Player Expression

On another note about combat being intrinsically motivating. A major part of this Role Playing Game, based on a popular tabletop Role Playing Game, is the role playing. Now, not everyone engages with these systems, but I find it very clever how Larian utilized roleplay as a form of gameplay through its mechanics. If you have bought in to the world of Baldur’s Gate, then you may see the fun in entirely embodying your player character through their actions, dialogue responses, and fighting style. Maybe your character doesn’t kill. Maybe they kill everyone and push people off of cliffs at any given opportunity.

From a birds-eye view, an adventurer is seen shoving a scythe-clawed avian monster off of a giant mushroom, far into a chasm below.

More designers would do well not to underestimate the unfiltered joy of pushing things off of cliffs.

Combat and dialogue in this game is full of intentionally placed opportunities for various decisions with various results. Some players may encounter very clever strategies for defeating tough enemies, where as other players may not fight those enemies at all. Through this clever planning, Larian has made way for roleplaying to be an intrinsic motivator. If you are bought in to roleplay, then when combat and dialogue presents ample opportunities to engage in it, combat and dialogue becomes a lot more engaging.

Bringing it back, this highlights an important aspect of combat in games I feel is often overlooked. High-intensity gameplay like combat can be a source of player expression, as much as it is a challenge of skill. When a player chooses to be a mage instead of a warrior, or on a more micro level, when a player chooses to throw a punch instead of a kick, they are putting a bit of themself into the game. Any veteran player in competitive games will tell you that people develop playstyles – comfortable patterns reflective of their personality. This is true of single player games too. It’s satisfying to see a bit of your creativity pay off in a functional system! So even where roleplay is not directly involved, it’s important to consider a wide variety of viable player choices for solving gameplay challenges, as the creativity and personal expression that affords is also intrinsically motivating.

Player Expression As Player Expression

But combat is not the only way to encourage this behavior! Players are known for doing things ‘just to see what happens’. Getting to see what happens is the extrinsic motivator. Embodying the role of the character as the player conceives and perceives them, is intrinsically motivating – roleplay is a method of play that is done entirely for its own sake, for the joy of embodying a fantasy role. So to Baldur’s Gate 3‘s credit, it opens a lot of avenues to a lot of potential character archetypes. Unique dialogues related to what class, race, and background the player’s character is, kindly or cruel dialogue responses, branching story decisions. That’s all great for this, but it’s also all set dressing. What really impresses me is the avenues available for navigating the world that reflect back on the player character. In the early game even.

For example, there’s a goblin camp. You can run in swords and spells blazing, and fight them all. It’s tough, but doable. OR, if you’re a druid or otherwise have access to the talk to animals spell, you can sneak into their camp and convince their domestic spiders that their goblin masters are good eating, and get some help in the fight. OR, if you talked to some mercenary ogres the goblin leaders hired, you can give them a better offer, and get their help in the fight. OR, you can bypass fighting entirely – team up with the goblin leader and earn her trust. OR, ingratiate yourself with the goblins just long enough to find a storehouse full of explosives, and raze the place to the ground. And that’s just a handful of all the options available. That’s not even to get into all the little micro-decisions baked throughout the goblin camp which greatly vary the experience, and constantly get the player asking what sort of character they are playing. It’s quite impressive, I’ve seen the game turn people who are not super seriously into tabletop-type games, into out-and-out roleplayers.

Four characters from Baldur's Gate 3 are show in four panels. From left to right: Shadowheart, a dark-haired cleric woman in intricate armor. Her expression is blank. Astarion, a white-haired, pale-skinned elf with red eyes and a nobleman's coat. He is smirking, amused. Wyl, a dark-skinned man with cornrow hair and a false eye. His expression is disproving. La'zel, a green-skinned woman with a froggish appearance and facial warpaint. She looks as though she is about to explain something.

The Squad live reaction when you suggest murdering that old lady for her stuff.

