Act One: A Promising Start

It isn’t entirely surprising that Dragon Age 2 has managed to garner a cult audience, long after its divisive state in 2011. Diverging from epic/dark heroism of Origins, returning lead writer David Gaider and returning lead designer Mike Laidlaw had come together to conceive a bolder stance within the sequel. As plans went underway and more was being drafted/altered, the finalization bore a three-act sequence broken up as a novella, a rare escape of the serial TV format the studio was known for. Unfolding throughout is the delve concerning the meaning of freedom and security, a root that sprawls everywhere thick and thin, as well as enhancing the melancholic tone already bolstered thanks to Awakening prior. It seems like it was a game that happened to release just a few years before we had RPGs upholding the same appeal; with the Hero Of Ferelden’s story in Origins, you were guiding the preconceived avatar through various perils plaguing the corners of Ferelden, weighing the options of who to conscript upon the army/Wardens against the Darkspawn menace, and ultimately finalize their story at the climactic bout. Hawke, Champion Of Kirkwall, doesn’t do much of that in 2, however. They largely focus on procuring themself, his surviving sibling Bethany or Carver, and their mother a sense of nurturement within the Free Marches’ city-state of Kirkwall - for them, making “a dramatic choice” just means doing whatever they feel is necessary to provide support for their livelihood, opposition and importance be damned. Plenty of cRPGs and other gaming genres had a stab at it before, but it was a trope and idea that had waned during the late 2000s, early 2010s, with the only other title on my mind within this period being tri-Ace’s Resonance Of Fate. It’s part of what makes Kirkwall stand out not only at the time, but compared to Origins and Inquisition. For in this title, simply surviving the moment in hopes of seeing a tomorrow, is its own tale of a hero’s journey.

And the quests, oh man the quests. Laidlaw has expressed in interviews that this is likely their most reactive title at that point in time, and honestly? I can’t help but extend that to their whole catalog nowadays, at least from what I’ve played thus far. Barring the options an Origins world state can have from either the pre-selected histories or your own save files, any quest you can do here is directly affected one way or another within the next period, radically altering ways this would affect play as well as continue the theming of both the city being a character, and strengthen the belief about having to live through the actions we deem vital. Lives are changed for better or for worse, who once was here is now forever gone, and whether they treat you right or wrong is all dependent on whatever your fealty lie under. It doesn’t quite stick the landing at points, and starts to dissipate once you head further and further in, but there’s something here. There’s a beating pulse that tells us that it has its own agenda to proclaim. Sure, I was apprehensive about certain qualities I knew about from before, and I was curious as to whether these strengths would become potent enough to forgive its missteps, but for now, I’m willing to press onward. Perhaps, in due time, I could find it in me to forgive and accept - maybe even see things I had closed off before…

Act Two: Trouble Brews From Within

DA2’s wavering foundation languishes further, cracks beginning to become more visible with old ones becoming more pronounced. It’s easy to notice this with the visuals: often one of their penchants, Bioware has yet again tried to stylize both the art direction and cutscene presentation within a cinema format, as well as attempt to address the issue of genericness while doing so. Matt Goldman is back on art director duty, and with this he brings new sprinkles of Eternal Darkness, Yojimbo, Conan, Pieter Bruegel, and Akira Kurosawa among many others helps sell the atmosphere of an overburdening, dyspneic place wrought with violence, uprisings, and slave labor. Though Kirkwall itself has managed to instill that vibe, and plenty of loading screens are much more provocative than the one in Origins, I wouldn’t quite say it has escaped the rut. This, of course, is due to the most infamous aspect of the title, that being the reused maps. Origins and (especially) ME1 also had this, and while they also garnered some flack, the level wasn’t nearly as severe due to their implementation as side content. Rarely are any revisits and/or perfunct design impeding the player’s main progression state. Even if we were to talk about them within the story, I’ve dabbled into getting back on Resonance Of Fate’s swing, and that too better instills experimentation regarding enemy positions and/or gimmicks, as well as briskness the other two had from concise combat and room layout. DA2, however, doesn’t manage to implement any of that philosophy, with these repeating dungeon areas - which are even more bespoked Stock Fantasy Backgrounds! - with the only thing separating each of them is that sometimes a door is blocked off or open, and maybe you’re plopped into starting out at the opposite end then going in a different direction. The pacing with each of these visits are also excruciatingly poor, I get dragged back to the Docks, Hightown, and the Sundermounts so frequently it becomes mind-numbing. Combine that with how uncomfortably slow Hawke jogs around, and all of these being more rectangular and vertical in nature compared to the boxy, compact nature of before, and mods to both increase the movement speed and cleaning up any and all typos and misleads in the journal becomes an absolute must. Sure, the codices help to remedy the lack of a distinct world flair especially after the previous title, but that’s lore and worldbuilding (which, even then, still suffers the same problem of being tepidly generic), columns that support the narrative currently taking place, rarely serving as the focal point, and regardless it doesn’t mend the dullness pertaining to these prefab locales for each session at a time.

