There’s a moment in Uncharted: Golden Abyss when the game’s dashing protagonist, Nathan Drake, remarks out loud that a set of stairs has eroded away, meaning they need to find another way up to reach a certain door.
Drake says this to his partner, Marisa Chase. If you don’t know who Chase is, then that’s okay. Only the people who have ever played this, as of July 2026, still-PS Vita exclusive Uncharted prequel will know who Chase is. And even then, there’s a chance they’ve forgotten (she’s no Elena or Chloe, that’s all I’m saying). What’s important for you to know now is that Chase is an intelligent adult who is very much capable of seeing with her own two eyes that this set of stairs has eroded away and that they need to find another way up to reach the door.
So why is Drake saying this line of dialogue? If it’s not for Chase, then it must be for us: the player. But we are also humans capable of (varying) levels of deduction. We have eyes that see the PS Vita screen displaying the level design and artwork from the talented folks at Bend Studios syncing up to give us strong visual cues. Visual cues we can then use our brains, reasoning, and logic to infer that this set of stairs in front of Drake has indeed eroded away and that we will most likely need to find another way up to reach the door.
We don’t need Drake to tell us any of this. Don’t we?
There’s been a pushback in recent years against games getting too chatty. The belief goes that our video game characters just won’t shut up. They always have something to say about every situation. Pick up an item. Funny quip. Defeat an enemy. Drop a one-liner. Walk in a straight line. Monologue like you’re opening SNL. “All this dialogue is overkill,” I hear people say in Reddit posts longer than the script for The Last of Us Part II. But I’d be lying if I said I never agree with this sentiment.
Truth be told, I don’t mind video game characters conversing during moments of gameplay—so long as it fits the mood and context of that particular level or area. I can truly get swept up in the back-and-forth of two characters who are simply traversing through a location, killing time like we all would in that situation. I’m less forgiving if the character is without a companion or is currently trying to navigate a particularly tense or scary scenario. Beyond context, strong writing and voice performance are naturally key for in-game dialogue’s ability to either bolster immersion or shatter it completely. Fail to stick the landing, and things quickly become annoying. I’m looking at you, Navi.
Things get even more complicated when the character’s dialogue is specifically written to help you through a section of gameplay. Usually this is the character offering a hint towards a puzzle solution or musing about where to go next. In these instances, we see the game’s script directly influence its gameplay, as the narrative designers are using their characters to help guide the player through potentially tricky sequences.
This is an even smaller needle to thread. On the one hand, I totally understand why a lot of games do this—particularly triple-A games that are mega expensive to make. If a quality assurance tester is struggling with a puzzle or doesn’t know where to go next, it’s a lot cheaper to write and record some lines of dialogue to steer the player in the right direction than to make sweeping changes to the game’s design.
But, like, isn’t it the job of game designers to create puzzles that appear difficult on the surface, but which the player should be able to solve through intuition and acquired knowledge of the game’s systems and mechanics? In a perfect world, yes. But let’s be realistic. No two players are the same, and it would be impossible to create puzzles that cater to every single person through their design alone. Some games are happy to take a step back and allow the player’s skill and patience to be the deciding factors behind progression. Others are more concerned about accessibility and are willing to offer some help. And character dialogue is an increasingly popular way to channel this support.
While many modern games have adopted this approach, it seems to be particularly rife within Sony’s studios—especially Naughty Dog, Santa Monica Studio, and Guerrilla Games. The Norse-era God of War games and the Horizon series have generated plenty of discourse around their hint dialogue, and you could argue that Uncharted was the franchise that popularised this trend in the first place. Some players appreciate the support these games offer through the vessel of character dialogue as an alternative to looking up a guide or walkthrough, while others find it obnoxious and unnecessarily hand-holdy.
Like a true coward, I sit somewhere in the middle. The constant barrage of “helpful” advice offered in God of War: Ragnarök did start to grate on me, especially since the characters would chime in with suggestions after I had been attempting a puzzle for barely a handful of minutes. Like, chill. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it when I’m ready. And you better believe that if they add such lines into the remakes of the Greek-era God of War trilogy—a trilogy all about Kratos’ growing personal isolationism and unwillingness to help anyone but himself—I’ll be marching on the Santa Monica Pier.
But then I play a game like Uncharted: Golden Abyss and am surprisingly delighted by the way it handles its dialogue hints—at least in the example I gave above. Drake says the line about the eroded stairs and the need for a new route up, blah, blah, blah. It’s textbook instructive dialogue blatantly pointing out the obvious in a way that can feel patronising to the player.
It’s the way Chase responds to Drake’s comment that really grabbed my attention. Chase is the woman with Drake, in case you forgot. I know I did. Sorry, Marisa Chase fans1.
Chase accuses Drake of lecturing her, arguing that she can figure out the deal with the stairs herself because… of course she could. It’s all done playfully and leans into the fact that, yeah, Drake can get a bit mansplainy at times. Not in a way that I think is problematic or anything. He’s just clearly the kind of guy who gets overexcited at the prospect of adventure and the challenges therein and can’t help but voice his thoughts—even when it’s pointing out the obvious.
I like this exchange because it achieves three things simultaneously:
It makes it clear to the player what their next steps should be.
It uses humour to poke fun at its own blatantly instructive tone.
It manages to do so in a way that is authentic to the characters while developing the rapport between Drake and Chase.
That’s a rather impressive feat for what is essentially ten seconds of dialogue.
I now felt like I understood Drake and Chase’s dynamic better while learning more about how they individually perceive the world.
I was now more engrossed in this particular moment of gameplay because the cheeky banter had made me smile.
And, yes, I now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that because the stairs has eroded, I needed to find another way up to reach the door.
What are your opinions on hint dialogue in video games? Any particular games that you think handle this well or poorly? Let me know in the comments!
Stuff from the Stack
Sea of Stars is one of my favourite indie RPGs of the past few years, so I had a blast reading through Nerd Central’s take on the game. They clearly enjoyed it as much as I did—possibly even a bit more—and their argument placing the game amongst the greats of the genre is both thorough and compelling.
The Video Game Storyteller is a Substack written and formatted by Harry Fritsch on the lands of the Jagera and Turrbal people, the Traditional Custodians of Meanjin (Brisbane).
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All three of you.
I'm gonna write a whole thing responding to this from my own perspective. Great stuff!
I'm with you. If done well, I don't mind character based hint (aka thinking out loud). Nathan Drake is the one protagonist that seems like a good example because he's charismatic, intelligent and is a character that naturally likes to make quips. So of course he would think out loud even if alone which may help the player sus out some puzzle or navigation.
Alternatively, Metroid Prime 4: Beyond was an example of it done completely wrong. Having Miles come over the intercom to let Samus know where she needed to go every 5 minutes was grating and honestly insulting.
Also thanks for the nod! Much appreciated!