Rhakaa Story Document

Another project I worked on for a short time was called Astrae, a puzzle platformer set deep in an alien installation. The player is a young explorer who gets embroiled in a conflict between the last two avatars of the Rhakaa, a long-dead civilization of avian warriors. My first task was to write about what Rhakaa life was like during the reign of their empire.

Unfortunately, my graduate school studies cut into my ability to work on this delightful game and I had to step away from the project. Please give the development team some of your time and check out the progress they made on their unique property.


The Rhakaa (Ere’kh for ‘the Risen’) were a bipedal humanoid species. They were believed to have stood upwards of seven feet tall, with long claw-like appendages and fringes of feathers attached to their arms and legs. Rather lean and muscular, they had the ability to leap to high locations with ease and even glide for short distances.


The Rhakaa civilization, from the few records available, spanned nearly 10,000 years of history, originating from the planet Aramkesh (‘Land of Ancients’). Early information shows they lived in various disorganized clans, until many of the clans united under the leadership of the Rhakaa who would become the first Emperor, Corthayx I. Instituting a harsh, militaristic caste system, he conquered much of the territory on Aramkesh during the Unification and ruled over a warrior culture that culled any weaknesses or imperfections. He founded the empire’s capital, Teryx, which became a major trade hub over the course of centuries.

It is not known how or when the Rhakaa achieved spaceflight, but at some point in their empire, a technological renaissance occurred and soon after, their empire exponentially expanded, claiming planets with ease and even expanding outward to new star systems. It was also around this point that the Rhakaa began to experiment with cybernetics and genetic engineering, fine-tuning their biology to push their bodies beyond what was considered possible. Over the course of millennia, as their DNA became more and more modified, it became aware that their genetic code was rapidly unraveling and mutating, placing their society in imminent peril of destruction. A coalition of members of various castes, under the leadership of the last emperor, Xanthot III, set to the task of building Aerie sanctuary facilities to study the degradation and develop a cure. The afflicted were placed into stasis and the healthy were divided into two groups: those who would defend what remained of the empire, and those who actively researched a cure. As their numbers dwindled, the remaining Rhakaa created AI Overseers to run the facilities and assist in the research. Ultimately, the last of the Rhakaa entered stasis, now completely relying on the Overseers to save their people.

Aerie Keshkaa-0 is the only such facility whose location is currently known. The facility is maintained by Overseers Seq and Myz, named after the Primes Seq’rha the Elegist and Myzandir the Centurion. The two performed as programmed, with Seq developing a fondness for the Rhakaa and Myz becoming more assertive and experimental. When the final Rhakaa went into stasis, Seq began to pressure Myz into developing a cure for their creators, while Myz kept up security measures to keep the creators’ safe from the enemies that encroached upon their territory. As supplies dwindled and became virtually nonexistent, Myz attempted to wrest control of the Sanctuary out from under Seq. In retaliation, Seq restricted Myz’s access to the facility’s systems, further slowing down research. The conflict eventually came to a head when Seq attempted to regain full access to the Sanctuary, resulting in a degradation of the facility and the main generator to malfunction. Backup power was eventually restored, but the Rhakaa stasis pods had been too badly damaged in the outage. By the time repair drones were sent to fix the pods, the Rhakaa were long-since dead.


The Rhakaa are obsessed with perfection and, as a result, their desire to achieve perfection is reflected in every aspect of their life. The symbol of the Rhakaa is the Hexagon, where each side represents one of the Six Virtues of Rhakaa culture: Tenacity, Ferocity, Sagacity, Vitality, Adaptability, and Austerity. Rhakaa architecture expresses this obsession with the hexagon. Their structures are linear with harsh, imposing shapes and angular geometry contrasted with the organic world surrounding them.

The Rhakaa are quick to remove any sort of weakness from their ranks. As a result, many Rhakaa do not live past adolescence. Those that do are given the opportunity to prove themselves in the  Ritual of the Claw, a week-long coming-of-age ceremony and series of tests, which ultimately determines the caste each Rhakaa will be a member of; until the Ritual, Rhakaa children are borne into the caste of their parents. Trials of strength, intelligence, and durability push each Rhakaa to the test, with those that survive becoming the next paragons of Rhakaa culture.

