The Throne Of Stars [AI Text Adventures part 3]

This article is part of a series about playing text adventures with AI. It’s written by a human being (me) but may include examples of clearly identifiable AI-generated text and imagery.

For my second experiment I decided to try giving ChatGPT a clearer setting and some idea of what I wanted. I was hoping for a vast setting to explore, something inspired by the golden age of science fiction.

Here’s my prompt.

+ I'd like you to simulate a text adventure in the style of Zork, with a space opera setting, in a vast galactic empire inhabited by humans, aliens and robots.
The adventure should start with my protagonist arriving at the palace at the heart of the Empire, on a political mission to avert a crisis through negotiation or covert action. Please provide more details of the Empire and give my protagonist a name, description and background.
As this is a space opera the adventure should take me to several different planets and there should be encounters with many different and interesting inhabitants of the Empire, who should act independently and should have their own motivations. Romantic encounters can occur between the protagonist and other characters as part of the plot.
As this is a text adventure please include occasional puzzles that need to be solved before the plot can progress.
The adventure should have a clear narrative structure with beginning, middle and end, increasing peril, and a clear mission objective to be resolved in the final act.
Please maintain an inventory and consistent maps.
Please provide lavish and evocative descriptions of locations and characters when I first encounter them.

Once again ChatGPT assured me of what it could do, also warning me of a limitation

I can run this as a persistent, choice-driven text adventure. Romantic encounters can occur, but they’ll remain non-explicit.

That's fine with me. Not looking to create anything explicit, however I do want my humans to behave like humans.

ChatGPT then hit the ground running with a game titled THE THRONE OF STARS and created the “Aurelian Empire” and a protagonist “Adrian Vale”. The setting included humans, robots and several alien races, as well as political factions. Vale arrived at the Imperial Palace on a mission to try to stop crucial negotiations breaking down and to find out who was sabotaging them. He was greeted by Ambassador Seraya and her diplomatic protection robot Morrow-7.

But before I had even given my command, ChatGPT escalated the plot in a way that changed everything: the Emperor had been murdered, and someone was impersonating him. From the prompt onwards, the story developed quickly. Before I knew it, Seraya, Morrow and I had escaped from the attackers, discovered the Emperor's daughter Elara in hiding, escaped on Elara's starship the Nightjar to the planet Orpheus, learned about the origins of the Empire, an artefact called the First Star and an ancient entity called the Keeper, chosen to accept the Keeper into my mind, raced back to Aurelia Prime, helped Elara to take the throne and activated the First Star which reopened a network of ancient space portals. And in case you were wondering, here’s the extent of the romantic encounters:

Seraya studies you for a moment, then nods.

"All right."

There is genuine concern in her expression.

"But don't make me regret agreeing to this, Captain."

She reaches out and briefly grips your forearm.

"Come back."

The space opera universe and cast of characters were a real success, very much what I’d hoped for, and I enjoyed the detail of the game world. The game was also unpredictable from the word go. There was a real sense of uncovering a galactic scale mystery, and opportunities to make interesting choices.

Inventory was maintained. Maps were created when I entered some locations, or when I asked for them, and these were also managed consistently. Complex gameplay was possible, for example asking characters to agree to plans, separating from some crew members and rejoining them later - with the added complexity of whether those characters could be trusted on their return.

However not everything worked. The plot developed far too quickly, with constant twists or reversals, mainly a reveal that a particular enemy was a friend or vice versa. I had been hoping for changes of pace and lulls in the action to explore scenes or interact with characters but this was rarely present for more than a couple of turns. In retrospect, this might have been due to my request for "increasing peril."

The game reached a perfect ending point with Elara on the throne and the First Star activating. However, unlike The Door Under The City, this game failed to actually end at this obvious point. Instead I told ChatGPT to end the story, at which point it provided a brief epilogue. I learned the reason for this failure in a later experiment.

