Wednesday, April 17, 2019

What is ZIL anyway?

The Infocom ZIL code dump has kicked off a small whirlwind of news articles and blog posts. A lot of them are somewhat hazy on what ZIL is, and how it relates to MDL, Lisp, Z-code, Inform, and the rest of the Golden-Age IF ecosystem.
So I'm going to talk a lot about it! With examples. But let's go through in chronological order.
The first version of Zork was MDL Zork. This is what Tim Anderson, Marc Blank, Bruce Daniels, and Dave Lebling wrote as MIT hackers around 1977 to 1979. MDL, the MIT Design Language, was a Lisp-like functional language created at MIT. MDL ran on the PDP-10, so that's where this ur-Zork ran.
Zork was ported to Fortran by Bob Supnik in 1980, and then to C. These versions, generally known as "mainframe Zork" (or "Dungeon") circulated among DEC user groups, wasted years of mainframe user time, and -- along with "mainframe Colossal Cave" -- changed the lives of many. (Including me, age 9 or so.)
At the same time, those MIT hackers formed a company and set out to... well, to make business software, if you look at those early plans. But they figured they'd first make a quick buck by porting Zork to home computers. However, MDL programs couldn't possibly run on an Apple 2 or a TRS-80. So the Infocom folks sat down and designed the Z-machine.
I'm not going to go through this story in depth. For that, I recommend Jimmy Maher's overview at the Digital Antiquarian. Here's the quickie: Infocom would write a game in ZIL, or "Zork Implementation Language" -- a high-level language derived from MDL. A compiler called ZILCH would then compile the game into a binary format.
The binary format, Z-code, was a program for an imaginary computer called the Z-machine. (Today we would say "virtual machine".) Nobody intended to build a Z-machine. But they could write a program that emulated the Z-machine. This program, called ZIP, was compact enough to run on a 16-bit home computer. So Infocom could distribute ZIP and the Z-code file on a floppy disk (or cassette tape!) and thus sell a playable game.
ZIL is not a mystery. We haven't had a lot of ZIL code available before this week. But someone scanned an Infocom ZIL manual years ago. You can read that manual here. (It's dated 1989, and primarily written by Steve Meretzky -- "SEM".)
But what kind of language is ZIL?
Above I said it was "derived from MDL". This is no surprise; the Infocom people wanted to reuse as much of MDL Zork as possible in their new commercial product. The resemblance is obvious, and indeed some of ZIL Zork was nearly identical to MDL Zork. Here's a function from the combat implementation in MDL Zork:
<DEFINE VILLAIN-STRENGTH (VILLAIN
                      "AUX"  (OD <OSTRENGTH .VILLAIN>) WV)
    #DECL ((VILLAIN) OBJECT (WV) <OR FALSE VECTOR>
           (OD VALUE) FIX)
    <COND (<G=? .OD 0>
           <COND (<AND <==? .VILLAIN <SFIND-OBJ "THIEF">>
                       ,THIEF-ENGROSSED!-FLAG>
                  <SET OD <MIN .OD 2>>
                  <SETG THIEF-ENGROSSED!-FLAG <>>)>
           <COND (<AND <NOT <EMPTY? <PRSI>>>
                       <TRNN <PRSI> ,WEAPONBIT>
                       <SET WV <MEMQ .VILLAIN ,BEST-WEAPONS>>
                       <==? <2 .WV> <PRSI>>>
                  <SET OD <MAX 1 <- .OD <3 .WV>>>>)>)>
    .OD>
And here's the same code from the ZIL version:
<ROUTINE VILLAIN-STRENGTH (OO
                       "AUX" (VILLAIN <GET .OO ,V-VILLAIN>)
                       OD TMP)
     <SET OD <GETP .VILLAIN ,P?STRENGTH>>
     <COND (<NOT <L? .OD 0>>
            <COND (<AND <EQUAL? .VILLAIN ,THIEF> ,THIEF-ENGROSSED>
                   <COND (<G? .OD 2> <SET OD 2>)>
                   <SETG THIEF-ENGROSSED <>>)>
            <COND (<AND ,PRSI
                        <FSET? ,PRSI ,WEAPONBIT>
                        <EQUAL? <GET .OO ,V-BEST> ,PRSI>>
                   <SET TMP <- .OD <GET .OO ,V-BEST-ADV>>>
                   <COND (<L? .TMP 1> <SET TMP 1>)>
                   <SET OD .TMP>)>)>
     .OD>
Pretty similar, right? But under the surface, rather different things are going on.
MDL is a functional language in the Lisp vein. Pretty much everything boils down to linked lists. Executing a program means freely constructing and throwing away lists, so there must be a garbage collector behind the scenes. The MDL compiler does what it can to eliminate memory allocation; efficient MDL code might be compiled to static machine code. But if the compiler can't do that, you wind up allocating stuff on the heap.
But the Z-machine doesn't have a garbage collector. It has no primitive operations for constructing lists or allocating objects. There are no Z-machine instructions for finding the head and tail of a list. (The famous car and cdr primitives of Lisp, called 1 and REST in MDL. The Z-machine don't have 'em.)
(You may know that I wrote a small Lisp interpreter for the Z-machine. It was fun, but the Z-machine gave me no help at all! I had to build the Lisp heap and list data structures myself, out of primitive Z-machine byte arrays. Same with the garbage collector. It's all terribly inefficient and janky.)
So how does ZIL perform these operations? Answer: it doesn't! As far as I can tell, the ZIL Zork code doesn't use Lisp-style (linked) lists at all. The 1, NTH, and REST functions appear only rarely, and I believe they always apply to static strings or arrays. MAPF, a basic Lisp tool which transforms one list into another, doesn't appear at all.
In contrast, the MDL source is filled with 1, NTH, REST, MAPF, and other functional-language constructs.
So in one sense, ZIL is a completely different language from MDL. It's a C-like compiled language which operates entirely on fixed data structures. But in another sense, as you can see from the examples above, they're almost identical! How does this make sense?
My answer is that game logic is a fairly narrow sort of programming. The combat example sets some local variables and looks up some object properties (fixed data structures!). It compares numbers; it compares variables to objects. And there's a bunch of "if" statements with "and"s and "or"s. Familiar, right? There are dozens of ad-hoc game scripting languages with similar features. You don't use a language like that to solve graph-theory problems, much less build a compiler.
(The Ancient Terror puzzle in Enchanter does involve some graph theory, but this is implemented with some rather clunky nested loops. Not a Lisp-y solution at all.)
It's not that functional methodology is impossible in ZIL. The language clearly imports as much of MDL's functional model as it can. It's just that this isn't very much. ZIL has about as much of MDL as can be compiled into static (non-allocating) code. Which makes sense -- that's exactly what the ZILCH compiler did.
To bring the story up to the present... In 1993, Graham Nelson released Inform. This language (and compiler) had exactly the same goal as ZIL: to efficiently compile source code into Z-machine files. Graham didn't have access to any information about ZIL at that point, so he just made up his own language, which was mostly like C because that's what he was familiar with.
(Of course C itself was designed to run efficiently on fixed data structures. So Graham had an easier job, in some sense. Not to take anything away from his accomplishment!)
Inform (up through version 6) became the cornerstone of the Z-machine ecosystem. But the Z-machine had some hard limits; it had been designed for 16-bit microcomputers and could not easily be expanded. So by 1997 there was a clear need for a new virtual machine. This is where I come into the picture. I designed Glulx as a replacement VM.
Amusingly (or ironically, or inevitably), Glulx had one core goal: to efficiently compile Inform 6 code to a new virtual machine. Every line of I6 code had to work essentially the same as it had before. Glulx used 32-bit values instead of 16-bit values, and I reorganized the memory layout and the instruction table. But the core data structures looked very much like those of the Z-machine.
As a result, it should be possible to compile ZIL to Glulx! I don't think anybody's done it. But Glulx was shaped by I6, I6 was shaped by the Z-machine, and the Z-machine and ZIL were shaped by each other. The chain of influence extends all the way from Joel Berez's coffee table to mine.
Inform 6 was followed by Inform 7, a completely new language which compiles to Inform 6 source code. At least for now. Future versions may compile to a new abstraction. But that's a story for another time.
Footnote: my conclusions about ZIL have to be qualified: I could be wrong. I don't know ZIL or MDL, really. I have an MDL programming guide open as I write this...

