Tales of Berseria's Rokurou Defies His Archetype by Actually Not Sucking

I find Tales of Berseria to be quite awesome, as I’m sure you’ve all picked up on by now.  It’s excellently written, its characters are unique, have depth, and form great dynamics with one another, it has a refreshing and thoughtful take on an extremely common RPG story trope, the villain’s solid, it’s emotional as hell...it’s just a great title, all around.  But while I most greatly appreciate ToB’s ability to buck and even reverse its genre’s trend toward fixating on positive and negative emotional energy and drawing a line in the sand between them, that’s not the only common RPG narrative practice that ToB turns on its head over its course.  And 1 of these unexpected upsets that I think really deserves some appreciation is Namco’s decision to, unexpectedly, make the character of Rokurou something other than a one-dimensional, colossal fucking tool.

See, Rokurou belongs to a certain character archetype, known to a small degree globally but wildly frequent and inexplicably popular in Japan: the dude whose greatest priority and obsession in life is to fight other people and be the absolute best at doing so.  This style of character almost inevitably comes in 1 of 2 flavors, each of which is iconically characterized by a Dragon Ball Z character:


A: The numbnuts braindead dumbfuck whose mind is so stunted and worthless that he’s completely unable to find any joy, purpose, or distraction in life beyond simply finding harder and harder things to sink his fist into.  His single- and simple-minded prioritizing of this desire constantly endangers those around him, sometimes even as a result of said numbnuts braindead dumbfuck deliberately creating more dangerous situations out of a desire to test himself.  Goku is the most perfect example of this kind of man-infant,* although Leon and Nemona from Pokemon Generations 8 and 9 are worthy contenders for Dumbest Punch-Toddler, too.


B: Far more common, the belligerent, antisocial asswipe whose unwavering obsession with being the best at propelling hands and/or sharp objects into stuff is not the result of a mind so stunted that it’s simply incapable of finding joy in anything else, but rather of something even more pathetic: a raging, out-of-control engorged egotism.  He, too, is perfectly willing to put anyone and anything at risk in the impossible pursuit of a fight whose victory will finally make him secure in his manhood, except that unlike Type A, this jackass has enough brain cells to rub together that he actually is capable of knowing better, which makes him an even worse human being.  Also, he’s always such a complete, uncompromising buttmunch to everyone around him for no goddamn reason.  Vegeta is certainly not the most perfect example of this micro-dicked shithead (that illustrious distinction goes to My Hero Academia’s Bakugo nowadays), but he’s still a solid representation for the majority of DBZ’s course, so he's my go-to example nonetheless.


Worth noting, I suppose, is that this archetype CAN be about things other than combat--there’s nothing preventing a character of Type B from being an antagonistic rival character in an anime about playing children’s card games, for example.  And this archetype CAN, as I noted, be seen in media that doesn’t come out of Japan--you’ve got a decent chance of encountering some Type A nitwit with a mind so devolved that he can’t find anything in the entire scope of the human experience to quite compare with the existential delight of making a round object go from his hand to another place in more than a few movies about sports, for example.  The more strain it puts on that person’s home life, the better!  Especially if the solution to that issue is “Wife and/or Children compromise by just having to deal with being less important to this guy than hand-delivering a ball to a particular side of a painted line, and Guy compromises by not having to compromise.”

Anyway, as you can clearly tell, I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of respect or affection for this type of character, as a general rule.  Frankly, any character who has only a single notable and guiding personality trait is usually neither memorable nor especially likable, and a demonstrable example of the limitations of the writer(s) behind him, but this archetype is especially bad, because it creates individuals who are basically doldrums of character development.  With most 1-dimensional personalities in a cast, well, they don’t really contribute all that much to the whole or experience, but the extent of their failure as a writer’s creation only extends as far as themselves.  Quina Quen from Final Fantasy 9, for example, is a throwaway joke character whose only notable trait is wanting to eat a bunch of stuff.  In as great an RPG as FF9, this kind of dead weight cast member is quite surprising, but Quina’s wanting personality and depth only really lessen itself.  When other characters interact with Quina, the process can still be enjoyable and/or interesting, because Quina is good-natured enough (if not terribly bright) to converse with its companions, and get involved in whatever they’re up to even in occasions where that doesn’t have anything to do with something edible.

