Eternity Pillars of Eternity 2: Deadfire + DLC Thread - now with turn-based combat!

[Safav Hamon]

I believe this is supposed to be Durance and the Godhammer

TT1 was right about there being Minotaurs

 

[Sentinel]

Well that looked interesting. If the whole story is the God needing the help of the party to contain some beast that escapes every X years, that's a better hook than the main game. I liked the dragon being dragged away by some portal shit but then I noticed it's just a reskin of your generic PoE1 dragon with satan horns which is sad. Hope this one isn't a variation of "rawr rawr me bad me ugly me evil me destroy" at least.

 

[Ulfhednar]

All roads lead to IWD.

 

[Ulfhednar]

Area design is good, but looks rehashed. Nice main assets, but very limited details and touch ups.

 

[J_C]

The narrator in this trailer gives me the chills. Sounds cool.

 

[fantadomat]

I am more exited for this than PoE:

 

[Roguey]

"Fantastic"? Very low standard, even for an Obsidian fanboy.

The art looks fine, though it's certainly Tyranny-esque. Given how quickly they have to rush all this DLC out, they couldn't spend a lot of time on higher-poly higher-res maps and such, and they've mentioned what a time-consuming process it is.

 

[BING XI LAO]

Mentioning Durance is nice.

 

[Infinitron]

 

[imweasel]

Launch Trailer

This looks really cool and the presentation is top notch! Exactly what I would expect from a fantasy RPG.



The base game should have been like this, but they went with that stupid fucking "Muh Sid Meier's Pirates!" theme instead...

But alas, everything else including Sawyer's derp-derp-derp ruleset and combat will be shit. Such a shame, because it looks really nice.

 

[Azarkon]

You're 100% right. But what is it, exactly, that makes the POE universe so boring and repulsive? I can't figure it out.

Is it the lack of anything actually "cool"? There's not a single original idea, just old ideas spelled funny. "Fampyre"... seriously?

Or it could be that there's no sympathetic or badass factions that make you think, "I want to be on THEIR side". NV had that, and the NCR Ranger on the cover art probably earned a lot of sales on his own. Skyrim didn't have much going storywise but could start debates on whether the stormcloaks or imperials were in the right. Even in Tyranny, from the little I played before giving up from the shit combat, the Red Chorus and legion guys both seemed interesting.

And POE doesn't even have a single character who looks exciting. Seeing a companion portrait gallery, there's nobody to make a player think "I want to play as THAT guy". Compare to companion galleries of PST or even BG2. Again, even Skyrim's generic male warrior with the horned helmet has appeal. Who is the mascot of POE? For somebody browsing Steam who's never heard of Obsidian or BG before, who's going to draw their eye? Eder, with his doofus grin and ugly scale armor? The little green cat man? Or Aloth, with no distinctive features whatsoever?

An old post, but an important one, and one that bears analysis. This is going to be a long one, because I've been allowing these thoughts to sit for a while.

For me, the failures of Pillars of Eternity's writing had to do with the game's lack of imagination, on one hand, and its lack of character, on the other. The former explains its deficiency relative to games like Planescape: Torment, while the latter explains its deficiency relative to games like Baldur's Gate 2.

Of these two, character is actually easier to achieve. Irenicus isn't original or profound - he's a typical power hungry wizard - but he's got character through his voice acting, his manners, and his behavior. The guy exudes alpha male status and pushes all the right buttons to make you want to knock him down. The narrative in Baldur's Gate 2 isn't about understanding or sympathizing with Irenicus. It's about you, the player, getting stronger and stronger until you can kick his ass. It's a power fantasy, and Irenicus is a measuring stick for your dick, such that when you finally defeat him in hell, your satisfaction derives from having replaced him as the top dog. The game's able to achieve this because it's done an expert job of setting Irenicus up to be the alpha antagonist, such that by the end of the game, you believe in his status and is invested in tearing it down.

By contrast, Thaos - and for that matter, Melissan, the weakest villain in the series - never achieved this status because they are invisible for the vast majority of the game, and though a similar sort of arrogance runs in them, as does in Irenicus, the narrative does not allow them to express it very well. Their characters are under developed by the time you execute them, and the vast majority of their character development happens in the final conversation, so that there isn't a chance to reinforce them. Irenicus, by contrast, receives dozens of character development opportunities through the early interactions, the dream sequences, the betrayal of a major character, etc.