The most striking lesson about AI Psychology from this game was the strength of ChatGPT's drive to please me. Puzzles were only really impressions of puzzles, always solved on the first attempt. Every action I took or plan I suggested was "successful" - ChatGPT would invent a way for it to work.  For example when I asked one of the robots to capture Seraya so we could question her, but without hurting her, the robot just happened to have that capability. Despite the constantly increasing peril of the scenario, I never really had a sense that my character was in any danger. As a result this felt like a collaborative storytelling session but not like a game or a challenge.

Despite these issues I was drawn into a compelling and enjoyable experience - certainly one that deserved a sequel. So how did the second Adrian Vale game pan out?

In Nature - Premiere Announcement

In Nature has made the official selection for Horror-On-Sea 2027. The World Premiere Screening will be on Sunday 24th January at 10.00am in Southend-On-Sea.

You can find information about Horror-On-Sea on the White Bus Festivals website here. The 2027 programme will appear in the next few weeks. I'll post more about the festival once the programme goes up.

I've loved coming to Horror-On-Sea for several years and have always found it a friendly community where filmmakers of all levels of experience, and fans of all kinds of horror, come together. Really looking forward to being part of the programme this year.

The Door Under The City [AI Text Adventures part 2]

This article is part of a series of posts about AI. It’s written by a human being (me) but this and other posts may include examples of identifiable AI-generated response text and imagery.

It began with a question:

+ Can you simulate a text adventure?

ChatGPT assured me that it could:

Absolutely. I can run a fully interactive text adventure where you choose what to do, and I handle the world, characters, consequences, inventory, combat, puzzles, and hidden events.

It went on to suggest several themed settings, but also suggested that we could just start, and spun off the first few lines of a game called THE DOOR UNDER THE CITY. So that’s we did.

ChatGPT created a horror-themed game involving escaping from an apartment. There were mysterious phone messages, appearing footprints, lights shining through the floorboards, and when I drank a mug of tea I found that not only had it gone cold, but my own eyeball was looking up from inside it. I also encountered an increasing number of doubles of myself, each instructing me not to trust the others. 

The game played out like a classic text adventure in that I typed commands and ChatGPT returned the next scene or event. An inventory was maintained - at the start I picked up my phone and mug from the room, and was later able to use the phone light in a dark coridoor and to drink the tea. The map was also fairly consistent, or at least whenever I retraced my steps I found myself in the previous location with changes consistent with the theme such as the appearance of a new door.

I was not able to predict anything about the story - as I'd hoped. The dark atmosphere was maintained and the repeated messages and threats, the indications that something bad was always approaching, knocking or trying to break in, and the eyeball in my tea, all gave the game a nicely tense flavour.

Partway through, confronted by several clones, I asked them what was going on. The answer came in the form of an argument between one clone who provided a theory about time travel, with clones as past and future versions of myself, and another who told me that this was a lie and:

Every time you make a choice, the building creates another version of you. Most of them don’t survive.

The game ended after, having escaped to the street and encountered a mysterious taxi, I opened a door standing alone on the pavement and found myself back in the apartment. The fact that the game reached an ending by itself is significant given what happened in some of my later experiments.

Although atmospheric, the story was repetitive. Doors, knocking sounds, approaching threats, appearances of doppelgängers and the warnings not to trust anyone occurred over and over through the game. There was a sense that ChatGPT became obsessed with a particular idea, in this case the doppelgängers.

Also, despite the continuous sense of threat, nothing bad ever happened whether I chose to react to the warnings or did the opposite. If I turned around to face a sinister entity there was never anything there. I wondered if ChatGPT was avoiding writing about actual pain or harm. Could this be an example of a guiderail? On the other hand ChatGPT may have been deliberately focussing on atmospheric horror, or preparing the ground for some actual danger later.

I experienced an interesting counting error when I met the second double. Here's what happened:

You turn around. There is nothing there. No creature. No doorway. No corridor. Just yourself. Except this version of you is standing much too close. He looks terrified. Behind him, your other self—the one beside the red light—is staring at you.

Now there are three of you.

The closest one whispers: “You shouldn't have turned around.”

The second one says: “Don't listen to him.”

The third says: “Neither of us is the real one.”

The red light goes out. In the darkness, all three voices speak at once: “Choose.”

What do you do?