The Fighting’s My Life archetype, however, is, as I mentioned, a doldrum of personality and character development.  If it’s not about fighting and killing, he’s not fucking interested when his companions want to talk to him or do something with him.  And since the Type B version is the most prevalent, this usually involves him being a snide, self-absorbed asswipe to the others trying for some inexplicable reason to actually be his friend.  Someone wants to talk to Keita in Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2 about anything not related to putting his fist through something, and he’s not interested.  Strike up a conversation with Jeritza in Fire Emblem 16, and he’s gonna do everything in his power to direct it toward scheduling a death match between you and him, because Sothis forbid people try to get to know each other on any level without attempted murder being involved  And don’t even get me started on that turd-guzzling fuckwad Albel from Star Ocean 3.  Not only is this character utterly stagnant and going fucking nowhere, but everyone they come in contact with loses all character-growth momentum the moment they open their mouth and invoke the sullen glare.  Hence my use of the term doldrums to describe these characters.

And honestly, the Type A version’s no better in any real regard, when it does surface--Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3’s Akihiko isn’t a hostile butthead like the Type Bs, but his ability to engage with others in any way on a subject unrelated to fighting and bulking up is, generously put, limited, and his single-minded focus can and does derail the interactions of characters whose personalities require more than a single sentence to adequately describe.

I may not be happy about Quina Quen contributing basically nothing to the story and cast of Final Fantasy 9, but at least it has the courtesy not to slow down everyone around it, and at least it’s decent enough not to be a complete fucking tool the whole time.

But getting back to Rokurou, that’s what’s amazing about the guy: he’s a combat-obsessed character, a guy who’s dedicated his life to his own strength and the thrill of fighting, with as much devotion as Keita, Jeritza, Albel, Akihiko, or any other character of this type...but he’s also actually intelligent, and what’s more, not a complete fucking asshole.

HOLY SHIT IT’S ACTUALLY FUCKING POSSIBLE.

Is everything of any weight or significance about Rokurou limited entirely to his obsession with battle?  Oh, absolutely.  Rokurou’s history and his story over the course of Tales of Berseria is devoted in its entirety to his burning desire to be the greatest warrior, which in this case means defeating his brother (who IS the greatest warrior) in combat, he became a demon specifically because of his lust for violence, and we see multiple instances in ToB where it’s made clear that he derives a hedonistic thrill from a good fight.  One can hardly try to make the argument that Rokurou has any less the fixation of combat than other examples of his archetype; I’d even say that his character arc of this game has enough substance to make his obsession stronger than many of his peers’.

But Rokurou actually has a personality.  Not only is he not a braindead punch-toddler constantly asking “Is my fist there yet?” (the "there" in question being someone’s face...okay, look, not every joke is a winner, alright?), he’s also not a sulky, vainglorious jerk to everyone around him.  Rokurou is, in fact, actually pretty damn personable.  When his teammates engage him in conversation--which is quite often; Tales of Berseria has a ton of those skits I like so much--he talks to them, answers them, pays attention to the topics they’re intent on discussing even if that topic isn’t a list of things that can and can’t be stabbed.  He’s willing to engage in, hell, even initiate lighthearted banter, speculation about the group’s current and ultimate objectives, and theorizing on deeper matters and personal philosophies.  Rokurou isn’t just a tired, color-by-numbers archetype, he’s a character.

And it’s honestly only to the game’s and his own benefit.  Not only is it a good thing to have a character with nuance and depth, not to mention one whose role also enhances the overall dynamics of the cast’s interaction and chemistry, but making Rokurou a sincere, actual person instead of a combat automaton actually betters his ability to fulfill his role, too.  Because when the times come that Rokurou’s bloodlust and obsession with proving his combat greatness are seen, the contrast of the generally affable and decent guy he is under most circumstances to the driven, dangerous demon he becomes makes a far more powerful impression on the audience of his obsession with strength and skill at fighting.  You see a character who just outright cannot show the slightest enthusiasm for anything besides fighting get all pumped up about a chance to prove his mettle in a battle, and it’s like, okay, sure, whatever, big deal, he’s just doing the only thing he ever goddamn talks about doing.  You see Rokurou get so aggressive that he’s a moment away from attacking even his comrades if they get in the way of his battle, and it makes a jarring impression on you, because you’re not used to seeing Rokurou like this, and you’re reminded violently that regardless of his generally outgoing demeanor, this guy is a demon of violence.  Because there’s something substantial to contrast it against, the obsession with the thrill of fighting is, with Rokurou, far more a memorable and genuine trait than it is for his idiot RPG peers who have nothing but that to offer.

