I have a love-hate relationship with Dragon's Dogma 2. It was one of the first new games of 2024 that fully caught my attention – for a solid 9 days, anyway, over which I invested just shy of 100 hours into Capcom's sweeping monster-infested lands between Vermund and Battahl. I initially loved the combat-focused slant on the genre that the game angles for, putting it more in line with action-RPGs rather than honing in on the roleplaying or super involved storytelling I'd been experiencing elsewhere.
But no sooner had I made my peace with the fact that Baldur's Gate 3 might have spoiled RPGs for me forever, any and all intrigue I'd had driving me toward the end of Dragon's Dogma 2 suddenly drained away. Ultimately, upon unlocking the point-of-no-return quest The Guardian Gigantus, I gave up completely – but not before attempting to nuke my whole playthrough by way of the notorious Dragon's Dogma 2 Dragonsplague. Turns out that devious dreams of a serial killer-creating disease still couldn't entertain me long enough to see them to fruition, even after recruiting all manner of over-leveled Pawns in the vain hope of seeing burning red eyes staring out at me from the Rift. So what's left to do but grit my teeth and bear it one final time? It's time to conquer Dragon's Dogma 2 once and for all. As soon as I remember how to play it, of course.
Once more unto the breach, dear fiends
Loading back into my save file dated May 15, 2024, I feel a strange combination of trepidation and determination. I have absolutely zero recollection of where I'd left off those six months ago; would I spawn in to find myself planted at the foot of a fearsome dragon with eight health bars to blast through? In the midst of a harpy ambush on the perilously close, rickety confines of a manual cable car en route to Bakbattahl?
Turns out the answer is neither of those things; I'm in the slums of Vernworth being shoulder-checked brusquely by a host of bedraggled peasants, who still don't understand the concept of thinking rather than speaking every thought crossing their minds. The only logical explanation is that I'd been clearing up some side quests in a vain hope to regain some sense of enjoyment from Dragon's Dogma 2. That clearly didn't go to plan last time, not least because the DD2 Saint of the Slums mission turned out to be far more busywork that I probably had patience for in those warmer months at the start of summer. I take this as an opportunity to do something every rusty gamer faces upon picking up what they've long put down: relearn the controls.
This is surprisingly not as difficult as relearning the map itself. I have a vague memory of where my lodgings are in Vernworth – because who on Earth would want to fork out for an inn every night? – but aside from that, my mind draws a blank. So begins a whistlestop tour down memory lane, brushing away the cobwebs to reacquaint myself with the absolute basics as well as my poor forgotten main Pawn, Arryn, who much like a kicked puppy, seems to forgive me everything. It's kind of annoying, but I'm not here to respec him from Kindhearted to Simple; I'm here to get this Dragonsbane sword to the almost certainly evil Lord Phaesus, who awaits my delivery all the way across the map in a highlighted spot to the southeast of Bakbattahl. Conveniently, I open my inventory to a sight that makes me groan.
My past self, in her infinite wisdom, had decided to pick up the Portcrystal I'd originally dropped in the city and neglected to put it back for mindboggling reasons unknown. Oxcart it is, then.
Home sweet desert
The whole thing feels unnecessarily chaotic, the open world leaving it far too easy to stray off the beaten path.
Multiple monster ambushes and congratulatory fist bumps later, I reach the arid dustbowl of Bakbattahl. My jaw twinges painfully as I realize that it's been clenched for quite some time. Dragon's Dogma 2 is far from bad, but the sheer slog of it all – while true to the infrastructure of its medieval fantasy setting – has summoned a familiar sensation. It's my resolve, withering fast in my chest. Time to get to Lord Phaesus on the double. A brief cutscene plays out as I start down the path: a man I no longer recognize, assumedly the Lord himself, is opening the Spellseal Door. Whatever that is. I proceed to run very fast and exhaust myself on the way to stare uselessly as a colossal stone statue throws boulders around and smashes up a bridge in the distance.
This gigantus turns out to be an optional pre-boss of sorts, as whether or not you defeat it, it seems to die in lava regardless. Still, I give it my best. As a mystic spearhand, I make the most of my turbo-charged spear and look to my senior level Sorcerer to do most of the heavy-hitting. But the whole thing feels unnecessarily chaotic, the open world leaving it far too easy to stray off the beaten path and progress right to the map marker while ignoring the monster entirely. The futility of the experience does nothing to soothe my ebbing exasperation, and by the time the brute meets its fiery end, I'm kind of regretting this endeavor entirely. The sight of that smarmy git Raghnall, whose side I recall stupidly taking in an earlier mission, as the next boss battle? Well, that's the final straw before I throw down my controller and stand up to take a breather.
Okay, so I have yet to roll credits and conquer this particular demon. But even as I write this, I'm mentally preparing myself for further nonsense and inexplicable attempts to inject some semblance of a narrative into the swan song chapters of Dragon's Dogma 2. Maybe I didn't blast my way through it as I'd hoped to, ripping off the 70-gigabyte Band-Aid with satisfying ease. But I'm not giving up so easily this time, frustrations be damned, because if there's one thing I loathe more than leaving Raghnall alive it's leaving unfinished business in my wake. Even if that business is the great, yet deeply flawed, Dragon's Dogma 2.
