Mastering Environmental Storytelling in Video Game Development

What is environmental storytelling?

Environmental Storytelling is a game design technique that embeds narrative elements directly into the environment using visual and audio cues.

Most players are more aware of traditional storytelling techniques like dialogue, cutscenes, and exposition. However, the environmental storytelling in games like Dark Souls, Fallout, and The Last of Us is beloved for its immersive quality.

Environmental storytelling is a fundamental aspect of level design: Level design encompasses not only the visual layout and architecture of a game space but also the integration of gameplay mechanics and the way players interact with the world.

Through attentively designed objects, architecture, lighting, and even sound, level designers can subtly guide players to uncover plot fragments through exploration and interaction, making them an active participant in telling the story.

For example, consider how much of the wider world you discover in The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim simply by traversing its environment.

This filled-in map shows the extent to which Skyrim encourages players to learn about its world’s rich history through environmental exploration and numerous unique stories:

Worldbuilding: This refers to the process of creating a fictional universe with coherent histories, cultures, and lore.

In the context of environmental storytelling, worldbuilding can involve designing spaces that tell stories through their detailed and purposeful crafting.

Through worldbuilding, developers design environments that reflect the historical and cultural nuances of the game world, allowing players to piece together the lore simply by interacting with and observing their surroundings.

This approach enhances players’ immersion, as every object, building, or landscape tells a story that connects to the larger world.

To effectively execute environmental storytelling, it’s crucial to weave narrative elements seamlessly into every layer of the game environment that evoke emotions and encourage players to question their surroundings.

For example, The Fallout series has a mix of patched-up old tech, recycled components, old-timey weapons, and crumbling buildings that tell you a lot about the game’s world without any direct storytelling. Look how much you can learn from this one room in Fallout 4:

Set dressing/drop placement: Set dressing involves the placement of specific objects within a game environment to tell a story. Items like worn-out books, broken weapons, or faded signs are carefully chosen to convey narrative elements, making them crucial tools in environmental storytelling.

Common misconceptions about environmental storytelling

One common misunderstanding about environmental storytelling is that it’s synonymous with worldbuilding. While both are closely related and essential to immersive game experiences, they serve different purposes in game development.

Environmental storytelling vs. worldbuilding: Environmental storytelling focuses on how the physical environment (such as objects, textures, and spatial arrangements) conveys a narrative in the moment.

Worldbuilding is a broader, more expansive process focused on creating the foundational lore, history, and cultural systems of a fictional universe. This includes designing interconnected histories, cultural practices, and environments that provide depth and continuity.

Think of worldbuilding as the grand canvas upon which environmental stories are painted.

For example, ancient ruins with weathered statues, intricate carvings, and crumbling pathways can convey a sense of a long-forgotten civilization, adding layers of historical depth to the game world—like the Ancient Ruins of Rauh in Elden Ring:

This approach allows players to sense the passage of time and connect with the broader story even without direct exposition.

Environmental storytelling, on the other hand, is a more immediate and moment-to-moment tool that uses the physical space to convey specific narrative details. This involves crafting interactive or visually evocative environments that encourage players to interpret the story through their own observations.

For example, in a post-apocalyptic setting, an abandoned convenience store with partially stocked shelves, vines growing through cracked walls, and makeshift barricades covering windows can tell a nuanced story of desperation and survival, without relying on explicit dialogue.

This fanmade example from Fallout 4 is effective at telling such a story:

Such scenes become more powerful when viewed through the lens of thoughtful worldbuilding. The convenience store isn’t just a random building—it represents the collapse of modern commerce and infrastructure.

Each detail serves multiple narrative purposes: the partially stocked shelves both suggest desperate scavenging and hint at which supplies were deemed most valuable, the encroaching vines mark the passage of time and nature’s reclamation of urban spaces, and the makeshift barricades tell stories of human resilience.

When these elements exist within a well-constructed world, players can extrapolate entire histories from these environmental cues, understanding not just what happened in this specific location, but how it reflects the larger collapse of society.

While environmental storytelling works hand-in-hand with worldbuilding, it serves a more immediate and localized function.

Here’s the key difference: Worldbuilding establishes the overarching lore and context for the entire game world—like the histories, religions, and politics of the universe—while environmental storytelling operates on a smaller scale, using in-game environments to reflect specific moments, events, or character experiences, as this diagram lays out:

When a player discovers a shrine hidden deep in a forest, the worldbuilding provides crucial context about the religion it represents and its place in society, while environmental storytelling reveals the more personal tale of the shrine itself — perhaps showing signs of recent worship, hints of persecution, or evidence of abandonment.

These small details gain significance precisely because they exist within the larger framework of the world’s established beliefs and conflicts. Without this contextual foundation, the shrine would be merely a curious structure; with it, it becomes a window into both historical events and individual lives.

This interplay between macro and micro storytelling creates a depth of narrative design that neither approach could achieve alone, allowing players to connect grand historical events with their human cost in ways that feel organic and profound.

For example, in Skyrim, the rich mythology and history of Tamriel—its factions, gods, and ancient wars—are part of the game’s worldbuilding. Events like the Dragon Wars or the disappearance of the Dwemer create a deep historical context, but these stories aren’t always directly told through dialogue or cutscenes.

The history reveals itself most powerfully through the environment itself. When players explore a Dwemer ruin, for instance, they encounter ancient technology, decayed structures, and abandoned artifacts:

This approach to historical storytelling transforms players from passive recipients of lore into active archaeologists within the game world.

As they discover massive steam-powered machinery alongside delicate astronomical instruments, players begin to piece together the sophisticated nature of Dwemer society—not through exposition, but through their own deductive reasoning.

The contrast between the grandeur of their engineering achievements and their mysterious absence creates a compelling narrative tension that drives player curiosity, especially since their advanced structures and technology feel jarringly out of place in Skyrim’s medieval world.

There’s very little direct storytelling going on, but the player is filled with questions:

• Where have the builders gone?
• What’s all of this for?
• Why are these marvels of engineering hidden away in remote ruins while the surface world seems centuries behind?

The contrast between Dwemer technological mastery and the relatively primitive state of the current world does more to establish their mysterious nature than any amount of expository dialogue could achieve.

These environmental elements subtly tell the story of a lost civilization, allowing players to understand the Dwemer’s fall by observing the ruin’s layout, state of decay, and leftover objects—including this mysterious puzzle cube:

In contrast, when you enter a ruin and find skeletons seated around a table with untouched meals, this is environmental storytelling at a more intimate level. The setting suggests that something catastrophic happened suddenly, freezing the scene in time.