EDIT-ADD:
Given the MDL and ZIL code examples above, I thought it was worth adding the Inform 6 equivalent. This is from Allen Garvin's hand-polished I6 port of the ZIL code.
[ VillainStrength oo villain od tmp ;
    villain = oo-->0;
    od = villain.strength;
    if (od >= 0) {
        if (villain == thief && Thief_engrossed) {
            if (od > 2) {
                od = 2;
            }
            Thief_engrossed = false;
        }
        if (second && second has weapon && oo-->1 == second) {
            tmp = od - oo-->2;
            if (tmp < 1) {
                tmp = 1;
            }
            od = tmp;
        }
    }
    return od;
];
If you check, this is line-by-line equivalent to the ZIL version above. But it's much more readable to modern eyes, isn't it?
To some degree, this is just because I6 is part of the C-derived family of languages. (I'm told that "Algol family" is a better term, but I've never touched Algol.) This includes C, C++, C#, Javascript, Perl, Swift... very different languages, but they all share the basic assumption that if (X) print(Y) is a sensible way to write code. A programmer these days might never have used any other kind of language.
I6 follows C very closely, in this example. The only quirks are:
  • the --> operator (for arrays, where C would have oo[0], oo[1], oo[2]);
  • the has operator (for testing object flags; in ZIL this was FSET?);
  • defining functions in square brackets, which is idiosyncratic.
Everything else is expressed in ways that look completely natural. Mind you, the lower-case text helps a lot. But we're very used to code where identifiers are text, operators are (mostly) punctuation, and one line of code is conventionally one abstract step of procedure.
In 1979, for people brought up on Lisp, MDL probably wasn't as strange. No doubt they would say that it's much simpler to put the operator at the beginning of every call (<SET OD .TMP> rather than od = tmp;). Test operators always end with ?, whereas in the I6 code you have to look for an if to figure out whether you're performing a test. The difference between period and comma as atom prefixes is no doubt a concise way to express something (which I haven't bothered to look up what it is). And so on.
I still think the lower-case code is easier on the eyes, but hey.