Also, credit to the game as a whole for having the sense and decency to show that there are actual costs to a mindset like this (Rokurou’s obsession has led to exile, and to his losing his humanity).  More than that, for once an RPG actually identifies this as a negative emotion and mindset, which is a real breath of fresh, logical air.  Every other time you encounter this character archetype, the game seems to regard this selfish, antisocial, dead-end obsession with fighting and physical strength as a good thing, even a life philosophy to be encouraged!  And sure, Tales of Berseria is all about acknowledging and validating the worth, or at least the importance, of the negative aspects of the human spirit...but just the fact that it can even identify this infantile/egomaniacal violent psychosis as a trait not to be unquestioningly lauded and idealized is incredible in a JRPG!

So yeah, great kudos to Tales of Berseria’s writers for how they handled the cliched Fighting-Obsessed Guy character.  I respect the fact that they didn’t pretend it’s a positive or respectable mentality, and I greatly appreciate the fact that they didn’t just lazily make that the 1 and only thing going on with Rokurou, the way every other game’s writers do.  Well done, Namco.












* Even children are capable of diversifying themselves as thinking, self-aware creatures past a single interest, so “manchild” just didn’t feel accurate enough.

The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask AMV: It's Me

Many thanks to Ecclesiastes for looking over this rant and making sure it doesn't suck!  At least, not any worse than usual.  You're the best, sir!



How long’s it been since an AMV impressed me so much that I felt compelled to make an entire rant all about it and it alone?  Over 3 years?  Sounds about right; quality of such degree doesn’t come around often.  And hey, bonus, this time it’s not about Final Fantasy 8!  So let’s take a look at the treat that its creator, who prefers to go by Eldritchdraaks, has to share with us.


The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask: It’s Me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NIqnrE-zcOw


Look.  Look with Your Special Eyes: This AMV is a damn treat to see.  The basic graphical quality is high, the visuals having been taken from the 3DS HD version of the game, and although TLoZMM is a dated game technologically, it nonetheless has an iconic aesthetic that puts its polygons to work in a way that piques the player’s interest as much in the present as it did in the past.

The use of visual effects here is excellent, in my opinion.  For the most part, Eldritchdraaks is quite content to let the energy and strength of Majora’s Mask speak for itself, doing little to alter or distract from the strength of its creepy and often striking imagery, and that’s a smart move--it’s usually better as a rule of thumb to be reserved about interfering with the game’s part in an AMV, and that’s especially true when the game’s look plays a huge role in its identity and the identity of the AMV as a whole.  But that doesn’t mean that Eldritchdraaks’s limited himself just to smooth and artfully logical scene selections and transitions: he has, in fact, found a way to increase the power of Majora’s Mask’s screen presence in this video by editing in text boxes, styled after the game’s own, to display the song’s lyrics.  It’s a good idea that has a great payoff for the video, as with the game itself seeming to be the one singing the song’s lyrics, it’s all the more immersive an experience.  The text even changes in color and loses its box at times when the game scene it’s supposedly playing over would normally have had an accordingly different style--now that’s dedication to detail!

Similarly, Eldritchdraaks’s ability to insert the series-signature musical score text boxes at moments when the character on-screen is playing an instrument is a clever and very cool trick, particularly the way that he has the button-press notes appear in perfect sync with the music’s beats--it flawlessly looks like it’s real footage of a gamer managing to play along to the AMV’s song.  In fact, I at first didn’t even realize it wasn’t authentic, until I realized that these score boxes show up even when characters other than Link are playing music.  Very neat!

Eldritchdraaks really threw his all into the visual presentation of this AMV, and it shows, even in ways you don’t necessarily pick up on consciously.  There is, for example, a substantive effect at 2:39 in which the screen keeps reducing in size to the beat of the music.  To me, it simply represented a special effect that emphasized the increasing tension in the music and scene (and it’s very effective in this capacity), but the creator has told me that that’s actually 1 of his favorite moments of editing, because beyond just its great harmony with the music and cutscene, it also references the way, in TLoZMM, the screen shrinks at the end of each day, when the clock tower rings.  I’m not too proud to admit that this allusion went right over my head, but it’s a great example of the level of dedication and subtlety Eldritchdraaks put into this work to not only make it really cool to watch, but a great representation of the source material in even the most subtle ways.  These are the hallmarks of a real artist, and It’s Me is filled with’em.


