Capping Off The Week

This week, Phinney, Reid, Kevin, and Scott (who you’ll get to meet soon) piled into a car and took a trip to Vancouver, Canada. Their destination? Animatrik, a company that specializes in motion capture animation. If you’ve ever seen behind the scenes footage of people running around in tights with little reflective balls all over them, that’s mocap, and it’s been used in movies for years. As it’s evolved over the past fifteen or so years, though, it’s also become an important tool for game developers.

To give you guys some insight into what motion capture is, how it works, and how it’s going to apply to Class3, I sat down with Reid to learn more about what our recent session was like. Read on to see what he had to say!

What is mocap and how is it different than traditional animation?

Motion capture records the movements of a live actor onto a set of controls called a rig. The rig controls the movement of the character model. You know those tight suits the actors wear, covered with a series of markers? The markers are what actually gets recorded and through a lot of crazy math, gets translated on to the rig.

Mocap is a great way to get realistic motion in a short amount of time. While hand-created keyframe animation can create realistic movement, the process is really consuming, and you still wouldn’t capture all the subtleties that you can get from mocap.

Traditional keyframe animation is very good for stylized movement and stylized characters, and for the “realistic” motion of fantastic creatures like dragons. Obviously, you can’t mocap something that doesn’t exist!

A lot of people recognize the mocap suits that actors wear, but how does the process actually work?

A bunch of cameras track the position of the little white markers on the actors’ mocap suits, which are used to triangulate the position of the actor’s actual joints. The data is then converted into rotational joint information that’s put on the skeleton. (A lot of markers and a lot of math are involved because they haven’t figured out a way to put the markers inside the actors yet. :) ) Once this  motion is on the skeleton, we translate it again to the character’s animation controls (which we refer to as the “rig”).

In the end, the animation ends up on the character in the same format as it does when I keyframe it. The only difference is that mocap data puts a key on every frame (that’s 30 keys per second of animation), which requires different animation techniques and tools to edit the dense amount of data that motion capture gives you.

For cinematics, if you plan correctly, get a good performance from the actors, and get good motion from the mocap studio, the animator shouldn’t have to edit much. Gameplay motion is a whole different thing — that requires a lot of editing.

What do you look for in a motion capture actor?

Since we were shooting both cinematic and gameplay styles for this session, we were looking for people that were both good actors and had strong physical and athletic skills.

For our cinematic shoot, the actors just ran through the scenes like they would if they were on stage performing a play, and we captured their motion in large chunks. For these sequences we’re primarily looking for acting ability.

On the other hand, the gameplay part of the shoot required the actors to perform specific actions in small pieces, which can feel pretty counterintuitive or unnatural. For example, if a character picks up an object and then throws it, the acting sequence might be broken up like this: the character is standing still (one shot), the character picks up an object (second shot), the character stands with the object in their hands (third shot), the character throws the object (fourth shot), and finally, the characters returns to a casual standing state (fifth and final shot). For an actor who’s used to following typical stage directions to just pick something up and throw it, that can be a jarring experience!

It sounds like mocap is pretty specialized. How do you go about finding the right actors?

Well, in our case, one of the actors we used was highly recommended by Animatrik and the other was recommended to Animatrik by someone who had worked with him in the past. Most mocap studios will know talented local actors from past projects, and they’re usually happy to recommend them. When that approach doesn’t work, you can hold casting calls where actors and their agents can send you resumes, demo reels, and things like that.

Once you find someone that looks good, you typically hold auditions to make sure they’re a good fit for what you need. (Since our guys came highly recommended from people we trusted, we actually skipped this step.)

What’s a mocap session like? Tell us what you guys did when you were up there!

The session started out with breakfast provided by the studio. While we ate, we got acquainted with the team and the actors. We also went over some of the scripts for the acting portion and some of the action for the gameplay portion. Once the actors had their suits on and everything was calibrated, we had them go right into the acting.

Phinney and Kevin took turns directing the storyline scenes. Before each scene was recorded, they prepped the actors on things like where to be on stage, how the characters they were playing should behave, what their personality and state of mind should be during the scene, and how intense or subtle the scene should be. I chimed in a little bit on some logistical things, like the placement of the objects they were interacting with. The actors also had some great ideas and added a lot of personality on their own.

After the acting section of the session was complete, it was my turn to direct gameplay stuff. I coached the actors on the speed and strength in which they should perform an action, judging the motion on if I thought it I could easily make it loop or not. I also tried to get them to start out in an idle pose, do an action in place, and then end the motion in the same idle pose. That will make the animations blend much more smoothly when you actually put them in the game.

How long do mocap sessions usually take?

Our day consisted of two 3 to 4 hour blocks. In both cases, we started with cinematic scenes and moved on to action sequences.

The morning session started with breakfast, paperwork, and studio and actor set-up at 8:00 am. We started shooting at 9:30, then broke for lunch at 12:30. After talking zombie games, guns, and Skyrim with cast and crew, we went back into shooting at 1:30 and were scheduled to start wrapping up at 5:30. Things went quicker than we’d expected, though, so we finished our full list — plus some bonus recording — around 4:30.

Since we have a lot to do back at the Lab, we drove back to Seattle the same night. We were a bunch of zombies the next day, but hey. It fits, I guess. ;)

When we get back mocap data, what format is it in?  How do you get the finished characters into the game?

We get video first so we can choose the takes we like best. Once we’ve picked these, we send the details back to Animatrik, who  cleans up the files we requested and sends them to us as skeletons with the motion attached to them.

The animations we get back are in a lot of different pieces, so to get them ready to use, Scott translates the motion from the skeleton to the rig. When he’s done, he sends them to me to do the necessary edits and get the pieces organized and exported. Once we’re finished, they are usable for the designers to put into the game.

Thanks for giving details about your trip, Reid!

I hope you guys liked this inside view of how our characters are being built! Next week, we have more game information coming your way — Phinney is preparing a design article on multiplayer in Class3 to close out 2011, so be sure to check back in on Friday.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Emily

Everyone Dies

The zombie apocalypse is coming. You want to know how everything works. How dangerous is it? How can you protect yourself? We have the answers, but how much can we really say?

Mystery and uncertainty are a big part of the zombie canon. You shouldn’t go in knowing all the ins and outs. You shouldn’t feel like everything is perfectly understood. The unknown is part of the drama, and the seeking answers is part of the challenge.

So today, we’ll share what we can. It’s not a catalogue of spoilers from the dev team. Instead, what follows are the thoughts and observations of a fellow survivor in McMillanville.

It starts with a single, stark fact of life: Everyone dies.


