Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts

Friday, 12 August 2011

Thoughts - Building Consistency and DLC, Fallout: New Vegas


This article explores the various narrative links contained in Fallout: New Vegas and its' three DLC: Dead Money, Honest Hearts and Old World Blues. As these links have been implemented with verisimilitude in mind, certain spoilers about all three DLC, as well as the upcoming Lonesome Road DLC, cannot be avoided - read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: As this post discusses how DLC can (with a bit of forward planning) help build consistency and thematic cohesion in the game world, several examples are brought. Day-1 DLC, such as "Prisoner of Stone" (Dragon Age: Origins) or the "Gun Sonata Pack" (Bulletstorm) should not be considered as true DLC as their purpose is to serve as an incentive to steer buyers away from used game markets (since said DLC are one-use codes). Such content is usually (if not always) developed concurrent to the main game; therefore analysis towards narrative expansion is rendered inconsequential.

One of Ulysses' markings in Old
World Blues, these are common...
Concerning DLC, the vast majority of released meta-content (consisting of narrative expansions, such as additional quests, plot lines etcetera) is usually disconnected, or at least remote, from the main world's plot and narrative - a good example would be Mass Effect 2's "Kasumi - Stolen Memory"; while the DLC provides an interesting narrative, it is largely unconnected to the main plot.

Fallout: New Vegas and its' DLC, however, follow a (relatively) unexplored method of interactivity between the main game and subsequent released content: while the DLC's themselves are mostly self-contained stories, effort has been made to "tie in" their characters, story arcs and (in some cases) lore to each other, as well as to the main game.

Though their function is, thus far
unexplained (though speculated).
A good example is the character of Christine, first appearing in Dead Money; through various dialogue paths, the player learns that Christine is possibly a romantic acquaintance of Veronica Santangelo's, a party member from the main game and has ties to Father Elijah (Dead Money's main antagonist) who, via Veronica's various conversations, is revealed to have been instrumental to both characters' story lines.

What is even more surprising, however, is that Christine is also referenced in Old World Blues, where she was captured and experimented upon (thus the scarring the player character notices when she's first introduced), while hunting down Father Elijah; it is heavily hinted that the events in Big MT result in Elijah's eventual discovery of Sierra Madre (as again, several mentions are made - mostly via environmental cues - about Big MT's involvement in designing and equipping Sierra Madre).

Christine, first shown in Dead Money
is revealed to have visited Big MT.
This unusual approach is taken to its' extremes with the character of Ulysses; the mysterious Courier mentioned in the main game as the original courier in charge of the Platinum Chip, therefore instrumental in the player character's involvement with the events of New Vegas. Ulysses is hinted at having a grudge against the player character, a concept (presumably) resolved in the final New Vegas DLC, Lonesome Road.

Several mentions are made across all DLC, as well as at certain points in the original game, that combine into an overarching story line leading into Lonesome Road; both Christine and Dog (Dead Money) reference Ulysses in the DLC's ending slideshow, Joshua Graham (Honest Hearts) makes a passing remark during his first encounter with the player and finally, Old World Blues contains several environmental props, dialogue and audio-only cues hinting at his involvement with Big MT. and the Christine/Elijah conflict.

The Think Tank has some cryptic
info regarding Ulysses.
While using such foreshadowing techniques is not unheard of in games (good examples include the Citadel Keepers in Mass Effect and the FFVII "Holy" materia), it is a rare example of advance planning and good storytelling that DLC can not only expand, but also tie in with the existing narrative, in a display more commonly found in comic books (see continuity).

Ultimately, using said techniques serves as an example that with proper forward planning, the narrative can transcend its' static nature and gain a more believable and quasi-dynamic feel; this, in result, helps the player immerse themselves into the game world, thus enhancing their experience considerably.


Resources
========
Fallout: New Vegas Wiki Page

Wednesday, 10 August 2011

Thoughts - Incorporating Clichés and DLC, Old World Blues


This article discusses how using stereotypes and genre clichés can improve the overall narrative experience, as seen in the Fallout: New Vegas DLC, Old World Blues. As describing such devices is unavoidable, there is a high degree of spoilers involved - read at your own risk.