The Rhakaa do not believe in deities, instead opting to worship the ancient champion Primes of their people. All Emperors are included in this pantheon of Primes, as well as those who gave up much, including their lives, to protect Rhakaa civilization. Different Primes are called upon to assist in numerous situations; Zhaquir the Fastidious, for example, is channeled when Rhakaa are called to make a tough situation about their own lives or futures.


The Rhakaa are ruled over by a singular Emperor, who assigns various Viscounts to govern over the regions of the Rhakaa Empire. The Empire was founded by Corthayx I the Sovereign, and his bloodline continued to rule over the Rhakaa until the last emperor, Xanthot III the Unguis.

Viscounts are determined by the current living emperor and can be replaced at any time, if the Emperor sees fit. One record indicates that a number of Viscounts planned to overthrow Emperor Takhirius I the Nefarious; in response to this potential coup, Takhirius had every Viscount replaced, with each new lord having to slay their predecessor. Rarely has such a culling of Viscounts occurred during the Rhakaa’s reign.


After completing the Ritual of the Claw, each new Rhakaa adult would begin military training and service. The Rhakaa military was divided up into several ranks. Hunters made up the frontline troops and served under Greatwings, commanders that also acted as law enforcement for the Empire. Shadowsteps worked as scouts, envoys, ambassadors, and even spies.

Although the Emperor ultimately presides over the military, each Emperor also assigns a Suncrest general to advise in tactical situations and, in rare cases, act with impunity.

Special thanks to Leonora Moran and the Laguna College of Art and Design, for turning me onto this project.


We’ll Save the Princess! Documents

Though this project ultimately never came to fruition beyond a short demo, We’ll Save the Princess! was a fun strategy role-playing game I designed, tasking players to traverse a fantasy world and complete random confrontations within a certain time frame. Part-Oregon Trail, part-Final Fantasy, this game would feature over one hundred unique encounters, ten playable classes, and multiple endings and milestones to reward players across playthroughs.


These slides would have been used during the introduction cutscene. Click an image to scroll through and read the game’s backstory.

Character art for two playable classes, the Ranger and the Rogue, and a Bandit enemy.

Perhaps one day, Princess will see the light of day. Until then, however, these documents will remain as a testament to this amusing little project.

Special thanks to Mike Stimpson, Logan Jensen, and Kevin Hewitt, for their roles in the development of this property.


Aortic Defender

Do you have what it takes to safe the internal city of Christown from viral threats? In this short tower defense game, players take the role of Anne T. Bodie, a gunslinger who uses her immunoglobulins to protect her home from bacterial invaders.

This was another project on which I was designer and producer, creating different tower and enemy types. Part of my goal was to give the game a sense of “realism”, giving the units names and properties that attempted to match their real-world counterparts. Each tower is a different form of white blood cell and enemies are different viruses.

Download Aortic Defender

Special thanks to Joshua Smith, Kevin Hewitt, Sasha Conaway, and Ellen Beizer, for their role in developing this short project.

Slow Down or You’ll Die!!

What sort of monster would create a video game about falling off of a building?

Me. I would. That’s what I did.

Another project for my game development studies at university, Slow Down or You’ll Die!! is my attempt to create a short, 30-second game. It’s easy to control, but one wrong movement, and you can end up like ketchup all over the concrete. It’s a relatively simple game, made purely to showcase my capabilities as a game designer. I hope you make it to the bottom.

Download Slow Down or You’ll Die!!

Special thanks to Julien Fournell, for his help with the programming.

Super Han Solo

So I heard you like Star Wars

Well, what a coincidence, because I do, too! In fact, Star Wars is probably the biggest influential piece of media on my personality. A New Hope is one of the first movies I have the memory of watching, so obviously it was hugely fundamental in forming me into the beautiful ball of nerd that I am today. Between that and my excitement towards the then-newly released The Force Awakens, I felt obligated to create an homage to it.

Which leads to Super Han Solo. Beginning as a project for a Level Design class, I created a short platforming level, where you can control Han Solo as he races across the Tatooine desert to reach the Mos Eisley cantina. Along the way, there are Millennium Falcon tokens to collect, falling pitfalls to avoid, and Chewbaccas to placate.

Download Super Han Solo

Special thanks to Derek Prate, for writing the base code.