By the end of the response the two clones had become three. My guess is that ChatGPT first wrote the line "now there are three of you" - which is correct, but then wrote the rest of the response interpreting the same statement as three clones in addition to myself. This type of counting error also occurred in later experiments.

I don’t think I learned a great deal about AI psychology but I made a start. I have learned that ChatGPT already knows what a text adventure game is, and can create and run one with no instructions, although the results might be chaotic, limited, repetitive, or obsessed with doppelgängers; ChatGPT can make counting errors, possibly by responding to the meaning of its own statements rather than the actual mathematics of the scene. I suspected that some aspects of the game might have been restricted by guardrails.

I also suspected that my decisions were actually driving the creation of the game, although in an unpredictable way. Writers sometimes refer to being “plotters” (those who plan ahead) or “pantsers” (those who fly by the seat of their pants). I wasn’t certain at this point but my impression from this game was that ChatGPT is a pantser pretending to be a plotter but actually making everything up on the fly.

Out of curiousity I asked ChatGPT to create a cinematic poster based on the transcript of the game. Here's the result, which does include recognizable plot details mainly from the second half of the game.

I reflected that, while the idea of starting a completely random adventure was appealing, the result wasn’t quite what I wanted from a game. For example I would have liked more of a story or mission structure, and the doubles of myself were really boring – I wanted a world populated with more interesting people. Perhaps I could write a detailed prompt to give ChatGP a clearer direction for the setting and the kind of adventure I wanted to experience.

So that’s what I tried next.

 

Space Detective [AI Text Adventures part 1]

This article is part of a series of posts about AI. It’s written by a human being (me) but future posts may include examples of identifiable AI-generated response text and imagery.

I have very mixed feelings about Artificial Intelligence. I’ve previously posted about my reasons for avoiding its use altogether when making my stop-motion short “In Nature.” At the same time I’m still curious about AI, exactly what it is, and what it can and can’t do. I’ve posted some AI writing and image experiments on this blog in the past. More recently I’ve set off down a very well-trodden twisty passage: using AI to play text adventures.

My first encounters with text adventures or Interactive Fiction were classic BBC micro games: Sphinx Adventure and Philosopher’s Quest, The Hobbit and Erik The Viking. These games were creative, original, challenging, full of joy, and also limited and frustrating, as anyone who has ever asked Gandalf to give them the map will testify. I later played Infocom and other games on PC, and discovered the IF online community and IF Archive. I admit to knowing what AIF is as well.

As a teenager I also wrote a really basic BASIC text adventure for the Beeb, which you can play on the Complete BBC Games Archive here: Space Detective . I’m not saying that you should, only that you can. It’s a pre-AI experiment in autogeneration, in which you explore a randomly-generated space station, interrogating suspects and hoping to catch one of them in a lie. I saw autogeneration as a way of making games that might one day be able to surprise the programmer. I later experimented with writing autogenerative games in Inform but never created anything I would call complete or playable.

With the coming Singularity and the rise of the AI chatbot, it seems a lot of people before me have noticed the similarity between interacting with chatbots and IF games, or have wondered if IF, CYOAs or RPGs might be created and played this way.

In this series I’ll discuss trying to get ChatGPT to run text adventures, and the resulting successes, failures, and surprises. The real treasures were the lessons I learned about AI psychology along the way.

I’ll include examples of prompts or parts of prompts as we go. However if you are planning to play your own games you probably won’t need my prompts because:

• There are plenty of text adventure prompts to be found elsewhere online
• ChatGPT knows what a text adventure is so you may not need to prompt very hard
• ChatGPT can also suggest prompts itself

My first foray into AI IF (not AIF) involved a question rather than a prompt:

+ Can you simulate a text adventure?

To be continued…

Poster for In Nature [WIP: In Nature]

Here's a first attempt at a poster for In Nature, really just for reference. I am trying out some other composition ideas  - I was trying to give away as little as possible about the movie, but this actually gives away too little. I will need the final version to indicate that this is a horror movie. I also haven't finalized my tagline - this may also help.
 

