Welcome to the next dissection of Dragon Age lore, esteemed leaders. This time, I’ll tackle a topic that falls somewhat to the wayside: dwarves, and related matters—the Titans, and lyrium.
At first glance, Dragon Age dwarves are rather typical. They’re short and tough, and they live underground. They make magic weapons, and many of their men have beards. They resist magic, and cannot become mages. As it often happens with the franchise, though, it’s not quite as simple when you zoom in a little closer. The core of the dwarves’ identity is made up of two things: their ability to mine lyrium and enchant… and the fact that they’re teetering on the brink of extinction.
Society, or What’s Left of It
By the time Dragon Age: Origins begins, the dwarven civilization consists of two cities—Orzammar, and Kal Sharok. We never see the latter, however. There are vague mentions of it in the first two games. In Dragon Age: Inquisition, there is an option to make contact with them, but it only happens through a war table operation. All we know is that they managed to survive after the dwarves in Orzammar chose to abandon all other cities and thaigs and retreat. Needless to say, they hold just a bit of a grudge over being left to fend off endless darkspawn.
We know that the dwarves had a massive empire before the First Blight. It spanned the entire Thedas… or rather, below it. They built cities, created enchanted wonders and traded with the Tevinter Imperium. The Darkspawn ended it all. They overran the Deep Roads and all the cities and thaigs. Thus, Thedosian dwarves are effectively a post-apocalyptic society. They lived through the end of the world.
Orzammar became the capital of the dwarven empire some time before the First Blight—the former seat of power being Kal-Sharok. Afterwards, it became the place the survivors of the dwarven people ran to. Orzammar now clings to life, holding the Darkspawn at bay, selling lyrium to the surface world and desperately striving to keep the old traditions alive.
The obsession with tradition, rules and roles is something we encounter over and over in Orzammar. Dwarven society divides itself into castes: Noble, Warrior, Smith, Artisan, Miner, Merchant and Servant. Then there are casteless, who are right square on the bottom. Those dwarves who live on the surface likewise have no caste.
As you’d expect from a caste system, it’s very rigid and inflexible. A dwarf’s caste determines their social standing and role; deviating from them is discouraged, to put it mildly. Dwarves don’t have religion, as such. They venerate the concept of the Stone, which surrounds them and supports them. Dwarves come from the Stone, and return to it after death. Good dwarves strengthen it, and wicked ones weaken it.
The casteless aren’t technically the “lowest” caste, as they have no role, standing or place in society. The Stone rejects them, and they’re effectively criminals by dint of birth. It’s no surprise that their career options begin and end with organized crime or cheap, illegal labour. Which the upper castes are more than willing to use them for. Dwarves who leave for the surface become casteless by definition… but Orzammar couldn’t survive without them. They’re the ones who run the lyrium trade, both legal and illegal. There’s a whole diaspora of dwarves on the surface, but we see very little of it outside organized crime.
It’s not a pretty picture that I’ve painted here. The last remaining dwarven city that we actually see is a place rife with inequity, politics and blind devotion to tradition, all sending them into a downwards spiral. What was it like before the Darkspawn happened, however? Let’s dig into what we know.
Origins and Nature
For a long time, the origins of the dwarven species were a mystery. In Dragon Age: Inquisition, particularly the Descent and Trespasser DLC, we find out some pretty heavy facts, finally.
The conclusion of the Trespasser DLC tells us that the dwarves originate from a class of beings named Titans. They shaped the earth with their will, until they fell asleep. In Trespasser, we find out that they were struck down and put to sleep by the ancient elves, and their “gods”.
Dwarves evidently survived the fall of the Titans. It’s very unclear what they were like before the Titans fell. Elven mosaics call them “witless, soulless” workers of the Titans. It’s not exactly a reliable source, considering that the same mosaic proclaimed the elves’ intent to destroy the Titans, and it took Solas, the sole survivor of the ancient world, a while to consider that dwarves might actually be people. But it’s still telling. That being said, the same mosaic says that “their deaths will be a blessing”. If “they” refers to the dwarves, something clearly didn’t go as the elves thought it would.
Another hint for the dwarves’ former nature comes from Dagna, the Inquisition’s arcanist. When she analyzes pieces of the Fade that the Inquisitor brings back from the place, she experiences strange things. She felt huge, like a mountain, and “thought all the thoughts”. She was “around all her people”, and “her thoughts were all of theirs”. Tellingly, she speculates that it might be what the Stone feels like.
