The Magic of World Building
The first time I ever truly experienced the magic of world building, I was a young girl curled up in a chair with a well-worn copy of The Farthest Away Mountain. I had picked it up by chance, not knowing that within those pages, I would be transported to another world—a world of enchanted peaks, talking gargoyles, and distant, uncharted lands. I didn’t just read about the protagonist’s journey, I lived it. Every strange forest, every mysterious creature, every silent moment at the foot of the mountain was vivid in my mind. I was no longer a girl with a book; I was part of something much larger.
That experience stuck with me. It made me realize how powerful a well-crafted world could be—not just in books, but in any form of storytelling. The best stories don’t just tell you what happens, they make you feel like you're standing in the middle of it all, with the wind against your face and adventure just over the horizon.
Years later, I still find that same immersive magic in video games.
Video games have the unique ability to blend narrative, visuals, and interactivity to create deeply immersive worlds. They take what I first experienced with The Farthest Away Mountain and turn it up to eleven, allowing players to not only witness a world but to explore it, shape it, and be shaped by it in return. Whether you're traversing the Wild West of Red Dead Redemption 2 or roaming the vast plains of Hyrule, a well-crafted game world has the power to pull you in completely, making you forget the real world outside your screen.
What makes world building in video games so powerful is the agency it gives the player. In a novel, the world unfolds through the author's narrative control. In games, though, the player plays an active role in discovering and interacting with the world. You can choose to follow the main quest, delve into side stories, or simply walk through a remote forest to see what you find. This freedom, combined with thoughtful world design, gives players a sense of ownership over their experience, much like I felt when reading that novel as a child.
One of the key elements in creating a rich and believable game world is lore. Just as in fantasy novels, lore forms the backbone of a video game's universe, providing context for why things are the way they are. A good game doesn't overwhelm the player with every detail upfront but rather offers breadcrumbs—bits of history, culture, and mystery that make the world feel alive and enduring.
Take Hollow Knight, for example. The world of Hallownest isn’t just a backdrop for platforming challenges; it’s a living, decaying kingdom with a deep and tragic history. The lore is not spoon-fed to the player but revealed slowly through cryptic dialogue, hidden locations, and environmental storytelling. Every crumbling ruin, forgotten statue, and quiet NPC hints at a much larger story beneath the surface. Players who choose to dig deeper into the game’s world are rewarded with a profound sense of mystery and discovery, piecing together the tragic fall of a once-great kingdom. It’s this subtle world-building that keeps players engaged long after they’ve completed the main path.
Similarly, in Outer Wilds, lore and world-building are integral to the gameplay experience. As an astronaut exploring a small but intricately designed solar system, the player is not just discovering physical locations but uncovering the remnants of an ancient alien civilization. The beauty of Outer Wilds is that the story and lore are entirely tied to exploration and discovery. Each planet, with its unique environment and secrets, contains clues about the past. As you venture further, you slowly unravel the mysteries of the Nomai and the strange cosmic phenomena at the heart of the universe. The game’s lore is subtle, delivered through ancient ruins and scientific logs, encouraging players to piece together the narrative on their own.
That said, not every game requires extensive lore or intricate world building to be effective. Some games focus more on gameplay mechanics and the sheer joy of exploration. Super Mario Bros. Wonder is a great example of this. While its worlds are vibrant and imaginative, they don’t rely on a deep backstory or rich lore to keep players engaged. The focus is on fast-paced platforming, whimsical level design, and inventive mechanics that constantly surprise and delight the player. Each level introduces new visual themes and challenges, but there’s no overarching history or world-building to dive into. The game is built for fun and creativity, not immersion in a complex universe.
In a world as competitive as today's game market, where new releases flood digital stores every week, world building is an opportunity for developers to stand out. Even subtle details—whether it's a village's architecture reflecting the struggles of its people or an NPC reacting differently to your character over time—signal to players that you’ve thought deeply about the world they’re engaging with. It’s this attention to detail that makes a game world feel cohesive and believable, drawing players deeper into the experience.
After reflecting on these examples and discussing with some fellow developers, I’ve come to a conclusion about how I want to improve the world building in my own projects. One area that can make a huge impact is NPC development. It’s easy to think of NPCs as quest givers or background characters, but when they are fleshed out and given depth, they become an integral part of the world itself.
When you meet an NPC in a game like Red Dead Redemption 2, they’re not just standing there waiting to hand you a quest. They have routines, personalities, and a sense of history. It feels like they have their own lives beyond what the player sees, which in turn makes the world feel real. This depth in NPCs is something I want to focus on in my own projects. Too often, developers shy away from robust NPC design because it requires extra resources and effort. It’s one of the most requested features from gamers, and should developers put in the time, I do believe it’s worth the effort. It’s not always about adding hundreds of characters; even just a few well-developed, memorable NPCs can go a long way in making the world feel lived-in.
The goal of world building, whether in books or games, is to create a space where players or readers can lose themselves. The fantasy worlds we enter should feel as if they continue to exist even when we're not there, much like how I felt when I first turned the pages of The Farthest Away Mountain. Now, as a game developer, I want to carry that same sense of immersion and wonder into the worlds I create, knowing that the smallest details can leave the biggest impact. By focusing on making richer NPCs and caring about the nuances of the environment, I hope to build worlds that players can not only explore, but believe in.