Master environmental artists understand that it’s this careful balance between epic historical narratives and intimate, human-scale vignettes that creates the most memorable and emotionally resonant spaces.

Environmental storytelling vs. level design: Another misconception is that environmental storytelling is the same as level design. While environmental storytelling is a technique used within level design, the two are not identical.

Level design is concerned with the overall layout, mechanics, and game flow of a level, while environmental storytelling is about using that space to communicate narrative information.

For instance, BioShock’s level design helpfully guides players through combat encounters and puzzle-solving, but the ruined art deco halls, scattered personal belongings, and messages scrawled on the walls all catalogue Rapture’s fall through environmental storytelling:

This layered approach creates a compelling duality: spaces that are both functionally engaging and narratively rich.

While the wide corridors and strategic chokepoints of Rapture serve clear gameplay purposes, they also showcase the city’s original grandeur. A blocked passage might force players to find an alternate route, but whether it’s blocked by elegant art deco debris or a hastily constructed barricade reveals something about that area.

The most masterful environmental design ensures that every element pulls double duty, simultaneously serving both gameplay necessity and narrative purpose, making the space feel both purposeful and authentic.

What are the different types of environmental storytelling?

Environmental storytelling in game development manifests through various techniques that convey narrative using the game environment. These range from static elements, like objects hinting at past events, to dynamic changes triggered by player interaction.

Interactive environmental triggers actively respond to player presence, enhancing immersion. Doors that creak open or symbols revealed under specific lighting foster moments of discovery, drawing players into the unfolding story.

For example, Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice has an in-game photo mode which guides you forward using symbols and markers that react to your “focus” ability:

Player-driven discovery deepens immersion, prompting players to uncover hidden stories through exploration.

Searching through broken heirlooms, deserted shelters and abandoned relics helps players piece together a world’s past, creating emotional resonance as they co-author the story while playing through it.

Environmental storytelling can generally be categorized into the following 5 storytelling types:

1. Embedded environmental storytelling

Embedded environmental storytelling refers to the pre-existing narrative details that have been deliberately placed in the environment by the developers.

These intimate details are often static and unchanging, woven into the fabric of the game world to convey background stories without requiring direct interaction. Think of it as crafting a silent conversation between the environment and the player.

Unlike dynamic or interactive storytelling methods, embedded environmental storytelling requires meticulous pre-planning and an almost architectural understanding of how players naturally process and move through spaces.

Success in this domain requires developers to think like both storytellers and behavioral psychologists, understanding not just what story they want to tell, but how players instinctively engage with and interpret their surroundings.

The art of embedded storytelling demands a delicate balance between intention and subtlety. Too heavy-handed, and the illusion of organic discovery shatters; too subtle, and crucial narrative elements might go unnoticed.

Through visual clues—such as the arrangement of objects, weathering on buildings, or the placement of debris—developers communicate moments from the world’s history or suggest events that occurred before the player arrived:

Embedded storytelling also relies heavily on effective spatial design to guide players’ focus. Developers strategically place visual elements in locations where they’re likely to be discovered naturally during exploration.

The mastery of environmental storytelling lies not just in creating individual narrative moments, but in weaving them into a coherent visual language that players intuitively understand.

Consider how a fallen beam blocking a doorway does more than simply restrict movement—it can suggest a violent event, hint at the passage of time, or indicate the deterioration of authority and order.

When crafting these visual narratives, developers must think in terms of both immediate impact and broader context, understanding how each weathered wall or scattered possession contributes to the larger story being told.

A violent conflict leaves different marks than gradual abandonment—broken glass might radiate outward from an explosion, while water damage creates distinctive patterns as it seeps through walls over time, among other patterns of decay:

These subtle distinctions in environmental degradation become powerful storytelling tools, allowing observant players to piece together not just what happened, but when and how events unfolded. (The key is to layer these details in a way that maintains believability within the game world’s established rules.)

Masters of environmental storytelling also understand that the player’s journey through a space is as crucial as the narrative elements themselves.

Consider how natural architectural features can create a visual hierarchy that subtly directs attention—a shaft of light streaming through a broken window might illuminate a crucial piece of evidence, while the curve of a partially collapsed wall could guide players toward a story-rich area.

This guidance should feel inevitable yet unforced, as if the player’s curiosity naturally aligns with the environment’s design.

When executed skillfully, players will feel they’ve discovered these narrative moments on their own, even as they follow the invisible pathways you’ve laid out for them.

Another key aspect of embedded storytelling is using environmental context to evoke specific emotions or convey character history. Elements such as graffiti on a crumbling wall, children’s toys left in an abandoned playground, or a half-finished meal on a dusty table can create emotional connections to unseen characters.

It’s hard to forget the first time you find one of the hidden graffiti rooms in Portal:

Consider how the juxtaposition of personal artifacts against environmental decay can create particularly poignant narratives.

A cherished family photograph still hanging perfectly straight on a crumbling wall speaks volumes about those who once lived there—perhaps they fled suddenly, or maybe someone returns periodically to maintain this small reminder of happier times.

When designing these moments, think carefully about human behavior during crisis or abandonment:

What would people prioritize?

What would they leave behind?

These choices should feel authentic to your world’s history while inviting players to form their own theories. Unlike more explicit forms of storytelling, embedded storytelling leaves room for interpretation, encouraging players to make inferences and fill in gaps using their imagination.

Example: The Return of the Obra Dinn is a unique take on the “everyone is dead—figure out what happened” mystery. It uses lower-fidelity visuals and relatively static animation to encourage the forensic investigation of its environments:

The power of static environmental storytelling lies in its permanence—these unchanging elements act as anchors for the narrative, reliable witnesses to past events that players can revisit and reinterpret as they gain new context.

The environment becomes a silent narrator, communicating with players through carefully crafted, immovable details that enhance immersion and enrich the narrative experience.

This approach requires designers to think deeply about the natural accumulation of environmental evidence—how time, events, and human activity leave their marks on a space (including anything from the arrangement of objects to wear and tear on buildings).

When players encounter a room frozen in time, they become active interpreters of the scene rather than passive recipients of information.

The best environmental storytellers understand this psychological dynamic, carefully balancing obvious clues with subtle details that reward more thorough investigation.

They also understand how to layer narrative information within a space. For instance, structural damage might suggest a violent event, while the personal items scattered in its wake reveal the human cost of that violence.