If Music be the Food of Love, Play On: The song used in this AMV is It’s Me, an original fan creation by TryHardNinja for the 5 Nights at Freddy’s series.  I can’t say that it’s my kind of music at all, any more than 5 Nights at Freddy’s is my kind of game, but I can at least recognize that the song, for what kind of music it is, seems really good.  Far too good for the franchise it was inspired by, really.

Which actually is fitting, because it’s kinda hard for me to imagine that this song could possibly fit better to the game it was actually created for than it does to The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask.  At least, that’s how I feel after seeing this AMV, which so perfectly matches, from start to finish, this unsettling and spooky song to both the blatant and the out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye sense of disturbing wrongness that TLoZMM revels in.  Additionally, lyrics that (I assume) have literal meaning when applied to 5NaF take on an even more sinister and fitting feeling as Eldritchdraaks pairs them as metaphors and symbols to the visuals of Majora’s Mask, while maintaining at least if not more surface-level relevance, as a song about a creepy and hostile setting, masks, and the cycle of night to day.

Of course, finding the music that matches the game so well is only a quarter of the battle, and the rest is managing to match it all together to create a product that’s both fitting and entertaining.  Eldritchdraaks is up the task.  I love the individual scenes that fit into the lyrics like a glove, such as 0:34, in which the song declares that the subject is in the dark but not all alone, and we see Link falling in the dark, but surrounded by the many masks which will assist him on the journey (thus he’s not alone, albeit in a much more positive sense than the music originally intended).  And I love 1:56, talking of making the listener “one of them” and showing the scene of Link as a wooden creepy-as-hell figure*

I love the way the scenes used for the chorus not only match the lyrics, but follow a theme, with the first one at 0:37 connecting the chorus’s subject of masks with the main 3 transformation masks that Link wears in TLoZMM and their origins, and then the second chorus at 2:07 continuing that theme by now focusing on other characters wearing less-central masks that also transformed them, or at least hid the truth of who they were.  I love the similar thematic way that the second part of the chorus each time is used to highlight the evil infesting Termina, the first time emphasizing the major story bosses, the second time focusing on the background villainy, all perfectly building up to the proclamation of the titular evil “It’s Me.”  Damn elegantly done, too, with each embodiment of the expressed evil being slotted into a single repetition of the lyrics.  And I love that the last part of the chorus, having no lyrics to coordinate with, seamlessly blends together with the song’s overpowering tune, giving us a montage both times of scenes that synchronize with each beat that once again follows a theme (music the first time, settings in sequential order of game completion the second time).  And I love that the end of the song coincides with the Dawn of a New Day.

This is pretty much as good as it gets in terms of joining the right visuals and the right game to a song.  I wasn’t kidding before; I earnestly couldn’t imagine how you could make this song better suit 5 Nights at Freddy’s, that which it was specifically created for, than this AMV makes it fit to The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask.  This is just masterful music video craftsmanship, plain and simple.


Lucy, You Got Some ‘Splainin’ to Do: The purpose of this AMV is that of most game music videos: to pay tribute to its subject and tell its story.  And it does it darned well.  As noted, the music is a great match to the discomforting atmosphere and imagery of The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, and the visuals capitalize on that nicely.  Additionally, Eldritchdraaks represents a wide range of both the most narratively important and the more memorable scenes, characters, and props of the game, furthering the effectiveness of the video as a tribute to the style, and mentality of Majora’s Mask.

It’s also cool, though, in that it not only emotionally tells the story of the game, but also does so more literally, too.  The AMV opens with early content from the game that sets the overall plot up, ends with the game’s own finality, and between these moments contains the majority of the signature, vital parts of the game--the scene selection of this AMV manages to represent Majora’s Mask’s most important plot devices and concepts (the masks, the musical component, the moon, the time repetition, etc), its most important characters, its antagonists, and its settings.  But it goes a step further than just laying out all the pieces of the game: in the last part of the second chorus, we get to see a quick sequence that represents the course of the game itself, showing us each major dungeon to overcome in its beginning state and then the results of Link’s actions, in the order they’re visited in the game, finishing with the climactic showdown in Clocktown and the destruction of the moon.  It’s essentially like a tiny snapshot of the game’s own course...and by having previously showed us all the characters and plot devices and whatnot, the AMV has, in a sense, told us the whole story of the game.  It showed us all the actors and props in the play, and then the events in the order they transpire--a stylized little way of telling TLoZMM’s story without doing a conventional play-by-play.  Very neat!

