Retro Review: Dungeon Siege II

I have a lot of love for the Dungeon Siege games. The original was the first RPG I well and truly enjoyed, and the third was one of the best games I’ve ever played.

Battling scorpions in the desert in Dungeon Siege IIThe second passed me by, though. It came out during the time when Real Life prevented me from gaming. Once I did take up gaming again, I tried the demo but found it oddly underwhelming, so another few years went by without my playing Dungeon Siege II.

But come the most recent Steam sale, I was able to buy it for pocket change, so I decided to finally play through it from beginning to end.

I don’t regret the decision, but this game definitely isn’t on par with the other entries in the franchise.

An unhappy medium:

In many ways, Dungeon Siege II plays much the same as the original. It’s an action RPG more or less in the “Diablo clone” mould. It allows you to recruit a large party, and rather than having preset classes, your character levels skills naturally as you play — though you’re still encouraged to pick one style of fighting and stick with it.

As with the original, DS2 spends most of its time treading a fine line between mindless and relaxing, though the puzzles and boss fights are a bit more intense this time.

The siege of Snowbrook Haven in Dungeon Siege IIHowever, there are some ways in which DS2 is a departure from the first game. It attempts to be a bit less mindless and a bit more of a traditional RPG, but not all of these changes are for the better, and those that are crippled by some seriously poor design decisions.

DS2 sees the addition of skill trees for each “class,” as well as activated powers, but both of these fail to enrich the game.

Much of the appeal of the original Dungeon Siege came from the fact that it was an RPG where you built your character by playing the game, rather than playing the game by building your character. The addition of skill trees kills this, and it brings back a lot of the problems of traditional RPGs — having to grind forever to start to feel powerful, and having to force yourself into one incredibly narrow style of play.

For example, in the original, a fighter could swap between a one-hand weapon and shield and a two-hand weapon readily, depending on the needs of the party. In DS2, those are completely different specs.

DS2 has a much greater variety of weapon and spell types than any other game in the series, but it’s a complete waste when the skill trees force you to focus on only one play style.

A scenic vista in Vai'lutra Forest in Dungeon Siege IIArmour is now strictly segregated based on “class” as well, which I find sucks some of the fun out. I enjoyed having mages in chain mail.

And none of this adds any real depth. Dungeon Siege II is still far more basic than most RPGs. It’s a “worst of both worlds” scenario.

The powers aren’t much help, either. They’re very powerful and fun to use, but you can only equip one per character, and they have fairly lengthy cooldowns, so they don’t so much spice up the simplistic gameplay as call attention to it — especially in the early game.

There are some things I like better about DS2 than the original — at least in theory — but other elements of the game sabotage them.

Each party member is a fully fleshed out character now, with dialogue throughout the game and quests unique to them. Some of the characters are pretty interesting, so I enjoyed this.

Fighting in Windstone Fortress in Dungeon Siege IIOr at least I tried to. Dialogue is interrupted by combat, and there’s no way I can see to restart a cancelled conversation in the field. This is a game where it’s pretty much impossible to ever not be fighting, so I missed a huge amount of the character dialogue.

DS2 also has much stricter party size limits, based on difficulty setting. On the easiest setting, you can only have a maximum of four party members. Since the game is designed such that you need at least one of all four “classes,” that renders choice of party members largely moot.

Oh, and you can’t play the higher difficulties until you beat the easiest one.

I hate, hate, hate this. It’s everything I loathe about the RPG genre: arbitrary restrictions and grind for grind’s sake. It also goes completely against the effort to make each party member more meaningful, and it strips away more of the Dungeon Siege identity — another core selling feature of the first game was the huge party size you could potentially have.

DS2 also features a new pet system that allows you to raise various minions by feeding them gear. I really liked this system — who wouldn’t want a baby mule following them around?

But again, this is sabotaged by the party size limitations. Since you can only have four party members and you need one of each class, the pet system basically doesn’t exist on your first play through of the game. I had to give up my beloved mule, Daisy, in order to have an archer. That’s just criminal.

My beloved pack mule, Daisy, in Dungeon Siege IIWe’re not in Ehb anymore:

My other big gripe about Dungeon Siege II is the story.

The story in the original Dungeon Siege was fairly simplistic, but a strong setting in the form of the Kingdom of Ehb and a great sense of history made it compelling. The third game in the franchise capitalized on the rich history of Ehb, further expanding the setting while also revisiting old favourites.

DS2, on the other hand, is set in a completely different part of the world and has almost no connection whatsoever to the stories of the first and third games. In terms of plot and setting, DS2 might as well be from a completely different franchise. Only the presence of Azunai makes it at all recognizable as a Dungeon Siege game.

As for the new story, it somehow manages to be even more generic and cliche than the original’s. There are a few interesting revelations about the history of the world here or there, but mostly it could be any other fantasy game on the market, and there’s not nearly the same sense of place and history that made me care about Ehb so fiercely.