EDIT-ADD 2: Tim Anderson has kindly sent along a lot of details about MDL -- or Muddle, as I should be calling it. I include his comments verbatim below.
A few comments on Muddle, ZIL, and their friends:
Although the original PDP-10 Zork was written in Muddle, it was, unintentionally, much closer to ZIL (which didn't exist yet, obviously) than it had to be. There were a few reasons for this:
  • Lisp-ish languages were, by outsiders, thought to be inherently slow, so it was a point of pride to write code (and build a tool chain) that disproved this. (There was a benchmark done with some math-heavy computation where compiled Maclisp was faster than FORTRAN, on the same hardware.) A lot of things in the Zork code were there at least in part because of this.
  • The basic objects (rooms and so on) were not lists, they were vectors (or perhaps templates; the difference was slight)--each object was a block of contiguous memory, much like a C struct. Quicker access to the elements, smaller memory footprint, and--much closer to the data structures you'd find in C, or ZIL.
  • There was a lot of effort put into not provoking the garbage collector (No consing, please, this is Lisp!). The Muddle garbage collector, when it ran (there was a lot of innovation in garbage collection later, but this was 1977), just stopped processing for a while, made a clean, compact copy of the heap, replaced the old one with that, and let you continue. This could take several CPU seconds, which on a time-sharing system could turn into a really long long time--very bad for interactive game play. In addition: the machine being used had a 256K word address space, with 512K of physical memory, and was supporting 10, sometimes 20 users. Keeping the memory footprint down was a good way to keep your friends: as much as possible of the code was in read-only memory--allowing it to be shared between processes, and ensuring that there was a clean separation later on, in ZIL. And avoiding dynamic memory allocation reduced the really significant load produced by the garbage collector.
  • As Jesse mentions in the comment about macros, they provided full access to the Muddle interpreter at compile time, and were certainly used in the original Zork as well as later on. The only memory saving produced by compilation was the elimination of macro expansion at runtime (in Muddle, as in Lisp, a call to a macro would be evaluated twice: first to run the macro, which returned some freshly consed-up code, then to evaluate that; the compiler did the first step at compile time, then compiled the result). Muddle, like Lisp, had as its basic function EVAL, which ran the interpreter on a single piece of uncompiled code. Zork never called that--slow, prone to unexpected consing, and so on. So it didn't get in the way when moving to ZIL (or to FORTRAN); everything that was running in Zork was compiled, which limited the bad (inefficient, difficult to port) things that Muddle supported in the interpreter.
  • Each Muddle atom could have two values--a global, and a local (,FOO was syntactic sugar for <GVAL FOO>; .FOO, <LVAL FOO>). Locals, as with Lisp, had dynamic scope--in interpreted code, functions called from within an invocation of MYFUNC could access any locals bound within MYFUNC (assuming that no intervening function had another binding of them, of course). In compiled Muddle, though, local variables that needed to be accessed from outside the function itself had to be declared SPECIAL; any other locals ended up having, in effect, static scope within the body of the defining function. Zork used no specials: it made for faster, and, honestly, more understandable code. And also made it easier to port to statically-scoped languages.
  • The Muddle compiler acquired some intrinsics to allow direct (single machine instruction) access to the key parser output variables PRSA, PRSO, and PRSI. This was a different way of thinking about things, and again required a bit more discipline.
  • It was unnecessary to declare the type of anything in Muddle, but that would make the compiler's job much harder, and reduce performance. So pretty much every variable, and every field in the Zork objects, had a type declaration associated with it. Faster code, but also easier to port to a language without dynamic types.
  • MAPF (or its friend, MAPR--map First vs. map Rest) was probably used in Zork somewhere, but not in the most general form, where it constructed a new list; rather, it was an easy way to iterate over a list. In that form, it would be relatively easy, if it came to that (I don't think it did), for Zilch to do something sensible, or even to write a macro that would construct the iteration at compile time.
The virtual machine used for Cornerstone was quite a bit more powerful than the Z machine. There were a few reasons for that:
  • It was required. A nearly-relational database, with what passed for a GUI in those days, had need of a lot more functionality than a text adventure.
  • The minimal target hardware was something like a PC-AT (maybe an XT): hard drive, 640K of memory, etc. There was no need to run on an Apple II or a Commodore 64.
  • Infocom had a fair amount of experience with these things by then.
  • Not to be invidious, but the people building the tool chain for Cornerstone were better at that kind of development (years of experience, and it was their primary job--not true with ZIL, except for the people building the individual Z machine implementations) than those defining ZIL and the Z machine. They weren't as good at writing games, though, so it worked out.
(-- Tim Anderson)