Day 17

Reckon I can’t think of a more bullshit situation. And that’s a fact. When one of us dies, we come back as one of them. Our loss is their gain. Randy thinks the bites do it. He figures it’s something in the saliva or bodily fluids or some such thing. It’s hard to say. These days, ain’t like it’s easy to find someone who hasn’t been scratched or bitten at some point.

Shay’s got another theory. Says maybe we were all infected already. I don’t know if that scares me or not. Maybe that means we can find a cure. Maybe it means we’re all fucked. I just know this: so far, every one of my friends who’s died has come back.

The first time we had to put down someone we knew, I almost couldn’t do it. But then it went after Shay, and I just reacted. Later, my buddy Chuck asked the question we were all thinking: When these people die and get back up, are they still themselves? Deep inside, can they still think or feel? Do they have any choice? And did we?

But experience has answered that one, time and time again. We’ve seen how they act, more instinct than thought. And we’ve all seen that look. We’ve seen it in their eyes. Just hatred and hunger. Not one ounce of humanity left. Better that way anyway. It’s not your friend. It’s just a shell. It’s just a shell.


Day 18

Put more of the bastards down today. It’s crazy to think about how much things have changed. I still remember the day we started calling them zombies. Sounded fake at first. Like something out of a fucking horror movie, but what else would you call them? You see a man die — stone cold dead — and then get up and walk. And there ain’t no way to put one down but remove its head or destroy its brains. Wasn’t too long before we got real comfortable with the term.

They say the first one’s always the worst, and I’m sure as hell not going to argue. I pumped ten bullets to the torso of that fucking waitress and she just kept coming. Took a bullet to the brain to finally drop her. Lucky for me, she was one of the slow ones. If she wasn’t, who knows? I’d probably be shambling around with the rest of them.


Day 19

Everybody knows Randy’s the best shot, but he’s getting cocky. Today, he used that big ole Remlinger 700 to shoot a leg and an arm off of one. I swear he was aiming for the extremities just outta sport. The thing goes down, of course, but keeps on crawling. Never seen one deterred by pain, and that’s a fact. Well, Randy walks right up to it and caves in its skull. Stomp, stomp with his boot heel.

Reckless son of a bitch if you ask me, but he’s a sure shot, and I know we’re lucky he joined us. Just need to find a way to put his sharpshooting abilities to more reliable use.


Day 20

Can’t take nothing for granted. Tried to build a kind of guard tower for Randy out of oil drums and two-by-fours. Damn thing tumbled and nearly cracked open my skull.

Soon as Chuck and I have our talk about why duct tape is not a substitute for a 3¼ inch nail — even if it is “abundantly quieter than all that hammering” — we’re gonna hit the veterinary clinic. Shay’s right that we lucked out this time, and our old collection of first aid kits is running a bit on the thin side these days. We need to secure a more comprehensive inventory of medications and medical supplies in case we’re not so lucky next time.


Day 21

Bad fucking day today. Bad fucking day.


Day 22

I don’t know if Chuck’s gonna make it. He’s starting to have that look. I do know I don’t want to be the one to do it…if it comes down to the mercy shot.

We try to look out for each other. Usually, when someone goes down, we’re able to drag ‘em to safety. Had some pretty impressive escapes a time or two, even when someone started off on their own, we got there in time. You might lose some of the stuff you were carrying and be outta commission for a bit, but it’s better than the alternative.

Hell, I’m pretty careful, but everyone screws up on occasion. A time or two, I’ve turned a corner while bringing home a duffel of soup cans or some such thing and found myself face-to-face with a whole horde of zombies. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the infirmary or over with the Wilson boys…back when they were still among the living and breathing.

Can’t push your luck though. How many times can you count on getting rescued in a situation like that? Not many, I reckon.

Because of some of the scrapes we’ve survived, people sometimes look at me and Chuck like we’re invincible, but we know better. Fact of the matter is there’s nothing magical or special about either of us. Every day we stare down death, and every day we face the risk of extermination. There’s no Ctrl-Z or reload to save us.  And once you’re dead, you’re one of them. There’s nothing you can do to control it or fight it. It’s a done deal. The best you can hope for is that your friends carry on in your memory.

Well, don’t count on it, Chuck. I’ll be damned if I’m ready to make any memorials for you. You got no choice. You have to pull through. You have to.


Day 23

Fever and chills for Chuck today. He has the glazed over look in his eyes that we’ve all seen before. Shay asked me what happened out there. Always treating everything like it’s a puzzle that can be solved, that girl.

I told her we took our precautions. We’ve been carrying food and medicine with us on our scavenging runs, like she insisted. Give yourself a burst of energy or heal up a wound and help you keep going. It can help you out of jam, but you have to think about weight. Sure, we could have taken more with us, but the weight is a killer. She knows that. The more you carry, the faster you wear out.

She wanted details, but what was there to say? We got tired, but those bastards never slow down, and they never get tired. Ain’t too hard to ward off a single swipe or attempted bite from a zombie, but when you’re exhausted, when you get surrounded, you can’t…you can’t keep your feet. They tug at you, drag you down.

What could I tell her?  Chuck got all tore up. I helped him to his feet, but there were so many… he was taken down again. We were lucky to get him back home in one piece.

I couldn’t really finish the story. We looked in on Chuck together. Saw the same thing. He might not make it. I didn’t say anything, but she leaned in and real quiet like said, “I’ll do it. If it needs to be done.” Don’t know where she gets the strength.


Day 25

Hell of a day yesterday. Randy says that karma is on our side. Wouldn’t have taken him for a buddhist or hindu or whatever that is.

A car wrecks half a block from our little stronghold — I can call it that now that the guard tower is stable — and the commotion brings a mess of zombies. The driver’s still alive, but Shay doesn’t think that trying to get to him is worth the risk. “He’ll be one of them by the time we get there,” she says.

Randy ignores her and looks to me to make the call. “I’ll go,” he offers, plain as that.

“Just cover me, asshole,” I answer and head out to get him. To her credit, Shay comes with.

The repeated report of Randy’s Remlinger behind us has the simultaneous effect of thinning the zombie numbers ahead of us and drawing some away from the car. The fuckers do have a spiteful attraction to loud noises.

The driver’s still alive when we get there, and we learn, once he’s safely back home with us, that he’s a doctor, an actual licensed MD. He’d been holed up at the church with a few others but when things turned to shit, he grabbed a car and tried to get the hell outta dodge.

Hope to God he’s a better doctor than he is a driver.


Day 26

The good doctor shows his gratitude by tending to Chuck. Popping a Tylenol is about as much as I know about medicine, so I can’t say exactly what the doc did. All I know is that whatever it was helped Chuck turn the corner. This morning, he was even up and moving around a little.

