Stories & Motivations in Games

What is a Motivation?

A motivation is the aim, the aim must be good enough to keep the player hooked and willing to play to find out how the game ends.

What is a Story?

A story is the path the game will follow. It tells you what is happening and what is going to happen next. A good story will keep the player hooked.

Genre;

Sci-fi/Action

What is the Motivation?

To invade Earth and avenge the death of your father.

Emotional Themes; Grief, Revenge, Justice, Peace, Bewilderment.

Beginning;

It was an early Tuesday morning in the year of 4289 on the planet of Uron, the only aliens that were not still tucked up in their chambers were Erina, the Chief’s wife, and her assistant, Mylon. Erina was anxious for the return of her husband and Chief, Nyclops, from Earth after an attempted raid. The hours dragged by in what felt like days to Erina and Mylon. The sun was starting to rise and more aliens were beginning to wake, including Erina’s three children, Tyrius, Orla and Pygon. The day went by and there was still no sign of Nyclops and his elite.

Three days later Nyclops’ ship appeared in the dead of night, battered and bruised aliens stumbled from inside. Erina dashed over in search for her husband, but he was nowhere to be seen. “He’s inside your majesty, he’s in a bad way” Came a voice from a bewildered soldier. Erina rushed inside, all three children in tow. Nyclops was lay in a hospital chamber, bruised and scratched from head to toe. He had been attacked by the Government on Earth. With his last breath he uttered the words, “They have killed too many of our men Tyrius, finish what I started and put an end to the human race once and for all” and with that he closed his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. Erina let out a loud cry, and in that moment the planet went into mourning.

Middle;

Five years passed before Tyrius became of age to take rule of his planet, on the day he took the crown Tyrius vowed to his people the same promise he made to his father whilst he was on his deathbed. “The humans took something very special away from me,” he began, his voice trembled in bewilderment “My father was a great man, a great leader. He will not be truly at rest until we complete his dying wish!” Tyrius paused and looked down at his race all staring up at him with glazed eyes. “The people of Earth will pay for what they did. My father asked me to take charge and to finish what he couldn’t complete.” Another deep paused allowed Tyrius to hear the silence of his fellow aliens. “The humans will pay, my father did not want to harm them all, but I, I want to end their race and finish what the great Nyclops started!” The crowd started to mumble, “EARTH SHALL BE OURS!” Tyrius shouted as he raised a fist in the air to a loud reception of cheers.

A few weeks passed while Tyrius put his plan in to action. For this to have happened he held auditions for fellow aliens to join his elite. Pygon wanted to join Tyrius and avenge their father, but Erina refused him to go. Tyrius had help from his two best friends, Yulo and Kika in choosing the two remaining members to join the elite. After deep negotiations Tyrius decided that Wasyl and Grimun would join Yulo and Kika in his elite to help him control the army that he would take with him to Earth.

Later that day Tyrius unveiled the next step to his plan. “I need men to help me fight, we will be holding a training camp on the northern side of the planet. Men must be at least 300 years old to sign up and they must be willing to fight to the death!” Tyrius took a deep breath and looked over to his mother, who was stood to the side with his brother and sister beaming with pride. “Who’s with me?” He shouted, “The first session will be tomorrow morning, 7am sharp.”

After weeks of intensive training, Tyrius and his elite and created the best army out of the best men on the planet. Tyrius then split up the army in to sections, creating different sized platoons. These platoons were named after the countries of Earth. The Russian platoon was far bigger than the Irish platoon, allowing more men to the bigger countries. “Each platoon will carry out their duties in different ways. This will depend on the location and size of their area, some platoons may complete their task in a few days. If this happens they will report back to me and I will reassign them to a new area to assist in the larger operations.” Tyrius looked ahead of him to the hundreds of aliens willing to sacrifice their lives to avenge the death of his father, “I want to thank you all for signing up for this, because Nyclops wasn’t just my father… He was father to us all, so let’s finish what he started and make a new life for our families on the planet of Earth!” The crowd fell silent, each alien removed his hat and bowed his head as a picture of Nyclops was projected onto the wall.

Almost six months after Tyrius became Chief of Uron his plan was ready to take place. Every alien had been trained, placed into their platoon, prepped and briefed and give a final week to spend with their families before lining up ready to take off for battle.