Memories of the Grey: 2014 in Gaming

Well, a year has come and past, and as always, a slough of video games have been released. Some were great, some were followed by controversy, and some have made impacts on people in the strangest ways. I always fondly look back on some of the memories of gaming I have in a given year, but as the calendar pages fall, it gets harder and harder to remember those recollections of the past. This is why I want to record some of my thoughts on moments in gaming that have impacted me. In no particular order, with no particular amount, these are some of my favorite moments of 2014.

[WARNING: Minor spoilers throughout]

Making Friends in Buttland

The Animal Crossing franchise is one of my favorite series. Not only is it an entertaining life simulator, it taught me a lot of important life lessons growing up, including keeping promises, being a responsible homeowner, and being a courteous and friendly neighbor. When I finally got a 3DS, one of the first titles I picked up was Animal Crossing: New Leaf, the newest installment to the series (yes, it took me nearly two years to get it; that’s why I’m putting it in this article). But the villagers made a grave mistake: they put me in charge of the town! I would become the mayor of a new town, one I knew nothing about, and it would be my responsibility to take care of the townspeople and cultivate the town and turn it into a major metropolitan center. So, of course, I made it my first task as newly-elected mayor to name the village Buttland. Who wouldn’t abuse power like that? Although our name is laughable, the townspeople are as cordial as they were in the original GameCube version I played fourteen years ago. And with the new features added in this release, including customizing the town with new construction projects, I can give back to the villagers who have helped to enrich my understanding of gaming beyond a form of entertainment.

Making Enemies in Mordor

When I first heard of Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor, I thought nothing of it, remembering the last time I got excited over a Lord of the Rings game. But as the reviews came in, it sounded more and more intriguing, until I finally relented and picked up a copy for my Playstation 4. Needless to say, I was immediately blown out of the water by how good the game was. The controls were extremely tight, making it satisfying to take on legions of uruks at once; the amount of content kept me playing and exploring Mordor and Nurnen for all of the hidden artifacts and weapon upgrades; and the story was involving and interesting, putting me in control of the Gondorian ranger Talion and his connection to the elven wraith Celebrimbor. The coolest part of the game, however, was the Nemesis system that was developed for it. In short, each and every uruk you come in contact with has his own strengths, weaknesses, and personality. If you’re killed in battle, the uruk that killed you rises in the ranks of Sauron’s army, and each injustice you commit upon the uruks is remembered. It’s a great way to constantly build new conflicts for the player and keep him or her involved, with a non-stop cycle of revenge. No matter how many uruks the Black Hand sent my way, my blades were always ready to meet them.

A Telltale Heart

Honestly, Telltale is probably my favorite developer at the moment. I grew up playing point-and-click adventure games like Day of the Tentacle and The Curse of Monkey Island, so when the original The Walking Dead game was announced by the same company that made the Back to the Future and Sam and Max episodic series, I was intrigued by the concept of a story-heavy game that changes based on how you play it, very much like Heavy Rain. Admittedly, I’m not a fan of The Walking Dead comic books or TV show, so I didn’t pick the game up when it came out, but as more and more praise for the game came to light, I decided to purchase the first episode. And then the second. And then the entire first season. I won’t lie, I cried for a solid ten minutes at the end of the first season. It was that good. So color me excited when Telltale, the same company that released one of the few games that have ever made me weep, released FOUR story-based games throughout 2014: The Wolf Among Us, Tales from the BorderlandsGame of Thrones and the second season of The Walking Dead. And you’re goddamn right that I’ve played each of them and enjoyed every single episode. It’s rare for a company to release two different games in the same year, let alone four excellent games, and each of Telltale’s releases have been extremely entertaining and emotionally investing. I can’t wait to see what else they release. Except for Minecraft: Story Mode. Fuck that.

Five Nights Crapping My Pants in Fear

Have I ever mentioned that I hate horror games? No? Well, let me make it perfectly clear: I fucking hate horror games. Jump scares and frightening atmosphere really do not tickle my fancy. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good horror game every now and then, but it means I have to sprinkle plenty of kittens in between each sessions as eye bleach. That being said, Five Nights at Freddy’s is a great example of a game that achieves both the tension of the upcoming jump scare with the additional benefit of a creepy tone. Every moment, you wonder if you’ll be attacked by the animatronic nightmares that infest the rundown Chuck E. Cheese’s knockoff, or whether having both doors closed with 3% battery life is enough to survive those extra few second to 6:00am. One of the craziest aspects of this monstrosity that some people consider “entertainment” is how well the story is integrated into the environment, with hints and clues dropped throughout without explicitly revealing the true nature of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. The creator, Scott Cawthon, was even able to turn around and produce a sequel equally as terrifying only three months after the original’s release; he’s even working on a third iteration of the series at this very moment. Maybe playing these will help to calm my nerves and play horror games with a relaxed attitude in the future. Or they’ll bring nightmares. Probably the latter.