On note of time allocation, this is right around the time each companion’s turmoil and personality start to encroach upon you, a majority being picked up in the first act with but one or two optional pickups being available. This was the angle I was most interested in revisiting, cause I wasn’t sure if I had a FF13-level reformation of realizing my ire were because I was dumb and didn’t think about emotional contexts, or if they truly were underwhelming in their arcs and development. My conclusion to this is… a bit of both? I believe I can say that I’ve grown on most of them at least a little more at least, and my thoughts about the Friendship-Rivalry system have since deepened as well. Opinions on Varric are universally positive, which makes sense since he’s genuinely a swell guy to build rapport over. Laidback, charming, not quite interested in the goings-on but knows when it's time to cut the shit and get into action, he’s the second party member introduced and he’s far away the best one. It feels like the DA team knew that too, considering its much, much easier to garner Friendship than Rivalry across the length of the venture, which even then doesn’t entirely change the dynamic between the two of you unlike the others. Brian Bloom’s performance heightens the appeal immensely, consistently boasting the best performances in the entire package with his various inflections and line deliveries, bar none. It’s nuts to think that he was originally meant to have a far more sleazy and malcontent persona, then retrofitting into being the “dashing and helpful partner-in-crime” when that didn’t work out. The ones that I actually turned around on are Aveline and Isabela, fitting due to their contrasting ideals. Though one is far more stubborn and law-abiding and the other is too lax and self-centered, they both need a sort of grounding agent to keep them on the path, and showing kindness and meticulous support for one keeps her upright attitude in check, while showing friction and repeated platitudes onto the other starts to lighten up the selflessness buried deep within them, to the point they’ll finally come back if your influence on them is strong enough. I feel bad for not giving these two their proper dues, they’re pretty damn cool and it didn’t take long for them to slot onto my party mainstays.

This segways on the influence mechanic in question, the Friendship-Rivalry system. Due to not being a leader of a personal army amassing forces necessary to combat a physical force, the vibe of the party this time is about the unity of other people that are all on the same boat as you are, and your actions dictate whether you’re a trusted friend sided onto the same beliefs, or a belligerent rival that can be called upon to help solve issues, but nothing more. I’m of two minds regarding this. While the Influence system in Origins was largely easy to gain favors for, it still made a distinction of allowing numerous different tallies to accumulate these points over the course of the journey. Understandably, DA2 isn’t able to replicate that notion, and instead pools about the same amount of points for one side or another depending on dialog choices made during the quests, right down to limiting the amount of times you can even give one a gift to just twice overall. This, as a point, I don’t have any troubles with - what arises, however, is the extremely fickle nature they’re wrapped under, to the point metagaming is the only surefire way to succeed. Fenris is the ultimate example of this. A victim of slavery and an abusive magister, he’s extremely poignant about his feelings regarding these subjects, and proving to befriend him while having to juggle the other Mages can prove challenging… or you can just bench him, take him on quests where you can yell “SLAVERY BAD” to the opposition and/or support anyone that are less fortunate than you, and you’re able to quickly cement your status as friends. This cuts into the same problem Mass Effect has and increasingly worsens: if you try and do your best to roleplay given circumstances, you end up making haphazard progress with the relationship bar, thereby limiting the depth of your relationship with a given party member. However, as long as you know what will occur (be it from following a guide or inferring in-game), you can specifically plot who will be brought along, accrue these points for everyone you want on one side of the bar or another, and repeat this until everyone’s bars are where you want them to be. In complete fairness, I did still end up liking Fenris’ arc and presence - even to the point I’d say some of his quests are flat out the best in the game! - and I find that the situations in running against these intents aren’t quite as abundant as I make them out to be. That said, I’m still just not sure if this was the right way to go about it, doubly so on the fact that real life friendships can easily break under extreme circumstances, a gameplay swerve that is hardly ever utilized, at least in terms of potency, compared to its predecessor.