Doc says Chuck’ll be kind of low energy for the next day or so, but the talk of a mercy shot is behind us. The doctor’s still got a busted up leg from the wreck, so he won’t be able to join us on supply runs for a while. That’s okay by me. I think we might prefer to keep him safe and sound at home anyway. He can still treat people with a bad wheel, and that’s what matters.

Maybe Randy’s right. Karma’s on our side. Think I might head to the church tomorrow, see if anyone else made it and needs our help. We’ve been treading water too damn long. It’s time to start trying to build something.


This is the heart of Class3. It’s a game that’s not just about fighting zombies — it’s focused on the dangers and struggles of post-apocalyptic survival. To us, this means making your choices matter. It means giving you freedom with consequences, and sometimes those consequences are harsh: your community can be wiped out, and all characters (including yours) are at risk of permanent death.

This is a risky design choice and one that could easily lead to a game that’s only for the most hardcore players, but that’s not our goal. We are always guided by two words: fun first. That’s why getting overwhelmed in a single fight won’t instantly get you zombified. It’s also why you’ll get clear warning signs if a character is close to succumbing, and why there are ways to build on your legacy if someone doesn’t make it.

As development moves forward, we’ll continue to test, tweak, and balance a lot of these mechanics, but our guiding principles have never changed.

For a lot of you, I know this article will only whet your appetite for more information. (That’s good, right?) While I’m sticking to my guns about not giving everything away before the game is even out, I’m sure there are a lot of questions we can answer right now. If you’ve got one, hit reply, and fire away.

We’ll do a follow-up Q&A article next week.

Phinney

Lessons From The Range

Last week, we took a company field trip to a local gun range to get some hands-on experience with pistols. Only a few of us had actually shot a handgun before, and since we’re building a zombie survival game, we figured that it would be a good plan to make sure that everyone on the team has at least fired one before. I mean, how can you build something without knowing how it actually works?

The day was pretty amazing. As soon as we arrived at the range, we were given a short safety class. In a half hour or so, we had learned how to properly handle our weapon — how to carry it, how to check to see if it’s loaded, and how to hold it. Our instructor even drew little lines on our hands to help us remember the proper pistol grip. Before we headed into the firing lanes, we picked out a pair of ear protectors, a set of safety glasses, and our first spread of 9mm pistols.

Once we were on the range, the real lessons began.

Lesson #1: Loading a magazine is a pain in the ass.

Most of us didn’t realize how tricky it can be to load a gun by hand, especially when you’re trying to do it quickly. To put a bunch of bullets into a magazine, you essentially need to push one round object down with another, and there’s a spring pushing back so you have to use more and more force to shove them inside. Loading the first few is easy enough, but after four or so it takes some real technique to do it smoothly. We also discovered that 9mm rounds are worse than .45’s because they’re tiny — Ben (who’s super tall) struggled with this part the most and dropped the smaller bullets a few times because they were hard for him to hang onto.

On average, putting a single round into a .45 takes between two and four seconds. Multiply that by eight, and you’ll see that loading a full magazine is going to take you between a quarter to a half of a minute. That’s a lot of time when you’re in a life or death situation.

Now picture how difficult it would be if you were trapped behind the counter of your local sporting goods store, scooping up a pile of spilled ammo, and trying to quickly reload your gun while zeds are slamming their rotting fists against the window. It’s not a pretty thought.

How does this translate to the game? Well, we’re not going to make loading a hassle, of course, but it’s given us some food for thought on reloading mechanics, interesting scenarios, and the value of speed loaders as items you can find in the world.

Lesson #2: Missing is a lot easier than you’d think.

If you’re a horror fan, you probably scream at your TV when you see people shooting at zombies and completely missing their heads. We did too — until this trip. Target shooting gave all of us a much greater appreciation for how the slightest tilt could affect accuracy in a big way.

Case in point, your grip can make or break your accuracy — and the correct technique is not what you’d expect. A proper two-handed pistol grip is 80% off-hand to 20% trigger hand, meaning that you should grip the gun much tighter with your non-firing hand. That’s because your firing hand is more susceptible to small, unintended shifts when you flex that trigger finger.

Another interesting factor is recoil. Even with a .45, the kick you feel when you shoot isn’t as big as movies make it seem, but even if your hand only moves a little, there’s no way to keep your sights perfectly lined up between shots. Some of us experimented with shooting in rapid succession; some of us took a long time to aim between each and every shot. Being accurate when firing quickly was a real challenge, which in turn gave us an idea of how hard it would be to stay accurate while moving and firing rapidly. Not the formula for a perfect headshot.

In Class3, aiming is based on player skill, but recoil and moving while shooting can affect the spread of your shots. The more experience your character has with firearms the better — just like in real life, knowing the right techniques can really help you deal with issues like recoil and being accurate on the run.

Lesson #3: Distance matters. A lot.

It makes sense that shooting something far away from you is  trickier than hitting something right in front of you, but many of us didn’t realize just how far pistol accuracy drops off after the 30 to 40 foot mark. When we first started shooting, our targets were at 15-20 feet, and we felt like zombie slaying bad-asses. The bulls-eyes on our targets quickly turned into gaping holes, and no shots hit outside of the target circles. We were unbeatable.

Then some of us decided that we wanted to try our hand at longer ranges.

As soon as the targets went out to 30 feet, we saw a definite drop in accuracy, and at 50 feet headshots became a rarity and people would occasionally miss the targets entirely. (Though Jess and Foge both had some really nice shots at 60+ feet.)

As Brant mentioned in his Weapon Of Choice article, we’ve talked a lot about the relative roles of different kinds of firearms. Our experiences at the firing range really underscored how much better handguns are at close and medium ranges. When I was in the army, I wasn’t a sharpshooter, but I was easily hitting targets with a rifle at 50 yards instead of struggling to do it with a pistol at 50 feet.

Lesson #4: Holy shit — guns are loud.

Yes, they really, really are. Even with the hardcore noise-cancelling headsets that we had on, shots were loud enough to make some of us physically jump, and people that decided to adjust their ear protection at the wrong times definitely regretted it (and their ringing ears). How loud are we talking, exactly? Let’s take a look:

85dB — OSHA requires hearing protection
120dB — Most peoples’ normal pain threshold
150dB — Your chest cavity starts to vibrate
160dB — Your eardrums rupture
180dB — Tissue important to hearing starts to die
194dB — The loudest sound possible

Now consider that most rifles, shotguns, and pistols produce between 150 and 160dB when fired — and some can actually hit upwards of 170d!. That is really freaking loud.

This just served to reinforce one of the big features we’ve discussed many times: Noise matters in Class3. Before you pop off a few rounds at a zombie, consider this: if he’s got buddies in the area, they’re going to hear you and come shambling (or running). Likewise, if you’re trying to get away from a horde that’s chasing you, taking as many of them out as you can could save your life.