Kojima, You Evil Genius

I know I just got through with saying that I hate horror games, but I was, at the very least, titillated by the notion of a game co-directed by Guillermo del Toro and Hideo Kojima. So when it was revealed that the rather curious and mysterious PT was actually the two’s teaser for a new Silent Hill game, you can guess what my reaction was. Entitled Silent Hills, players will take control of Daryl Dixon and explore a town and subconscious haunted by the sins of the past. Even though I normally don’t enjoy horror games, I decided to download the playable teaser anyways, as I love del Toro’s directing style and Kojima’s mad-scientist approach to game design. Needless to say, I had to put the controller down a few times for fear of shattering it in my hands as I screamed in terror. The game, or rather, teaser, was legitimately one of the scariest experiences I’ve ever had when playing games. Yes, even more frightening than the aforementioned Five Nights at Freddy’s. It was sanity-breaking, filled with cryptic puzzles and annoying solutions. But you know what? I enjoyed it. This was a horror game that I honestly can say that I had fun playing because of the sole fact that it is a teaser; it’s a demonstration of the direction and tone that Kojima and del Toro will explore in the final version of the game. The gameplay and story may not be indicative of the final product, but if Silent Hills is as good as PT, then I’ll be picking up a copy right after I buy a new load of toilet paper.

Returning to the Apocalypse

Anyone who knows me knows that I love The Last of Us. When I initially picked up a copy of the game, I sat down and progressed non-stop through the nail-biting, heartstring-pulling, incredibly scoped post-apocalyptic adventure. It quickly rose to become one of my favorite games of all time due to…every element. Everything Naughty Dog accomplished in the game seemed to push the boundaries of what video games can do. So when a remastered version, with 1080p resolution and enhanced textures, Photo Mode, and the Left Behind DLC included, was announced, I knew I had to add it to my newly-formed collection of PS4 games. Now, I want to quickly address my thoughts on remastered games: I think they can be a good thing, when the developers make much-needed improvements and additions that really make the experience worth the price-tag. Often, however, remastered games can be released that detract from the impact of the original game, so I’m usually wary of remakes. The Last of Us Remastered is a masterpiece of a remake, as the developer’s goal of maintaining the core experience of the original game was achieved.

Who is that dashing man in the green flannel? Is that Troy Baker?

Yours truly as Joel, joined by the lovely Tess and Ellie.

The World Plays Pokemon

I haven’t picked up a Pokemon game in a long time. I was a fan of the trading card game and the anime, but I was rather young and not as enraptured by video games when the original Red and Blue were released in North America. I picked up the games later and enjoyed them, but I do not often go out of my way to play the newer titles; I don’t care what anyone says, there’s an inordinate amount of ridiculous pokemon in every generation. Yes, there is a keyring pokemon now, but many people also forget about Magnemite and Exeggcute. But I digress. The reason I bring up Pokemon is because of its continued popularity throughout the years, so much so that an anonymous Australian programmer wrote a code that allowed user inputs from the streaming website Twitch to control the game. That’s right: the audience would be able to control RED in his journey to become the Master Trainer of Kanto. Of course, this led to trolls and sadists alike to impede progress when possible, as well as fans creating an entire culture and mythology around it. Fake religions were created around the fossil pokemon Omanyte (praise be unto Lord Helix) and Kabuto, wars declared over the Anarchy/Democracy mechanic, and an entire subculture was formed around one programmer’s dream to bring the world together, and simultaneously tear it apart, over a game.