Environmental elements become most powerful when orchestrated to build upon each other, transforming simple observations into compelling narratives and creating a web of evidence that players can piece together naturally.

Example: In this scene from The Last of Us, abandoned homes and scattered belongings tell stories about the people who lived there before the outbreak, giving players a glimpse into their lives without any direct exposition:

The blood trail leading to a locked door becomes more meaningful when paired with desperate messages scrawled nearby, while family photos and damaged furniture can tell stories of both personal tragedy and larger societal collapse.

2. Emergent environmental storytelling

Emergent environmental storytelling arises dynamically from the player’s actions and the way game systems interact with one another.

This dynamic quality separates emergent storytelling from more traditional environmental narrative techniques. Emergent storytelling is about crafting possibility spaces rather than specific narratives.

These stories are not pre-written or directed by developers but arise from the player’s unique engagement with dynamic elements such as the video game physics, AI, and procedural mechanics.

While embedded storytelling might place a fallen soldier beside their weapon to tell a specific story, emergent gameplay systems might allow players to witness—or cause—that soldier’s fall themselves, creating a more immediate and personally resonant narrative moment.

The key is finding the right balance of predictability and chaos. Each component—from the way fire spreads through an environment to how NPCs react to player actions—must be reliable enough to feel intentional while maintaining enough variability to create surprising and meaningful moments.

This storytelling method also emphasizes player agency, transforming every playthrough into a unique narrative laboratory where the same game systems can generate wildly different stories based on your choices.

It’s a familiar scenario for anyone who’s made more than one character in The Sims 4—this simulated argument probably didn’t come as a surprise to the player:

The brilliance of well-designed emergent systems is how they create a vocabulary of interactions that players can combine in unexpected ways. Each mechanic becomes like a word in a language, and players learn to string these together into their own environmental narratives.

When a player discovers that they can combine wind physics with fire propagation to create a tactical advantage, they’re not just solving a puzzle—they’re writing their own micro-story of ingenuity and adaptation.

These moments feel earned because they emerge from the player’s understanding and creative use of the game’s systems rather than from following a predetermined path.

Example: In The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, players can create their own stories by interacting with the physics-driven world, like using fire to create an updraft, climbing onto it with a paraglider (pictured below), and ambushing enemies from above—Link’s story emerges from the mechanics of the environment itself:

Minecraft takes this even further, allowing players to create their own stories by directly shaping the environment—like building a shelter on a mountainside, then fortifying it after a creeper attack leaves it in ruins.

The narrative emerges as players interact with their unique Minecraft world, turning natural landscapes into personalized stories of survival and creation:

The initial decision to build in a specific location might be driven by practical concerns or aesthetic preferences, but it’s the unexpected interactions—like a creeper’s destructive intrusion—that transform a simple building project into a story of adaptation and resilience.

Each player’s response to these challenges writes a unique narrative into the landscape itself, marking it with hastily built barricades, emergency escape tunnels, or triumphant minecart railways leading back to safety.

3. Environmental storytelling through spatial design

Spatial design communicates elements of the narrative through the layout, structure, and flow of the game’s spaces and architecture.

The way an environment is arranged—whether it’s an open, inviting area or a claustrophobic, winding maze—evokes specific feelings and provides insight into the story.

A grand hall with towering ceilings might suggest former glory and power, while a collapsed bridge or a blocked path can indicate the passage of time and decay. Whether the player’s journey involves being funneled down linear paths or left to explore open environments is all part of the story being told.

Example: In Dark Souls, the spatial design of the game world is integral to its storytelling. The interconnected areas are meticulously crafted to evoke a sense of scale, history, and decay, each location revealing part of the overarching narrative through its structure and layout.

A prime example is Anor Londo (in both Dark Souls and Dark Souls 3):

Once a majestic capital of the gods, it’s now an eerie, decaying shell of its former glory. The towering spires, grand hallways, and massive, empty spaces all reflect a kingdom that was once proud and powerful but has long since fallen into ruin.

The vast scale of Anor Londo contrasts sharply with the player’s small, vulnerable form, emphasizing both the lost grandeur of the kingdom and the player’s insignificance in this crumbling world.

Each spatial reveal is choreographed for maximum impact.

Players might spend long minutes traversing claustrophobic corridors, their view constrained and immediate, only to emerge suddenly into chambers of such vast scale that they feel almost vertigo-inducing.

The verticality of the city, with its long climbs and dizzying drops, mirrors the slow descent of its power, and its desolate spatial design instill the player with both awe and dread as they traverse massive spaces where the gods once walked.

This careful architectural manipulation allows players to feel the weight of Lordran’s tragic history without needing any explicit explanation, making the environment itself a key part of the narrative.

4. Interactive environmental storytelling

This type of storytelling occurs when players can interact with objects in the environment to uncover deeper narrative layers. This can include reading notes, examining items, or piecing together clues that provide context for the world and its inhabitants.

Unlike passive storytelling where information is presented directly, this approach requires players to explore, investigate, and connect the dots on their own, transforming them into narrative detectives pursuing clues to a larger mystery.

The art lies in creating a web of interconnected details that reward careful observation—a photograph might provide context for a letter, which in turn explains the significance of a seemingly ordinary object.

Example: Pages of the Red Diary from Silent Hill 4: The Room are slipped under the door to the player by a mysterious figure who was once in a similar predicament:

The notes are significant immediately but grow and develop in importance as the player discovers more details.

Master designers understand that the power of interactive storytelling comes not just from the individual pieces of information, but from the moments of realization when players connect previously disparate elements into a coherent narrative thread.

By picking up and examining objects, such as journals, photos, or artifacts, players are able to dive deeper into the backstory of characters or events.

The physical act of interaction itself becomes part of the storytelling. Consider how finding a child’s toy in an abandoned home hits differently when players can pick it up, examine its worn surfaces, or trigger a subtle animation or sound that hints at its significance in the larger narrative.

This hands-on method of storytelling feels more personal and rewarding, as players uncover pieces of the narrative at their own pace, creating a unique and dynamic experience based on their level of exploration.

Example: In Gone Home, players explore an empty house, examining letters, photos, and other personal objects to slowly uncover the story of the protagonist’s family:

The brilliance of Gone Home’s interactive storytelling lies in how it mirrors the natural way we investigate unfamiliar spaces.

Just as we might learn about a person by examining their desk or bookshelf, players gradually build an understanding of each family member through the items they’ve left behind.

