Here’s a video showing some of the things that will be implemented in tomorrow’s update. The biggest addition will be Duraz, who at long last is fully voiced. The where do you want to explore next question came from not knowing how to do idle dialogue. I was able to transfer most of it to that section, but some of it I left for sentimental reasons, I think. I don’t remember.

The video also shows how even some of the more popular NPCs like Eldawyn need a bit of tweaking. Everyone loves her so I generally left her dialogue alone, but after playing around with it myself I figured some changes were necessary and scenes were added to the stories about her companions. Extra points if you notice the easter egg I put in there.

Lastly, there’s a preview of a new tavern song that’s currently just a small duet with Alassea for bard players but may be expanded later.

Happy 2-Year Anniversary, Interesting NPCs!

Okay, so I’m kind of wishing myself a happy birthday, or at least, this creation of mines and yours, but Interesting NPCs was first released two years and a day ago, on February 8th, 2012, so just like last year, I suppose I should write something about the mod to celebrate and tell you how I feel about the project two years in.

Last year, the theme of the post was time – how important it was to save it, and how much we all have to sacrifice to create this thing. Right now, I want to talk more about the notion of opportunity, and whether, if after two years of time, work, and effort, if there’s a feeling that we’re owed anything.

In all honesty, I think of this mod as a lottery ticket. Not in the way most people use that analogy, because it’s usually meant to describe someone who’s gambling on something with the ultimate goal of getting paid. I don’t think of this mod as a way to personal success. That’s the opposite of what I mean. Let me explain.

Now, it’s a popular saying to imply that lottery tickets are taxes for the poor. There’s some truth to this notion, because ultimately wealthy people aren’t the ones standing in line for the next Mega Millions Jackpot. Wealthy people don’t know how to dream. They’re living it.

However, even in my most cynical of days, I never thought buying a lottery ticket was a con. You aren’t paying to win the lottery, you’re paying for a chance to win. That distinction means something. You’re paying for that small bit of euphoria when you look at your numbers, those long hours debating with friends over what you’d buy, who was coming along for the ride, and who was getting the ejector seat. From the moment you make your purchase to the moment those numbers are drawn, that ticket allows you to escape your current reality. It allows you to dream.

Building this mod is something like that. I know there’s going to come a day when the numbers are drawn, when all of it goes poof. In the meantime though, I’m holding on to that tiny, sliver of a possibility that what we’re building here is something people will appreciate for years to come. This isn’t to say I’m some idealistic cunt who loves art and hates money. I actually have a stalker-esque relationship with money. I would very much like to have it, but it won’t return my phone calls. What I mean is, money is not expected. Success, recognition, and opportunity are not expected.

Because ultimately, there’s going to come a day when all the naysayers and cynics and haters will be proven right – in the end, I’m fairly confident this work will be just another mod in a sea of millions of other projects that people never knew enough about to care. That’s just the way it is.

Maybe that makes us all losers. But then again, when I bought my ticket, I was never playing to win.

On the western shore of the United States, there’s a theme park of some renown, what some may call the final form of our Manifest Destiny. Here, under the watchful guidance of Walt Disney Company Inc, you will be transported (via the enchanted parking lot) to a magical dreamworld, filled with employees whose primary job description is to be photogenic and smiling while interacting with the natives. This interaction does not require much in the way of coaching, as for the most part it is governed by a single, ironclad rule.

Don’t break character.

There are limits, of course. Captain Jack Sparrow cannot commandeer the nice woman’s Mercedes 500SL, hoist an Oakland Raiders flag on the hood and sail down the 405 while downing a bottle of rum. Yo Ho No, that is not allowed. What the Walt Disney Company asks is that its employees confine themselves to the rules of the universe as defined by current legislation. Thus Captain Jack does his best to be a charming, quirky, drunken but law abiding pirate, posing for pictures whilst casually slipping a note to Billy’s mother to inquire whether she would like to partake in sexual intercourse at a later date and time.

As a result, there is no grand theft auto, no lesson in the danger of dealing with pirates. The only theft that occurs is done legally, through the respected practices of corporate scrips, overpriced merchandise and unfair labor practices. Yet this is besides the point.

The point is, the rule of not breaking character is an important one, in that it works. The consequences for failing to adhere to said rule is immediate termination. As such, in the land of princesses, pirates, and Plutos, immersion is rarely broken. The same rule could be applied to games.

The first Neal Stephenson novel I ever read was The Diamond Age, which is analogous to watching The Matrix Reloaded before The Matrix (Needless to say I failed to understand the hullabaloo over the author until after I purchased my copy of Snow Crash). However, one thing I did enjoy about the age o’ diamond was the concept of the Ractor – actors whose everyday job was to play a role in a virtual reality.

I imagine a typical (r)actor would wake up every morning, log into the universe, and play the role of a shopkeeper, farmer, or tavern wench. They would respond to all the player’s banter, inane or quest related, sticking to that most sacred of rules, never break character. When the actor logged off to resume their daily life, the NPC would sleep, and if awoken they would offer a handful of pre-recorded responses, while politely asking the player to go to bed. The hours would be staggered, the work days varied, all to ensure the world achieved verisimilitude. This is a game I would like to play.

You may see where this is going. This is partly because you are clever, but mostly because you are reading a blog about Interesting NPCs. However, the goal of the mod is not to become a magical kingdom (although it could be easily bought by Walt Disney Inc, for the right price, interested buyers please contact my agent for details). The NPCs have been given dialogue that offers both freedom of choice and freedom from choice, because while the responses are varied, they ultimately keep you on topic. You cannot grief the actor and try to poke them like the Queen’s Guard, because the actor has already recorded their lines. Their character is unbreakable. The goal isn’t realism, but immersion.

If virtual reality is a defibrillator, then Interesting NPCs is mouth to mouth, with a little bit of tongue action. It is a simple and easy way to give your universe life.