There was one stunt I pulled off with consistency (and none too little
pride) in my writing courses at the prestigious Northwest-based ivy
league school, Southern Oregon University: And that stunt was to
always begin a story somewhere after
the start. Starting a story from the beginning is typically an
unintentional drag and often serves no greater purpose for the writer
than iron-wooling off some corrosively-thick rust. Not that I didn't
actually start at the beginning -- because I often did -- but I didn't
let my readers know that. I'd let them hit the treadmill running
somewhere halfway into chapter two, just before, say, my dashing
half-Filipino protagonist and his El Camino-stealing friend were about
to have a Tijuana Border Patrol canine unit start sniffing the old
Mexican standby's undercarriage before we ditch the plan and start
running across the freeway in million-degree heat. The reader didn't
even have time to contemplate the bait. The hook was already in their
mouth. Starting the story any sooner than that would've been a bit too
much denouement from the get-go. I'd start writing a story from the beginning, but I'd throw away the first several pages of anything I wrote.
So I'm jogging through The Immortals of Terra: A Perry Rhodan Adventure,
which conveniently tags itself with "adventure" right on the box, so
there's no confusion as to the volume of pixel hunting you'll engage
in, when I note the main guy's starting position: Leader of the
frickin' human race. Which is a lofty seat procured by no small feat,
I'm sure, though I haven't noted any backstory elements hinting at a
vote held by the free and democratic peoples of the entire universe. It seems you may get the job if you're over 3,000 years old and effectively immortal. Which Perry Rhodan is.
While Regent Perry Rhodan begins the adventure stripped of all
powers befitting the Commander-in-Chief of Everyone, it was still a
welcome respite from too many games that begin their journeys at a
not-so-heroic level 1, or -- more cliched yet -- at an amnesiac not-so-heroic level 1.
The Witcher has to rediscover friends, Romans, and
countrymen all over again, with his story beginning a handful of years
after Andrzej Sapkowski's last novel of the witchers, although main man
Geralt "Wolf" de Rivia is basically starting from that level 1 scratch.
You already guessed that, yes, he has amnesia.
The Elder Scrolls III and IV, Morrowind and Oblivion,
respectively, both start you off in a person-with-no-past fashion,
making the story start off at an overly-expected chapter 1, with no
introduction to the character, really, and too little preface from the
authors to make any difference. That's pretty much an amnesia-induced
intro, too.
So yeah, then along comes Perry Rhodan in Immortals of Terra,
who's a 1970's collaborative Buck Rogers conjured by a multitude of
multimedia authors ... and you start off as pretty much the most
important guy in the galaxy. As I'm travelling through the Milky Way
to retro-future saloons and strolling through This-Is-Your-Life
corridors lined with snippets from Perry Rhodan's past, I'm wondering
why more game characters don't have much to think back on. Not much of
a history to speak of, anyway. Sure, Conan went from thief to king in
an inconsitently-written-though-sometimes-poetically-feverish bundle of stories
written by Robert E. Howard (et al), but did any of the big man's
travels or conquests play any cognizant role in the brawly
button-masher Conan videogame? (They didn't. Trust me.)
In contrast: BioShock? The plane's already going down. World in Conflict? The Russians have already landed. Pirates of the Burning Sea? Your captain's about to bite the bullet.
That's what I'm talking about. All I'm asking is for developers to more often consider the idea of not beginning at the beginning.
It's a big risk, to be sure. But one that will start with the hook in
your audience's mouth, rather than them standing in line at the bait
shop.