What I do find to be a certifiable negative, however, is yet again the binary status this envelops. Largely speaking, you’re either enabling their habits, or hindering them in the hopes of having them recognize their flaw(s) and proceed to grow from them. Again, this by itself would largely be whatever, in fact half of the companions here don’t even fall victim to this, but the ones that do really stick out like a sore thumb. I’m saving Anders for the Act 3 cover, and I don’t want to repeat myself on why Sebastian Vael is an utter drivel of a character, so instead I’m focusing on Merrill. She’s often derided as Thedas’ Tali’Zorah, and as much as I really wanted to believe otherwise, it’s unfortunate to say this is one of very few generalizations that ended up becoming true. She leans much harder into the Manic Pixie Dream Girl archetype than her counterpart, but her arc and central quest revolve around the same thing: fascination with ancient history integral to their race’s history, and how this hyper-obsession has wrought havoc upon their state within their community, and incited inquiries as to whether they have the right interest at heart. Thing is, however, the focus is shifted - Tali’s Loyalty mission largely centered around her father with the casualty being about the burgeoning Quarian-Geth war (which you are even able to point out the Council’s motives if enough investigation work was done), while Merrill’s the sole center due to a particular event from years ago affecting her mental state to such a degree she becomes hyperfixated on not only righting this wrong, but uncovering one of the biggest mysteries surrounding the Dalish customs - no matter where and how her desires treat and take her. This is a great flip on an idea that was released just a year prior, and the events that follow incorporate this by… making her really, really delirious and unwilling to listen to reason by everyone involved, as well as make it real obvious she’s under a manic control from a demonic entity that’s only after itself, where the choices are to either still enable her actions if you’re trying to befriend her, or point out how doing this is A Bad Idea which weirdly portrays an unnecessarily accost thrown towards her. I have no problem with characters in fiction acting irrationally under emotional distress - in fact I think this is vital ingredient if a story is supposed to keep the tension afloat, despite what seemingly many others try to say - but so much of her arc just feels trite and overbearingly hyperbolized, all because of this push to either exclusively and rampantly enable her to the point her people could become slaughtered at the end of it all, or retort so often she becomes woefully depressed and has no idea if she’ll ever find someone to take her under care and consideration. This point about an overzealous second to the Keeper endangering her community through unforeseen consequences is a fantastic one, and yet I’m just left tugging my shirt and nervously rubbing my neck from how hard it is to take at a base level. And yet that isn’t even the worst part of the narrative, that’s just a supplement to the bigger issue!

