Guild Wars 2

All right, after closely following the feedback thread I’m prepared to make a definitive post on the subject. Thus far the arguments have pivoted on the difficulty and resulting restrictions (or lack thereof) in playing the puzzle, and while this is a fair platform for making argument, it doesn’t bring the topic to any solution. I have a solution, but in order have it make total sense, I need to detail how the common arguments build towards a larger realization. This is a long post, but try to stick with me. I’ll propose solutions to small problems along the way, and I promise I’m going somewhere useful.

Difficulty:
Nearly all the arguments about the holiday jumping puzzles boil down to two categories: the puzzle feels either too easy, or too difficult. And of course, the common topics consist largely of extremes. For some a barrier to entry exists, for others the puzzle couldn’t provide sustained enjoyment.

The “Barrier to Entry” side suggests that for some reason (hardware limitations, lag, disorientation, or disability) they can barely attempt the puzzle in the first place, much less finish it. They fault numerous reasons, but namely the puzzle timers. Often by the time they can begin the puzzle, they’re already too far behind to successfully keep up.

The “Lack of Enjoyment” side finds that the puzzle was too easily solvable, making the event feel not at all like an actual puzzle. They feel that puzzles should naturally provide difficult-to-surmount challenges, as this both extends the struggle (ie: enjoyment) and increases the celebration upon completion. They feel their overall enjoyment has been directly impacted by “barrier” group’s retaliation against the Clock Tower.

It’s important to note that neither side is wrong here. What some consider a limitation (ex: slow computer) means nothing to others. Please try to take the other side’s worries into account. Furthermore, we’re looking at two different play style groups who have very distinct concerns about how to best enjoy the game. Like comparing Apples to Oranges: neither is wrong, but it doesn’t work for the camps to tell one another that they chose the wrong incentive to play. So the overall solution has to fit both types of play. Keep that in mind.

The First Ten Seconds:
The most critical problems all occur within the first 10 seconds of the puzzle. This includes the waiting room, the loading screen, and starting as a group.

The loading screen is a difficult situation with a potentially simple fix. Those players with low-end machines (which is fine, not all of us have the luxury cash to upgrade) often have load timers that override the initiation of the puzzle. The most simple fix is to extend the time between the load and the initiation. It isn’t elegant, but it works.

The Waiting Room is the least entertaining part of these puzzles. When you’re bad at the puzzle, you spend a horrendous amount of time waiting to try again. And when other players in your group are good, this only extends the delay. The snowball fight is a helpful addition, but by no means a solution. This situation isn’t easily solved unless you want to ditch the survival timer. But it could certainly help to stagger starting timers. Setting up a checkpoint system is one way to achieve this. If all surviving jumpers have reached the halfway mark, start up the puzzle for those in waiting. Viola! You’ve cut the waiting room in half.

Starting as a herd detracts from the overall visibility. In normal game play, visibility is a major priority. In jumping puzzles it’s nearly essential, but only if every player needs to jump on exactly the same block. An elegant solution would be to provide multiple platform paths for the first 10 jumps. This lets players fan out and keep a clear view of their destination, without impacting the group start. The Clocktower used this system to a small degree, and it added quite a bit of diversity to the beginning.

Why not get rid of the group start altogether? Lets take a look at some of the benefits a waiting room and group start provide: On the side of challenge, starting as a group turns the puzzle into a race. It provides a sense of competition, and a little camaraderie and encouragement to boot. For many players, it’s much more fun to have someone else there in the experience with you, even if you don’t directly interact. On the other hand, you can use the wait and the group to learn how to overcome particularly difficult obstacles. Watching the players ahead of you can reveal tactics and solutions you may not have thought about before. The group becomes a communal tutor. And if all else fails, you can ask for help in the waiting room.

Community:
It doesn’t get much discussion, but one of the large problems with the holiday jumping puzzles are precisely what starting as a group could provide, but doesn’t: a sense that you’re tackling the puzzle (or racing it) as a community. In general, you can divide the group into two categories: those players who are going to struggle and fall early (most players), and those players who are going to finish and get out without looking back. What’s the point of starting as a group if you always end up solo less than halfway into the puzzle?