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

All of Infocom's game source code

I can just leave that statement there, right? I don't have to elaborate? Jason describes it better than I could, anyhow:
So, Infocom source code is now uploaded to Github. Most people don't speak or want to speak the language it's written in, ZIL (Zork Implementation Language). You can browse through it and kind of suss out what's being done when and the choices made over the course of time.
In cases where the source code had multiple revisions, and I don't know the story of what revisions came when and came why, I did a reasonable job of layering them out (this came before that, that came after that) and doing multiple "check-ins" of the code so you can see diffs.
Often, there are cases that some games were built up from a previous game, allowing modification of the macros and structures and then making them work in the new game. For example, an NPC partygoer in one game was a thief in a previous one. Dungeons become stores, etc.
--@textfiles (Jason Scott), from a twitter thread
This material has been kicking around for a while now. If you search for articles about "the Infocom drive", you'll see some discussion from years past. Actually, don't do that, it's mostly old arguments that don't need to be rehashed.
The point is that a great deal of historical information about Infocom has been preserved -- but it's not publicly archived. You can't go research it anywhere. Nobody admits to having it, because it's "proprietary IP", and you're not supposed to trade in that stuff because companies like Activision make the rules.
So when Jason puts this information online, he's taking a stance. The stance is: history matters. Copyright is a balance between the rights of the owner to profit and the rights of the public to investigate, discuss, and increase the sphere of culture. Sometimes the balance needs a kick.
Quite possibly all these repositories will be served with takedown requests tomorrow. I'm downloading local copies for myself tonight, just in case.
One other note: Jason's comments say "...there is currently no known way to compile the source code in this repository into a final "Z-machine Interpreter Program" (ZIP) file." This is somewhat out of date. There are long-standing open-source efforts to build a ZIL compiler. ZILF is the most advanced one that I know of. I don't know whether it's rated to compile this historical ZIL code -- but I'm sure that people are already giving it a shot.

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

Firmament Kickstarter time

Cyan has just posted the Kickstarter page for their next game.