Act Three: Bioware Pulls A Bioware

I’ve been vocal about Bioware being ill-mannered when it comes to doing grand quandaries, and this one is no different. The Mage-Templar Conflict is one of the longer spanning debates within Dragon Age, and it’s all set within the foibles of the Circle’s infrastructure, as well as how the Chantry and Templars, preying and mentally harming the Mages they’re overseeing, are the potential factors as to why so many of them run amok and turn to gruesome methods. This was established in Origins, but its delivery had been ambiguous enough aside from a few codex entries and the Mage prologue, relegated to a “trust the members vs enforce the security” dilemma. It wasn’t perfect, and the baggage can be hefted to a degree, but the maintenance withholding the line between real world and fictional was doable enough to overlook the questionable aspects. DA2 ups the ante to a significant degree, consistently making its mark within the acts, party banters and dispositions, (even being the first thing you see on the title screen), cementing itself as the theme’s apex. You learn more about the Mages, their lifestyle and study habits, how they’re ostensibly a standee for a marginalized group (in this case, inferences and allegories pointing towards neurodivergence), how many take to drastic measures due to expectations and temperaments being too much too bear. The Templar’s obscene, tight grip borne amongst the forefront, their security and tolerance within these people generally becoming antagonistic in nature, with but a few genuinely caring for the others in any manner they can are also raised over the course as well. The final mission of Act 3 erupts when Anders commits a terrorist act upon the Chantry’s building, plunging everyone into a civil rebellion. In layman’s terms, pick between an allegorical group stigmatized within the world due to being “different”, or the institution overseeing and stigmatizing the Others, and side with them. Anders becoming a hardcore insurrectionist is already a contentious arc to develop, but it’s made worse since Jennifer Hepler, his new penner, admitted to positing him as one with bipolar disorder, which showcases harmful representation as he’s constantly demonized for his outbursts long before the final climax, stemmed from Justice now inhabiting his body to live in the mortal world to help his friend, becoming warped and twisted from his burning hatred of the institutions into the new form Vengeance. This isn’t even a theoretical analysis, it’s a hard read backed by the game itself a la being a recurring topic in his conversations - this postimage gallery being one instance - as well as the contents of Act 3’s codex entry making it the focal point. Some of the sources pertaining to Hepler’s decree are unfortunately down, but they were preserved via two different Tumblr users that you can find here and here, both also delving more into the topic in question.

I don’t think I need to mention how horrendous this all is, doubly so since I’m speaking as someone that’s on the spectrum. I get the need to have a moral dilemma, especially concerning what’s happening here and before in Origins, but this runs across the X-Men problem of the scenario becoming so close to real life, it’s hard to read it as fictionalized events and drama, worsened by the studio’s stupid need to Both Sides-ing it. Even if you (somehow) disagree about the real-world implication seeping within the Mage V. Templar debacle, the weight of the entire situation matters naught because all pretenses of “making and dealing with choices” are dropped, each side instead being handed woefully undeserved conclusions. In fact, it runs from the opposite directions of what entails in the main/secondary quests prior: The decision regarding the Sibling “not mattering” obfuscates the point of that turmoil about how even after gathering the mettle and funding necessary to rise to the top, your actions dictate the immense cost in the form of either their compromised freedom (forcefully conscripted with the Circle/Templar/Wardens) or be another death toll from the forces you were once trying to flee from (death from the Blight corruption); siding with the mages doesn’t matter because, at a specific point, the leader starts to partake in blood magic in the stupid hackshit of “I SHALL BECOME WHAT THEY FEAR TO SHOW THEM ALL!”, all because plot elements tied to the Mage side were cut without any time available to fix it. The death of Ketojan the Saarebas is fixed, but the intent is not - if you dare to give them a chance at life and free them from their shackle, you witness that the Qun’s mantra and philosophy has seeped so deeply into their inner core, that they would willingly die from a self-inflicted spell than break that vow entirely, culminating in one of the game’s best scenes. From this, you can spur yourself to retort against the Arishok’s fatalistic ways, never able to successfully convince him but the garnered respect evolves into being treated upon equal level shared by almost no one else in Kirkwall, all from a brute that’s more focused on themselves (yet doing nothing to appease their desires) than any ‘reasonable’ measures; siding with the Knight-Commander reveals she’s harbored a Red Lyrium idol from Varric’s brother at some point, infused it within her sword, and from this kickstarted an accelerated rush of her worries and fears clocked into overdrive, therefore becoming one of the factors as to why this all happens to begin with. You’re only barely given any sort of reason as to why she acts the way she does, she spends more time hiding away while the Grand Cleric badly and erroneously struggles to appease the two sides, and even then, siding with such a force has already deigned you as the propagator for the entrapment for the Mages. At least when Mass Effect 3 was crashing down, it stuck to one of its tertiary themes despite all of its own can of worms.