There are some other annoyances here and there, too. Unlike in the original, enemies in DS2 will respawn, and they do so incredibly quickly — even very powerful enemies.

A cutscene of Azunai battling Zaramoth in Dungeon Siege IIThis makes backtracking a rather tedious process, and boy, does this game require a lot of backtracking.

It’s not all bad news:

For all my griping, I don’t want to give the impression that Dungeon Siege II is terrible. I did finish it, after all, and I wouldn’t have done that if I wasn’t having some fun.

The core gameplay remains enjoyable, if a bit simplistic and repetitive. I did enjoy interacting with my party members on the occasions when we weren’t interrupted by combat.

It’s an incredibly detailed game, too, with enormous potential for exploration and secret areas everywhere.

Probably the best thing about DS2 is how meaty it is. It’s an incredibly long game, and the various secrets and side quests will keep you busy for a few dozen hours at least — though some quests are a little unnecessarily tedious. Considering how cheaply you can pick this game up nowadays, you definitely get your money’s worth.

Exploring a cave in Dungeon Siege III still wouldn’t recommend Dungeon Siege II, though, unless you’re a huge fan of old school RPGs or a rabid completionist who enjoyed one or more of the other Dungeon Siege games.

DS2 isn’t a bad game per se, but it’s totally lacking in identity. It gave up virtually everything that made the original special and failed to establish a compelling identity of its own. By comparison, Dungeon Siege III was even more of a departure from the original, but it managed to be a strong and enjoyable game in its own right, and it was at least a true sequel to the original in terms of story.

Overall rating: 5.8/10 I highly recommend the first and third Dungeon Siege games, but you can safely skip this one.

My Love/Hate Relationship With RPGS

You might be surprised to learn this, but for a good chunk of my life, I considered RPGs to be my least favourite of the major video game genres. I played several, but I usually felt them to be more frustrating than fun.

My rogue surveys her domainEven now that I’ve matured a bit and learned to appreciate RPGs more, there’s still a very significant part of me that’s constantly rolling its eyes and cursing under its breath as I play them. I’ve coined the term “RPG BS” to describe the more irritating habits of the genre, and my opinion of an RPG usually boils down to how much it can minimize this “BS.”

So why do I keep playing RPGs despite loathing many of their fundamental aspects? I asked myself that question, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I love the fantasy of the RPG, but that the reality of the genre often doesn’t align with that fantasy, and in many cases, even actively works against it.

Fantasy versus reality:

At its heart, the RPG genre is about putting the player into the classic hero myth. Start from humble beginnings, go through many trials and tribulations, learn from those experiences and grow into a more powerful hero, and achieve glorious victory.

That’s an awesome concept for a video game. You take the most core and powerful human story, and you put the player center stage. A good RPG is like a brilliant novel or a masterpiece film, but even better, because it’s not some abstract character you’re watching from the outside. You’re living it. It’s your story.

Even if you’re someone who doesn’t pay a lot of attention to story in games, it’s still a thrill to go through that archetypal journey. We’re just hardwired as a species to be drawn to that concept of growth, trial, and achievement.

My wizard posing with Eirena in Diablo IIIThis is what draws me to RPGs. To live the fantasy of the epic hero.

But a lot of the traditional mechanics of RPGs are completely divorced from that fantasy, or outright harmful to it.

I’m sure a lot of purists will sneer at me this, but the obsession with numerical balancing acts is one of the worst aspects of the RPG genre for me. Everything in these supposedly epic adventures boils down to math.

You’ve got to carefully pick and choose where all your stats go, and there’s generally very little thought to it since there are rarely more than a handful of ways to build a character effectively. Rare indeed is the RPG where a warrior stacks intelligence.

Boiling everything down to math rips me right out of the fantasy. I don’t recall Shea Ohmsford having to reach at least 35 points of strength or learn the “Mystic Sword Mastery” talent to wield the Sword of Shannara.

A lot of the restrictions RPGs place on characters based on their stats are completely illogical, too. You level up skills or attributes so that you can wield powerful weapons or spells. Logically, it should be the other way around. You practice with melee weapons; you get better at melee weapons. You try a new spell and slowly become more adept at it.

The Darkspawn march through the Dead Trenches in Dragon Age: OriginsGranted, in a lot of games it functions more or less this way anyway since you’ll generally be using the same fighting style the whole way through — God forbid a player have the chance to experiment — so a melee fighter will slowly work their way up to more powerful weapons. But having to think excessively about your stats or your build distracts from the fantasy and detracts from the adventure.