You may recall, or not, that they announced Firmament a year ago. They built a five-minute teaser / tutorial chapter, which they showed off at GDC. (The teaser isn't publicly available, but you can read my impressions.)

Then the whole project went into stasis as they worked on the Myst 25th anniversary package. But that's shipped now, and it's time for the next thing.

So what can we say about this? The first obvious point is that they're starting basically from where they left off a year ago. The Kickstarter video contains no game footage that I didn't see last March, either in the teaser or their announcement video. On the other hand, the target date is July 2020, which is going to be fast work. But, on the third hand, they said that the teaser took just two months to build, and it seemed to include most of the required technical work.

The Kickstarter goal is $1.285 million. It's a straight-up plan: release Firmament for Windows and VR platforms (Oculus and Vive). There are no stretch goals, which admirably simplifies the question. (The page hints that with enough funding, they might add Mac support. But there's no promises and no dollar figure on that.)

$1.285M is only fractionally higher than Obduction's goal ($1.1M). And we recall that Obduction ran into funding hassles; it required more cash than its KS provided, and the company had trouble attracting publisher funding. So Firmament's budget is an interesting question. The KS page talks about Cyan's "smaller, experienced team"; it sounds like they're aiming to do this on a leaner basis than their previous games. Whether this translates to a smaller game world, or a sparser visual environment, remains to be seen.

Less visual detail is a good bet, though. We recall that Obduction was a troublesome VR port. The original game was gorgeous on flatscreen machines, but it bogged down badly on VR hardware (which requires higher resolution and framerate). Cyan wound up simplifying the environment noticeably for the VR versions.

By everything they've said, Firmament will be designed for VR and then ported to the flatscreen environment. That avoids the trouble Obduction ran into, and presumably it lowers their modelling budget as well.

I probably don't have to tell you that I'm excited about this. I'm excited about this!

I've said before than I'm not a VR fan. VR is fun and immersive, but no more so (for me!) than regular old first-person adventure games. But I am a fan of new models of game interaction. Touchscreen adventures like The Room are a huge kick for me. So I was tremendously interested by the hand-controller gestures in last year's Firmament demo. The teaser just let you raise your hand to summon the flying bit-bot, and then point at a socket to send it whizzing off to plug in. But the KS page talks this up:

The adjunct doesn’t speak, but it does understand you and your hand gestures. Through your interactions both you and your adjunct evolve a vocabulary of gestures you learn together. What starts as rudimentary communication evolves into a complex symphony of actions as you solve challenges together and begin to understand the epic nature of what lies ahead.

That's got my number.

Cyan now has a Discord forum for community communication. I've been hanging out in it for a few months now. As with any forum of a small company with a large fandom, you are primarily talking to other fans, but Cyan occasionally drops in a nugget. They started hinting at this KS a week ago, for example. So you might take a look.

(While I'm wittering on, remember that Zed is an upcoming adventure game published -- though not developed -- by Cyan. Due out "this spring", so real soon now.)


Thursday, January 24, 2019

Prince of Persia (2008) -- legacy?