It’s hopelessly cryptic, but becomes clearer once we’ve finished Descent. I think dwarves were linked with the titans’ bodies as part of a hive mind, of sorts. This connection broke when the Titans fell. Which brings me to a theory a friend of mine and I formulated. Namely… perhaps the dwarves’ current caste system is a faint echo of their functions within a Titan’s body. It doesn’t seem like a coincidence—a race of beings who used to be part of a massive organism now have rigid social roles.
The question then becomes, what did happen to dwarves after the Titans fell? It seems like there are two major breakpoints in their history, one being the First Blight, and the other, the fall of the Titans. By the time the games take place, Titans are a children’s tale at best. Shaper Valta, who accompanies us throughout the questline, says she had found mentions of them in two places: a bedtime story, and a book that predates the First Blight. She believes the Shaperate, who chronicle dwarven history in lyrium runes, might have intentionally erased knowledge of the Titans.
If that is true… why? And when? The Shaperate is not above erasing memories when someone powerful enough demands it. If Bhelen became king in Dragon Age: Origins, he has the Shaperate remove his allies’ Carta affiliations. So what purpose could someone have had in hiding the Titans from the dwarves’ memories? Was it political? Or did they truly think it was for the best? Did it happen before or after the First Blight brought them to the brink of extinction?
I’m leaning towards it happening after the First Blight, and here is why. In Dragon Age 2, we visit the Primeval Thaig. There, we find red lyrium, which has such far-reaching consequences later on. But we also find evidence that the dwarves worshiped deities of some sort, something unthinkable to modern dwarves. We also encounter rock wraiths, also known as the Profane. According to dwarven lore, they’re dwarves so corrupt the Stone rejected them, but here’s what the Codex has to say:
We who are forgotten, remember,
We clawed at rock until our fingers bled,
We cried out for justice, but were unheard.
Our children wept in hunger,
And so we feasted upon the gods.
Here we wait, in aeons of silence.
We few, we profane.
Feasted upon the gods…there’s only one thing it could possibly mean. The tabletop Dragon Age RPG even explicitly states that rock wraiths feed on lyrium veins. And as we find out in Descent, lyrium is the Titans’ blood.
Therefore, I think it’s possible dwarves may have worshipped the Titans as gods at some point—maybe not all, but some. We see no mention of it in what little records we have that predate the First Blight, but it would disappear along with the mentions of Titans themselves. Did it happen because someone thought the Titans failed their people? Or was it a power-grab? My friend and I have theorized that the dwarven Shaperate are descendants of a forgotten priest-caste, but it’s just wild speculation on our part.
The Matter of Lyrium
That being said, “Stone sense” is a very real thing. Dwarves have an innate sense of direction and orientation underground. Some more than others, and the Shaperate recruits those who display it particularly strongly. The Miner caste is said to often have an uncanny way of finding lyrium veins.
Lyrium keeps coming up, again and again. Affinity to it is one of the dwarves’ innate traits, along with the stone-sense, resistance to magic, inability to perform magic, and inability to dream. Dwarves who live on the surface lose their stone-sense, and according to background materials, their resistance to magic as well…not that it stops Inquisitor Cadash from resisting magic. Their connection to lyrium remains, though. They can handle it safely, unlike the surface races.
It would be easy to link the dwarves’ disconnection from the Fade to lyrium, but mages use lyrium to enhance and empower the magic they draw from the Fade. Lyrium potions restore mana or increase magic power when used by the player-controlled characters. It can also serve as a power source for more complex and demanding spells.
And yet, dwarves aren’t the only one who resist magic and the Fade. Templars and Tranquil come to mind. According to Dagna’s ramblings, Tranquil aren’t like dwarves… but also are, because they do work lyrium and resist its harmful effects. Could it be they approach the same problem from opposite sides? Well, Dagna puts it best herself: we have answers that aren’t answers.
Templars, on the other hand, are likened to dwarves on multiple occasions. Cole, a spirit of compassion, says that dwarves are quiet, but with the old song still echoing inside, like Templars. The “old song” being the call of the Titans, most likely. Cole says that the Templars’ bodies become incomplete, and yearn for something bigger than they are. Thus, magic has no room to come in.