Every opened drawer or quickly scrawled note feels like an authentic, organic discovery rather than a planned revelation. The game trusts players’ natural curiosity, allowing them to piece together not just what happened, but also the emotional weight of events through their own process of investigation.

The simple act of finding a crumpled note in a wastepaper basket carries more narrative impact than a cutscene because the player’s active role in discovering it makes the moment feel earned rather than delivered.

As players begin to piece together the larger story about the protagonist’s sister and the family’s struggles and tensions, the empty house itself becomes a character, with every object reflecting the family’s history, emotional moments, and unresolved conflicts.

5. Environmental storytelling through atmosphere

This type focuses on how elements like lighting, sound, and music contribute to the narrative. The atmosphere of an environment can tell a story by evoking a certain mood or tone that aligns with the narrative context.

Atmosphere-driven environmental storytelling leverages visual and auditory cues to create an emotional landscape that complements the game’s themes.

Lighting, for instance, can evoke feelings of safety or danger—warm, soft lighting might create a sense of comfort, while harsh, flickering lights can induce tension or fear. Similarly, ambient soundscapes, such as distant echoes, howling winds, or faint whispers, can suggest isolation or foreboding without a single line of dialogue.

Weather effects, like relentless rain or sudden storms, can reflect turmoil or impending danger. By carefully controlling these atmospheric elements, developers create environments that not only immerse players in the world but also subtly communicate aspects of the narrative, hinting at hidden stories or emotional undercurrents.

By manipulating ambient sound, weather effects, or lighting, developers can create environments that make the player feel a certain way, hinting at underlying stories or themes.

Example: In Silent Hill 2, the foggy, oppressive atmosphere and eerie sound design contribute significantly to the psychological horror of the story:

The dense fog obscures the player’s vision, creating a sense of disorientation and helplessness, while the unsettling ambient noises—such as distant, distorted sounds or the scrape of metal—amplify the feeling of dread.

This oppressive atmosphere mirrors the protagonist’s own confusion and emotional turmoil, making players feel uneasy and lost as they navigate the decaying, nightmarish town.

The claustrophobic and isolating environment is a direct reflection of the protagonist’s fractured mental state, pulling the player deeper into the unsettling psychological narrative without needing overt exposition.

What does effective environmental storytelling look like?

The most engaging environmental storytelling in games creates immersive, emotional, and intuitive narratives that players can engage with naturally as they explore the world.

When done well, environmental storytelling seamlessly integrates with the game’s world, making every object, location, and detail feel purposeful.

This approach empowers players to feel like they’re co-authoring the story as they discover and interpret story elements by actively engaging with them. (It can also be used to complement traditional narrative tools, like dialogue and cutscenes.)

Every detail, from a cracked photograph to a derelict street, adds to the narrative tapestry, encouraging players to dig deeper and enhancing their immersion as they connect the dots on their own terms.

Effective environmental storytelling also invites players to engage with the narrative at their own pace, uncovering hidden layers of meaning and context that might not be immediately obvious. It transforms the game world into a living story, rich with history and emotional depth.

Example: Half Life: Episode 2 doesn’t directly tell you much about the Combine or what they’re doing on Earth, but the environment lets you form your own picture of the dark, exploitative business of the game’s antagonist, ultimately leading to this scene of two lovers dying together:

Regardless of your game’s plot, it should adhere to the 7 key components of effective environmental storytelling:

1. Subtlety and implied narratives

Implied environmental storytelling doesn’t explicitly tell you what happened; it lets you imagine the events that led to the scene.

The best examples are often subtle, relying on small details that players might stumble upon or piece together as they explore.

These environmental hints make players feel like they’re uncovering secrets or gaining deeper insight into the game world through their own actions.

Example: In The Last of Us, a player might find a skeleton slumped against a wall, a photo of a family nearby, and a half-written note hinting at the final moments of the person’s life.

By allowing players to draw their own conclusions, this approach encourages more engaged and thoughtful exploration, making each discovery a meaningful piece of the larger story.

Implied storytelling also fosters a deep emotional connection, as players fill in the gaps with their own imagination.

Whether it’s a blood-stained piece of clothing, a broken toy, or the remains of a makeshift camp, each subtle detail adds to the world’s history, allowing players to uncover the human stories behind each setting they explore.

2. Emotional resonance

Effective environmental storytelling has emotional weight, making players feel connected to the space they’re exploring.

Whether it’s joy, sorrow, fear, or nostalgia, environments that evoke strong emotions deepen the player’s engagement with the story.

This emotional impact is created by carefully blending visual design, atmosphere, and subtle cues that stir the player’s feelings.

Emotional resonance can also be heightened through the absence of certain elements—silence, emptiness, or an unsettling stillness.

A dilapidated home with children’s toys scattered across the floor or a long-abandoned battlefield can evoke a sense of loss or tragedy without needing any direct exposition. The way these environments feel becomes just as important as the way they look.

These carefully crafted spaces make players feel as though they’re stepping into a living world, inviting them to not just observe the story but emotionally connect to its world and history.

This tranaforms the environment from a backdrop into an integral part of the narrative experience.

Example: In Red Dead Redemption 2, we see an abandoned cabin, weathered and overgrown by nature. This once-inhabited space now sits in decay, with small details—like the scattered objects and the forgotten chair—suggesting that its former inhabitants left in haste, their lives abruptly interrupted:

The quiet stillness of these haunting scenes contrasts sharply with the vast, untamed wilderness, creating a deep emotional resonance that draws the player into the game’s themes of impermanence, survival, and the costs of frontier life—without any dialogue or exposition.

The power of these small theaters of tragedy comes not just from what they show, but from what they suggest just beyond the edge of knowledge:

• A half-eaten meal suggests urgency, but was it fear, duty, or something else that pulled someone away?
• A child’s toy lying broken might speak to a moment of violence, or perhaps just the everyday wear of a well-loved object.
• Were heavier objects knocked over in a survival struggle, or did an unrelated storm do so years later?

This narrative ambiguity is intentional—master environmental artists understand that allowing players to fill these gaps with their own imagination creates a more personally resonant experience, where players become both detective and storyteller.

3. Consistency and cohesion

A well-told environmental story is always consistent within its world and lore.

Every element should feel intentional and align with the game’s established history, themes, and atmosphere. The objects, architecture, and environmental clues must fit naturally into the game’s narrative context.