It’s Me is a really great AMV.  It tells the story and sells the feeling and style of The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask extremely well, it’s technically excellent, it’s a hell of a lot of fun to watch, and its every part seems to have been made with care.  You’re lucky if you can find a single decent RPG AMV for every 20 you come across, but quality outweighs quantity to me, and it’s AMVs of quality like this that keep me an avid watcher of this fan art-form.












* I’m not alone in this; this is also Eldritchdraaks’s favorite part of the video.  To quote the man himself, “My absolute favorite part of the video is 1:53-2:22. With the way the lyrics talk about "making you one of us" and showing the creepy link statue as if to imply Majora wished for Link to fall and become yet another of those to leave behind nothing but a mask. And it's followed up with talking about "doing it all again" because HEY! that's the whole point of the game! the constant resets, falling through the void of clocks to land right back where you started at 6am. Time to do it all again.”

General RPGs' Last Minute Party Members

 It’s been a grueling, emotionally charged journey.  You began it a courageous and naive hero who struck out to save the world, against all the odds...it seems so long ago, like another lifetime.  The hardships of your quest have changed you forever, both the suffering and the joy of perseverance making their indelible mark upon who you are and what you can accomplish...but though you started this thing alone, you didn’t remain so, and you could not have made it if not for the commitment, the heroism, and the support of the unlikely fellowship of allies around you now.  Strangers once, the months of traveling together and relying upon one another, and the burdens upon each of you being shared unconditionally with one another have forged a brotherhood of strength between you all beyond the capacity of language to define.  Months of standing together against cataclysm and villainy, of supporting one another through world-shaking events, have made these companions your comrades, friends, family, and so much more beyond that.

And now, you all stand before the doors of your final antagonist’s personal chambers.  The weight of the world is on each and every one of you, but you know these people around you, and you know that they can carry that responsibility to a one.  You reach forth to push open the doors of destiny...

Then suddenly Steve shows up and he’s all like “HEY guys, got an empty slot in the party for one more!?  AWWWW YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH LET’S DO THIS BROSEFS!”

I’m sure we’ve all been there at least once, as regular RPG players.  We go through nearly the entire game, picking up story-relevant characters throughout the first half who relate in some meaningful way to the game’s events, getting to know them and forming our perceptions of the cast and game as a whole through their interactions and roles.  Except then, way later, nearly at the end of the game, a last party member shows up, so tardy that his or her presence feels at best like an afterthought, at worst like an intrusion.  Frequently it’s an individual who has been, until this point, an adversary of sorts, so the fact that they’re joining the party seems meant to be a “oh, cool surprise” sort of thing, like Magus in Chrono Trigger.  But not always; sometimes someone just joins the party right near the end of the game and they’re not really any different from any other given character, like Chester in Tales of Phantasia.

It’s not always quite as extreme as the scenario I described, admittedly.  The dog in Shadowrun: Hong Kong, for example, is added to your party so late in the game that it’s puzzling, but you do have a few more missions in which to use him; he’s not made available only before the final battle.  The Banner Saga trilogy’s Alfrun, Eirik, and Valgard join the party in Chapter 17 of a story that totals 22 chapters as a whole, with less than a quarter of the whole adventure (and half of that last quarter follows a different group, so they’re actually only involved in essentially a latter eighth of the trilogy) to go, but it does mean that they’ll be around for a couple chapters as combatants and personalities to interact with the rest.  Peppita and Mirage in Star Ocean 3 are even worse; they’re finally made available in, what, the last 15% of the game?  But still not the last-boss exaggeration of mine, I guess.

Valkyrie Profile 2 only awards you Lenneth as a party member for the final dungeon, which is awful (though not nearly as awful as what it’s gonna do at the end of that dungeon), but even as incredibly late to the party as this member is, the last dungeon is still not just the final battle.  Likewise, Sonya Shulen might only have avoided going down in Suikoden history books as a villain by the narrowest margin, but she’s still recruitable for a final dungeon rather than just the final boss.  While Magus only joins you once all the compulsory narrative of Chrono Trigger is finished, there’s still enough major story sidequests before the final battle that you could say he’s there for the last quarter of the game, or so.  Adri may be such a late addition to the party in Cris Tales that she joins you on the welcome mat in front of the final boss's door, but at least opening that door is still a matter of going through 4 separate mini-dungeons, and there's also an extra bonus dungeon thrown in there for the hell of it.  Even though that slacker Hanzou only joins the first Shining Force in the last chapter of the game, that still leaves him with a whole 5 battles in which to offer you his assistance.  Wooooo yay.  And going back to The Banner Saga, the character Bastion can take part in even fewer encounters than that!  But still technically more than 1, I suppose.