I’d Write a Conclusion Here, But I’ve Got To Go Play More Baldur’s Gate 3 ©

So, uh, yeah. I just thought it was really neat how the narrative elements of Baldur’s Gate 3 like the characters are not treated as simple icing on the cake, but rather a material and core aspect of gameplay itself. It’s not the type of game which segregates story and gameplay. I think this is how they keep rocking such huge quantities of concurrent players. The next time you play, which for me will be right after I finish writing this, try and see how the character interactions are influencing your decision-making and how you engage with the game.

A wide panning shot of a group of adventurers in armor carrying torches, climbing down a set of ruined, craggy stone steps suspended over a river of lava. The steps lead to a large, ancient machine.

Gather Your Party And Venture Forth…

Video Games Vs. Horse

Ahh, horse. Strong, graceful, the picture of elegance. Truly one of nature’s most majestic creatures, and a favorite mainstay of the that one medium I like a whole lot. Welcome to ‘Video Games Vs.’ where I analyze the dumbest stuff in video games I can think of which inexplicably follows a pattern of being almost consistently jank and bizarre. And there is no creature in the interactive medium’s menagerie more jank and bizarre than the horse, and riding animals in general. Let’s get right into it.

Simulating a Living Creature

When adding a feature to your game, you always have to ask yourself what it is you’re spending your resources on and why. What’s the goal of having a horse in your game? Does it enable combat? Is it merely for making the player go faster? Are horses just cool? Or, does it need to be immersive, and make the player feel like they really own a companion animal? The goal of the later comes up a lot in small ways, such that it separates the concept of riding animals from, say, a dune buggy. One is a tool, the other is a living thing. In a lot of games, horses are not meant to be mere vehicles.

With this consideration, it makes a lot of sense that often, in games, the movement of horses is not nearly so smooth or precision as the movement of your main playable character. Many games are concerned with just this sort of behavior. For example, the recent Zelda: Tears of The Kingdom, and it’s predecessor Breath of The Wild features horses that do not map perfectly to the player’s control stick, the way link does. The horse does not go slow on a slight tilt of the control, nor does it gallop at a full tilt. Rather, Link must gently heel the sides of the horse, much like a rider does to a real horse, to encourage it to pick up speed. In Tears of The Kingdom, there are several ‘levels’ of speed which the player accesses through a set of states that the ‘kick’ button rotates to, and holding back on the control stick encourages the horse to slow down.

Besides that, these horses do not start out friendly to Link. They’re wild, and must be tamed. They may back and panic before they are tamed. The method to calm them is to simply press a button, yet still the player must be attentive to, and respond to the horse’s needs. These things do not facilitate the gameplay of movement, combat, or puzzle-solving which otherwise dominates Zelda‘s play space. Their purpose to give the illusion of life to these horses – temperamental, disobedient, and willful life. On the flip side, the illusion of life can also be a boon to movement gameplay. The Zelda horses, if set on their course, can follow paths and avoid obstacles automatically, as though the horse has a will of its own, allowing the player to occupy themselves with other activity. In this way, the horse is not an extension of the player, but rather a partner.

Link from Ocarina of Time rides his horse, Epona, over the grasslands of Hyrule field. A meter represented by six carrots slowly drains as Link encourages Epona to speed up.

Zelda has long toyed with this sort of behavior.

However, as I alluded, these considerations can also be obstacles to gameplay. Particularly in early Zelda games, the horse Epona would often get stuck on strange geometry. She’d whinny and complain, and at times refuse to move if one attempted to guide her over large tree routes, cliffs, or rough terrain. Zelda horses can never be commanded to jump, for another instances. Epona and her descendants will only jump if approaching certain obstacles like fences. With such loose rules, divorced from player controls, they are prone to errors and discrepancies, like Epona getting stuck on a gate, because she did not approach it at quite the precise angle.

These sorts of bizarre terrain interactions are terribly common for video game mounts. Agro from Shadow of The Colossus is a lovable and friendly free-thinking horse. However, his AI is sensitive to shifts in terrain, and sometimes can get a little mixed up. Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim is infamous for the ‘Skyrim Horse’. These otherwordly creatures are capable of scaling near-vertical inclines, and if you were around in Skyrim’s heyday you were no doubt subject to one or two horse-terrain interactions that were so bizarre as to totally shatter the fiction and immersion of the game, at least once or twice. It is, admittedly, rather funny.