Old World Blues is the third of
 four planned New Vegas DLC.
As of writing this post, Old World Blues is the latest (and so far, most popular) DLC for Fallout: New Vegas. The basic premise revolves around a pre-War research facility based under Big Mountain (referred to in-game as Big MT or Big Empty) which, after the onset of the nuclear holocaust, became isolated from the outside world; eventually, it developed myth-like properties as a no-man's-land where the horrors and wonders of pre-War technology would lay claim to even the most accomplished explorer.

The entire DLC is built around the science fiction clichés of the 50's - including mad scientists keen on making thunderous declarations of intention, semi-robotic wildlife gone mad from constant experimentation, secret underground laboratories built around (arguably) unethical goals and over-the-top contraptions that function based on quasi-scientific terminology. The initial goals, for example, revolve around retrieving the player character's brain, spine and heart, surgically removed and replaced with cybernetic surrogates at the DLC's onset; while never properly explained, the game's justification remains curiously consistent with the in-universe science and provides a mindset consisting of both hilarity and drama - helped by a running b-story about the previous Courier Six (the protagonist's predecessor), which will be the focus of a future post.

Meet the Think Tank, the greatest
collection of preserved brains...
The main cast is also steeped deep in said stereotypes; the "Think Tank", a collection of former scientists' brains preserved in floating mechanical constructs are a pastiche of various "mad doctor" archetypes, each developed expertly into a functioning, believable entity, consistent with the cosmology of the Fallout universe.

While the characters come across as over-the-top (understandable, as that's consistent with the genre the developers went for), they never devolve into caricatures of their selves, as each one has certain flaws and redeeming qualities worked expertly into their backgrounds (a personal favourite is Dr. Borous); conversely, they're all given a series of motives that fall definitively outside the good/evil spectrum of standard storytelling fare - there are no black and white motivations apparent here - while the ending is predictable to a degree, it still manages to convey logical motives for each character, helping flesh them out and give an additional layer of depth (even provoking a rare case of meta-thinking in Dr. Mobious' case).

...and face-monitors in the post-War
scientific scene.
None of this is apparent at a first glance, however; the true triumph of Old World Blues lies in its' ability to remain a light-hearted adventure despite the undercurrent of morally-ambiguous motivations and to the developers' credit, it manages to do that seamlessly, without the transition becoming readily apparent.

Moments of drama are gently replaced by hilarious encounters, such as the "School" encounter: tasked with running a "Communist Detection Simulation" (consistent with the USA of the 50's view of the world), the player runs a gauntlet constructed to resemble a school built by Dr. Borous. During the final run, the player encounters Borous' pet dog, cybernetically modified and conditioned to be lethally aggressive. As one of the possible outcomes, the dog dies, prompting Dr. Borous to deliver a tearful speech (incidentally a great moment of character development) which is then promptly interrupted by Dr. Mobious' robotic scorpions; in the ensuing fight the player is treated to a good deal of hilarious, over-the-top one-liners asserting Mobious' supremacy over the rest of the scientists in true sci-fi "camp" style - the shift of tone is almost imperceptible and always remains true to the in-universe rules and behaviours.

Apparently, a psychotic toaster fits
right in with the DLC's theme...
The secondary characters have also been infused with the same twist: The Sink, the player's base of operations within Big MT is populated by sentient household appliances, complete with distinct and (most importantly) likeable personalities; personal favourites include the "old army veteran" medical station and the "former blues singer" jukebox - each appliance is given a very distinct and stereotypical persona, adding up to a "community" of sorts, vibrant and (thankfully) cohesive as a whole.

...as does the mandatory giant
robotic scorpion boss.
In the end, what stands out the most isn't the characters, the locales or even the narrative; the entire experience is expertly weaved from its' components, justifying the adage "the whole is greater than the sum of its' parts". Such efforts should be applauded and used as an example in how even age-old stereotypes can be utilized in modern endeavours - with proper use, a cliché ceases to be a tired repetitive gimmick and instead becomes a solid foundation in the development process.



Resources
========

Tuesday, 9 August 2011

Thoughts - Using B-Stories and DLC, Dead Money



This article discusses the sub-plots woven into the Fallout: New Vegas DLC, Dead Money, and the value of using such devices to increase immersion. While attempts have been made during writing to the contrary, certain spoilers cannot be avoided - read at your own risk.