Lesson #5: Practice. Practice. Practice.

There are a lot of subtleties to good marksmanship. Being too excited — like I was when we first started shooting — can make you pull the trigger instead of squeezing it. Anticipating that big bang and the recoil can make you tense up right after you line up your sights. Both will ruin your accuracy. Having a poor reset — releasing the trigger after you shoot instead of just easing up on it — can shift your hand as well, forcing you to take extra time when you’re trying to re-aim. Every gun has a different weight, sight, and amount of resistance on the trigger. Each one takes an adjustment period to master. (Surprisingly, no one ever warmed up to the gun with the fancy holographic sight. We expected that to make aiming easier, but it was distracting and felt unnatural for most of us.)

By the end of our range visit, we all noticed a noticeable improvement in our shooting skills — we were reloading magazines much faster, were anticipating our shots less, and were hitting our targets much more. After burning over 1000 rounds,  we decided to take out one final zed, then call it a day. Everyone got a single.45 round to fire — with the rest of the team heckling, er, watching and providing moral support. Check out our results!

A bunch of the guys got clean headshots, but in the end Brant still had to show everyone up, going second-to-last and calling his shot, “eye socket on the right.” His hole is the one in the dead center of the eye socket on the right.

All in all, we learned a lot of lessons at the range that can apply to the game. One of these was just how much room there is for characters to get better with guns over time, but we also saw something else: you can make a lot of progress really quickly. We have no intention of making a grindy experience where you perform repetitive actions to slowly earn critical stat increases. After all, that’s not what we saw in our real life bit of firearms training. So if you’re playing a school teacher who’s never fired a gun before, you won’t have all the advantages of a seasoned hunter with a sniper rifle, but just going out and using a rifle will improve your skills in no time.

Have you fired a pistol before? Do you have any lessons of your own that you’d like to share? Post a comment — we’d love to hear your stories!

Emily

PS: If you want to see our experience first-hand, head over to our Vimeo page and check out videos from the range. We’ve also got a lot of great photos on our Flickr gallery, so head over and check those out, too!

That Shit Could Happen Here

I grew up in the small Central Texas town of Temple. Never heard of it? Most people haven’t. It’s about an hour north of Austin, and about half an hour south of Waco. You remember Waco, right? Yep, that’s my childhood stomping ground. That’s where I learned to play D&D, fell in love with video games, saw Dawn of the Dead for the first time, and pushed wheeled trashcans full of day-old Mexican food down the alley behind the restaurant with my car at 40 mph because there was nothing else to do.

Sigh. Good times.

Temple isn’t exactly the glitzy metropolis you’d expect to see in a game. If I’m donning my cape, mask, and lightning fists to take on some evil supervillains, I want to be somewhere sexy like Paragon City or Tokyo. If I’m taking up my two-handed mace to get my Paladin on, I expect the best chance to be admired is somewhere densely populated like Stormwind or Paris. When I suit up in my NFL-designed space marine combat armor, I look forward to dishing it out to the bugs on their homeworld of X’zzzt.

But the zed apocalypse? Forget the cities and the flashy locales — many of us will be holding back the rotting hordes in small towns just like Temple.

A few weeks ago, we asked you to share your hometown with us. Our survey received thousands of responses from all over the world, and the results were surprising. While it’s statistically true that most of the world’s population lives in big cities like New York City, London, Paris, and Athens, you can see from our Outbreak Map that only a handful of us live in the heart of metropolitan areas. Most of the people that responded to our survey actually live in small towns or suburbs. Home isn’t Times Square or Shinjuku — it’s Bob’s IGA, the VFW dance hall, the local espresso shack, and the Alamo Burrito and BBQ Hacienda.

Check out our full Outbreak Map here!

When we started designing the world of Class3, we wanted to capture the essence of the real zombie apocalypse by creating a setting that felt like a real place — one that you might actually live in. For a template, we chose a typical small town in eastern Washington State, very similar to our tech director Shaun’s hometown of Benton City.

McMillanville. It’s not fancy; it’s not exotic; but it’s home. And you know, that shit could happen here.

Jeff

PS: Thanks to all of you who entered your hometown on the map! Team Zed loved watching the map fill up over the past few weeks. If your hometown isn’t called out, go ahead and add it! Don’t worry if the pin doesn’t pop up right away — our map updates every night, so check back the next day to see the latest version.

Ground Zero

If the zombie apocalypse hit each of our hometowns tomorrow, what would the world look like? While some of us live in huge cities like New York City and Los Angeles, many more of us come from smaller towns — ones that are strikingly similar to those in Class3.

As an experiment, we’re creating an “Undead Labs Outbreak Map” to visualize where all of us would be holed up during an outbreak. Help our research by adding your city, state, and country to our short form here. Next week we’ll share the results, so stay tuned!

Thanks, everyone!

Emily

Q&A: Environments And More

Happy Friday, everyone! Last week, we posted an article from Phinney that explored the world of Class3. This week, we’ll answer the questions that you guys have asked on our website and on fan forums.

Read on to see what we’ve covered!


Matthew from our website asks: “Of course there should be a limit to what can be carried, but what about a truck or SUV? Is there the possibility of using a vehicle to go into town, scavenge, then return to a rural bunker of superness?”

As an individual, you’ll find that there’s a realistic limit to what you can carry, especially if you want to be able to fight freely. One of the big advantages of using a vehicle will be increased storage capacity, but you’ll also want to keep their disadvantages in mind: sound, visibility, fuel and maintenance.

With that said, we’re not making a completely free-form physics simulation. You’re not going to be able to stack the back of a truck with huge, precariously balanced piles of supplies wedged together in an epic display of Tetris mastery. We’ll leave that for your trips to Ikea.


FreakyBowMan from our website asks: “When you start out in the game, will you have basic things to help you survive like a weapon (a pistol or rifle), a vehicle, and enough food and water to get started?”

As is the case with most games, we won’t tune the starting experience until we’re much further in development. We need to know as much as possible about the whole game before we can be certain how to make the best start for it.

Currently, we expect that you’ll start the game essentially empty-handed, but that’s exactly the kind of detail that may change over the course of development.


Many people ask: “Will weather, seasonal changes, and snowy terrain affect gameplay? For example, travel speed, activity level for zeds, and being able to gather water.”

We’re not planning on having weather or seasons in Class3, but are looking forward to introducing them as factors in Class4. We think seasonal changes are an important part of bringing an online world to life and really fit the zombie survival genre.

Being able to set up rain water collectors to enhance your drinking water supply is a cool idea regardless.