Amongst other things that had wore myself out was the combat, an overhauled and streamlined set of systems and rulesets that devolve into being so undercooked in its mechanics, thoroughly mundane in its design format, and so tediously elongated due to these two factors that, even when using every single DLC item when appropriate, I felt the call of lowering the difficulty from Normal to Casual, and almost but never truly caved in. It isn’t really hard to figure out why the shift to a more action flair happened; around this point, senior producer Fernando Melo had (rather infamously) stated that the studio was looking to bridge the gap between the progression systems trickling within in action/shooter titles such as Call Of Duty with actual-ass RPG systems and mechanics, alongside Laidlaw going over control transition and player responsiveness in an old Playstation blog, and marketing director David Silverman doing a spot for GameTrailers about how now, “when you press a button, something awesome has to happen”. Despite all of that, the end result is a sloppy, incongruent marriage of Origins’ tactful acumen and Mass Effect’s stylized and squad-centric groundwork, without any of the things that made the two work within their own fundamental boundary. The problem lies in the immense homogenization that has plagued the three classes here. The Mages were far away the most powerful class in Origins, so it makes sense they had the heaviest nerf, but this seems to have swerved too hard onto the opposite direction cause now so few of the mages you can have in this game are able to keep to their own line of spell specialities, and step on other boundaries too often with vaguely different support and attack options. Warriors were a bunch that already struggled to really present themselves differently, but this serves to drive the point home further with DPSers and Tanks now being available on both sword-and-boarders and two-wielding berserkers with such a weak appeal for either draw that you likely can just keep the one on you at all times and double up on Mages or Rogues. Speaking of, while Rogues lightly get off easy and keep their bag of trick mein or swashbuckling retorts intact, too often do skills in branches crop up to “inflict Disorient on Target”.

This is all done to incentivize cross-class combos, a technique that does massive damage as well as a bonus effect on a target, but that’s something ME2 was able to do better since the general class system Shepard and his squad generally fall under were largely more dignified in their nature, as well as the important ability of actually being able to do this yourself. Far too often are battles under the attrition warfare where you whack each other with soft sounding weapons as you trickle number values slowly because of how inflated health values have become, droningly clicking the same few abilities so often because potions of any kind have largely been downplayed to heighten this “action” approach, and by the time you have clenched victory, the game throws you Wave 2 of 4 as the illusion of challenge. It’s agonizingly tedious, as if the main goal wasn’t bridging these two aspects together, but really try and throwback to the absolute worst section of KOTOR1 by making it the sole loop of combat. This soils a majority of how these quests are handled, and nowhere is that prevalent then when night has fallen, where you participate in fending off against three different gangs depending on the district you’re traversing in. This is in every act, and these can interfere with the actual quest stuff meaning you spent more fucking time doing this shit than actively sleuthing down the dozen items/POIs you were designated to do, where you’re already doing this to begin with! So your options are to either bear it all and deal with a bunch of enemies at once, or take a detour and solve an obviously fodder line of quests just to get a move on. Because of all of this, pacing in DA2 isn’t just shot, it’s rotting in a ditch. In Origins and ME1&2, completing 10 quests in an arc would roughly take a few hours, effortlessly containing signifiers on whether you’re at the midpoint or endpoint whatever that storyline is covering. In DA2, completing about half that would take that long, and this gnawing feeling of endlessness becoming more or less pronounced depending on what exactly it is you’re doing (this is likely why I’m fond of Act 2 the most, any quests there are almost always intriguing one way or another and lead to something). The idea that Kirkwall is a living character is nullified by how this is all incorporated, and it sort of reinforces a Sick Mentality I have that “all good RPGs should be a little broken”. Even ignoring ME, their 2005 title Jade Empire trounces this in every single way, including how it presents its differing schools under mechanical implementation and design.