This yearning is the cause of the addiction that plagues the Templar Order. Ser, an enigmatic man who teaches the Inquisitor in the Templar skills, says:
“Inside, there’s something you don’t know you possess. Becoming a Templar will make you keenly aware. […] Once you are accustomed, that… something… will get hungry.”
This is more or less what Cole says. Lyrium awakens something in Templars, makes them yearn for something they don’t even know. The Titans. It’s not quite the same as what dwarves experience. The little folk can’t actively deny magic the way Templars can, while Templars can still dream, as far as we know.
This raises implications, though. A member of any species can become a Templar, even if most of them are humans. Does it mean all of them have some sort of bond with the Titans, on some level? Or does the lyrium forge such a bond?
Regardless of the answer to that, we know that lyrium grants Templars their abilities by allowing them to reinforce reality. They push the Fade away, preventing it from gaining a foothold; magic has no room to come in. According to Cullen, an ex-Templar struggling with lyrium dependency, those abilities become as instinctive as using a weapon, eventually.
So in some way, lyrium is an antithesis to the Fade. Tranquility, the process in which a person is cut off from the Fade, is accomplished with a lyrium brand. And yet, like I said, lyrium also empowers magic. It creates enchanted items, and gives mages more power.
Lyrium is a very precious commodity, for obvious reasons. But I think it’s even more important than its economic value would suggest. It seems obvious that it links to some fundamental truths about the Dragon Age universe. And dwarves share that link. Let’s hope the Titans’ wayward children receive more development in the coming material.
Images courtesy of BioWare
Keeping Kosher In Monster Hunter World
Monster Hunter World is the best selling game in its series, with over 7.5 million units shipped. There are many reasons for this: The game is more accessible for new players, it’s not just on a handheld console anymore, there was actually some marketing push for this game…the list goes on.
However, I personally think one of the reasons the game is so popular is its food eating cutscenes. Before you go on a hunt, you can eat a meal at a canteen that gives you buffs. You’re also treated to an adorable and very tasty looking cutscene of the Palicoes (a cat like race that helps you hunt monsters) making your meal. The details are so lavish and the end product looks so good I couldn’t help thinking about it off and on for weeks. And one question that kept recurring was, “Would any of this food be Kosher?”
Kosher foods, for those of you who may not know, are foods that conform to the Jewish kashrut (dietary law). The word treif describes any food that does not abide by this law. Determining what foods are Kosher or not can get complicated since different groups of animals have different rules. At its most basic though, there are three groups of animals: land, flying, and fish (invertebrates as a rule are treif). Conveniently enough, most monsters in Monster Hunter World could fit under the same categories. We’ll go through each category and examine a few monsters from the game to decide if any (or all) of them can be Kosher.
Before we begin though, I’d like to give major props to one of our editors, Gretchen. Before I wrote this article, I knew next to nothing about what makes a food Kosher or not. Gretchen not only educated me, but did a lot of the heavy lifting, and for that I am grateful.
The first monster up for discussion is called Uragaan. Uragaan lives mostly in volcanic regions and is identifiable its large chin, its shiny, lustrous golden hide, and the spikes along its back. It consumes mostly bedrock and those large spikes on its back are actually crystals. It produces a sticky, tar like substance on its stomach, which it uses to attach explosive rocks to itself as a means of defense. If someone were to knock down or kill Uragaan, they’d be able to mine the vast mineral wealth on it’s back…but they wouldn’t be able to eat it, as Uragaan isn’t Kosher.
In order for a land animal to be Kosher, it has to meet three basic requirements. First, it can not be a carnivore or a scavenger. It can not eat meat. Second, it must have a split hoof. Horses aren’t Kosher, but animals like cattle and sheep are. Finally, the animal must chew its cud. Pigs have split hooves, but they don’t chew their cud and thus are not Kosher. Uragaan meets the first rule, but fails with the second and third. As such, Uragaan can never be Kosher.