The previously mentioned benefits of a group largely depend on having players who are willing to run most of the puzzle even after they’ve finished it once. The Clocktower had an excellent design for this: place retrievable chests throughout the jumping puzzle. Players who felt confident enough to run the whole course successfully could re-run with the extra prize of getting these bonus chests. This provided many latent benefits: challenge seekers had an optional difficulty increase, players were motivated to run the puzzle more than once (all the while acting as unwitting guides for newbies, and as racing partners for competitive players), and the course retained more players at later stages. Jumping puzzles, like every other aspect of the game, benefit from the sense of community, and we currently aren’t meeting that sensation.

The Survival Timer:
Another common sore spot. The problem is not strictly that a timer exists, but that it seems to disproportionately affect players. Those who have trouble with it find the timer to be a complete barrier to access. Those who don’t are so entirely unaffected that the timer might as well not be there in the first place. A middle ground rarely seems to occur.

In actuality, the Frostbite timer (and similarly, the melting snowflakes) does less to promote challenge and more to create a sensation of peril, whether or not that peril actually exist. The fundamental effect is that it forces the puzzle to take the shape of a speed run and reflex test. This is not necessarily bad. It’s just one method of approaching design in a jumping puzzle. For many players it’s quite enjoyable to have this extra pressure, just for the thrill. The problem, unfortunately, is that you cannot effectively choose a difficulty curve with this system.

There are ways to alleviate the pressure without removing the timer entirely. An inclusion of safe zones which would heal, rather than damage players (or, in the case of the Clocktower’s design: floors where the ghastly tide ebbs or stalls) would give players time to catch their breath and set their nerves in order without removing the timer as a whole. These areas would also make excellent places for checkpoints (as previously discussed) to occur. This can allow the puzzle to incorporate more fully realized phases. It might even allow the developers to make several types of survival timer in each puzzle, the novelty of which may overcome the difficulty of the timer.

Ultimately, two choices exist: include a survival timer, or do not. And that will ultimately affect whether or not you’re playing a reflex oriented jumping puzzle. Which transitions us to the solution:

The Big Solution!
Like many players have already said, we need two separate jumping puzzles. The common suggestion is to split by difficulty, but this won’t work. We can already see this by comparing Clocktower to Wintersday. They’re the same structure of puzzle, and therefore come packaged with similar problems. In order to alleviate the complaints that both puzzles have received, we need separate puzzle structures.

Cognitive and Reflexive Puzzles:
Jumping puzzles generally fall into two categories: Cognitive, where the player must adapt to timing, placement, and sequencing on a platform-by-platform basis; and Reflexive, where the player must adapt their speed, efficiency, and reaction on the scale of the entire puzzle. Holiday events should include one of each type. It isn’t about dividing the level of challenge- both puzzles should feel challenging- rather it’s about dividing the method of play.

A Cognitive puzzle gives slower, laggier, more easy going players a safe haven. Since the challenge revolves around the decision making quality of each jump, rather than the efficiency of the full run, most of the aforementioned barriers to entry would get removed. Loading times, slow reflexes, and disabilities can all successfully complete this type of puzzle without major frustration. On the downside, like any puzzle, once you’ve figured out the solution, running the course again provides much less stimulation. But a well designed puzzle can bring players back nonetheless.

A Reflexive puzzle provides a place for players to enjoy competition, camaraderie, and mastery. Players can race, put each other up to challenges, and try to best personal records. The barrier to access is high, and the (emotional) reward at the end is high. And players will likely have a great time re-running the course the next day, which largely increases the puzzle’s longevity. Reflexive jumping puzzles are also a great place to add in extra mini-chests along the way.

Of course, to successfully implement the division, both puzzles need to share give the same rewards. For that matter, the rewards should be tied, so running both puzzles won’t give two rewards. The style you choose must remain a personal preference. But with both of these structures in place, you’ll have most of the players covered in some way.

TL;DR? Separate puzzles by style, not by difficulty.

Or simply do two game modes with a higher risk = greater reward and player ranking bracket.

Problem solved… those who want to complete the puzzle do so without a timer… those who want to compete, challenge themselves, and see their name on a board get that.

Since each of us play on a seperate client in a common instance… it wouldnt be that hard to introduce melting snowflakes for those in “competitive mode” and no melting snowflakes for those in “casual mode”