“Many of you think that this plan has taken me six months to figure out, but the truth is, it’s a lot bigger than you all think.” Tyrius paused, he looked over to his men on the right and then to the rest of his race on the left “2174 days I have been thinking of this plan, nearly six years I have waited for this day. Six years locked away in my chamber thinking of the best approach, thinking of the best methods, thinking of the best aliens to help me.” Tyrius paused again, “The time for thinking has stopped and the time to act is now.” Tyrius paused one last time allowing the crowd to cheer and clap. “If everything goes to plan we will be back in three months, until my return I leave my brother Pygon in charge!” Tyrius stepped down from his podium and walked over to his men, he took one final look at all of the aliens that had come to see them off, gave them a salute and ordered his men to board their ships.

It took Tyrius and his elite, followed by the two ships also going to the same location as the elite, two weeks to fly to Bogota in Colombia. Each of the elite were hard at work in their specific roles. Yulo and Kika were there for the protection of Tyrius, who better to trust your life with that the two people you have spent 375 years growing up with? Meanwhile Wasyl was head of communications, he would track where each ship was, as well as monitoring the number of troops injured and the number of civilians left on Earth. Grimun’s role was to ensure each platoon had enough equipment and resources available to them, if they ran low it would be his job to send them some more.

“Tyrius, Tyrius come quick!” shouted the voice of Wasyl from the tracking station. “It’s Germany, they’re fighting back! We don’t have enough men there to fight it off, what shall I do?” His voice was rushed and panicked. “Okay Wasyl, how are the men doing in the smaller countries?” Tyrius asked as Wasyl scanned the map. “The men of Monaco, Saint Kitts & Nevis, Malta and Grenada have nearly completed their mission!” Tyrius wasted no time in telling Wasyl to send them to Germany as soon as they have succeeded in their own missions.

“Sending more supplies to Russia, Chief!” came the quiet voice of Grimun from the opposite side of the room, “Very Good, make sure Germany have the best resources we have, make them priority until it is under control Grimun!” Tyrius replied as there was a loud beep from outside of the ship.

Yulo and Kika went outside to inspect what it was, “Wasyl, get us out of here! There trying to blow us up!” Came a cry from Yulo as they ran back into the ship. “Roger that,” Wasyl cried as he ran to the front of the ship and lifted them from the ground, “Chief, we’re clear. Where too next?” Wasyl asked as Tyrius turned his back and stared out of the window before calmly saying “Take us to Berlin Wasyl, that way we can keep a closer eye on the situation in Germany!”

Things in Germany seemed to calm down after a few days of profusely fighting back and Tyrius was pleased with the result. “Give me some stats Wasyl,” Tyrius demanded. “Yes sir, so out of 8 billion people who were alive when we got here 49 days ago there is 3.7 billion left. So that is an average of 75 million deaths per day.” Wasyl beamed up at his superior looking for his approval, “Very Good Wasyl, is there any platoons nearly finished their work?” Wasyl scanned the charts briefly before answering with “Yes Sir, there are four countries almost complete. Mexico, South Africa, Argentina and Portugal are almost clear… Where do you want them to go next boss?” Tyrius himself paused to scan the map, “Hmm, everything seems under control. Bring them here for a few days of rest, then we shall reassess the situation. Do this for all those who complete their task in the next two days Wasyl.” Tyrius walked away.

Another two weeks past and all of the aliens had made their way back to Berlin and the surrounding areas. The only country still standing was Germany.

End;

The end was near and Tyrius was hopeful to return home within the next few days, this was until there was a loud bang from the distance and Wasyl cried from the tracking station. “Tyrius, Tyrius, you need to get here quick, Tyrius!” Tyrius ran in, “What was that?” Wasyl took a deep breath, “They are all gone, every single one of our troops in Germany have been obliterated by another alien force!” He pointed to the tracker to show Tyrius the mass of red circles indicating the fallen men. “Wasyl, what is this?” Tyrius pointed to a group of purple figures moving quickly to the location of the Uronites, “That sir is the other alien force coming to obliterate us too!” Wasyl said as calmly as he could manage.

Tyrius ran to the outside of the ship, “Everybody get on board a ship now! It doesn’t matter which ship just get to one and stay on it and await instructions from Grimun.” He shouted as the aliens scrambled to any ship they could get on.

“The Chief has ordered us to return home, we are being chased by who we believe to be our main opposition, The Yiman Army.” Grimun ordered the other ships.

Each ship scrambled their way into the air and they headed for Uron, “Each ship has a tracking system in the bottom room of the ship, five aliens on each ship should be down their tracking the purple mass that are following us, report back to the drivers! Gunfire will be necessary, be prepared! We have a bigger fight on our hands now.” Wasyl warned his fellow aliens.