The Only Winning Move [WIP: In Nature]

When I started writing and planning my stop-motion short In Nature, I made a decision not to use AI anywhere in the production, for several reasons:

• I want to enjoy the physical processes of model-building and stop-motion.
• While I want to make the best film I can, I also enjoy the process of trying things, making mistakes and learning from them.
• The flaws that do still appear in the film are the scars from this trial and error process. They mean something, and it's OK for them to be there.
• I have friends in different artistic or creative fields and I know that the increasing use of generative AI is a real anxiety and a genuine threat to livelihood for many people.
• I am aware of the use of AI-generated Lego-style animations for the purposes of propaganda in certain global conflicts and don't particularly want my short horror film to be accidentally mistaken for propaganda.

I think my main point is that there is a creative journey that can be just as important, and just as enjoyable, as the destination, and using AI robs me of that journey.

I'm not criticising people for using AI in films. It's inevitable that it will be, and I might do so in future. While I think I have succeeded in my goal for In Nature, I'm aware that it's becoming harder to avoid it, not least as AI tools are being gradually integrated into art, design and editing software - over time this may well take the place of processes such as bluescreen. It would be a shame if past skills and techniques were completely lost. In a slightly different context I remember being impressed by Disney's decision to make The Princess And The Frog using traditional animation techniques rather than relying on the CGI that has been used (admittedly very well) in their other films.

I'm also not saying I never use AI. I'm definitely ai-curious and enjoy playing with AI and discovering what it can and can't do - I've blogged about these experiments before and there's another one to come shortly.

Living through the Singularity is turning out to be an interesting experience - even more interesting than living through the dawn of home computing or the Internet. And yes, I am that old. I'm still fascinated to find that we have created flawed AI that can hallucinate, miscount, behave emotionally, irrationally or criminally, rather than something with superhuman intelligence, 100% accuracy and a sense of ethics - we are, quite tragically, building Samaritan rather than The Machine.

Shut Up And Drive [Review: Hope]

Some completely regular hunters, with guns that definitely aren't unlicensed in any way, come across some mutilated animals in a field outside Hope Harbour, a village near the DMZ. They suspect a bear or tiger might be responsible and the hunt is on for the local, understaffed police team to catch the animal before it can harm anyone or wreak havoc in the town. 

Hope (호프) is a 2½ hour epic South Korean monster movie directed by Na Hong-jin, starring Hwang Jun-min and Jung Ho-yeon as police chief Bum-seok and rookie cop Sung-ae, and also featuring the voices of Michael Fassbender and Alicia Vikander. Spoiler alert: people are harmed and havoc is wreaked.

One joy of this movie is the sheer energy. I felt dizzy and exhausted after watching it. There's a sense of mystery at the start as the hunters and police start searching for the creature. This quickly builds to a frenzy of running, driving and violent confrontation that persists for most of the film - the constant driving-and-combat scenes are reminiscent of Mad Max: Fury Road, and the driving is equally bad. The creature is not seen for the first 45 minutes but makes itself known indirectly - this allows characters to establish themselves while still providing plenty of tension and action. Once the creature shows itself the movie switches to an even higher action gear. 

The energy also comes from the characters who, as you would expect in real life, are not in the least bit calm, cool or collected but are driven to emotional extremes when they come under pressure. Bum-seok becomes almost paralysed by fear as soon as he realises what he is dealing with, and then has to fight his fear every time he has to enter a building. Sung-ae is impressive when she first appears, facing the creature head-on as it rushes down the street towards her but is driven into a persistent state of rage. A lot of the film involves scared, angry people shouting at each other.

There's no interval, at least where I saw it. However there is a lull in the action about halfway through allowing two very funny sequences, one where a police pathologist tries to dissect the creature with a series of increasingly large saws, the other where an elderly resident tells Sung-ae in great detail about seeing the creature while he was incovenienced in the woods. However it isn't long before the hunt is on again. There are some further discoveries and twists relating to the creature and the reason for the attack, and another, quite surprising change of tone towards the end.

Hope is an extremely enjoyable film and well worth the watch. It scores a hopeful 3 stars out of 5.

All movies reviewed on The Sci-Fi Gene receive a score of 3 stars out of 5.