The next monster up is Kirin. Kirin resembles a unicorn or (more accurately) a Chinese Qilin. It has a single large horn growing out of its head, with a white mane and tail that seem to stand on end from static electricity. It’s body appears to have fur, but those actually are scales. Kirin also seems to crackle with electricity as it walks. Looking at the picture we can see clearly that it has a split hoof. The game doesn’t tell us what it eats or if it chews its cud, but if we extrapolate what it looks like and compare to say, an antelope or a deer (both of which are Kosher) we can safely assume that Kirin is Kosher as well, right? Wrong.
Kirin fails to be Kosher not by the quality of the animal, but by the quality of its behavior. You see, Kirin belongs to a group of monsters called Elder Dragons and these monsters, in addition to being tougher the ordinary monsters, are immune to traps and tranqs unlike other monsters. This presents a problem, as in order for meat be Kosher, the butchering must happen in one swift action using a sharp knife. Shooting the creature with an automatic repeating crossbow is not the way to do it. Kirin, unfortunately, is not Kosher for this reason.
We come now to the last land based monster in this article: The Kelbi. Kelbi, unlike the monsters mentioned thus far, are not aggressive. They are small, and the males are usually green in color while the females and juveniles are blue. Males also have large, prominent horns while female horns are smaller. In-game, Kelbi horns are medicinal, and players make potions out of them. I’m also happy to report that Kelbi might be our first (possibly) Kosher monster.
Like Kirin, Kelbi has a split hoof. We also know that Kelbi are herbivores, but it is unknown whether or not Kelbi chew their cud. Extrapolating and comparing them to real world deer and goats though, we can have more confidence that Kelbi are, in fact, Kosher.
Now we will discuss birds. According to Jewish tradition, animals that fly and are not insects are birds. Thus animals such as bats are ‘birds’ in regards to Kosher rules. The rules for birds themselves are fairly simple. They can’t be predatory or scavengers. This rule immediately rules out the next monster on the list: Rathalos.
Rathalos is known as the “King of the Sky” and is the male counterpart to Rathian, another flying monster. Rathalos are bipedal wyverns, primarily red in color, with sharp, poisonous claws that they use to hunt with. In addition to that, they have a flame sac that they use to produce flaming projectiles from, and their long thick tail has a club at the end of it. But as I mentioned in the previous paragraph, no birds of prey can be Kosher.
The next monster on the list is one of the oddest in the game. Pukei-Pukei resembles at first glance a giant chameleon with frog like eyes, wings, and green scales covering its body everywhere except around its wings and neck, where it has feathers. The Pukei-Pukei is an herbivore and it will eat poisonous plants so it can produce a poison to defend itself. Despite all of these peculiar traits, Pukei-Pukei appears to be Kosher.
I was surprised to hear Gretchen tell me this, as I thought there would be no way a monster as weird as Pukei-Pukei could be considered Kosher. But as she laid the case out it began to make more sense. Despite some reptilian traits, Pukei-Pukei has more avian traits, and that classifies it as a creature of the air under the kashrut. As a creature of the air, it has to meat a few specifications. It does not scavenge like a vulture, nor does it hunt like a bird of prey. Thus, Pukei-Pukei meets the requirements.
And By Sea
There aren’t very many sea monsters in Monster Hunter World sadly. Only one of them really seems like it would count. And this one is Jyuratodus. Jyuratodus resembles nothing more than a bipedal coelacanth fish. It has two dorsal fins, two pectoral fins, two pelvic fins, and a long, thick tail that it can use to defend itself. It also covers itself in mud and other ooze, to act as another layer of defense and to possibly keep its gills and scales damp. Fortunately for us, practically the only water based monster in this game is also Kosher.
For a sea animal to be considered Kosher, it must have fins and scales that can be removed. This generally means that the stereotypical fish is allowed, but not animals such as eel, lobster, squid or crab. Jyuratodus, despite its size and aggression does have fins and scales and would be Kosher.
The Hunt Goes On…
So what are we left with from this list? Two monsters that could be considered Kosher, three that are not, and one that might be, if it chews cud. And this is only a small sample of the monsters in the game. Not only that, but Capcom has plans to release more monsters as free DLC over the upcoming months. When the PC version of the game is out, I might revisit this article and expand on it. Until then though, happy hunting and bon appétit!
Images Courtesy of Capcom
Hopes and Fears for Deadfire
The release of Pillars of Eternity: Deadfire, the sequel to an old-school RPG that’s close to my heart, was pushed back a month. An unfortunate state of affairs, to be sure, but tolerable if it gives the developers the time to eliminate bugs. It also gave me time to undertake another play-through of the original. This time, as a female dwarf druid from the Deadfire Archipelago, just to see if it becomes relevant.