Rise of Glitches

Never change, Sonic. Never change from the strange and often broken games, with diametrically-opposed mechanics and abundant glitches, that we’ve come to know and…love is a strong word, actually. Honestly, I’ve never understood how Sonic survived all of these years. He’s the only gaming mascot I know who is popular primarily because of his, admittedly genius, design. Many of Sega and Sonic Team’s previous attempts to revitalize the character have been rather…well, see for yourself. Perhaps rather intelligently, Sega worked with BigRedButton to reboot the franchise into a new series of games and a television show. The result was Sonic Boom. I mean, the new character designs were interesting and BigRedButton was started by former members of Naughty Dog, so how bad could the reboot be? …oh, that bad. The game was filled to the breaking point with repetitive combat, poorly-written dialogue, and near-constant graphical and gameplay glitches. Some speedrunners even figured out, using a recently-repaired glitch involving Knuckles’ jumping mechanic, how to beat the game in less than an hour (shown above). Sonic will always have a special place in my heart, right next to the soul-crushing void left there by my ex-girlfriend. Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric affects me the in same way that she-devil did, too: hooking me in with a cute look and promises of hours of fun, leading to a broken mess that could only be ended with my sanity no longer in tact. Rest in peace, Sonic.

A Real Dragon Age Redemption

dragon age

My relationship with the Dragon Age series has been rather hot and cold (hot like dragon’s fire, am I right?) I immensely enjoyed my experience with Origins, albeit with minor complaints throughout that ultimately did not detract from my experience with the Bioware callback to adventure games. Dragon Age II, however, was a thorough disappointment in nearly every aspect. Unlike Rise of Lyric, it was at least free of glitches, but the cardboard characters, the repetitive combat, and the abysmal graphics did not convince me to continue being a fan of the franchise. So when Dragon Age: Inquisition, the third part of the series, was announced, I was obviously quite wary. I shuddered to think of the broken or tedious game that I thought was sure to be released. Color me surprised, then, when reviewers unanimously joined together to praise the Maker and chant devotion towards Inquisition. Deciding to return to Thedas once more, I cautiously placed the disc into my PS4 and, almost immediately, my worries were washed away like the Temple of Sacred Ashes was in that opening explosion. Thedas felt truly realized in this game, with large and open segments brimming with hidden secrets and details just waiting to be explored. Each character was intriguing, interesting, and entertaining (especially Sera), with character motivations and personalities that ran deeper than the surface level; I’m looking at you, Sebastian Vael. The gameplay was the right balance of strategy and fast-paced action that was attempted in the previous games but never truly perfected until now. If I was told three years ago that Dragon Age: Inquisition would be my favorite game of 2014, I would call myself crazy (I do call myself crazy, but that’s neither here nor there). That being said, Inquisition was easily the best game I played last year and I find myself returning every now and then to see how the Inquisition is managing the newly-repaired world.

Gaming has certainly been an interesting experience in 2014. With titles like The Order: 1886Code Name: STEAM, and The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, 2015 is shaping up to be equally as interesting. Until next time, and remember:

Ludonarrative Dissonance in Modern Gaming

Woah, that’s a pretty wordy title. Let’s see if we can condense and contextualize it.

When we play video games, we experience the gameplay (ludology) and the story (narratology) attempting to entertain and immerse us in the game’s universe (no, this won’t be a talk about hyperreality and immersion, but it is related). Developers want us to be immersed in the games they create; they want us to continue playing the game so we praise it and help the developer to sell more units. It really is as utilitarian as it seems. When we cannot immerse ourselves, we aren’t entertained by the game, and we either sell the game back to a retailer, tell our friends not to buy the game, or both. This is something developers attempt to work against. However, due to the sole fact that the game is, in fact, a “game” and not reality, the gameplay often comes into conflict with the story the game is attempting to tell. This, when gameplay and story contradict one another, is ludonarrative dissonance.

The term was first coined by game developer Clint Hocking, in a 2007 article about how the themes of selflessness presented in Bioshock‘s story are at odds with the rewards of selfishness in its gameplay. I’m going to outline how three modern video games, all released in 2013, are affected by this contention of gameplay and storytelling.