Dee Cazo from MMOZed asks: “If you can hit a church bell to make noise and cause a distraction, are you able to shoot the bell to cause this? Would the bell cause more attention than the gun shot?”

It depends on the gun you’re using, how many shots you fire, and on how long the bell keeps ringing. Unless you want to invite all of the zombies in the area to dinner, I wouldn’t recommending going full-auto with a machine gun on a church bell, but that’s up to you.



Lucien from our website asks:Will there be wildlife in the game? If so, will we be able to kill animals and cook them for food?”

We think so. We’ve had discussions about wildlife and have some general ideas about the role that animals will play, but we haven’t worked on these features enough to talk about them in detail publicly. It remains to be seen exactly how extensive the systems will be, but when we mentioned “hunting” in the article, we were talking about hunting animals for food.


Keith Tallon from our website asks: You’ve collectively mentioned a ‘super-horde’ a couple of times — is that scenario something you envision recurring randomly throughout the game?”

As with other undefined terms we’ve thrown around (like “screamer”, which is a zombie prone to making a lot of noise), a super-horde is pretty much what it sounds like and, as you’d imagine, there won’t be super-hordes everywhere all the time. We’ll go into detail about zombie types and zombie hordes in a later design article.


UnleashTheMuse from MMOZed asks:Will there be water and/or piers or boats in the world?”

Yes, there will be water in the game. We want to keep the number of vehicle types down, so it is entirely possible there won’t be boats you can pilot in Class3. We’ll see.

You will be able to swim, but you may want to be careful about that. You never know what’s lurking under the surface.


Sgt. Jonah Hex from our website asks:You mentioned swimming, how will you handle zombies vs. water?”

I’ll just say this: You have to worry about drowning. Zombies don’t.


CaptElmo2165 from our website asks: “How are you planning to excuse the time gap between the start of the meltdown and where our character begins? After all, true survivors would already have acquired weapons, food, water and a safe spot within the first few days. Will we be at a disadvantage?”

Well, I’m not saying the answer to that has anything to do with the isolated mountain resort area that you see in the concepts Doug labeled “starter area” — because that would be giving away something super secret — but I will say that this question is something we’ve considered.


Retro Zombie from MMOZed asks:Will there be insane non player characters?”

We do want to use characters in the game to depict the range of psychological reactions you’d see in a zombie apocalypse. It seems very likely that total societal collapse would push some people over the edge. Heck, there are plenty of less than rational people out there right now. Imagine how nuts they’d be in an end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenario.


Breakd0wn from MMOZed asks: “Will the noise you make from walking attract zombies? For example, if you go into a store that’s been looted and step on a piece of glass.”

The noise that you make will attract zombies. We won’t be modeling the sound from individual shards of glass, but moving slowly is quieter than moving fast, and what you have with you and what you’re walking on may also be a factor. Noise management will be one of many tactical decisions players will need to make from moment to moment.


MarleyTheMongolianMongoose from MMOZed asks:Will the environment be completely open with no instances or loading screens?”

It’s an open world game, so you can expect it to play like one. You won’t hit loading screens when traveling from one part of the map to another.


Huevel from MMOZed asks:How destructable will the environment be?”

Class3 will feature some environmental destruction, physics-based gameplay and player-controlled building, but we don’t want to misrepresent the kind of game we’re making. It will not be as free-form as Minecraft, and the destruction will not be as extensive as a game like Red Faction.

These are the kind of big choices you have to make early in development to set your priorities. First and foremost, our goal is to try to capture the feel of the zombie survival genre. There’s a reason most zombie stories don’t focus on tearing down whole buildings, reshaping terrain, and constructing elaborate mountain-top fortresses — it shifts the conflict from being personal to being strategic. Even though you will have a lot of freedom to make meaningful strategic choices in Class3, we never want the game to stray from that direct, desperate, and personal feeling.

Blowing up the occasional propane tank, gas pump, or SUV would be fun, though, right?


John from MMOZed asks: “How will the players handle waste, from trash to the toilet? Can rotting trash attract zombies? Can players get cholera from sub-standard sanitation?”

The game is about survival and that includes all of the challenges above and beyond being eaten by zombies. Things like cholera and dysentery will be among the hazards you face… though you won’t spend a lot of time in the game managing a communal inventory of feces. ;)


Dantron from MMOZed asks:Dantron inquires if zombies are repelled by cotton candy and if so will Dantron be able to acquire some cotton candy mix from the fairgrounds?”

We would certainly never discourage Dantron from searching the fairgrounds for cotton candy and then instituting a series of empirical data gathering protocols vis-à-vis the walking dead and spun sugar, but we will offer the following a priori analysis:

  1. People eat cotton candy.
  2. People are what they eat.
  3. Zombies are not repelled by people.

 

That wraps it up! As always, we’d like to thank you guys for sharing your feedback and ideas about Phinney’s post. If you have additional thoughts about the Class3 world, or anything else we’ve covered in this Q&A, post a comment and let us know!

Keep an eye on the site for future updates from the team, and be sure to follow us on Facebook and Twitter for the most up-to-date news alerts.

Have an awesome weekend, everyone!

Emily

No World Order

The setting is our world. The time is now, except everything’s completely gone to shit and it’s happened fast. You don’t know why or how any of this happened. The only thing you know is that dead people are up and walking and that, if you’re not careful, they will kill you too. Is the crisis worldwide or isolated? It’s hard to say. You’re cut off from the outside world and everything around you is in total chaos.

This is the starting point for our open world zombie survival game, code named ‘Class3’. If you’re a zombie fan, you’ve thought about this scenario before. There are three big elements. The first is the zombies themselves. You have to figure out how you’ll kill them, how to escape them, and how to avoid them in the future. The second is other people. They may want to help you. They may want to harm you. That’s where things start to get really interesting.

And then there’s that third element: the world around you. Maybe you’ve never thought of it in those terms before, but odds are the environment plays a key role every time you picture the zombie apocalypse. It’s not just a backdrop. It’s a place full of buildings to explore and loot, abandoned cars for making a quick escape, firearms to collect and use, food stockpiles to raid, hiding places to duck into, and propane tanks to turn into the world’s brightest and most short-lived zombie welcome signs. It’s a world of endless possibilities.

Today, I want to share our vision for the world of Class3.

As always, our starting point is thinking about the essence of zombie survival. At its core, what does survival actually mean? Well, it’s not getting your guts ripped out by zombies, for sure, but there’s a lot more to it. In those first desperate moments, survival is a matter of action and stealth. Grabbing a chair or a crowbar or an axe and busting some zombie skulls or, if you happen to find one, breaking out a 9 mm and trying to headshot the zeds. But once you’ve escaped that immediate danger, you’ll have a whole new set of challenges. You’re going to need somewhere safe to sleep, and you’ll need to figure out how to get everything you need to survive: food, water, medicine, weapons, tools, and ammunition.