I wanted some good jumpy climby fun, and I was all out of Tomb Raider, so I spent a few days replaying Prince of Persia. That's the 2008 reboot of the 2003 reboot of the series, if you're keeping track, and who isn't? It's on Steam, ten bucks.
Many many articles were written about this game and its audacious ending. I'm not certain I want to spoil it. It's a ten-year-old game, so you've probably played it; but it's a ten-year-old game, so maybe you haven't played it... okay, fine.
Big ol' SPOILER for Prince of Persia 2008: at the end, you and your NPC companion defeat the dark god -- at great cost. You are not happy with the cost. So, in a post-credits scene, you have the opportunity to undo it; and thus undo everything you've accomplished. Selfishly; self-destructively; tragically.
From a storytelling point of view, this worked great. It's in character; you're a wandering thief, you can be a selfish jerk. It's a sympathetic decision. It's plenty foreshadowed. The surprise is in the narrative construction: the character choice is not presented as a story choice. It's a force. Post-credits, you're stuck in a ruined, empty city. You've got nothing to do, literally mechanically nothing, but undo your success or turn off your computer.
Or jump off a cliff, I suppose. I didn't try that. But suicide is emphatically not in character.
So you can imagine all the reactions, negative and/or positive, from people who liked their story tropes traditional and/or subverted. Some of that is still online, you can read through it.
(Wikis remind me about the DLC episode which extended the story. I dimly remember playing this. Narratively, it did nothing but muck up the ending. You can skip it. It's not included in the Steam release anyhow.)
Ten years have gone by. What have we learned? What games have built on this idea?
I'm not talking about tragedy. Tragedy is cheap (and horror is cheaper). Two out of three walking simulators spring the reveal that you're dead, or everybody else is dead, or both.
I'm not talking about the trope where you've been terribly misled, and everything you've done is bad. Then you have to go back and fix it all, or perhaps destroy everything you've accomplished. That's a plot twist, but it still leads to a triumph. You figure out how to win and then you win.
I'm not talking about games where you can choose the good ending or the bad ending. You always know the difference.
I'm talking about a game where you can see a good ending (to the story), but the real ending (to the game) isn't that. The game says you walk on by and do something else. It's tragedy, but tragedy specifically in the interactive mode.
We normally think of this gimmick in horror games. Don't open that door! ...but you're stuck in the room, you have to open the door. Or solve the puzzle, or whatever. It raises tension or moves the plot forward; this is familiar. What's unique about PoP, I think, is using this gimmick to end the story. It's the "oh no" that you can't fix.
Soma goes down a related path. There's a good ending, but you don't get it because that's not how the universe works. Someone else gets it. It's a traditional tragedy, not something driven by game mechanics, but it left me with something of the same feeling. Perhaps because the body of the game does such a good job of showing you how the universe works.
It occurs to me that my old favorite Soul Reaver tries to pull the trick retroactively. (In the '90s!) The previous game, the original Blood Omen, ended with a good/evil choice -- cheap and unsubtle. Soul Reaver declares that your character chose evil. He decided to conquer the world as a vampire lord. Enjoy his thousand-year reign of blood and tyranny. But this does not occur within the play experience of either game.
I have to include Universal Paperclips. There's no "good ending", but the idea is the same. Everything you do in UP is awful; you do it because you know how to play idle-clicker games.
Oxenfree? Interesting suggestion. The original game is a tragedy; you are trapped. The "new game plus" extended ending offers the possibility that you can escape, but at the cost of undoing everything that you've experienced. This doesn't release evil(tm), but it nullifies all the relationships and character moments that you've become invested in through the game. That counts as far as I'm concerned.
What other examples can we think of? What narrative games mess with the concept of game-victory itself? (As distinct from "happy endings".)

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

2019 IGF nominees: my favorites

There were my favorites among the IGF narrative finalists. I don't mean the best -- although the games I liked did well. I mean the games that I finished with a big grin on my face. The ones that spoke directly to me and said "Zarf, I am what you're here for." Or possibly "I am here for you." (IF authors have trouble telling first-person from second-person pronouns.)
  • Return of the Obra Dinn
  • Seers Isle
  • Wandersong
Repeat: I was on the narrative jury and played free review copies of these games.

Friday, January 11, 2019

2019 IGF nominees: mixed reactions

And now, IGF finalists that I didn't get into.
This is tricky to introduce. I'm not saying these games were bad. I'm not even saying that I had a bad time playing them. Rather, these are games that are aimed at an audience which isn't quite me.
So you're about to sit through why they didn't work for me. But this really is more audience-analysis than game-analysis.
  • Unavowed
  • Genital Jousting
  • Hypnospace Outlaw
(Repeat: I was on the narrative jury and played free review copies of these games. Except Unavowed, which I bought earlier this year.)

Monday, January 7, 2019

NarraScope 2019: still seeking talk proposals

Hello! Happy 2019! I know, this is my second blog post of 2019, I forgot. Rabbit vorpal rabbit.
Let me remind everybody that 2019 is the year of NarraScope 2019, the IF/narrative/adventure gaming conference which we will be running in Boston in June. Cambridge, I should say -- it will be on MIT campus.
Let me also remind you (this is the real point here) that we are still accepting proposals for NarraScope talks! And panels, presentations, lightning talks, and so on. If you're advancing the state of the art in interactive narrative, or just doing stuff you're excited to talk about, please sign up.
The deadline for proposals is January 18th, which is just under two weeks away. We hope to hear from you.
NarraScope celebrates the diverse voices of game design. We aim to create a safe, welcoming, and accountable space for all participants.