Tomb Raider

Tomb Raider acts as a prequel to the critically-acclaimed franchise. Before she became a world-famous archaeologist and adventurer, Lara Croft goes on her first exploration on a deserted Japanese island, shrouded in mystery and mythology, as she attempts to find her friends after their ship crashes offshore. Stumbling through the forest, she is even squeamish about killing deer for food; she is uncomfortable with weapons. Fast-forward a little bit and she’s attacked by a crazed man attempting to rape and murder her. In an act of self-defense, she shoots the man, killing him. Before this point, you are not given any weapons. As you play, however, you learn to pick up items, interact with the environment, and finally, you’re given the ability to fight against humanoid enemies with weaponry. Within the process of play, you’re taught how to affect the environment with your items, and so when you finally get your hands on a gun, you use your gamer instincts to kill. And kill. And kill. You slaughter hundreds of humans throughout the remainder of the game without a second thought. The game inherently encourages your acts of violence while telling you that Lara is discouraged by them. What should be a difficult and traumatic act for Lara has become trivialized in the context of action-adventure gameplay. Though the game attempts to make Lara more comfortable with killing after shooting her would-be-rapist in the head, it doesn’t make sense how she is now okay with mowing through other people as easily as a war veteran.

Bioshock Infinite

The protagonist of Bioshock Infinite, Booker DeWitt, is given a task by enigmatic figures, who tell him to “Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt,” a vague set of instructions that has the private detective travelling to the paradisaical city of Columbus, hidden above the clouds, to steal away Elizabeth, the daughter of the city’s leader and chief religious figure. Given the importance of this task, and the fact that you’re being chased by the city’s police force for being a False Prophet, you would expect to find and extract Elizabeth as quickly as possible. But between fighting through Father Comstock’s unending army, you search through trash cans and alleyways to find health-replenishing food. Booker becomes the epitome of a glutton, chasing away seagulls for a few bites at a half-eaten hot dog. Finding restorative items makes sense to us as gamers; the character is hurt and needs to replenish his/her health. You can accomplish this by using medical kits found throughout the city, but as these are few and far between, your primary source of healing comes from sifting through the Colombians’ refuse.

I want to quickly address, however, a concern that many analysts had with Bioshock Infinite‘s gameplay, chiefly the amount of violence in it. Most critics had an issue with the fact that the gameplay was violent, as this did not reflect the nature of Booker’s character, in a similar vein to Lara Croft in Tomb Raider. However, the violence in Tomb Raider is dissonant because Lara goes from never having killed to massacring hundreds with barely any transition; she does not come from a violent background. Booker, on the other hand, is a veteran of the Wounded Knee Massacre, where over 150 Lakota Native Americans died. Booker is a war veteran who has experience with violence and weapons. The fact that he fights through Comstock’s forces in Columbia is not a ludonarrative issue.

The Last of Us

The Last of Us, despite being my favorite game of 2013, is not free from the grips of ludonarrative dissonance. Twenty years after a fungal epidemic plagues the planet, grizzled smuggler Joel attempts to escort Ellie, a young girl who is somehow the key to a vaccine, across the country. The visuals are breathtaking, the story is heart-wrenching, and the gameplay is…well, it has problems. It’s your standard third-person shooter, with the added difficulty of stealth and survival horror elements. Going into an encounter guns-blazing is not the best option, so you’re forced to scrounge for materials in a post-apocalyptic world and take out soldiers, gang members, and Infected as sneakily as possible. Each of these elements adds to the narrative the developers are trying to create, but in an effort to ease frustration on the part of the player, they have instead created a hilariously dissonant gameplay element: Ellie cannot be seen in stealth. Sure, enemies can attack and grab her once you’ve made your presence known, but while you’re skulking in dark corners, the AI cannot see Ellie, even when she’s literally right in front of them. Yes, it makes sense from a gameplay perspective to not punish the player for the work of the companion AI, but from a narrative perspective, it makes little to no sense why these bloodthirsty and vicious enemies don’t notice a fourteen-year old, foul-mouthed, badass girl.

Ian Bogost, in his article on procedural rhetoric, discusses how the inherent rules of a video game can reflect and make arguments about the real world because of its interactive nature. Each of the aforementioned games attempt to follow this process by having a story that is reflected through its gameplay. However, when the gameplay and storytelling elements clash, it is ultimately the gameplay that wins out because of the very definition of a game: it is a digital, interactive, structured form of play. Storytelling and art can be part of how the game is experienced, but it is the rules and forms of play itself that inform how a game truly is a game. So because the story is so integral to these games, to the point where it can affect how the gameplay is experienced, ludonarrative dissonance occurs and we are forced to reconsider the processes by which we create and enforce the rules of a game.