This means that even the smallest details—whether it’s a broken-down machine, a faded painting, or discarded letters—have to make sense within the game’s world and should enhance the player’s understanding of it.

This commitment to consistency requires environmental artists to develop a historical logic for their worlds. For instance, when designing a broken-down machine, it’s not enough to simply make it look aged—we should ask ourselves,

• Has it weathered naturally over time, been damaged in conflict, or failed due to poor maintenance?
• What can we learn from its patterns of rust?
• Are there any repair tools available, and how would they work with this world’s current technological level?

Master designers create internal rule sets for how different materials age, how various cultures leave their mark on spaces, and how the passage of time manifests in their specific universe.

Inconsistent or out-of-place elements can break immersion and pull the player out of the experience, while cohesive environmental design makes the world feel more authentic and deepens their connection to the narrative.

Everything, from the smallest detail to the largest structure, should reinforce the overarching story and the atmosphere of the game.

Example: In BioShock, every part of the underwater city of Rapture—from the art deco design to the crumbling infrastructure—supports the overarching narrative of a utopian society gone wrong.

Even this graffiti demonstrates careful attention to consistency—the desperate message “FIRED” scrawled repeatedly suggests not just individual madness, but the collective ideological obsession with freedom that led to Rapture’s downfall:

This scene exemplifies how every environmental detail, from architectural style to evidence of violence, can work in harmony to reinforce both the immediate narrative of collapse and the deeper thematic exploration of failed ideologies.

4. Player-driven discovery

Environmental storytelling is often non-linear, allowing players to discover narrative elements at their own pace.

This player-driven approach to storytelling creates a sense of ownership over the narrative, as each discovery feels like an accomplishment driven by the player’s curiosity and intuition.

Whether it’s finding a hidden journal tucked away in an abandoned corner or deciphering the meaning behind the placement of specific objects, the story emerges as a result of player initiative.

The more they explore, the more pieces of the puzzle they find. The element of discovery makes environmental storytelling feel more interactive and personal, as players actively uncover the story rather than simply following a prescribed path.

Example: In Gone Home, players piece together the narrative of the protagonist’s family by exploring an empty house, finding letters, notes, and personal belongings that reveal new layers to the plot.

This collection of every interactable item in the game inadvertently demonstrates the sheer depth of Gone Home’s environmental storytelling:

In the actual game, these objects are all thoughtfully distributed throughout the house to create all the natural moments of discovery that make the game’s storytelling so powerful.

5. Layered meaning and depth

Environments that tell strong stories often have layers of meaning that encourage players to think critically or revisit areas to understand the full context.

The beauty of environmental storytelling lies in its ability to present a narrative on multiple levels—there’s the immediate, surface-level story, and then a deeper, more intricate narrative waiting to be uncovered.

This layered approach to environmental storytelling allows designers to reward curiosity and attention to detail.

Embedding multiple narrative levels in a single environment allows players who explore thoroughly or revisit earlier areas to deepen their understanding of the game, making it feel like a living, breathing world full of secrets to discover.

Example: The Witcher 3 uses its environments to represent a land that’s recently seen marching armies, conflict and slaughter. The trampled ground, flapping standards, discarded weapons, and rotting corpses tell us as much as the dialogue and exposition scenes:

However, beneath this obvious layer are subtler hints—small, easily missed details like the placement of relics, hidden writings, or the condition of certain objects—that add depth and complexity.

They might reveal the motivations of key characters, or the cultural history of the world, or even foreshadow future events—but they require players to dig deeper, often interpreting environmental clues in conjunction with gameplay or lore items.

This duality between surface and deeper meanings invites players to look beyond what’s immediately visible, fostering curiosity and making players feel like they’re uncovering secrets through their own hard work.

It also enhances replayability, as a second or third playthrough might reveal previously overlooked narrative details, allowing players to see the overall story from a new perspective.

These layers of storytelling often reflect the real-world process of uncovering lost chapters of history or piecing together fragmented memories.

Example: At first glance, the ruins of Lordran in Dark Souls simply reflect a world in decay, filled with eerie silence and desolation. The crumbling architecture and abandoned landscapes suggest the inevitable decline of a once-great kingdom:

However, for those who take the time to explore and find each piece of the puzzle, there’s a wealth of hidden lore to uncover: the war against the dragons, Gwyn’s self-sacrifice to link the First Flame, and the slow rot of his once-glorious empire.

Even the enemy design and strategic placement, like the Silver Knights still guarding a hollowed-out Anor Londo, speaks to the continuing loyalty of Gwyn’s forces in his absence.

YouTuber AesirAesthetics does a deep dive into Gwyn’s lore in the following video:

6. Integration with gameplay

Effective environmental storytelling isn’t just visual—it’s often integrated into the gameplay, encouraging players to actively engage with the world.

When narrative elements are tied to gameplay mechanics, interactions become purposeful, allowing players to uncover story details through exploration and problem-solving.

Whether it’s manipulating objects, solving puzzles, or navigating hazards, these actions feel like natural extensions of the narrative, making the environment a key part of the storytelling.

Example: In Portal 2, the environment is effectively the story device and key gameplay mechanic, as seen here in one of its many puzzle segments:

As you discover clues and overcome environmental challenges, each step reveals more about the game world, creating a sense of immersion as your actions directly impact both the story progression and game progression.

This approach transforms the gameplay itself into a storytelling tool. Finding clues to solve a puzzle, using environmental cues as guidance, or traversing challenging environmental barriers all contribute to a deeper understanding of the narrative.

Similarly, Inside’s minimalistic environments subtly guide the player through environmental puzzles while conveying this bleak, dystopian world:

The oppressive industrial landscape presents environmental hazards—like security drones, submerged areas, and dangerous machinery—that force the player to think critically about their surroundings.

Each puzzle feels like a natural part of the environment, rather than a separate challenge, making the player’s interactions with the world feel purposeful.

The game’s lack of direct exposition allows the environmental storytelling to shine, as players must interpret visual and mechanical cues to not only progress but also understand the haunting narrative.

7. Attention to detail

One of the hallmarks of great environmental storytelling is the small, thoughtful details that add richness to the world, making it feel lived-in and real.

Attention to detail allows players to connect with the world on a deeper, more emotional level. It elevates the environment beyond a mere backdrop to become a character in its own right.

Seemingly minor elements—a chipped tea cup left on a windowsill, a bookshelf slightly askew, or the subtle wear on a character’s clothing—contribute to the game’s setting and history beyond the main narrative.