Deciding where, when and how to collect and protect these things is up to you. You’ll choose where to set up camp. Will you hide out in an abandoned house, seek shelter in a cabin in the woods, turn the county fairgrounds into a fortress, try to run a farm, set up in your favorite pub, or look for something else?

You’ll also need to decide whether to go it alone or team up with others. People complicate things, bringing in issues of morale and trust and teamwork. Still, as I’ve discussed before, there are a lot of advantages to having friends. Surviving as a lone wolf is hard and few will be up to the task.

There’s also how you approach day-to-day survival: Walking or driving, sneaking around or shootin’ up the joint. You’ll want to consider your actions carefully, though. Fuel and ammo are scarce resources, and nothing draws a crowd of zombies faster than making a lot of noise. If you’re going to battle a massive horde head on, you’d better have an escape route planned and either a well-disguised hideout for laying low or a fortified stronghold to make your stand.

So how do we ensure something so free-form makes sense to everyone? We think the key is having a world that is as intuitive, logical and consistent as possible. So, of course, we’re going to put things where you’d expect them. If I asked you to list the best places to acquire medicine, you’d probably say a hospital or a pharmacy. You’d probably guess that you can find food in a supermarket or guns and ammo in a police station. A lot of buildings are iconic, letting you know what’s inside as soon as you see one. (Okay, you may not know how many zombies or scavengers or shotgun-wielding maniacs are inside, but you’ll know the firehouse has some axes.)

At the same time, a sense of exploration and discovery is very important, so we’re putting a lot of work into letting you explore. We want to give you access to every single building that could have something you want. For a polished game with the kind of visual quality we want, this is a bold goal. It’s difficult from a technical and production standpoint, but it’s a challenge we’ve enjoyed taking on. So far, so good.

The aim of being intuitive doesn’t just apply to places where you find resources, but also to the sites you may claim and call home. Once you’ve chosen a location for your base, you’ll have choices to make about fortifications, facilities, and population. Want to build a guard tower in the northeast corner to have a better sniping spot when a zombie horde comes shambling down Main Street? You can do that. Would you rather focus on gardening and growing food, or do you think it’s more valuable to improve your medical facilities? It’s up to you.

“Horror is most striking when the alien, terrible, and profane collide with the familiar…”A zombie survival plan isn’t just about the big choices, though — it’s also about the moment-to-moment decisions. We believe the environment should be a playground, full of fun opportunities for movement and interaction.

Maybe you ring a church bell or scatter a group of birds to make a diversion for a raid. You swim across the river to get to your destination, creeping along a low garden wall and hiding yourself in the bushes on the outskirts. You reach a fence, lean back against it, and shimmy to the edge, where you peek out to check for zeds. All clear — now for the house. Are you going to go in through the front door or climb up to that second story balcony? Things get ugly after you’re inside, and you go sliding over a table, guns blazing before ducking behind the couch for cover. When you realize you can’t hold the position, you shoot out a window and dive through the shattering glass to make your escape.

We’ve been implementing a lot of those behaviors just recently, but we knew early on they would be a part of the game. That’s when we started thinking seriously about the specifics of the Class3 setting.

Immediately we had to tackle the question of diversity. In a survival situation, terrain types matter a lot. Rural areas have fewer people, which probably means fewer zombies (except when that occasional super-horde comes rolling through). They also have more space for growing and hunting for food. On the other hand, urban areas offer a lot more convenience. Especially in the beginning, there’d be a lot of resources and gear to loot to give yourself a head start. The really dense areas offer something else as well — lots of places to hide. But just talking about those two extremes is an oversimplification. There’s a whole range. A small town isn’t rural, but it isn’t remotely the same as a big city. There’s a lot of variety out there and different places are a better fit for different survival plans, so we talked about all the possibilities and knew we shouldn’t pick just one.

If you’ve been looking at the concept art we’ve posted, you already know a lot about the environment we’re building. Doug’s inspiration came not far from home, in the diverse climes of Eastern Washington: mountains, rivers, cities, one-stoplight towns, and farmland far as the eye can see. This region had all the variety we were seeking.

It also happens to be an area a lot of us know pretty well (here’s a picture of Shaun’s hometown), but there’s another reason we chose it — the essence of horror is familiarity. Horror is most striking when the alien, terrible, and profane collide with the familiar and the personal. That’s a big part of what makes a present day zombie story so compelling in the first place, and it’s why McMillanville looks the way it does. Maybe it was a little tattered and worn, even before the big outbreak, but it was still a place that evoked a core, idealized picture of human society…right up until all hell broke loose.

These last few months, we’ve been running around in the 16 square kilometers of varied terrain and architecture that form the Class3 world. It has forests, windy mountain roads, highways, rivers, farmland, fairgrounds, train tracks and tunnels, mid-sized McMillanville, the eastern edge of Dunniway City, and other little townships and clusters of civilization scattered around the area. The whole shebang. Of course, things will change here and there as we polish and tune the experience. Things will get moved, cut, remade, and replaced. That’s the reality of game development.

I will say this, though: So far, we love it. The world that Dave and James are building has been a fantastic playground for fighting zombies, climbing onto and over things, ducking into police stations in search of guns and ammo, driving around like a madman, plowing through zombie hordes, and leading scavengers on raids for supplies.

It’s our world. It’s now. It’s the perfect setting for the zombie apocalypse.

Phinney

Wherever You Go, There You Are

If you’re a horror fan, I’m sure you’ve watched zombie movies and thought “I could survive a hell of a lot longer than those guys”. After all, you’re prepared for this stuff — you’ve got a baseball bat  by your door, a survival kit in your closet, and a plan. That’s great, but won’t do you much good if you’re not home. And it’s not like the zombie apocalypse is going to send out a Facebook invite in advance, which means that most of us would have no idea where we’d actually be when shit hit the fan.

Take a look around. It’s pretty crazy how many places would completely suck to be in or around if zombies started running (or shambling) around — no matter how prepared you think you are.

Case in point: It’s my job to think about this stuff all day, but this weekend I found myself in a situation where I’d have been zombie chow if things went south.

I was walking around on the waterfront, enjoying the first sunny day we’ve had in months. On the hunt for a restroom, I ducked down a random hallway and wound up discovering a one-room indoor carnival, complete with a full-sized merry-go-round, arcade games, skee-ball tables, ticket counters, and one of those creepy animatronic fortune tellers. The narrow aisles between attractions were packed with people. Circus music warbled from the old carousel.

If you looked up the term “Americana” in the dictionary, I swear you’d find a picture of this place.