A knight on a black and white horse stand on a cliffside in the mountains. The horse is standing nearly vertically on a cliff face.

Charming.

When The Horse Is Only Decorative

There is an inverse to this, where horses are not considered as companions in gameplay, or even as vehicles. It is customary in MMORPGS to collect lots of mounts, and usually, the mount is merely a visual flare. It increases your move speed, and nothing else. No new mechanics are imparted, nor does the mount behave in any way like a living thing outside of its animations. Perhaps the mount even allows you to ‘fly’, but generally the ‘flight’ is just a repurposed swimming mechanic, again with the animations switched out. The horse in this instance appears with a button press, and disappears just as easily. In Final Fantasy XIV, presumably to counteract this sense of one’s chocobo riding bird feeling like a prop, among other reasons, you are able to summon it as a companion in combat, aside from its utility in increasing moving speed. World of Warcraft, in its latest expansion as of August 2023 added in new draconic flying mounts whose motion is governed by a more interactive flight and movement system, to better characterized them as living things, and make travel more interesting.

A woman in blue with a white braid whistles, and a giant ostrich-like yellow bird appears suddenly, her now riding it.

I’m faster, and riding it, but I’m not really riding it, you know?

A Peek Behind The Curtain

In MMOs and games like them, mounts usually appear and disappear out of nowhere as needed. However, wherever a mount is introduced, you have to decide how it’s going to be conveyed to the player. The Horse Delivery System, if you will. For Zelda, traditionally Epona is called on some sort of instrument, but what then? The player can potentially leave Epona wherever they want, travel a few miles, and then… what? Do they have to wait for Epona to make their way all the way across the land? Well no, and in fact the game will sometimes not even bother to remember where Epona was. Rather, she will spawn in off-screen, somewhere nearby. The camera will dramatically swing around to give the impression that Epona did travel across the land at the sound of your call, but this is indeed just an illusion – a visual trick.

There is a danger to this, though. In Dragon Age: Inquisition, due to how free the camera is at all times, it is very very trivial to swing your camera around fast, just as your horse appears and see what’s really going on; your horse jarringly winks into existence just where the game thinks it’ll be off-camera. I think many a curious or intuitive player might do this, it may even happen by accident, and it is extremely jarring. It underscores the artificiality of Inquisition‘s horses so much that I never saw them as representations of living creatures again. Besides that, while I’m on the subject, the Inquisition horses are so slow, relatively speaking, so as to not even be worth the enormous amount of screen estate that they demand with their huge bodies. If including a mount in your game, consider the trade offs – especially if implementing life-like features that may hamper control.

A woodland ranger kneels down to pick a lock on a wooden door. Their nearby horse rears up, and slides along the front of the door, in glitchy fashion.

Procedural interaction with terrain is prone to uh… a lot of problems

Zelda: Tears of The Kingdom utilizes stables, which always, magically, are able to summon forth horses registered to the stable system, regardless of where in the world they are left. Otherwise, horses can only be called from a fairly short range, not universally, like the Eponas of old. This is more ‘realistic’ in a way, I suppose, but really just feels like a way to further justify the common use of the stables, and the previous solution was a lot smoother in my opinion. So what other ways are there to get a large quadruped into the play space as the player needs it that isn’t disruptive? Stables are a common solution, such as how chocobo traditionally work in the Final Fantasy games- visit a stable or chocobo farm or chocobo forest, and go off with your mount, which is returned to the stable when left behind. I think the most elegant version of a video game horse, would have a very inventive and elegant way to get the horse into the player’s hands, so to speak.

Gaming’s Most Powerful Horse

So I’ve discussed my love of the strongest apex predator of the mounting animal world before, so I won’t labor the point too much. Torrent from Elden Ring is a very satisfying and reliable game mechanic to use, which allows you to traverse vast distances, engage in mounted combat from the safety of a riding saddle, and engage in combat in entirely new and interesting paradigms as compared to Elden Ring‘s on-foot combat.

A woman with a spear rides a horned steed through shallow waters and over large castle ruins to avoid the breath of a fire-breathing dragon.

Mighty is He.