The placement of objects and textures can offer insights into the game’s narrative, rewarding players who take the time to notice these intricacies with a more intimate understanding of the world and its inhabitants.

Example: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt’s attention to small environmental details makes its world feel authentic and lived-in. Look at these worn-out pathways on the ground, the mix of leafy and leafless trees, and each little piece of the roof right next to the camera:

You’ll see homes that have been hastily abandoned, with doors left ajar, family heirlooms scattered on the floor, and personal belongings untouched, telling the silent tale of villagers fleeing in fear.

Even the NPC homes are designed with precision—chairs are left at angles as if the inhabitants had just stood up, clothes are hung to dry in the wind, and hearths are still glowing, creating a sense that life continues in these spaces even when the player isn’t looking.

These layers of environmental detail help reinforce the harsh realities of a world constantly at war, making every part of the environment, no matter how small, feel intentional and contributing to the rich, immersive storytelling experience that The Witcher 3 is known for.

How to tell an incredibly engaging environmental story

Designing for engaging and effective environmental storytelling requires careful planning and attention to detail.

The key to successful environmental storytelling lies in creating spaces that feel purposeful and lived-in. Every detail, from the placement of objects to the architecture, should serve a narrative function.

The goal is to allow players to uncover layers of story through exploration, so it’s crucial to design environments that not only look visually compelling but also provoke curiosity and invite investigation.

Whether it’s a war-torn battlefield with remnants of a forgotten conflict or a cozy village with signs of daily life, every inch of the environment should help build the larger narrative while giving players room to interpret the details on their own.

Here are 7 key steps and principles to help you master the art of environmental storytelling:

1. Fully understand the world and the story

Before designing environmental storytelling elements, you need to have a clear understanding of the world you’re building and the story you want to tell.

This includes knowing the history, culture, and characters that inhabit each space.

Without this foundational understanding, environmental storytelling can feel disconnected or shallow. The story should naturally flow from the world itself, meaning every building, object, and landscape needs to reflect the culture, history, and conflicts that define your game’s universe.

A prosperous city might feature clean, well-maintained streets with flourishing markets, while a war-torn village may have crumbling structures, hastily built defenses, and personal belongings abandoned mid-flight:

Example: Although it suffered from issues on launch, We Happy Few features environments that shift from colorful and merry to dismal and war-torn, depending on whether the player chooses to interact with its soma-like “joy” mechanic:

The world should tell its story passively, so the more thoroughly you know its past and present, the more effectively you can build environments that communicate narrative details through subtle visual cues.

This depth not only grounds players in the space but also makes their exploration feel meaningful as they uncover the layers of history hidden in the environment.

Every environment in the game should feel like it belongs to that world and should support the overall narrative. You need to ask questions such as:

• What’s the emotional tone of this area?
• What happened here before the player arrived?
• How do I want players to feel while exploring this space?

Tip: Create a lore document or world bible to keep track of the history and context for each environment. This will ensure that your storytelling through the environment is consistent and coherent across different locations.

2. Design the space to tell the story

Use the layout and design of the environment to reflect and enhance the narrative. This involves placing objects, props, and architecture in ways that tell the story visually.

Narrow, claustrophobic corridors might evoke a sense of danger or tension, while open, expansive areas can convey freedom or desolation.

The use of pathways, obstacles, and sightlines can subtly direct players toward key story elements, such as a well-lit area drawing attention to an important object or a hidden path leading to a narrative reveal.

The way spaces are organized also tells a story—an orderly, symmetrical design could suggest control and precision, while chaotic, fragmented spaces might hint at a world in disarray.

By carefully crafting the layout, designers can ensure that the environment itself shapes the player’s journey and helps convey the underlying narrative themes.

The spatial design should guide the player naturally through the environment and reveal narrative clues as they explore. Think about how the physical arrangement of the space communicates what has happened or what is happening.

Example: In The Last of Us, dilapidated buildings, overgrown vegetation, and scattered personal belongings are carefully placed to tell the story of a world that has been ravaged by a pandemic, with lives left behind in an instant:

Key techniques:

• Set dressing: Carefully place objects in the environment that reflect past events (e.g., an overturned chair, a broken sword, or an old photograph).
• Spatial storytelling: Use architecture and level design to subtly guide players toward important narrative elements, without needing explicit signposting.

3. Use lighting and atmosphere

Lighting is one of the most effective tools for environmental storytelling. The way a space is lit can set the tone for a scene, evoke specific emotions, and direct player attention to important elements.

The strategic use of lighting can subtly guide players through a narrative without them even realizing it. Bright, natural light can signal hope or a space that feels inhabited, while shadows and dim corners can create tension or mystery.

Lighting can also draw attention to key narrative elements—like a single beam of light illuminating a forgotten artifact, suggesting its importance within the story.

When combined with atmospheric effects like fog, rain, or the subtle hum of environmental sounds, lighting helps create a visceral connection between the player and the environment, enriching the narrative with emotional and psychological depth.

Tip: Use warm lighting to suggest safety or nostalgia, while harsh, dim, or flickering lights can suggest danger, abandonment, or fear. Pair this with environmental sounds (like distant creaking or wind) to amplify the emotional impact.

In Silent Hill 2, the persistent, dense fog and eerie lighting create a sense of isolation and dread, mirroring the protagonist’s confusion and internal turmoil.

To see just how much the fog contributes to that game, check out this YouTube video of Silent Hill 2 with all the fog modded out—it’s transformative:

The diffused, washed-out lighting—often from unnatural sources, like dim street lamps—contributes to the oppressive mood, where nothing feels safe or familiar, and even the smallest hint of movement becomes unnerving.

These atmospheric choices aren’t just for mood; they directly support the game’s narrative of a protagonist trapped within his own mind, haunted by his past, and unsure of what’s real.

4. Embed details for players to interactively discover

Encourage exploration by embedding small narrative details throughout the environment that players can discover on their own. These can include hidden objects, notes, graffiti, or environmental clues that enrich the story.

When players uncover a seemingly inconsequential item—a scribbled note left in a drawer or a photograph pinned to a wall—it feels like they’re unraveling a secret that wasn’t meant to be found, adding layers of immersion and depth to the story.

Each item or hidden clue should contribute to the worldbuilding, character development, or underlying narrative themes, giving players a richer understanding of the game’s story as a reward for their curiosity.

Tip: Make sure these narrative details are optional, so they don’t overwhelm players who prefer a more direct approach, but enrich the experience for those who love to check every last corner.