Winning on the character sheet, not the battlefield:

In the end, success in the majority of RPGs relies much less to how you play your character and much more on how you build your character. Aside from detracting from the heroic fantasy, this also sucks a lot of the fun out of the gameplay. Combat isn’t very exciting when you know the outcome has likely been decided long before it begins. It devalues things like reflexes and snap decision-making and makes one feel unheroic.

Excitement comes from narrowly avoiding boss attacks, executing perfect combinations of abilities, and making sound strategic decisions in the heat of combat, not from Googling a theorycrafted build, equipping some phat lewt, and facerolling your way through enemies.

The reason I loved the original Dungeon Siege was that it was a game that got out of its own way and let you live the heroic fantasy. You just picked up whatever kind of weapons or magic you wanted to use and got fighting. The more you used melee weapons, the more skilled you became with them. Want to be a combat mage? Just start throwing fireballs. You built your character by playing the game, as opposed to playing the game by building your character.

The logo for Dungeon SiegeThis focus on building over playing is compounded by the fact that most RPGs make changing builds difficult, costly, or outright impossible, thus punishing mistakes or experimentation. I don’t mind The Secret World’s dependence on build choices for success because swapping abilities is incredibly quick and easy. It’s an element of gameplay, not a chore. Plus, it encourages experimentation, rather than discouraging it.

Thinking of TSW and its adaptability, another pet peeve of mine about RPGs is how they limit players and force them into such narrow boxes. Most force you to pick a class, and there’s generally little opportunity to customize these classes in truly meaningful ways. You can be a warrior who specializes in swords, or a warrior who specializes in axes.

This one isn’t so black and white. Classes do have a positive impact, as well, because it gives people readily identifiable archetypes and allows them to jump into a game and know what kind of experience they’re going to have. Most people are going to gravitate to certain playstyles, anyway.

But still, I wish games would be a little more creative with their classes or at least offer some more diverse ways to customize them. Given the choice, I’d probably play every game as a plate-wearing mage who dual wields swords. Or maybe an arcane archer.

Humble beginnings:

There is one way that RPGs are good at sticking to the heroic fantasy, but it’s the one way that they probably shouldn’t: the idea of starting as nobody.

My hunter on the Wandering IsleStarting from nothing and working your up to a great hero makes for a good story — though I think the “humble beginnings” angle is overplayed, myself — but it doesn’t make for exciting gameplay. I don’t particularly enjoy running around in rags and killing boars with a rusty kitchen knife.

In my experience, single-player RPGs are getting better about throwing you into the exciting stuff immediately, but a lot of MMOs still have the nasty habit of forcing you to wade through level upon level of tedium to get to the good stuff.

Gear:

And we come to my final gripe.

The idea of iconic weapons and armor is very core to a lot of heroic stories. Frodo had Sting and his mithril tunic. Perseus had his mirrored shield and winged sandals. Tirion Fordring has the Ashbringer.

Nothing says “fantasy hero” like slaying a terrible beast, collecting a weapon of incredible power from its hoard, and using this weapon to bring justice to the world.

My Dragon under the moonlight in Blue MountainRPG developers recognize this and make gear core to progression in most games, but therein lies the problem. They’ve made gear so central that it’s fallen away from the original fantasy.

See, Frodo didn’t replace Sting with the Bloodied Handaxe of Savagery, and then replace that with the +1 Giant Stick of Compensation.

The whole thing about iconic weapons and armor is that they’re iconic. RPGs have made gear so meaningful that it’s become meaningless. You never grow attached to your equipment. It doesn’t become a core part of your character’s identity.

I’m reminded of a game I played in my youth called Drakan: Order of the Flame. It wasn’t exactly an RPG, but it had elements of one, such as gear. But in Drakan, new items were relatively uncommon, and really good items were even rarer. I remember one weapon you could find in act one, the Mace of the Hand, was so good that you generally wouldn’t replace it until act three. That’s how gear should work.

In the case of MMOs, gear is especially problematic because it becomes a treadmill. You need to regularly perform gear resets and make people start over again. My characters in WoW aren’t any more powerful now than they were when I joined back in Wrath of the Lich King.

My mesmer showing off her gear in Diessa PlateauI like how The Secret World handles gear, because they don’t do resets. They add new forms of progression instead. Gear upgrades are also rare enough to feel meaningful. My Dragon used his sword from last year’s Mayan event up until just a few weeks ago.

The later Mass Effect games also had an interesting take on gear. Rather than making new pieces of armor numerically superior, they just granted different kinds of bonuses. Gearing was a strategic choice, not a matter of “this has bigger numbers, so I’ll equip it.”

Making everything depend on gear also devalues the concept of your character as a hero. My WoW characters are weak as kittens without their gear. That’s not exciting; a hero should be a badass no matter what they’re wearing or what weapons they wield.

* * *

RPGs have become more interesting since I was a kid, and they are amazing games when they can effectively capture that heroic fantasy. But far too often, they’re bogged down in mechanics that do more harm than good.