Procedural Generation

A lattice of random gradient arrows, four dot products, a fade curve, and a blend: smooth noise that is zero at every corner, never repeats, and follows from one seed.

One feature point per lattice cell, nine cells scanned per pixel, the nearest two distances kept: bowls around each point, ridges between them, and flat cells painted by the nearest point.

Octaves of gradient noise summed, each finer by the lacunarity and fainter by the persistence: broad hills, then ridges on the hills, then rocks on the ridges, the grain of real terrain.

Two fractal fields read as height and moisture, an island mask that drowns the edges, a sea level, and a ten-entry biome table: numbers become water, sand, grass, forest, rock, and snow.

A grid of cells, one born/survive rule, every cell deciding from its eight neighbours at once: Conway's Life with its gliders, Seeds that burns through everything, and a majority rule that smooths.

Fill a map with rock at random, run the majority rule a few passes, then flood-fill the chambers it left and keep the largest: a cave level a player can walk all of, from one seed.

A perfect maze is a spanning tree of the grid: carve one wall fewer than there are cells, never closing a loop. Three ways to pick the walls, three textures of maze.

One wall's line splits the map in two, and each half again, until every side is an empty convex region: a tree built once that gives the painter's order from any eye in a single walk, with no sorting.

Cut the map in two, and the halves in two, until the boxes are small; put a room in every leaf; then climb back up the tree joining a room of each half. Connected by construction.

Scatter rooms at random and reject the ones that overlap; join the survivors by a minimum spanning tree over their centres, keep a few loops, and carve an L corridor per link. The roguelike level.

Every cell could be any tile; observe the least-entropy cell, collapse it to one, let the collapse propagate, repeat. Local socket rules alone grow a grid where every neighbour fits.

A string rewritten by the same rules every generation, then read by a turtle that steps, turns, and branches: plants, snowflakes, and dragon curves from a one-line grammar.

Cut a lot into roof, floors, and ground; cut floors into tiles; let each tile choose window or wall. Three kinds of rule, applied breadth-first, derive a building facade from one box.