This provides players with the agency to engage with the story on their terms while rewarding those who take the time to explore the environment more deeply.

Example: In Gone Home, players can find handwritten notes, diaries, and personal letters that reveal intimate details about the protagonist’s family, creating a layered narrative that the player uncovers at their own pace:

Instead of merely observing the environment, players can become part of the narrative as they investigate and interact with their surroundings, transforming the environment into a dynamic storytelling tool.

Tip: Use interactivity to create moments of discovery. For example, a locked door might require players to explore an area to find a key or code, with clues scattered around that slowly reveal the backstory of why the door was locked in the first place.

The Witness is another excellent game that lets players explore an open world filled with puzzles that are integrated into the environment. Solving these puzzles reveals more about the world’s story and its underlying philosophical themes.

In this video essay, YouTuber Joseph Anderson details what makes The Witness stand out from other puzzle titles:

5. Integrate environmental storytelling with gameplay

Environmental storytelling works best when it’s integrated seamlessly with gameplay. Rather than just being background decoration, the environment should be part of the player’s decision-making and experience. For instance, clues in the environment could help players solve puzzles, overcome obstacles, or understand the world’s mechanics.

In Half-Life 2, the decaying city environments are not only visually telling the story of an oppressed society under an alien regime but also directly influence the gameplay, as players use the environment to fight enemies and navigate obstacles.

Tip: Avoid separating narrative elements from gameplay. Let the environment communicate important information related to gameplay, such as through visual cues that hint at danger, opportunities, or hidden areas.

6. Test for player engagement

After designing your environmental storytelling masterpiece, don’t forget to playtest it!

Make sure that players are able to pick up on the narrative clues you’ve embedded in the environment. Observing them as they explore your world will give you invaluable insights into how well your environmental storytelling is working.

Pay close attention to where players focus their attention and what details they gravitate toward. Are they naturally drawn to important story elements, or are they bypassing them entirely?

Player feedback can also help you identify if certain areas feel disconnected from the story or if key moments aren’t having the intended emotional impact.

Watch how players explore the space and whether they notice the story details you’ve designed. This feedback will help you refine the balance between subtlety and clarity in your environmental storytelling.

Tip: If players are missing key narrative elements, consider adjusting the placement of story clues or using obvious visual signals, like a series of lanterns, to direct their attention more effectively.

7. Consider designer hugs: small moments to deepen world-building

Environmental storytelling thrives on the small details—those subtle touches that make a game world feel rich, lived-in, and believable. I like to call these moments “designer hugs.”

They’re not the main narrative beats, nor are they essential to completing the game. Instead, they’re brief, heart-wrenching, or comforting interactions tucked into the world, inviting the player to pause and reflect.

What is a designer hug?

A designer hug is a micro-story or scene that serves to enrich the world narrative rather than the main plot. These moments offer players an extra layer of emotional or thematic depth, helping to build a more believable and immersive environment.

For example, Fallout 4’s environmental artists placed some quietly heartbreaking mini-moments that show survivors’ desperate last moments:

They don’t progress the primary story or provide explicit gameplay mechanics through combat design or puzzles—but they’re key to making a world feel truly alive.

Imagine walking through a dark forest in Dragon Age, a world filled with quests, magical battles, and political intrigue. But as you explore, you stumble upon something quietly heartbreaking: the remnants of a small camp where a mother has died protecting her child.

The larger corpse covers a smaller one, and when you loot the bodies, you find a blood-soaked teddy bear among the few items left behind.

Without a single line of dialogue or text, this scene tells a story of love, loss, and sacrifice—a story that may never be acknowledged by the main plot, but which makes the world itself feel more tragic, real, and layered.

It’s these small, thoughtful touches that can turn a decent game into a truly memorable one.

Why designer hugs matter

Designer hugs serve several key functions in worldbuilding and player immersion:

1. Deepening the emotional landscape: While the main plot might focus on saving the world or defeating a great evil, designer hugs provide smaller, more intimate stories. These moments humanize the world, reminding players that the universe they’re exploring isn’t just a set for the protagonist’s adventure.

2. Encouraging exploration: Players who enjoy delving into every nook and cranny of a game world love to be rewarded for their curiosity. Every time they explore an off-the-beaten-path campsite or an abandoned home, they’ll feel excited about uncovering a hidden story.

3. Building world cohesion: Even though these moments aren’t tied to the main narrative, they support the world narrative. In Dragon Age, the scene of the mother and child portrays a dangerous, war-torn land. It’s a small reminder of the stakes of this world that reinforces the overarching themes of the game.

4. Fostering player empathy: Designer hugs invite players to step outside of their power fantasies and experience something quieter and more contemplative. In an industry where players are often focused on fighting and winning, these tender moments offer a chance to reflect and feel on a deeper level.

Examples of designer hugs in games

To better understand the impact of designer hugs, let’s look at a few more examples from popular games:

The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt: In one quest, you can stumble upon a deserted village, ravaged by war. Among the ruined homes, you find a broken lute on the ground, next to a skeleton slumped against a tree. There’s no quest attached, but you can infer that this bard likely played their last song in this quiet, devastated place.

Red Dead Redemption 2: While exploring the wilderness, you might find a lone grave with a cross bearing the name of a character who isn’t part of the main story. Nearby, a rusted rifle leans against a tree, suggesting a story of a soldier who never made it home. It’s not a key narrative moment, but it adds depth to the world’s history and tragedy.

Dark Souls: This game is full of designer hugs. One iconic moment is finding the corpse of a knight who has clearly succumbed to the horrors of the world. Beside him is a flask or item that implies he fought valiantly until his last breath. There’s no grand cinematic or exposition—it’s just a quiet moment that tells a story about the world’s harshness and inevitable fate.

How to learn environmental storytelling

Learning how to design effective and engaging environmental storytelling in video games involves mastering both narrative techniques and level design principles.

A great way to start is by playing games that are celebrated for their environmental storytelling and analyzing them closely. Look at how different games use visual cues, object placement, and environmental details to tell a story without dialogue.

Pay attention to how lighting, sound, and architecture guide players through the world and reveal narrative elements. This hands-on approach will help you understand the subtle ways in which designers communicate story through space, objects, and atmosphere.

Taking notes during gameplay on what worked and what didn’t, then considering how you might apply those techniques to your own designs, is an essential part of the learning process.