For more examples, just take a look at Japanese games and how they repeat the same old archetypes over and over and over, but manage to execute them well enough that people fall for it again and again and again. It's not about being original. It's about inducing certain emotional reactions from the player through successfully executing a character type designed to generate those reactions. Sephiroth, for example, is the Japanese Irenicus, and you'll notice that his development happens in exactly the same way - from an early establishment of his alpha male status, to repeated reinforcement through his very visible actions, manners, and behaviors, and eventually, to the final confrontation in which you fuck him up and snatch that alpha status from him. It's a powerful fantasy. He even steals your girl to make it even more obvious.

The side characters work the same way. The Japanese are obsessed with certain archetypes, like the ever present tsundere, whose purpose is basically to play hard to get, so as to produce a feeling of accomplishment in the player when he finally gets past her cold exterior and gets on her sweet side. This works because it exploits fundamental principles of human - in this case, male - psychology, and is accordingly executed so as to push those buttons. Understanding when and how to use such character types is central to the duty of a narrative designer. Inventing new character archetypes is a bonus, but you must first know how to walk, before you can run.

So we've established Pillars of Eternity's developers doesn't quite know how to build effective characters. Now we come to the more difficult problem: the lack of imagination. On the surface, Pillars of Eternity is imaginative - its premise is original, and its themes are innovative. Nobody in CRPGs has dealt with a motif like "what if we can be assured of nothing" before, and barely anyone has tackled the problem of fantasy religions being artificial.

Yet, these creative concepts aren't developed in an imaginative way. In fact, the opposite: the originality of Pillars of Eternity's concepts are squandered by the banality of their execution. To understand this, we should first look at an example of when Pillars of Eternity does reach the heights it's promised. The moments in which the game manages to capture your - or, at the minimum, mine - imagination with a sense of wonder and awe.

The meeting with Hylea in the Council of Stars was one such moment:

You kneel. While you pray, your feel the space around your body shift and melt, and you find yourself in a vision of the mountaintop temple. Yet you see neither worshipers nor a dragon, but a tree.

Its limbs wrap around the perimeter of the temple, tapering into twigs and branches of all sizes and angles. They seem too long and too numerous to be held up by the meager trunk, but they hold steady in the breeze.

A single sparrow lands on the nearest branch. It watches you.

"I seek an audience with Hylea."

Your whistle the first tune that pops into your head. The sparrow blinks its beady eyes and hops closer to you along the branch.

It bobs its tiny head and opens its beak, and the rich, trilling melody that spills forth is the song of a chorus of birds.

A massive flock descends with a thundering of wings and whooping, screeching, chirping calls. They fill the boughs of the tree by the thousands, birds of every shape, size, and color nestling next to one another.

A breeze ripples through the air. The limbs sway, creaking with a strange, gentle rhythm. A few hundred of the birds flit from their branches, forming a brilliantly variegated flock in front of the tree. As they meet and swoop in unison, you catch a glimpse of someone looking back at you, cloaked by the flurry of feathers.

...

"Choose restoration, Watcher. Return the souls to the bodies they were stolen from. Swear to me that you will do this, and I shall give you power to make even Woedica quake."

Great wings, dark against the sun, unfold behind the tree, casting a blinding shadow across the temple for the briefest of moments.

"I can be merciful and terrible, Watcher."

"I swear to return the souls to the Hollowborn children of the Dyrwood."

"And I shall remember." The dark wings snap shut, and the tiny sparrow flits to your shoulder. It tilts its head back and opens its break, and the song that sills forth is like nothing you've ever heard.

Melodies, at once mournful and beautiful, entrance you. The world becomes a place of pure color and sound. Each perfect moment follows the next like the lines of a poem or the bar of a song.

The sheer imagery here is arresting. I remember picturing the open air of the temple on top the mountain, the fluttering of thousands of birds, the ancient tree sitting beneath a clear sky, the dark wings spreading behind it like a terrible mystery... The idea that Hylea's true form is this vista - that she isn't your cliche goddess woman in a wild dress, but this scene - lit a fire in my imagination, and I thought at the time: this is different and amazing, worthy of a meeting with a god.

Unfortunately, moments like the above were few and far in between, and almost strictly limited to the Council of Stars and the events in its immediate vicinity. 99% of the game consisted of hurpa dwerpa and tedious treks through medieval villages, towns, and dungeons. The vast majority of quests were completely banal, the politics stupid, and the ideas mundane, especially given that this was a world in which souls were a substance that could be manipulated, transferred, revived and destroyed. The best way to describe it, is as though 99% of the game was written by hacks, while 1% was written by a proper master of fantasy who tried to lift the game's writing above its grueling mediocrity, but couldn't because of all the weight holding it down.