One interesting thing to note, is that Torrent approaches a lot of the problems I’ve talked about so far by just… not engaging with them at all. For example, many games struggle with how and where the player can call upon their mount. Each game’s individual Horse Delivery System, so to speak. Several games, like Dragon Quest, and certain Zelda games, try to brute force this problem by simply teleporting the horse in on command, trying valiantly to hide the seams of this unnatural action, and mostly failing. Some games, like Zelda: Breath of The Wild and Zelda: Tears of The Kingdom try to smooth over this dissonance by having at least the required use of an in-game stable to summon your horse from anywhere. Torrent does not brute force this particular problem so much as he double-jumps over it. Torrent doesn’t have to appear from anywhere besides just under the player, immediately, whenever they want him, so long as they are outdoors. There’s no need for any transition from off-screen. Our only explanation needed, is that he is a magic horse.

This is reflective of FromSoft’s design philosophy as a whole, which favors gameplay usability over simulation. Which isn’t to say they don’t value immersiveness, but rather that they tend toward verisimilitude over realism. Thus why Torrent has the barest minimum of startup acceleration. The lightest touch of clearance needed for him to turn. Torrent has just the hint of a suggestion of more rigid movement, which creates the convincing illusion of riding a horse, which in this specific case is all that’s needed to sell the fantasy. That leaves a lot of leeway to make Torrent feel really satisfying to use, and create very exciting mounted-combat scenarios with a lot of precision movement. However, there are of course drawbacks – if you’re looking for a game that truly simulates the feel of riding an animal, you’ll not find it here.

A woman with a spear rides a horned steed through shallow water, staring down a fire breathing dragon. Just as it starts to spew flames, the woman and steed hop up a nearby stone, and jump up to run her weapon through the dragon's head, vanquishing it.

And yet, how many video game horses can do THAT!?

Plessie

Okay she’s not a horse, but she is a riding animal – it counts, and the lessons we can take from her implementation will be invaluable to our line of interrogation here. As we’ve been over, video game animals often struggle with the Horse Delivery System. Where and how does the horse appear? What space does the horse take up when not in use? For Torrent it’s ‘he doesn’t’ and ‘none’. Usually, it involves spawning the horse in just off-screen to hide them popping it, with the implication that the horse was totally nearby the whole time and just needed to hear the sound of your voice to come scampering in. Personally, I find this all kind of tedious and momentum-killing. Especially in exciting adventure-time games, which is where you’ll usually see horses, the need to drop everything to navigate a menu or perform some special action feels disruptive to me, which is probably why Torrent is my favorite on this list so far, despite his ‘avoiding the problem’ approach to ‘solving’ this problem. It makes Torrent feel less substantial, and more like a game mechanic than an animal, which is probably why they made him a ‘spirit steed’ in the story.

Mario, in a cat costume, standing on an ice pillar. The camera pans over to the nearby water, and a small, orange plesiosaur emerges from under the waves.

Plessie has no such issues.

Nintendo has proven this problem solvable, as far as I’m concerned. The 2021 re-released of Super Mario 3D World is actually Super Mario 3D World + Bowser’s Fury. The latter of which is a bundled open-concept mini-adventure in which Mario explores a vast lake or sea type area to stop the titular Bowser and his Fury from rampaging. The game is separated into a number of islands and shores that require navigating not insignificant portions of water. That’s where Plessie, your erstwhile amphibious companion comes in. Plessie’s movement is good, but pretty standard. She’s not as agile or high-jumping as mario, she can’t turn as hard as him, but she is faster, especially in water. What I find so fascinating about Plessie is how she slots into a Horse Delivery System.

The HDS in Bowser’s Fury has the goal of being as frictionless as possible to Mario’s adventuring. While playing this game, if you notice it, it is almost uncanny. Plessie is consistently, always, just where you need her to be. How does she always know? I suspect there is a number of robust processes happening under the hood, invisibly, to ensure that Plessie is constantly ‘aware’ of Mario and what he’s doing.