And for those of us who appreciate traditional, yet forward-looking RPGs as I do, I’d like to talk a bit about what I hope and worry about in the sequel. Unfortunately, I was unable to get into the player beta that has been going on for some months now, for brutally fiscal reasons. So while I kept close tabs on the testers were saying, I must avoid making authoritative statements.
Instead, I’m going to cover some big topics that occur to me as I play Pillars of Eternity again and wait for Deadfire. Those are, in no particular order…
Spells: rest or encounter?
First things first: since I play a full spellcaster as my main character for the first time, I already can’t wait for Deadfire’s upgrade to spells with per-encounter uses, rather than per-rest. Having spells that only recharge on a full rest stunts the game’s pacing and makes balance very difficult. What we have here is three situations:
- The caster doesn’t use any of their per-rest spells and doesn’t contribute much.
- The caster does contribute without per-rest spells, using per-encounter or passive abilities. Each main casting class has those.
- The caster dominates the encounter with powerful spells.
None of those situations are optimal. If we have either the first or the last, it means two extremes. If the second or the last, then it means those classes’ performance is similar to those with per-encounter or passive abilities, but they also sit on tactical nukes.
There’s really no way to balance it against classes whose abilities are available a number of times every encounter, or entirely passive. It will inevitably swing in the direction of some classes having more impact on the battle than others.
Resting as a pacing mechanic is notoriously unreliable, because the game can’t really control how much we rest. It can dole out camping supplies and make some areas impossible to rest in, but players can bypass it all. In a tabletop game, per-rest encounters will rely on the GM’s willingness and ability to enforce a particular pacing. In a video game…there’s no GM to do that.
This change has met with mixed reception. Aside from those who think it’s dumbing down the game, there have been concerns over insufficient quantity of spells and the fact that they take too long to cast. Meaning the battle might be over by the time you fire off that spell. The latter two are legitimate, and I hope the developers address them.
But regardless of what issues arise from a shift to a per-rest resource management, I really think it’s for the best. Per-rest spells are a relic of old-school D&D that has stuck around by inertia. We can’t be rid of it in D&D, so let’s at least remove it from Pillars.
Health and safety
The health system of Pillars of Eternity is somewhat controversial. Its removal in favor of a more traditional health in the sequel, perhaps more so. The original system measures two health “bars”: endurance and health.
Every time you take damage, you lose both, but while endurance regenerates by itself and through abilities, health doesn’t. You have at least four times as much health as endurance, which means it drops slowly. Once your health becomes lower than maximum endurance, the latter is also lower. Dropping to 0 endurance knocks you out, dropping to 0 health maims you, then kills you.
In theory, I like it. It’s a compromise between old-school unforgiving attrition and a more modern style where everyone gets back to full strength after each battle. But I’m not sure it works so well in practice.
Sometimes it does, and introduces slow sapping of your characters’ strength and forcing you to rest. But at other times, you either avoid damage enough for it not to matter or one character is focus-fired by enemies and their health drops dangerously low. So you have to rest even though everyone else is fine.
This particularly punishes characters who get into the thick of it without necessarily being tough and wearing heavy armor, but also back-like casters or shooters who end up target of enemy attacks. There’s no “taunt” mechanics that would straight-up force enemies to attack certain characters instead of others, either.
Deadfire will remove this duality and simply have health that acts like endurance did. Once you drop to 0, you’re once again knocked out, which results in maximum health dropping by 25%, in addition to injuries. But if it didn’t drop to 0, it will return after the fight just fine.
While I wish they could have tried to strike some sort of compromise and refine the health/endurance system, I can see why they did this instead. The old system was fiddly, random and many players didn’t understand it. Although in the last case I think the problem was with insufficient explanation. The game never tells us in plain terms how it works, so of course it confuses people. But other than that, I can respect their choice of predictable simplicity over continued tinkering.
Matters of romance
We don’t know a lot about romance in Deadfire, only that it will be there. It will also include non-heterosexual relationships, something rather conspicuously absent from the original – with the exception of openly lesbian Maneha and her crush on Pallegina. Whether or not Pallegina reciprocated it is less than clear. She’s flustered by Maneha’s attention, rather than threaten bodily harm as she usually does, so maybe?