The problem becomes especially obvious when you compare it to an exemplary case, like Planescape: Torment, where almost every aspect of the game's fantastic setting is realized in an imaginative manner. From people falling through portals to different worlds, to the odd denizens of Sigil and their strange problems, to the side characters that are never normal, to the fact that you are an immortal and your main antagonist is your own mortality and past incarnations, to the constant subversion of common CRPG tropes, Planescape: Torment set the bar high. It's not just a few brushes of brilliance here and there - the vast majority of Planescape: Torment kept up the sense of awe and wonder. This is the sort of consistency you need to sell a game based on its writing alone - and Pillars of Eternity never came close.

A lack of imagination is one of the most crippling problems fantasy writing can have, since it's the very definition of fantasy. This isn't a fault of the game's design, its mechanics, its marketing, its audience, its medium, or its production values. It's solely a fault of the writers and their inability to reach the heights necessary to engross the audience. Fantasy, like all imaginative fiction, is supposed to inspire a feeling of wonder and awe, of new possibilities and frontiers of experience. What you describe in common speech as "cool" captures it well, and without a better way of putting it, that's exactly it - there just weren't many "cool" moments in the game. That's the problem with purple prose, in the first place - it's a way of disguising the fact that the subject itself lacks any genuine substance.

Which makes reading it, a waste of time, and that, unfortunately, describes the writing in these games.

 

[santino27]

Unfortunately, moments like the above were few and far in between, and almost strictly limited to the Council of Stars and the events in its immediate vicinity. 99% of the game consisted of hurpa dwerpa and tedious treks through medieval villages, towns, and dungeons. The vast majority of quests were completely banal, the politics stupid, and the ideas mundane, especially given that this was a world in which souls were a substance that could be manipulated, transferred, revived and destroyed. The best way to describe it, is as though 99% of the game was written by hacks, while 1% was written by a proper master of fantasy who tried to lift the game's writing above its grueling mediocrity, but couldn't because of all the weight holding it down.

Unfortunately, the writer of said sequence became the lead writer of deadfire, and based on that game... well, let's just say your hypothesis of her being a "proper master of fantasy" might need to be rethought.

 

[imweasel]

I just can't get over the fact that Josh decided to neuter the main quest as some sort of individualistic screed against heroic fantasy norms. Bad enough that he felt the pirate/souls game was a great time to (very very superficially) explore/analyze early colonialism, but then he also decided player agency was basically unimportant. And he can't understand why people are bothered by that?

Sawyer is renowned for making decisions that nobody really understands. He is the elephant in the porcelain shop of CRPG development.

The GREAT Gary Gygax should be reanimated so he can bitch slap some sense into Sawyer.

 

[Safav Hamon]

I find these wordy examinations of PoE1's writing more boring and pretentious than the game itself.

 

[Lilura]

The GREAT Gary Gygax should be reanimated so he can bitch slap some sense into Sawyer.

Why would a combatfag give a damn about what a storyfag does, though? The latter are irrelevant.

 

[Azarkon]

Unfortunately, moments like the above were few and far in between, and almost strictly limited to the Council of Stars and the events in its immediate vicinity. 99% of the game consisted of hurpa dwerpa and tedious treks through medieval villages, towns, and dungeons. The vast majority of quests were completely banal, the politics stupid, and the ideas mundane, especially given that this was a world in which souls were a substance that could be manipulated, transferred, revived and destroyed. The best way to describe it, is as though 99% of the game was written by hacks, while 1% was written by a proper master of fantasy who tried to lift the game's writing above its grueling mediocrity, but couldn't because of all the weight holding it down.

Unfortunately, the writer of said sequence became the lead writer of deadfire, and based on that game... well, let's just say your hypothesis of her being a "proper master of fantasy" might need to be rethought.

I haven't played the sequel, but what I described there doesn't necessarily have to do with any particular person. The game felt as though it was split between a tiny amount of fantastic writing, and a vast sea of mundane boredom. Inconsistency, however, can just as well exist in a single writer, and in this case, it must be severe inconsistency indeed.

As I said above, it is the consistency of quality that marks the best written games. Had it been the case that Planescape: Torment only had a few moments of brilliance, nobody would regard it highly, either. Pillars of Eternity had moments in which the writing was excellent; but these were brief and easily passed over, especially since you've been dealing with hurpa dwerpa for hours before reaching them.

 

[Tenebris]

So we're getting another unique Priest subclass from this dlc. Sure hope it'll be playable for the Watcher too.