All of this came at a boiling point, an about face regarding someone I scoffed as being an annoyance: Hawke. From the offset, the team had created the goal of creating a protagonist with depth, confided with acknowledgement about the differences a voiced protagonist can have compared to that of a blank slate, last saw with Origins’ Grey Warden, and have decided to follow the mold of their sister series’ Commander Shepard, a being with a wholly complete backstory, and infuse the two components together. The result, however, is severely lacking. Because of the dialog wheel being the centralized mechanic of conversations, your options in presenting yourself amongst a group has limited considerably. Origins’ strength was effectively handing you several different ways to convey the same 3-4 personality quirks befitting whatever it was you had crafted that blank slate’s being with. You are as much the arbiter of the narrative and what the Hero Of Ferelden faces in their growth, as you are the face of several different backgrounds that look upon you; Hawke can only ever respond Diplomatically, Charmingly, or Aggressively with little deviations as to the how and why of the prose - said prose, by the way, having the worst of ME’s own paraphrasing problem. The amount of times your class-specific option or even your personality-specific interjection can play out are so pitiful it enlightens how bad this combination was from the start. My demur isn’t actually against the dialog wheel, because the way Mass Effect utilized it is so much more palpable it’s a wonder people at the same company keep getting it wrong. Shepard’s personality is set in stone no matter what; his is about the correspondence to the other party, achieving this in either a bridge into unity and togetherness, or abiding by dogmatic ruling and justifying the means no matter what. Broad strokes, but this ties into the implantation of roleplaying, such as a Renegade Shepard doing what they can to have Feros succeed after much tribulations, or a Paragon Shep not immediately trusting the Legion and either forking them over to Cerberus, or continuously belittling their place in the squad; with DA2 being way more binary in morals compared to those, decisions are revolved around either being Pro-Freedom or Pro-Security, and the wiggle room in deciding between the reaction from the instigator are curtailed in comparison to even Mass Effect 2. Your appeasement to factions comes down to saying The Right Thing at The Right Time, with the Right Members joined at the hips willingly to raise their Special Meter in accordance to what your pre-planning was. Hawke is NOT the blank slate meant to instill personal stories, NOR is he the concrete body that holds to his own beliefs and concerns - he is instead, a blob, that meekly shapes and morphs itself into whatever the person facing him needs to hear. Hard to grasp the influence of Planescape Torment, one of the most beloved RPGs to have graced the medium, when the 30-45 minutes I’ve played of that has the Nameless One expound so much more personality and spice than Hawke ever has in this entire package and a majority of its DLCs.

Epilogue: Contrition And Desolation

So, what the hell happened that caused the package to end up like this? Well, a lot of things. Between the company’s Golden Era and the Huskified Corpse era, there’s a middle point comprising titles that are, for lack of a better word, ‘contentious’: this, Mass Effect 3, Star Wars The Old Republic, and Dragon Age Inquisition. I believe most people have since assuaged the bitterness unto EA for how these have turned out (NOT to say they were entirely blameless, mind), and realize that the developers actually involved were somewhat-mostly causing these issues to begin with. DA2, however, is different since it was conceived as a last-ditch effort for EA to get something within the Q411 fiscal year, showing up on the planning periods before and during production, the latter two docs being available on their Quarterly Results page. Jason Schreier’s book, Blood Sweat & Pixels, has a section for the studio that mainly covers Inq.’s dev process, but there are tidbits related to DA2 that are relevant, so I’ll address that, thanks to a summary I found from another tumblr user. Essentially, SWTOR’s development had continued to trip across numerous snags and trepidations, leaving EA without anything to make up that bulk of the period. Hastily, they focused on Dragon Age to fill this void, and in a meeting had given the task of getting this done to a team planning a potential successor. The deadline? 14-16 months. Mark Darrah has also recalled details surrounding this period in a Twitter thread mid-December 2021, with environmental artist Lee Scheinbeim chiming in to say that his “understanding as someone who wasn't in any meeting rooms was the choice was either lay a bunch of people like me off or make what became DA2 in a year”. Numerous, grandeur ideas for that initial phase had to be cut down and saved for Inq. just to get it by store shelves in time, which is also why the setting of Kirkwall has a habitual love affair of reused assets, such was the case of its canned expansion Exalted March. If you wanted to know why there’s even a “2” despite bearing little, significant connections to Origins, well that too was a marketing tactic forced on by the executives - internally and in a rampant push to have it stick from the team, the original name was pinned as Exodus.