I pushed my way through the crowd and found a locked ladies’ room tucked away in the back of the room. Punching the unlock code into the keypad, I headed inside. The minute I sat on the toilet, the door started rattling and shaking. Someone was trying to get in, and apparently hadn’t noticed the huge lock on the handle. Then I realized that there was an even louder rattling in the distance — like a group of people were trying to shake open another door (which was blocked with chains). I looked around and noticed that there were no windows in the room, and the ceiling was too high for me to reach, even if I stood on something.

Then it dawned on me that my situation was exactly why Rule #2 was created (or, for the Zombieland lovers, Rule #3 in the actual movie). If zombies were responsible for all that shaking, I’d be completely screwed.

Luckily, the chaos was caused by other (living) people, but the experience made me think — what other places in Seattle would suck to get stuck in during a zombie apocalypse? On Monday, I asked the rest of the team where they’d least like to wind up. Here are our top five picks:


#1: Pike Place Market

If you’ve ever been to Seattle’s famous Pike Place Market, you’ll know that it’s always packed. You may also know that the place is a freaking maze — even for locals who have been there dozens of times. I get lost every time I go to buy comics, and Brant has a great story about the time he accidentally went out a side door and ended up on a street somewhere down by the waterfront.

Between the sheer number of people trying to navigate the narrow halls and the fact that you’ll generally get lost at least once every visit, Pike Place ranks high on our list of places we’d never want to be during an outbreak.


#2: Seattle Underground

Here’s a strange fact for you — a huge chunk of modern-day Seattle is built on top of the ruins of old Seattle. In 1889, an accidental fire destroyed 25 city blocks, including the area of Pioneer Square that the Lab calls home. You can actually go on a tour that takes you down into the sprawling network of underground tunnels, which are actually the old streets of the city.

While the underground is a cool place to check out, the paths are narrow and dark and there are a limited number of exits… Let’s put it this way: anywhere that looks like the cellar from The Beyond is a bad, bad place to be trapped with a  bunch of flesh-eating ghouls.


#3: Space Needle

Seattle’s iconic Space Needle is a massive 605 foot tower that was built for the 1962 World’s Fair. It’s also a huge tourist destination — every day, thousands of people pay to go up the elevators to get a panoramic view of the city and its surrounding mountains.

I’m afraid of heights, so the place scares the crap out of me even without zombies — I couldn’t fathom what it would be like after an outbreak. If the first infected person happened to turn at the top of the tower, you’d be trapped up there like a fish in a ridiculously elevated barrel. If the infection started outside, you’d be hovering above one of the most crowded tourist destinations in Seattle. You could try taking the elevator down, but it’s going to ring like a dinner bell when it hits the ground floor. Either way, no thanks.


#4: Things That Float

Since Seattle is pretty much surrounded by water, there are a TON of boats, ships, and other things floating around. We’ve got ferries shuttling cars and people to nearby islands, massive cargo ships hauling containers back and forth across the Pacific, fishing boats coming in to drop off their catches, cruise ships stopping here every summer, and thousands of people that own boats ranging in size from kayaks to yachts.

On a small boat, there is nowhere to run, and on a larger ship, there’s a whole other set of complications. It wouldn’t take many zombies to turn shipshape into total chaos, and without the crew in place to keep the ship from running aground or sinking in a storm, your fantasies of escaping the zombie apocalypse by taking to the high seas aren’t likely to end well. So unless you’re prepared to take out every single zed on board and take control of the ship, you’re probably jumping into the freezing water and swimming to…Oh yeah. Zombie infested shores. Good luck with that!


#5: Washington State Convention Center

Nestled in the heart of downtown, the Washington State Convention Center is home to most of Seattle’s major conventions, like the Penny Arcade Expo (PAX), the Emerald City Comicon, and Sakura Con. With over 300,000 square feet of space, this six story structure could hold a hell of a lot of zombies.

I was at ECCC this year, and on the busiest days, I could barely make my way through the crowd. And as packed as that show was, PAX had almost 70,000 fellow geeks in attendance last year. That’s like a small town crammed into a single building. Zombify a bunch of people and just picture what would happen…


So that’s the question — if the zombie apocalypse happened tomorrow, would you be in a safe place? Or would you be like me, holed up in a windowless bathroom in the back of a crowded indoor carnival?

We think about this stuff all the time. How do the all those everyday, normal places change when you’re suddenly faced with a zombie outbreak?

Now it’s your turn — take a look at the spots you regularly visit, then figure out places in your city or town that you’d want to avoid in the case of an outbreak. Then, share your ideas with us. And remember that pictures are awesome, so try to link to shots of locations so the rest of us can see what you’re talking about. We’re looking forward to reading what you guys come up with!

Have a safe weekend, everyone!

Emily

The Human Element

If the world was going to end tomorrow and you needed to get out of dodge, who would you take with you and why? My fourth grade teacher had us play this game a few times. She’d write a list of possible candidates on the board, and to really make us think, tell us that our life boats could only hold five people. We’d break into teams to discuss our options. Should we bring the doctor or the farmer? Would we rather have someone who could cook and sew, or someone who could build a house?

I didn’t think about it at the time, but at its core, this was a logic puzzle that distilled each person’s value down to one thing: the skills that they possess. When you’re thinking about building your “dream team” for surviving the zombie apocalypse in Class3, or if you’re debating what skills you think you’d need to survive, it’s easy to base your choices on similar logic.

You can try to picture a “dream team” of fellow survivors with the training and experience necessary to cover all your needs for weapons, food, water, clothing and shelter. That sounds good, but people are more than just a collection of skills.

When you really dig into it, you’ll see that this approach is missing one very crucial thing — the human element.

We all know the situation: Society has broken down.Everything you want or need spells danger to one degree or another. Stores are filled with things you want to eat, but also with things that want to eat you. The people you used to rely on for goods and services are gone. They’re either zombies themselves or they’re like you — scattered and trying to figure out what to do. If you want their help, you’ll have to find them as you travel, hope they find you, or risk your neck to save them. Once you’ve met up, who knows what will happen? Maybe they’ll want join you. Maybe they’ll prefer to travel alone. Or maybe they’ll be desperate and try to rob you. You just never know. In other words, you have a lot of challenges to overcome.

Let’s say that you manage to gather up a small group of fellow survivors, and you guys go off and fortify a supermarket. The store is filled with food, you’ve built a secure barrier around your base, and you’ve scrapped together enough ammo to defend yourself. In your community, your “star members” are a doctor, a mechanic, an engineer with a surprising talent for making bombs and traps, a farmer that’s really awesome with a rifle, and a guy that can get power up and running just about anywhere. You’re doing pretty good.

Then things take a turn for the worse.