Having her be an amphibious aquatic creature is a good hack to start with. She can reposition herself by submerging, and popping up in a new location without the player seeing an discontinuity between the two actions. Secondly, the game is very veeery careful to never allow you to see Plessie pop up out of nowhere. She always emerges from the water, giving the illusion of a plausible physicality to her. Sure, she may literally be teleporting, but it never seems that way – merely that she swims very fast underwater without a mountee. Frequently however, the transition is simply hidden, and Plessie is already in her designated location when the player gets there. There? How does Plessie always know where to be, seemingly in the perfect spot for whenever the player would want to make use of her?

Mario, in a cat costume, checks his map near a shoreline. The map obscures the screen. When the map fades, an orange plesiosaur is waiting at the shoreline to pick up Mario for a ride.

Planning to travel to a new island? Plessie is way ahead of you.

I have a couple of theories on this. Firstly, Nintendo is extremely good at crafting specific player experiences. They will playtest a game into the ground until they know every iteration of every kind of action a player may want to do. Based on the large datasets I’m sure they have, alongside decades of sharpened design instincts, I think they were able to narrow down the likely places players would want to use Plessie. The game will detect when Mario is in proximity to one of these, and have Plessie spawn there, always ready to go. This system is very robust, too! Once, while escaping the very scary Fury Bowser’s fire breath, I jumped Mario over a waterfall – woah! What I didn’t expect was that, in perfect action-movie style, Plessie would appear at the foot of the waterfall, just beneath me, and catch Mario in the nick of time for us to make our daring escape from Bowser. Wild! All without any input from me.

The result of having Plessie out and about on her own in the world, showing up only when needed, gives the impression of an intelligent, loyal animal. Plessie feels so much more like a character with agency because she is making ‘decisions’ alongside you, ‘deciding’ where and when to pop up, as though she is protective of Mario. I think the game may even take Mario’s currently situation into account. Plessie could theoretically emerge anywhere from the water, but during some challenges will not, soas to not be disruptive to the flow of gameplay. I would not be surprised if things like active nearby collectibles, whether Fury Bowser is active, what direction Mario is running, are all tracked and fed into Plessie’s spawn system to determine the most ideal time and place to appear. The result is that you don’t have to think about Plessie until she’s needed, but she still feels like a real animal and not just a game mechanic.

A cat-shaped medallion appears atop a waterfall lined with large block-platforms. Mario, in a cat costume, scampers up the blocks. Suddenly, an orange plesiosaur is at the top of the waterfall waiting, as Mario arrives.

HOW DOES SHE ALWAYS KNOW!?

Horse

I don’t think my ideal land horse has yet appeared in a game. Torrent is my favorite video game horse to play with – his mechanics and movement are the most refined, in my opinion. Plessie is also pretty close, and she can run on land. She will not frequently, however, traverse land without Mario. I do think some of the methods employed to make Plessie feel so loyal and convenient could work on a regular old horse. Given the challenges of placing a horse on land-based geometry though, it would requires some finagling, and perhaps some compromises. A combination of methods could be used. Some horses like Agro from Shadow of The Colossus spawn in from off-screen and appear when called, which is less seamless. I think a combination of the approaches could make something that feel extremely smooth to play, but also reinforces the fantasy of having a living animal companion. If a horse were to appear automatically as the situation demands though, it would require a lot of considerations to avoid having its appearance be disruptive or inappropriate to the flow of gameplay, without Plessie’s advantage of being aquatic.

A creature of contradictions, the video game horse is. An animal companion, but also a gameplay vehicle. Made for ease of traversal over vast distances, but also temperamental, and prone to disruptive interactions with the environment. Often controlled by artificial intelligence, but rarely intelligent. I think my ideal land horse is possible in games. A creature as loyal seamless, and frictionless as plessie, but as strong and fun to use as Torrent, yet also with its own personality and sense of presence like Agro. I’m of the opinion that getting to greater heights such as this, in any area of design, requires learning not just from the best, but also from valiant attempts that didn’t quite succeed – It’s a bit of an ongoing struggle in that sense, a conflict, or a versus, if you will. One day, if we should all be so lucky, we will master the concept of Horse. See you next time.

Link from Zelda: Breath of The Wild plummets to his death, comically tumbling over the side of a cliff with a horse.