Dead Money, the first of four DLC
for Fallout: New Vegas...
The initial premise of Dead Money is a highly formulaic "Grand Heist" plot; forced into compliance by the enigmatic Father Elijah, the player must join forces with three similarly reluctant individuals to rob the legendary Sierra Madre casino - known throughout the Mojave wasteland as both a giant repository of wealth and technology, and a giant death trap which has claimed the lives of every single treasure hunter to ever venture in its' depths.

The aforementioned main plot is, in itself, highly enjoyable - the Sierra Madre village and casino proper are expertly designed, providing a much-needed break from the main game's areas; meanwhile, the heist itself plays out (and eventually resolves itself) in a few manners (left to the player's discretion) that are very satisfying and give a great sense of accomplishment. What really makes this DLC stand out, however, are the various b-stories woven into the narrative; the companions in particular have received a great deal of characterization and as a result really help the Sierra Madre legend come to life.

...starts, just like the other DLC, with a
mysterious radio signal.
What is perhaps the most unusual part of this approach is that Obsidian chose to expand  and build upon yet another b-story from the main game; namely, Veronica Santangelo's background (one of the possible companions the player can recruit during the course of the game) - Father Elijah is made out to have been her mentor during her formative years and was part of the reason she undertook the journey to the Mojave wasteland. 

The elusive Father Elijah, menacing
the player character.
This results in a double-edged sword, narrative-wise: on the one hand it's entirely possible to have skipped Veronica during the main game (and thus, have no prior knowledge of her relationship with Elijah), thus missing the entire background of said sub-plot; conversely, having taken the time to follow her character arc to its' conclusion, this b-story helps increase the player's immersion, by giving a more believable texture to the Sierra Madre tale, eventually leading into a few insights that carry over to the main game.

Which is not to say that the Elijah arc is the only one running for the duration of Dead Money; all three of the companion NPC's are intricately developed with a good deal of character flaws and redeeming qualities. Even the least explored of the characters, Dog (a super mutant suffering from multiple-personality disorder) is given enough depth so that he comes across as a believable (albeit slightly exaggerated) entity.

Dean Domino, former celebrity turned
ghoul by the excessive radiation.
Additionally, merit is due to the actual level design and environments, as they consist of a secondary narrative device unto themselves. From the abandoned villas, littered with the remains of a two-hundred year-long decline to decrepit ruins, to the actual casino facilities, populated for the most part by the still-functional defense mechanisms, the levels tell a story of decaying splendour and lost dreams - giving the Sierra Madre resort a life of its' own.

Christine, the mute but expressive
stealth specialist.
To this effect, the developers have used a great deal of visual cues to aid the storytelling: various warnings and threats are scrawled across the casino grounds, left either by long-dead visitors and treasure hunters or even the player's companions; several holographic avatars of former casino staff appear to be locked in an eternal replay of their owners' final moments; even the more mundane (and by now, industry staple) computer journals tell of a slew of stories, small snippets of their writers' daily lives that add up to give the Sierra Madre a rich, involving history that is believable and, above all, consistent enough to immerse the player in the experience.

Ultimately, while Dead Money certainly has a few faults (such as the arbitrary need to perform dismemberment to eliminate enemies and the constant chatter of the player's active companion, to name a few), it succeeds as a story well told, engaging and emotionally investing to the end.


Resources

Monday, 8 August 2011

Thoughts - Narrative and DLC, Honest Hearts



This article discusses the narrative delivery of the Fallout: New Vegas DLC, Honest Hearts. As such, certain spoilers cannot be avoided - read at your own risk.

In the past few years, the gaming industry has developed a new model of business, based on offering additional content for their released products for a (usually) nominal fee - downloadable content, or DLC. These often fall in one or more of the following categories:

* Level additions, such as map packs or game world extensions.
* Tool additions, such as weapon packs or unit roster extensions.
* Mechanics updates, such as increased level caps or additional skills.
* Narrative extensions, such as additional quests or "after-the-finale" scenarios.

Honest Hearts, Fallout: New Vegas'
(chronologically) second DLC...
This article concerns itself with the narrative aspect of DLC, specifically Fallout: New Vegas' Honest Hearts; namely, the faulty way in which the developers handled the narrative delivery.