Your doctor’s making everyone miserable, not doing a lick of work, drinking all day, and constantly reminding everyone of the one time he stitched up the engineer. Your hot-tempered mechanic is getting sick of his attitude and calls him out for it. There’s a scuffle and the next thing you know, you’ve got a physician with a broken arm. In the meantime, your engineer, who’s always seemed like a bit of a coward, is growing increasingly withdrawn. It’s not clear that he’s going to keep it together with all the added stress at the base. Then your farmer has a complete mental meltdown and the guy you’ve got running your generator wants him gone. Unfortunately, you know that he’s one hell of a shot, and you honestly have no idea how he’d react to being ousted. Or if you can even afford to lose the guy who’s in charge of watching your perimeter since everyone else at the base is an average shot at best.

It’s right about then that you wish you had someone skilled at negotiation to help defuse the situation. Or that you’d realized sooner that some of these people had some serious baggage. Maybe instead of a surgeon who also happens to be an arrogant asshole with a drinking problem, you would have been better off with that RN who never loses her cool.

In a  real survival situation, it’s not just the obvious skills like medicine and construction that will matter. Things like leadership, negotiation, patience, deception, and empathy all have their place as well. And for each person you meet, their psychology and history may be as important to consider as their skill set. That’s where the difficult choices come in. Some truly skilled people may be more trouble than they’re worth, but at the same time, a great personality won’t patch up a bullet wound or set a broken bone.

Ultimately, there’s no single clear-cut formula for what to do. It’s all about how you would choose to survive.

We’re thinking about all of these issues while working on NPCs for Class3, so we’d love to hear your opinions about this stuff. What skills and personality traits are important to you? What would you sacrifice for them? What weaknesses could you live with? What’s over the line? What trade-offs would you be willing to make? Post a comment and let us know what you think! I’d also like to extend a huge thanks to the crew over at MMOZed, who posted the topic that inspired this article.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Emily

Survival From The Dead

We’ve been talking a lot about zombie behavior recently. Think of it like observing zombies in the wild – Discovery Undead or Mutual of Zombieland, if you know what I mean. When they’re not trying to eat you, what will they be doing? This sparks discussions rife with images of both horror and comedy. A stranger trapped in a car surrounded by zombies. A zombie trapped in a car with no clue how to get out. We definitely want a mix of both elements in our game, but at heart, we are trying to create a serious zombie survival experience.

For every zombified hipster still staring down at his iPhone or stumbling shambler bumping into a wall and looking around in confusion before doing it again, we’ll need a lot of zeds on the prowl, showing their rage and their insatiable hunger. We need to be true to the one defining principle of zombie survival lore:

Zombies are freakin’ scary.

The terror starts at first sight. We’re used to seeing zombies in movies and games, but think about it. In person, an animated corpse would trigger our most primal instinctive responses of revulsion and fear — we’re hard wired to be afraid of physical disease, to be repulsed by rotting flesh, to mistrust unpredictable behavior, and of course, to dread the very thought of death. It’s only natural that we’d be freaked out by death incarnate shambling (or sprinting) towards us in an ever-growing horde.

Zombies will never let you rest “…we’re hard wired to be afraid of physical disease, to be repulsed by rotting flesh, to mistrust unpredictable behavior, and of course, to dread the very thought of death.” because they never rest, and never slow down. You can’t out wait them — their patience and desire to hunt you down will last forever. You might outrun a slow horde of them for a while, but you’ll never be able to settle down and feel safe because where there’s one, there’s fifty. No matter how far you run and no matter how many you take out, they’ll eventually find you again.

And when they do find you, there will be no discussion or negotiation. There’s nothing you can say to a zombie to keep it from attacking you, and there’s no noise or body language you can use to scare it off. Zombies care more about killing you than they do about their own preservation. So even though they may look a lot like us, they’re a sort of blank mirror. The very things that make us human — our emotions, stance, inflection, body movements, expressions, and the thousands of other little things that communicate our thoughts are gone. When facing a zombie, we face a reflection of ourselves that embodies everything that isn’t human.

Zombies do not simply seek to kill you. They want to consume you. If you fight a zombie, you’d better destroy it, find a way to escape, or pray to god someone will rescue you before it is too late. Defeat can only end in two ways: you’re torn apart and eaten alive, or you’re infected and turn into a zombie yourself. Not pretty. You must learn to cope with being hunted if you want to live. Humans aren’t used to having predators — especially ones that look like us or worse, used to be our friends and loved ones.

That’s where things get truly difficult. To survive, we may be forced to sacrifice some of our own humanity. Maybe this means you’ll find yourself in a situation where you need to make the choice between leaving a friend behind to die or dying yourself. Maybe it means not sharing food and water with people desperately in need because you know you’ll need it yourself. Maybe it means turning away an injured stranger because you’re afraid they will turn. Or maybe this means having to face your recently turned mother, father, spouse, or child. Even when the right answer is clear, the choice may not be easy. There, perhaps, lies the ultimate horror.

“The dangers and horrors of a fictional zombie apocalypse are deeply similar to the real hazards we face when order breaks down from natural disasters, extended power outages, riots, disease outbreaks, and other catastrophes.”But let’s say that somehow, despite everything, you’re still not afraid. After all, zombies are just stinking, mindless, uncoordinated, fragile lumps of rotting flesh and bone, right? You’ll find a way to outwit them, you tell yourself. Well, even if you do, you’re going to have to deal with those who have survived. Zombies give us all the motivation in the world to turn on each other. Your ultimate survival plan needs to protect you from zeds, but the more you succeed at that, the more you become a target for every other desperate, ruthless survivor out there.

On top of all that, I think one of the reasons zombies resonate with us is that there is a kind of realism to them. The dangers and horrors of a fictional zombie apocalypse are deeply similar to the real hazards we face when order breaks down from natural disasters, extended power outages, riots, disease outbreaks, and other catastrophes. When we find  ourselves trapped together in urban areas with no real sources of food and water, the interdependent network of comforts, technologies and conveniences we’ve come to rely on disappears. We don’t know our neighbors (or our neighbors’ neighbors) well enough to truly trust them. We are uncertain about the safety of the chemicals, radiation and biological agents that surround us. And we know that governments and giant corporations may have agendas that may not be in our interest, but we’re powerless to do anything about it. It’s all the horrors of modern society, brought to life by the walking dead.

As we’re building our world, these are some of the feelings we want to capture. There will be hope too, and humor, and moments of triumph, but we want to start by giving you a challenge worth overcoming. We never want to lose sight of what the game’s all about — surviving the zombie apocalypse.

As always, we love to hear your opinions. What scares you about a zombie apocalypse? What excites you about it? What moments and feelings are you hoping we’ll capture? Post a comment and let us know.

Phinney