Format: Xbox
360 Developer:
Lionhead Studios Publisher:
Microsoft Game Studios Genre:
RPG Online:http://www.xbox.com/fable2 Release
Date: Out Now!
One
man and his dog
And so the sequel to one of the most talked about games
on Xbox 360 – not least by one of its infectiously enthusiastic creators, Peter
Molyneux - has finally arrived. How does the latest instalment of the series
(gratifyingly, it seems there are plans to create another sequel) fare, when
all is said and done? Pretty damn well, thank you very much, although it should
probably be stated now that anyone in search of a satisfying story should keep
searching. Fable II’s onus is firmly
on interacting with the people of Albion and, to a lesser extent, the world
itself. Compared to the overblown bombast of the average JRPG, and the po-faced
self regard of many western RPGs, this approach feels like something
wonderfully fresh and new.
With the game’s stated focus being that of emotional
connection, it’s easy to feel that perhaps Lionhead was setting itself up for a
very large fall. Indeed, to begin with, it’s extremely hard to view the canine
friend you discover early in the game’s opening moments as anything other than
an annoyance. In a fit of smart-arsedness, I called my earnest companion
Minimap, deciding that this experiment in making players care was hopelessly
contrived. After that, I studiously ignored the annoying mutt; far more
successful was the game’s system of interacting with other people within Albion.
Of course, Lionhead’s opus is not the only game released
this month to chronicle the adventures of one man and his dog; Bethesda’s
latest sprawling adventure Fallout 3
also tackles the idea of freeform adventuring, as did the equally accomplished Oblivion. In many ways, in fact, it is
fair to view Fable II and Oblivion as being at the opposite sides
of the spectrum, tackling the concept of player freedom in different ways.
Oblivion’s
focus was on creating a brilliantly-realised world with a rich, detailed
history, culture and religion, arguably at the expense of the player’s
connection to the stories being played out in Tamriel, and the people affected.
In an alarmingly short span of time, the NPCs populating the world were reduced
in the player’s eyes as being nothing more than points of information; the fact
that their interactions with the player were limited to a small set of unique
dialogue shattering any suspension of disbelief. The more games strive towards
veracity and realism, the easier – and more tempting - it becomes to find
flaws, to purposefully set about pulling at the frayed edges.
Fable
II,
and its predecessor, cleverly avoids the problem by having players interact
with the good people of Albion through a variety of amusing gestures; the
reactions displayed are manifold and follow a clear internal logic, whilst
never seeming prerecorded. Thrust your hips and grunt at a whore and she’ll
clap and coo, whilst any noblewomen will look on in disgust; the animations
used throughout are fantastic and – necessarily – exaggerated, always making
the results of your foolishness clear. It’s a shame, then, that the game does
still feel the need to have floating icons appear over NPCs’ heads; the
materialisation of smiley faces every time you start whistling does start to
become disconcerting.
The notion of morality in Fable II is also something of a slight disappointment, although not
because of what’s present – one moment in particular will make you put down the
joypad and really think – but because
I’d have liked there to be more. The key word here is exaggeration, with the
majority of players unlikely to have massive crowds of people asking for their
autograph, or fleeing in terror. The indistinct grey area inhabited by most
people will be a curious mixture of alternate praise and fear. Again, the
existence of sliders indicating your level of corruption/moral upstanding seems
to be rather missing the point, and felt to me wholly superfluous; after
several hours of playtime, I simply ignored them because they weren’t
necessary. The amount of background chatter remarking on my character’s every
trait, from his generous rent demands to his choice of tattoos was
overwhelming.
But let’s not get too carried away here. Whilst it’s
certainly far easier to become engaged with the people inhabiting Albion, and
to view them as fully fleshed-out individuals, I don’t think I would actually
say I cared about them. Tellingly,
though, I haven’t yet felt the urge to embark on a spree of mindless slaughter,
one of my favourite pastimes in Oblivion.
Peter Molyneux has reportedly said that one aim of Fable II was to make it far more difficult to be good; I beg to
differ, as the observations of the people made me want to constantly be on my
best behaviour. That’s the key, right there: the world may very well revolve
around you, but in Fable’s case the
world doesn’t always like it.
The game’s much-vaunted ‘one button fits all’ philosophy
also leaves rather a lot to be desired, with spellcasting being a particularly
cumbersome affair. Although it’s by no means a broken system, anyone other than
the most casual of gamers will question the lack of depth apparent in the
system. Having said this, there is a real tangible weight to your hero’s
actions and movements that always makes watching
fights unfold thrilling.
And what of Minimap, the dog that loyally followed me
through hell and high water, with no recognition on my part? Strangely,
wonderfully, Fable II’s story proved
that you should never take things for granted: I miss the damn mutt already.
