There are some general principles for building a level that both level designers and level artists can rely upon: we need to motivate the player to take certain actions, and this can be done with various “tricks” even at the blockout stage.
Let's take a look at a screenshot.
Let’s consider the techniques that are indicated here, starting with contrast. This is the most common technique to help focus player attention. In the center of this frame, there is a cave with two torches. The covered cave with torches is an absolute classic in open world games since it’s a place within a scene that will provide good contrast during both day and night. During the day because it’s covered and dark, and at night due to the torches.
I also want to draw your attention to the color code in this scene shown in the screenshot: all the important elements are marked in yellow. There were many studies showing that yellow attracts attention better than other colors. In this case, it focuses the player’s eyes in the middle of the frame. Notice that the landmarks and the breadcrumbs are also yellow. I think we are all familiar with "yellow paint" in games these days. It doesn't always fit in terms of art design, but it does help gameplay. This is okay. Here are some examples from the Horizon series and Tiny Tina's Wonderlands.
Now let's move onto another important level design technique: leading lines. The most common example of leading lines in real life is the marking on a road. You don’t technically have to drive according to them, but every day a million cars do so anyway. Of course, they’re compelled to do this by traffic rules, but nonetheless, it happens. A leading line doesn’t guarantee player behavior, but it can help focus the player.
The thing is, sometimes people look for leading lines where there are none. This causes a division among level designers: some of them use only relevant visual pointers, the real leading lines. Others tend to call any elongated object a leading line — which is a mistake. Let’s look at an example from real life:
Here, someone has drawn some lines over the oblong lamps at the top of the corridor and the base of the wall beneath them. This person would probably say: “Yes, these lines provide motivation to move forward along the corridor.” This will be complete nonsense for two simple reasons, as simply understood from the following questions:
What is the function of the things chosen as leading lines?
Is it really possible to choose a different way here, even if these lines didn’t exist?
Obviously, the lamps add light to the scene, and the wall base “smooths out” the uneven edges of the finish. Further, there is, clearly, no other way to go.
Another example:
This is a “tricky” leading lines pitfall case. Yes, we cannot turn anywhere from the stairs. At the same time, however, there’s one additional function of the railing, less obvious than just “not letting you fall”. They raise the line of the “movement border” closer to the sight level. We see the railing, and thus, we don’t have to look under our feet to understand where the stairs end and turn. More to say, the border of the road clearly indicates there is an open space behind the corners, stretched from one side to the other. Which would be an actual leading line on the blockout stage.
But these cases weren’t taken from a game, so let’s break down the concept of leading lines in a game world. For starters, let’s examine a simple example from Shadow of the Colossus:
Here, the leading line is a structure connected to the main art dominant within the whole game — the tower. It’s not necessary to follow it, but it has a useful function: it directs our eyes to a key landmark and facilitates navigation.
But leading lines aren’t necessarily just elongated objects in the game world, by any means. They could be the merge point of a mountain’s lines with horizon lines — or something else: something that forms a line that the player will be able to “walk” with their eyes, (and after seeing this line, maybe the trajectory of the player’s movement will change).
Players might follow some of these lines unconsciously, because although these lines might not convey anything particular meaning, they can be placed in such an obvious place that players cannot help but follow them. Below is an example from the recent Ghostwire: Tokyo. The cables on the floor actually lead to interaction points.
The next basic level design technique is breadcrumbs. In the classic fairy tale, “Hansel and Gretel” by the Brothers Grimm, the titular children use breadcrumbs as a navigational tool to help them find their way home. Likewise, in the gaming world, breadcrumbs involve the use of objects that usually share the same shape or form to build a route.
In the Tomb Raider reboot, at the beginning of the game, there is a location with a crashed plane, and baggage scattered around it. The baggage, in this case, are the breadcrumbs, because semantically speaking, they are taken from the same group of objects. Yes, they may look different, but to the player, they have the same purpose.
Let’s take a look at Genshin Impact and its treasure chests. They are scattered about within the game and, quite often, due to their size, they serve as landmarks which set medium-term goals. In the bottom-right corner screenshot below, we see columns serving as breadcrumbs. Since they all have the same essential silhouette and form, together, they form a route which suggests a trajectory of movement.
You might ask why we’d consider this case to be breadcrumbs rather than leading lines. Well, they don’t necessarily form a solid line, and they can be placed in a more complex trajectory. (That said, leading lines in Genshin are actively used in building the landscape — pay attention to this the next time you play it.)
Platformers like Mario are entirely built on breadcrumbs — the coins. These literally set the direction of movement. The diagonal lines of the background also suggest the player move from left to right and from bottom to top. Meanwhile, the shape of the hill literally duplicates the shape of the jump that the character has to take. All in all, a very thoughtful design, and Nintendo, in practice, is really good with their visual design.
Pay attention to critical gameplay elements: often they will also use the principle of breadcrumbs. If Mario’s coins are a revelation, then where are the breadcrumbs, say, in Resident Evil? I think they are zombies. And in The Division, the covers. Why? Because as long as players follow them, they clearly understand that they’re going in the right direction. Even if it’s not a critical path, it’s at least still a designer-directed route.
Next, let’s talk about landmarks. This is where the horizon line gets broken by some unique form. Landmarks can direct the player, help set long-term goals, or indicate where the player is located. The Citadel from Half-Life 2, the place we’re trying to reach throughout the entire game — most of the time it doesn’t even set a direct goal for us — but, nevertheless, it shows how much we’ve advanced.
Further, by using landmarks, you can implement a “reward and denial” technique. In essence, this is when we set a goal, but deny the player the opportunity to visually build a path to it. The player experiences the need to see the object of interest (the reward) get closer to it, and if it’s in a building, then go around it and enter. But, the designer will only allow the player to achieve this after a few “trials” or staged errors (one of which is an attempt to reach the goal in a straight line) — this is the “denial”. In this context, each denial is not necessarily a dead end.
This trick is also possible in linear games; in this case, it will consist of a series of consecutive places that the character passes and each time complains that the goal is close, but is still unreachable. An example that comes to mind is the Capital Building or Bridge from The Last Of Us — indeed, these may have elements of both a landmark and a reward/denial object of interest.
Another obvious example is Erd’s Small Trees from Elden Ring. Below, they are far away in the screenshot, and the path to them isn’t at all obvious.
Keep in mind that you don’t need a whole meaningful landmark per se to use “reward and denial” technique. The chest behind the metal grid from Tiny Tina’s Wonderlands below would also be a relevant example!
Watch the sections on Leading Lines, Salience, and Signifiers.