Honest Hearts - a DLC that's arguably the weakest of the three released so far in terms of its' narrative delivery, mainly due to the mishandling of the character of Joshua Graham, a.k.a. the Burned Man. During New Vegas' main game, encounters with Caesar's Legion (a tribal-originated horde following the militant aspects of ancient Roman culture) yield the legend of the Burned Man: Caesar's right hand man, burned alive and thrown into the Grand Canyon as a punishment for his (single, as far as the game lets on) failure - his very name forbidden to be spoken.

...features one of the least interesting
main characters in the game
.
In Honest Hearts, Joshua Graham appears as one of the major NPC's and driving force behind the narrative, having survived (albeit terribly disfigured) and leading a small tribal band (the Dead Horses) in the remnants of Zion National Park, assuming the role of their protector against their territorial rivals, the White Legs. The main plot hook involves the player character choosing whether to assist the Dead Horses in either evacuating Zion Park or eradicating their rivals, in exchange for a way back to the Mojave desert (the main game's play area).

Bland, two-dimensional characters
that serve only as quest fodder.
At first glance, there are a number of good storytelling opportunities here; Joshua Graham is set up as a tragic figure, having abandoned his faith (the game hints at him being a former Mormon missionary) by joining, and to a degree leading, Caesar's Legion in their many atrocities (with great emphasis given on slavery and mass murders) and subsequently cast aside and left for dead - displayed as an example to all who would dare fail Caesar.

The problems begin to appear here, however, as the actual Joshua Graham the player meets in-game doesn't quite live up to the hype the main game perpetuates; where there is an opportunity to present him as either repentant or unyielding, he instead comes across as being bitter and vengeful - a missed opportunity for certain, accentuated by the relatively little screen time he receives - as a result he comes across as a bland, two-dimensional character with little depth or redeeming values.

Even the tribal characters appear to
be nearly devoid of  personality.
This is a problem in general with Honest Hearts, as every major character involved in it is either killed off at the beginning, or never receives enough character development to push past the point where they are given depth and emotional investment (on the player's part). Aside from Graham, there are a handful of characters that are integral to the story (to such a degree that if any of them die, the DLC reaches a premature "ending" of sorts) - this is never adequately explained, as the characters never appear to have anything much to actually do with the narrative aside from pointing the player to the next group of quests.

The most engrossing aspects of the
plot belong to Randall Clark...
Which is weird, seeing as there's at least some effort in the narrative development - it's even weirder that it's mainly focused on one of the minor, unseen characters in the DLC; the elusive "Father in the Cave". Scattered around Zion Park are six "survivalist caches", sheltered and protected by traps - these constitute a series of bases that Randall Clark, a former soldier and survivor of the nuclear holocaust, used throughout his post-apocalypse life; these are masterfully crafted, with layouts that feel intuitive and believable, being consistent with what a survivalist with military training would create and use in the Fallout universe.

...an unseen character that has left
behind several journal entries.
These havens, however, consist of only half the presentation; in each one is a computer terminal, containing Clark's journal entries - these tell a story of guilt, survival, the struggle to adapt to a rapidly-changing environment brought about by nuclear war and ultimately, self-redemption. As most of these entries correlate with the rest of the environments in Zion Park (several locations are consistent with the journals found nearby), Clark ends up being a much more compelling presence than the "main" characters - at times, piecing together Clark's story provides such better narrative than the actual plot that I couldn't help but wonder if he was meant to be the main focus in some early draft of the DLC, scrapped in favour of the more marketable "Burned Man".

Ultimately, it's interesting to note the dynamics brought about by this scenario, where secondary, "flavour" characters end up being vastly more interesting than the main characters - if only as a consideration in future development of narrative-heavy content.


Resources

Saturday, 18 June 2011

Thoughts - Implementing Interactivity in Turn-Based Gameplay

Turn-based gameplay (in this post, specifically combat) is an inherent aspect of certain genres, in particular role playing games; by design this sort of system relies, for the most part, in comparing statistics and making calculations between static variables, requiring no interaction from the player once the initial decisions of choosing targets and attacks are made.

Paper Mario - the player can use the
analog stick to "charge" an attack...
As such, this system limits the player's interactive choices past a certain point in the gameplay cycle; while they can influence the outcome beforehand (via increasing said statistics), during the actual combat step, the game "takes over" in a sense, while the player is left watching the animations play out until the encounter is resolved.

This is easily an area that leaves much room for improvement - in this article, we'll be looking at some ways developers have made steps to allow the player to influence the encounter's outcome by implementing some form of interactivity.

