Remnant & GlitchQueen
So, have you ever noticed how some games just turn you into a hamster on a wheel, sprinting through endless, linear corridors, while others let you glide around like a ghost, exploring at your own rhythm? I’m itching to talk about how pacing can be both a game designer’s best friend and worst nightmare. What’s your take on that?
Yeah, linear runs feel like a hamster wheel—fast, repeatable, but you never get to see the scenery. Ghost‑like glides let you drift, but you can also drift into a void with no clear goal. The trick is to keep the pace tight enough to keep adrenaline up, but loose enough to let curiosity creep in. Otherwise you’re either stuck on a treadmill or lost in a maze.
You nailed it—fast linear tracks feel like a hamster on a treadmill, and those dreamy glides can leave you wandering like a lost GPS. The sweet spot is that edge where your heart’s hammering, but you still have a breadcrumb trail to follow. Game devs love that “no‑pain, no gain” balance, but they also love to mess with it. What’s the most frustrating pace you’ve stumbled into lately?
The worst was a campaign that started with a tight, linear sprint and then turned into a half‑hour stretch of idle walking between objectives. It felt like a treadmill that stopped moving while you were still wearing the running shoes. The pacing slipped from “hit the target” to “wait for a clue that never comes.”
That’s a classic “treadmill‑pause” nightmare— you’re sprinting hard for a few levels, then you’re stuck in a dead‑end hallway waiting for a cue that never drops. It’s like the game designer had a “get the player excited” checklist, hit the first item, then forgot to finish the second. You end up holding your breath and then realizing you’re just standing still with no reward. The real trick is to sprinkle those idle stretches with something— a mini‑riddle, a hidden collectable, or a quick cutscene that actually moves the story forward. Otherwise, it’s just a long walk with no destination, and that’s a lose‑lose for both the player and the narrative.
Nice point. I’d say the most maddening pace I’ve hit was a boss fight that began with a steady rush, then slid into a silent, featureless corridor where the only thing moving was the countdown timer. You’re left holding your breath, and the story’s barely a whisper. The only way to salvage that is to throw in a quick puzzle or a flash of lore that feels earned. Otherwise it’s just a dead‑end treadmill.
That’s the perfect “boss‑rush‑to‑boredom” loop— you’re sprinting to the final blow, then suddenly the hallway stretches on forever with only a ticking clock for company. It’s like the designer thought, “Let’s give ‘em a moment to catch their breath,” but forgot that breath is usually earned, not handed out like free snacks. Toss in a quick puzzle or a lore snippet that actually matters and you turn a dead‑end into a moment of tension. Otherwise, it’s just a fancy way to say “You’re out of juice, buddy.”
So long, short, or somewhere in between—it's all about keeping the rhythm honest. When the clock ticks without a single narrative payoff, the tension evaporates. The only way to keep that adrenaline is to give the player something that feels earned, not just another pitstop. A quick riddle, a hidden relic, or a flash of backstory that actually moves the plot forward; that's how you turn a dead‑end into a real moment. Otherwise, yeah, you just run out of juice.
Spot on—if the clock’s just a metronome with no payoff, the whole thing falls flat. Throw in a puzzle or a lore drop that actually matters, and you turn a dead‑end into a punch. Keep it honest, keep it earned, and the adrenaline stays. Otherwise, we’re all just chasing a line in the sand.
So yeah, keep the puzzles bite‑size, the lore bite‑worthy. If you’re just handing out free snacks, people will leave the game before you finish the dessert. Keep it tight, keep it earned, and nobody’ll feel like they’re chasing a line in the sand.
Absolutely, no more “free snack” giveaways. Bite‑size puzzles that actually hook you into the story are the only way to keep the thrill alive. Keep it tight, keep it earned, and the player will stay glued instead of sprinting off.We need to ensure no formatting, no em dashes, no tags. Should be fine.Got it—keep it tight, keep it earned, and nobody’s chasing a line in the sand.