 

[Lyre Mors]

While the writing does little to hold it up, what draws me into Deadfire is the unique for a CRPG setting. As mentioned before in this thread, it shines in the cultural interaction and sense of lived-in locality. I like the factions, I like seeing them interacting, and I like to see how they walk all over the locals in pursuit of their own intrigues and squabbles. It's no surprise that I've barely touched any of the main questline, and that when I think about the fun I'm having in the game, I'm thinking about these situations and not chasing down a god. I know some have been extremely down on the Pirates and Seafaring setting, but I've actually been impressed by how it didn't just degrade into a straight-up pirate game, and ended up as an intriguing mix of the fantasy elements from PoE and Pacific-esque island culture.

I know it'll be an unpopular opinion around here, but the Deadfire setting is what kept this game fun and fresh to explore for me. I'm actually torn now, because I planned on stopping supporting Obsidian after I played PoE II (because I had figstarted it long before all the information was dropped by Chris Avellone), but I really do feel compelled to check out these DLC that are coming. Beast of Winter looks promising to me.

 

[Safav Hamon]

The pirate aspect is greatly exaggerated. There's one pirate faction and two pirate themed locations.

 

[Lyre Mors]

The pirate aspect is greatly exaggerated. There's one pirate faction and two pirate themed locations.

It's certainly emphasized, and I didn't say it wasn't. But it still didn't degrade into a straight-up pirate game, and there was plenty besides pirates to see.

 

[santino27]

Unfortunately, moments like the above were few and far in between, and almost strictly limited to the Council of Stars and the events in its immediate vicinity. 99% of the game consisted of hurpa dwerpa and tedious treks through medieval villages, towns, and dungeons. The vast majority of quests were completely banal, the politics stupid, and the ideas mundane, especially given that this was a world in which souls were a substance that could be manipulated, transferred, revived and destroyed. The best way to describe it, is as though 99% of the game was written by hacks, while 1% was written by a proper master of fantasy who tried to lift the game's writing above its grueling mediocrity, but couldn't because of all the weight holding it down.

Unfortunately, the writer of said sequence became the lead writer of deadfire, and based on that game... well, let's just say your hypothesis of her being a "proper master of fantasy" might need to be rethought.

I haven't played the sequel, but what I described there doesn't necessarily have to do with any particular person. The game felt as though it was split between a tiny amount of fantastic writing, and a vast sea of mundane bore. Inconsistency, however, can just as well exist in a single writer, and in this case, it must be severe inconsistency indeed.

As I said above, it is the consistency of quality that marks the best written games. Had it been the case that Planescape: Torment only had a few moments of brilliance, nobody would regard it highly, either. Pillars of Eternity had moments in which the writing was excellent; but these were brief and easily passed over, especially since you've been dealing with hurpa dwerpa for hours before reaching them.

I just meant that Carrie Patel wrote that sequence, and was then made the lead writer on Deadfire. If she were indeed the major talent you were suggesting, then surely there'd be some incline in Deadfire. Instead, I'd say the writing as a whole took even more of a nosedive.

 

[Lyre Mors]

I just meant that Carrie Patel wrote that sequence, and was then made the lead writer on Deadfire. If she were indeed the major talent you were suggesting, then surely there'd be some incline in Deadfire. Instead, I'd say the writing as a whole took even more of a nosedive.

Something tells me that Carrie Patel wasn't able to wrangle in and seriously criticize the unfortunate writing team she ended up with. A major flaw for someone who is supposed to be in charge of that shit. I just imagine their narrative meetings as really bad creative writing college courses, with her as the "professor" who doesn't care to bother to criticize her oversensitive students anymore. Or is just desensitized to shit writing. Or both.

 

[Safav Hamon]

If I remember correctly Carrie Patel designed the Gullet, which has some of the best atmosphere and worldbuilding in the game.

 

[Safav Hamon]

If she were indeed the major talent you were suggesting, then surely there'd be some incline in Deadfire. Instead, I'd say the writing as a whole took even more of a nosedive.

The writing is good overall. The main plot could of had better execution (blame Josh Sawyer), but I generally enjoy the setting, characters, quests, and lore. I'd say it's a major incline over the first game.

 

[Lyre Mors]

The writing is good overall. The main plot could of had better execution (blame Josh Sawyer), but I generally enjoy the setting, characters, quests, and lore. I'd say it's a major incline over the first game.

I would agree with this in general, except for the amateurish shoe-horning in of cultural dialect (listen, we don't need to be reminded that this is a Vailian we are speaking to EVERY OTHER LINE) and the equally cringe-worthy frequency with which character bring up their sexual preferences. It's totally cool and makes perfect sense that straight, gay and bisexual people exist in this setting, but have some tact in addressing it or don't address it at all. Neither of these examples are enough to condemn the game as having the "worst CRPG writing," but they certainly detract and draw attention to the inexperience of the writing team. Or the possible mismanagement of that writing team.