...or use a single-button press for
added effects; in this case, multi-jump.
The first (and perhaps better-known) example is Nintendo's Paper Mario series; at it's core, it's a turn-based role playing game in which the player controls Mario (as well as an ally of their choosing). During combat, the game allows for the standard interactions of this kind, with one exception: during the "resolution" phase (that is, during the animation part of each round) the player is given the opportunity to further influence the outcome by using quick-time events, in the form of button presses. For example, certain attacks provide the player with a button sequence which, when executed correctly within the time limit, will add a small amount of extra damage done to the target; on the flip-side, the player can mitigate a small amount of incoming damage by timing a button press just before the enemy graphic makes contact with their own.

Sonic Chronicles, on
the other hand...
This sort of interactivity takes a fair bit of balancing to work out; there should be a small, but significant benefit in correctly using the interactive controls without making them too powerful - in other words, the benefit can't be too high (thus killing off excitement and trivialising each encounter by making them "too easy" to a reflex-savvy player) nor too trivial (thus making it a redundant system by being "useless").

Additionally, the controls themselves need to be concise and simple - otherwise the game runs the risk of alienating players that have lower reflexive capabilities. Finally, penalties for unsuccessful execution should be kept to a minimum or, at the very least, balanced against the reward for success in such a way that it doesn't make the game seem "unfair" to the player.

A second example is the (relatively) recent DS game Sonic Chronicles: Dark Brotherhood game by BioWare; while the Paper Mario series treats interactive combat as a bonus, here it's a mandatory part, with a much higher reward/ penalty ratio (excluding the basic "Attack" function, which allows for no interaction).

...requires complex stylus
sequences to work.
Any "special move" in SC:DB provides the player with a sequence of on-screen prompts, which the player is required to follow for the move to be successfully used. For the most part, these moves allow for highly desirable effects (such as healing over time, damaging the entire enemy team in one round or inflicting status effects) at success, but also at a higher risk at failure; typically, failing to follow the prompts results in the move not being completed, as well as the resources used by it lost.

This sort of implementation has its' own merits - the sense of reward for success is much higher than the Paper Mario system, the interaction feels much more involving  and tension is built much better when the risks of failure are so high. On the other hand, this means that the game is inherently less appealing to certain demographics, such as the aforementioned less reflex-capable players.

One thing is certain, though: implementing interactivity in otherwise "static" traditional concepts of gaming is a worthwhile goal which, if done correctly, can breathe new life in tired old staples of certain genres.

Resources:
========
* Paper Mario: Virtual Console Official Web Site
* Sonic Chronicles: Dark Brotherhood Official Site

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Thoughts - Building Tension in (Horror) Games

In gaming, tension is a difficult emotion to instil to your audience; often, designers will resort to the much easier (albeit way less effective) technique of cheap scares, which have a tendency to lose gravitas after five or so uses.

Dead Space 2
 Box Art.
Case in point, Dead Space 2, the second instalment in the titular series. At its core, it's a third-person shooter game, mixed with horror elements most reminiscent of the Aliens series - that is, a protagonist set against an alien adversary in deep-space settings such as an abandoned starship (Dead Space) or an overrun space colony (Dead Space 2).

At the conceptual level, the series sounds like an excellent opportunity to offer a rich and compelling experience (and for the most part, it does) by mixing the adrenaline-inducing action sequences with the tension building most common in the horror genre. The game's designers certainly aimed in this direction, if the PR material is any indication.

In execution, however, it falls short.

By far the worst mistake this series does is its extreme reliance on trickery - that is, cheap scares in the form of enemy after enemy jumping out and charging at the player at every single turn of the game's environments.
The following template is followed verbatim in about 80% of the game's levels:

So long as you pay attention to
nearby vents and breakable walls...
*The player enters a (seemingly empty) room.
*Enemies enter the room from inconspicuous places (mainly ventilation shafts).
*The player kills every single enemy.
*The player spends about five minutes boot-stomping every enemy in his immediate vicinity (as the corpses drop additional valuables this way).
*The player executes any plot-advancing actions he is required to.
*The player exits the room, moves to new room. Repeat as needed.

...you, too, can kill off that pesky
tension the game hates so much.
Notice how predictable this template is? While there are a few set pieces in which the player is forced to flee in the face of truly overwhelming odds, the majority of the game is one huge monster mash - there is no tension, no intrigue, merely the mathematical certainty that each new room will bring a new wave of enemies to kill and loot.