This has drawn some ire from people. Some complaints stem from elitism, believing that romances are something from a BioWare game and Obsidian should be better. Others come from a place of homophobia, believing that the existence of non-heterosexual romances are a sign the SJWs are coming.
An actual concern one might raise is accidentally getting our character tangled up in a romance. The developers promise a complex system of inter-personal relationships, where all sorts of interactions will influence them. That’s great…if it works. I expect that they will still be predictable to some degree. But I also worry about accidentally making an NPC attracted to us.
Relationships developing in a way we didn’t expect or plan for is natural, of course. In fact, that’s what the supposed complex network of influence is meant to accomplish. But when it comes to romantic or even sexual matters…I feel it’s different. Having someone suddenly display such interest in your character can be uncomfortable.
We’ve seen it in RPGs before, particularly those from BioWare. That studio eventually adopted a system of making it absolutely clear we’re pursuing a line of dialogue that may develop into a relationship. What will Deadfire do here? Regardless of how they handle it, I do look forward to this new way of tracking relationships and influence among our companions.
One of the major features in the sequel is the ability to mix and match classes. Or, well, not mix and match, really. You can pick two classes and get abilities from both, but at a slower pace. While you will have a broader repertoire, you will get new tiers of abilities later than a single-class character of the same level would get.
I’ve been excited and worried about it ever since its announcement. It has so much potential for customization, but also for breaking the game. The balance team certainly has their hands full with it. By some accounts, single-class characters feel not so much weaker as constrained, compared to multi-classed ones. There’s just not enough abilities to pick from, or ability points to use. There have been some hints on how they plan to fix it, so I hope they do. This is a tremendous opportunity and I look forward to playing a greatsword-wielding Fighter/Rogue.
…and many more
There’s a good deal of other innovations Deadfire will include, but it would really take me a while to discuss them all. The new system for damage reduction and penetrating it, managing your ships, exploring the vast archipelago… this game promises to be huge, and what I discussed here is just the tip of the iceberg,
Whatever happens, Pillars of Eternity: Deadfire promises to stay on the same course of marrying old-school gameplay with innovative, fresh design. I have high hopes for it, with the usual trepidation over their getting dashed to the ground. But that’s just how it goes when a series doesn’t just repeat the same things over and over.
Images courtesy of Obsidian Entertainment
Dialect is an amazing game that asks if dying languages should be saved
Greetings readers! Today will be the first of hopefully many reviews of tabletop role playing games. Some of them more mainstream, and others somewhat obscure. Today’s review is going to be about one of the more obscure titles. The game is Dialect and it is made by Thorny Games. Dialect is about language. Specifically, how languages are born, can grow, change your way of thinking, and how they can die. The team working on it has quite a pedigree, and includes people like David Peterson, who created the fictional languages on Game of Thrones.
Now, full disclosure: This game was on Kickstarter, and I did back it. My review will be based on the initial digital copy of the game I was given after the crowd-funding campaign was successful. I played Dialect with three other people: M, T, and V, none of whom backed the crowd-funding campaign.
Dialect itself is different then a lot of “traditional” tabletop RPGs in that there are no dice, and no GM running the game. All you need are index cards, the five different decks of language cards that come with it, and the rules. Dialect requires three to five players as well, counting yourself.
The first thing the players do when they begin a game of Dialect is picking a backdrop for the game. The backdrop (called an “Isolation” in-game) is what separates this group from the wider world. These Isolations range from the physical (A new colony on Mars) to the cultural (A thieves guild). The Isolation is what lets them develop their language. The language also changes with the Isolation as well, as the next step is to define three different “aspects” about the Isolation. These shape the language, and will vary from game to game. In one example from the book, an aspect for a colony on Mars might be the ever present dust storms. After that the players have to answer questions about their community. These are smaller than the aspects, but still can define how the language will grow and change.
Once the players have answered all the questions, they draw three “archetype” cards, choosing one of them to use. These cards define a role in the isolation, and range from Innocent to Zealot. Leader to Jester. Each archetype has a different relationship with the different aspects. Some relate to only one aspect, some relate to them all. After selecting an aspect, giving a bit of backstory to the character, and determining their name and what others call them, the meat of Dialect can begin.