Some of you familiar with Bioware have likely went “Wait, wasn’t DA2 originally an expansion that became a full game?”. While David Gaider has said this at numerous points after the game’s release, it isn’t… exactly true. Er, OK, it kind of is actually. See, in a response to Mark, he shares his perspective; he transferred pretty early on Awakening’s life to do concept work for what, as he noted, “...was initially discussed (to me) as a stand-alone xp”. Once that rapid pitch for DA2 had occurred, he had transferred onto Mark’s team, and in a manner of speaking, “DA 1.5 became DA2, and we expanded what was originally supposed to be a "connective" story into its own thing.” With that in mind, Gaider’s also been adamant about sharing other forms of cut content, such as one time when doing an interview with VGS, and having tweeted about it himself in different intervals back in mid-April, which you can read PCGamer’s cover article about. One of these, in particular, are about a “Synder Cut” exercise going over things he, in retrospect, would’ve added/altered/accentuated upon; these include restoring an actual time passage to reflect Kirkwall’s change, implementing callouts and details centering around a Mage Hawke, an extended prologue where you actually had more time with both Siblings before the main event kicked off, and doing multiple, multiple ideas regarding the Act 3 conflict. While this hypothetical time extension would help out with some of the limped mechanics, I unfortunately doubt that such a thing would drastically improve the game beyond recognition. I’d still find the fundamentals and new direction of combat to be a wimping farce, the quest structure would still largely consist of running around beating shit up for A Thing, and oh yea, that awful Act 3 proposition would still be there, even with these supposed fixes and more “I don’t wanna deal with this shit” callouts. To me, it’s really just a reminder that sometimes, the best course when it comes to bandaging things up, is to just throw it out and go back to the drawing board.

That’s just what I’ve been able to gather during the writing process, there’s likely more stories from the people involved I haven’t found and/or weren’t documented by others. Whatever the full story, it was labelled as a success, being one of many titles in its lineup to reach over a million sales, and as stated before, there’s a following for this that has since brewed larger and prouder years after it was released. In fact, I’ve seen countless, countless fans going “holy cow, it’s amazing how much they were able to get done in such a short time!”, but like… is it really? Is being fed to the grind solely for their publishing company to rake in cash something to be proud of? I’ve hit numerous statements that said this ordeal has brought some of them together, same with sifting through many different people illuminating their joyful experience with the story and the events that unfolded. I’m happy for those folks, and I wouldn’t dare wish for them to rescind any of that at all. I can’t help but continue to feel like I’m just missing whatever is available - KOTOR2 has faced similar and arguably more egregious woes, yet that’s one of my favorite pieces of art ever made. It’s been several months since I’ve touched Tomb Raider Underworld, facing development struggles as well, yet I was able to skirt by with more positive feelings than shackled remorse. What was the difference?

Perhaps, this time, it’s because the hurt was harder to ignore.

I suppose this last bit is the “being real” portion, cause truth be told, I’m exhausted. I’ve largely procrastinated, even to the point finishing the game took longer than it should’ve, solely because I didn’t want to continue. Many times I have fluctuated as to whether or not I even wanted to bother writing a full-length review and figure to opt for a summary style of likes, dislikes, and neutrals, but that wouldn’t satisfy me, that wouldn’t cover all my thoughts. A couple cases I felt like I should’ve wisened up, cut my bond, and stopped giving the game attention, but that would solve nothing but fuel the escapist mentality that has disproportionately affected my headscape, making me forget I like so much of what was on offer despite all the problems. Every time I would sit down and try to focus, I would feel numerous pits swell because I keep hitting stories about hype and reassurance only for those all to fall flat on their faces, matched against . Each time, I’m reminded of the suits maiming and draining the forces of passion harboring inside developers, all for profit that wouldn’t even fucking matter. And now, as I play various CAVE OSTs in the background, recovering from a cold, to finalize this doc, something that has faced more scrapped ideas and reshaped forms than the 70 or so hours I’ve allotted onto the main game, to completion, I’m nagging at myself that I’ll likely never be satisfied by it. It’d be easy to end this whole thing with a generic “I HATE CAPITALISM AND CRUNCH CULTURE” spiel like it’s the greatest goddamn revelation no one’s ever thought of, but I’m already vociferating enough that more would take it less seriously, especially since everyone has bore witness to the failings of The Game Awards’ presentation on how they treat this same group less than the dollar signs of adverts.

I suppose if there is a nugget of relatability Hawke has given me, it’s that both of us just wanted things to be over with before they get any worse, to stop facing reminders that we can never go back to how things once were. A fitting rang for the signaled death knell of a once respected studio.