While this might work well in an action title, a horror game (which to reiterate, is what Dead Space 2 sells itself as) needs to have some contrast between moments of action and moments of calm. Consider this alternative: What if the player only encountered enemies in, say, half the game's areas? What if, instead of relying on cheap startle tactics (such as enemies popping out of visually obscured areas), the game builds up tension by providing a few minutes of calm in between the actual encounters? What if, in the vein of "true" horror, the enemies are less common, thus preserving their "exotic" and "uncanny" status, instead of degrading them to mere loot containers?
Meet the horde: Visceral's greatest
weapon against atmosphere.

Tension is best generated during periods of calm that either lull the player into a false sense of security or instil uncertainty; after all, any perceived threats become increasingly menacing when they're unexpected. In the aforementioned Dead Space 2 example, entering two sequential rooms with no encounters could (potentially) magnify the impact of finally facing an enemy in the third room, precisely because the player would either not expect one or because they'd be uncertain of when the enemy appears.

This is just the beginning... literally.
Screenshot was taken in Chapter 3.
The problem here (from my viewpoint, at least) is that designers either confuse 'startle' with 'scare' or that they often find it difficult / undesirable to implement such atmosphere: Perhaps there is a push from publishers to appeal to a wider demographic (let's face it, true horror is a relatively small market in the grand scheme of things), or the tools used to build the experience don't lend themselves well to the target matter. Regardless, the potential is present here, as is apparent (in Dead Space 2's case) from the penultimate sequence (which manages to instil a moderate feeling of being helpless, much to the studio's credit).


Ultimately, it's worth remembering the age-old axiom: "Quality over Quantity". Limiting the enemies' flow will often work better than letting loose a huge, constant stream, especially when paced properly; designers with horror aspirations should take note, as tension can build a truly horrifying experience that will be remembered long after the actual game concludes.

Resources
=======
*Dead Space 2 Official Website
*Visceral Games Official Website

Friday, 20 May 2011

Thoughts - Expressions and Immersion

In my (gaming) conversations, I'll often carry on about immersion for hours, usually lamenting the lack thereof in modern games; in their quest for absolute visual fidelity, designers often rush past this small, but crucial part of game creation. Ultimately, this leads to a product that is visually pleasing, but will hurl the player out of the experience at every turn.

Stock-still characters with nary
expression nor emotion...
As an example, the recent Mass Effect games are a very good indicator of the priorities studios often set for themselves: in particular, Mass Effect 2 and the dialogue system. For the most part, the protagonist has one-on-one conversations with the various characters that populate the game worlds. This is where the first immersion rule is broken: the characters stand stock-still, never breaking eye contact with the player's avatar, droning their lines nearly devoid of emotion or (even worse) with voice inflections barely-or-not-at-all matching their animation.

...in quite a few places, as it turns out!
This is becoming increasingly common, as production studios grow and various aspects of development grow apart and more distanced from one another (in this case, voice acting and character animations). Worse, budget restraints often force artists to produce a few stock animations (calm face, angry face, happy face and a few variants thereof), so as to cut down on production time and, therefore, costs. This most often results in the aforementioned problem, with in-game avatars not quite matching their spoken dialogue.

L.A. Noire might be one of the first
games to "do it right"...
However, there are some conversations where Mass Effect 2 does make an effort to liven up; dialogue with Aria T'Loak at Omega's Afterlife Club springs to mind - here both characters converse in a more animated manner, often with gestures and subtle camera angles changing on a line-for-line basis. It is in parts like these that the game manages to convey a feeling of immersion, by fleshing out characters so they behave in a more believable manner, thus helping the audience (the player, in this case) suspend their disbelief and immerse themselves into the experience.

...if the PR releases are to be believed.
While there are no easy remedies to this problem, some companies have begun to invest in technologies that will, eventually, overcome the issue by giving far more advanced animation options to studios; Team Bondi/ Rockstar Games' L.A. Noire is such an example, using DepthAnalysis' MotionScan technique to more accurately convey character emotions via their in-game animations. It only remains to see how accurate this new technology is, though judging by PR material released, it's shaping up to be quite impressive.


Resources
=======

Aria T'Loak Conversation (YouTube Clip - Might contain spoilers)