Each player starts with three cards from the first language deck in their hand. These cards have different word ideas on them. They range from ‘Greeting’ to ‘Bad Omen’ to ‘Filler World’. The player then ties this word to one of the aspects, explaining how the aspect gave rise to this word. It’s at this point that the players can discuss what word fit the best. In the end though, only the person who played the card can decide what the word is. After that, the final step is to have an in-character conversation either using or conspicuously not using the word. The final step has the player draws a card from the second language deck, and play passes to the next person.
After each player has had a turn, the “Era” changes. Now the isolation will have to deal with hints that their way of life is ending. There are three eras. By the end of the third, the Isolation has ended, and the language (Or at least the culture that spoke it) dies.
One of the goals of Dialect is to create a language based on what the players want. And in this, it succeeds spectacularly. The language cards are clear and concise. The round table nature of the game also makes sure that every player has a say. As ‘V’ puts it: ”The floor is pretty much always open for discussion, but it prods every player into the spotlight so nobody gets unintentionally left out. The ‘this is 100% your choice’ questions make you feel more attached to that element of the game.”
Another, smaller aspect of Dialect I particularly enjoyed was how the book (and by extension, the writers) were concerned about player’s comfort levels. They stress repeatedly how the group should know it’s limits, and to avoid situations or scenarios that might be triggering to other players. A lot of games do this nowadays, but few do it as frequently or as early as Dialect does.
Dialect is also open ended enough that it can be useful when used with other settings to define specific cultures. ‘M’ agreed with that sentiment, and added: “I feel like it was less a game in and of itself than one of those generators I see every now and then, to help build a setting or a space marine chapter or whatever else.”
One of the strongest aspects of Dialect is the re-playability. With the randomness of the cards, the different selections of Isolations, and even the contrasting moods of the players, you will have a totally different experience each time. ‘T’ put it best, saying: ”A lot of the games will be different each time. Between the scenarios and the players and the cards, everyone will have a different perspective.”
Dialect is not without its faults. The most prominent of which is the very thrust of it’s premise. A game about how languages die can be very high concept, and that can scare some players away. Another thing that can scare players away is the group role-playing and decision process. Some players are just naturally more timid than others. In ‘T’’s words: “as it stands someone who isn’t comfortable at the sort of ‘rping’ it out probably wouldn’t get the same enjoyment’
Another fault with Dialect that stems from its focus on language is that nearly all it’s focus is on the language. There is very little to help new players get used to roleplaying. There is also very little that helps distinguish between the language creation and the roleplaying aspect. ‘V’ had a bit to say on this: “I think the game’s biggest weakness, from what I played, was the actual roleplaying part. It’s 90% meta, OOC [Out of character] discussion of your language, then you suddenly have to scramble into character and improv on the spot.”
The final criticism I have with Dialect is that there are places in the rules where there is ambiguity. Some rules errata will fix that issue though.
Before I give my opinion on the game itself, there are a few things I would like to mention. The first is that the Isolation does not have to be literal. It can be as simple as a boarding school, or even a website where people go to congregate. I even noticed some parallels to a few of the Isolations and the early LGBT movement. Not that the LGBT movement is dead, but that the language of it has changed since the early days.
The second thing I want to tell you about is a story from the test game I ran before writing this review. The players were members of a thieves guild in early 19th century London. They were con-men, swindling rich aristocrats out of their money by selling them ‘Mummy dust’ that was actually just dirt scraped up off the side of the road. One of the words the came up with was the word ‘Stone’ to refer to a bad omen. Named after the newly discovered Rosetta Stone, the word took on new meaning in a few turns, and began to be a term for anyone who wouldn’t fall for their tricks. It became one of my personal favorite words that session. When the game ended, I realized that the word was dead. Only a game like Dialect could make me feel that way about a simple word.
Dialect is an amazing game. I highly recommend it for people curious about language, those who are looking for a tool to help flesh out their own worlds, or for anyone just looking for a unique, fun game that doesn’t require a lot of set-up. Everything from the art design to the rules to the cards all helps bring the main focus of Dialect into perspective: What is lost when a language dies? Are dying languages worth saving?
Having played Dialect, I can tell you the answer to the second question. Yes.