Following these key steps and taking advantage of some of these helpful resources is a great place to start:

1. Study narrative design and game art principles

Understanding the fundamentals of narrative design is crucial to mastering environmental storytelling. You need to know how stories are constructed, how characters and themes are developed, and how visual and spatial design elements can support those narratives.

How to get started:

• Read about narrative theory, particularly visual storytelling and worldbuilding.
• Study art and design principles, such as color theory, composition, and lighting, which play a significant role in evoking emotions and telling stories through environments.

Recommended resources:

• Books:
  • The Art of Game Design: A Book of Lenses by Jesse Schell – Offers insights into game design fundamentals, including environmental design
  • Game Design Workshop by Tracy Fullerton – Provides practical methods for integrating storytelling with gameplay

• Videos:
  • How Level Design can Tell a Story by GMTK – Offers insights into how level design can tell a story

• Articles & blogs:
  • Game Developer articles on narrative design and environmental storytelling
  • Game Design as Narrative Architecture by Henry Jenkins – Explores how space can communicate narrative in games

2. Analyze games with strong environmental storytelling

One of the best ways to learn environmental storytelling is by playing and analyzing games that are known for doing it well. Pay close attention to how the environment conveys story details, how the design interacts with gameplay, and what emotions it evokes.

Games to study:

• The Last of Us – For its use of abandoned environments to tell personal stories about loss and survival
• Gone Home – For its emphasis on subtle storytelling through objects, notes, and personal belongings
• BioShock – For how the decaying city of Rapture communicates the downfall of a utopia through its design
• Journey – For its minimalist, yet highly emotional environmental storytelling

What to focus on:

• How objects and space communicate a narrative without words
• The relationship between the game’s story and its atmosphere (lighting, sound design, etc.)
• How player-driven exploration influences the storytelling experience

3. Practice environmental storytelling through level design

The best way to learn environmental storytelling is through hands-on practice. Start by creating small game environments where the focus is on telling a story through the space itself. You don’t need a large project—begin with simple scenes or levels that communicate a basic narrative.

Practical exercises:

• Design a single room that tells a story about its occupant (e.g., a child’s bedroom, an artist’s studio, or a war bunker). Populate it with objects and textures that hint at what happened in that space.
• Build a small game level with a clear beginning, middle, and end, using only environmental clues to guide players through the narrative.

Tools to use:

• Unity and Unreal Engine – Both engines are free to use and come with level design tools that allow for environmental storytelling.
• Blender – For creating 3D models and assets to populate your environments.
• Twine – While primarily for interactive text games, Twine can be used to prototype interactive storytelling that involves exploring spaces.

4. Take online courses and tutorials

There are several online resources specifically tailored to game design, narrative design, and environmental storytelling. These courses and tutorials will help you understand how to merge narrative with design in practical, hands-on ways.

Recommended online courses:

• Udemy and Coursera offer game design courses that include lessons on storytelling and level design.
  • Unreal Engine 5 Environment Design (Udemy) – Focuses on creating immersive environments using Unreal Engine.
  • Interactive Game Narrative (Coursera) – A course that explores narrative design and how to create interactive, environmental stories.

• Gnomon School of Visual Effects offers specialized courses in game environment design.

5. Engage with the game development community

Learning from peers and industry professionals is a great way to improve your environmental storytelling skills. Join online forums, attend game development conferences, and participate in game jams to get feedback on your work and see how others approach environmental storytelling.

Communities to join:

• GameDev.net and Reddit’s r/gamedev – Communities where you can share work, get feedback, and find tutorials.
• Discord servers for game developers, such as the Unity or Unreal Engine communities, where you can discuss level design and storytelling techniques.

Game jams:

• Participating in game jams like Global Game Jam or Ludum Dare will push you to create short, focused games that require strong narrative elements in a short amount of time. This is an excellent way to practice environmental storytelling.

6. Iterate and test

Effective environmental storytelling comes from iteration. Create, test, and revise your environments based on feedback from players or colleagues. Pay attention to whether players pick up on the narrative cues you’ve embedded in the environment and adjust accordingly. The goal is to strike a balance between subtlety and clarity.

Testing methods:

• Conduct playtests where players explore your game without guidance and observe how they interpret the environment.
• Use feedback tools like Surveymonkey or Google Forms to gather responses about how well players understood the story told through the environment.

7. Play games with developer commentary to learn environmental storytelling

One of the best ways to understand environmental storytelling in game design is by playing games that offer a Developer Commentary feature.

Introduced in games like Half-Life 2: Lost Coast, this feature allows you to explore levels with embedded audio or text commentary from the design team that explains how the levels and environments were crafted to convey the narrative.

Once enabled, commentary points appear in the environment, often marked by icons or nodes. As players explore the game world, they can interact with these points to hear about how certain objects, lighting, or spatial design were used to communicate specific narrative details.

For those learning to master environmental storytelling, this mode provides a behind-the-scenes look at how a game’s environment can be constructed to guide the player’s attention, evoke emotion, and communicate the story through non-verbal means.

By toggling commentary on and off during gameplay, you can also see how these elements work in real time, reinforcing your understanding of how narrative and design integrate within the environment.

Tip: When using developer commentary, pay special attention to how designers describe their use of space, object placement, and atmosphere to tell a story.

Examples of games to study for environmental storytelling

Looking for some inspiration? Each of these exceptional games demonstrates most or all of the principles I’ve discussed:

1. The Last of Us

Focus on: How abandoned buildings and scattered objects
(like family photos or suitcases) tell stories of loss and survival in the aftermath of civilization.

2. Dark Souls

Focus on: How architecture and decay reveal the kingdom’s
history and its collapse through environmental details and
meticulous level design.

3. Gone Home

Focus on: How personal objects, notes, and the layout of rooms
can tell an intimate family story in an empty house that players
uncover at their own pace.

4. BioShock

Focus on: How the ruined city of Rapture reflects a failed
utopia, with lighting, water damage, and architecture conveying
corruption and decay.

5. The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt

Focus on: How villages, landscapes, and small environmental
details (like burnt houses or graves) hint at past conflicts and
personal stories.

By studying theory, practicing design, and analyzing successful games, you can develop the skills necessary to tell compelling stories through game environments.

Final thoughts

Learning environmental storytelling is a mix of theoretical study, hands-on practice, and analyzing successful examples from other games. Study narrative design, practice creating environments that tell stories, and use available online resources to enhance your skills.

Through feedback and iteration, you can become proficient in designing engaging and immersive environmental storytelling for your own games.