But even if it’s not always as bad as the scenario I described, there are a few RPGs for which I wasn’t exaggerating.  I Am Setsuna’s Fides, who inspired this rant, quite literally does only join you exactly before the final boss of the game.*  

Yeah, thanks for the timely assist, asshole, I don’t know how we would’ve made it without you.

I really don’t understand what the reasoning is behind this trope 90% of the time.  First of all, it’s a dumb move for a genre so primarily built around character interactions, development, and dynamics as a vehicle of storytelling.  Yes, sure, Magus has had a major part in the game’s events thus far, so he’s been around as a character to the extent that he can be.  But for most cases, the game doesn’t have enough time to tie these last-minute characters emotionally to its whole in any memorable way.  Alfrun, for example, has a lot of exposition and dialogue with other characters during her brief time in The Banner Saga’s main events, and she certainly has her own personality and history of note, but without having been involved in any previous chapter of this epic’s many trials and tribulations, she feels, at the end of the day, like a helpful, likable, but ultimately disconnected outsider to the game’s actors.  Useful and important, sure, a part of the team, no.  Chester basically has just enough time in ToP’s waning story to establish a weird love-hate, very unconvincing romance thing with Arche, and very little else.  And it’s a huge shame for a character like Sonya, because the dynamic of her having been in love with protagonist Tir's father (whom Tir  killed during Suikoden 1’s story) and resenting Tir for it, yet being willing to join his side of the war for the good of the nation, could have provided a lot of really great material to work with had she been recruited early enough to capitalize on its potential.

Second, these last-minute characters are a dumb move for a medium built around devising and fine-tuning one’s method of playing.  Why does Lemon (what a dumb name for an antagonist-turned-hero, or, really, just about anyone) in Shining Force 2 join you just a few battles before the game’s over?  You’ve had almost the entire game to get a feel for the units at your command by then, you’ve built them up and equipped them with what agency you’re able; you know the fighting force’s strengths, abilities, and limitations, and understand how to work with and around them.  And then, right at the end of the game, you’re thrown 1 more potential tool, and you suddenly have to decide whether you want to ignore him in favor of the full team you’re familiar with, or utilize him for his unique and useful qualities, but consequently have to determine which of the characters you know and crafted within your team must be left on the sidelines as a result.

In a game where party selection substantially affects your gameplay strategies thanks to the variety of cooperative techniques party members have with each other, and where there’s a decently significant element of customization when it comes to battle skills, what is the damn point of I Am Setsuna’s Fides?  Yeah, I spent the entire game becoming familiar with and fine-tuning the other 6 party members to work as a unit exactly to the play style I want, but why not throw all that out of the window and take this new guy out for a test run right as the game’s ending?  Because that makes lots of sense.

I’m not asking for an RPG’s entire cast to be assembled and rarin’ to go by the time the game’s opening is finished.  In fact, that can even be a little boring--Wild Arms 1’s cast was pretty lackluster to start with, and not having any hope of seeing more party members come and liven things up later on didn’t help.  Being able to look forward to the personalities who will join a quest, and the circumstances around their recruitment, is a fun part of RPGs.  But I think it’s probably a good rule of thumb that by right around the halfway mark of your game, the whole party should be formed, because past that point, characters’ stories should be heading toward resolution, not just starting, and their relationships to one another and the plot should be well on their way to the final, cemented overall dynamic.  And past that point, it stops being a novelty and starts being an annoyance to start tweaking your gameplay strategies and dynamics around all over again to test out and potentially incorporate this new dimension.  RPGs should start operating on university rules here: you show up late for class, you don’t get in.


















* Okay, okay, so you CAN, after getting Fides, exit the final dungeon, and there are a few very short story sidequests to engage in before the final battle, similar to Chrono Trigger, which is almost certainly intentional, given the influence CT clearly had on IAS.  Unlike CT, though, you’re never given any narrative nudge or even hint that there’s anything more left to the game than the last battle...and most of the endgame sidequests are just talking to someone, beating a special enemy, and calling it a day., so no matter how generously you want to view the situation, it’s really not very different than how I described it.