Games With Grey

When considered alongside its immediate predecessor, Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood is defined by relatively constrained ambitions; epicness is rejected. Far from a failing, the narrative ultimately benefits from its hyperfocusedness, the core plot spanning a scant six or seven years, while Assassin’s Creed II’s narrative unraveled over some winding two or so decades; succinctness is totally embraced. Humanity traditionally abounds, too, as the player character Ezio Auditore returns, albeit in a somewhat altered state – the pluckishness of youth, a pluckishness which was once his defining attribute, has largely been discarded, and Ezio accordingly adopts a more cautious and wizened role – though he mostly rejects overwhelming cynicism, preferring to expect the best in people, even as that kindly idealism sometimes prompts pain, a pain Ezio takes in stride; as before, he is a fantastic protagonist, and his compelling portrayal directly prompts greatness narrative successes and resonances. Crucially and wisely, though, for all Ezio’s emphasization, he does not monopolize the narrative. Indeed, the cast of supporting characters is exhaustive, featuring many holdovers from the previous title – Ezio’s sister Claudia makes a triumphant return, eventually adopting a consequential role as leader of the courtesans, a faction loyal to Ezio and one eager to assist him in whatever fashion. And so the jaded and wearied Machiavelli returns, spewing advice in an almost detached and calculating manner, firmly committed to the Assassins’ cause, though still somewhat distanced from it. And so the brutish Bartolomeo returns, a resolute wife by his side, themselves together determined to contribute to the cause. On and on goes the core cast, and while some characters are naturally less developed than others, their abundance does signal some latent narrative ambitions.

Masterfully and cleverly, too, in the narrative one villain predominates – Cesare Borgia. His frequent emphasization again prompts and sustains focusedness, and while some minor antagonistic figures are periodically inserted, still Cesare Borgia stands alone, fascinating when considering his excellent characterization. As with the younger Ezio seen in Assassin’s Creed II, Cesare is brash and excessively feeling – he shows ample flaws. These flaws’ existence does greatly humanize Cesare, and for all his failings and corruptions, for all the barbarisms he executes and oversees, he is strangely likable, and the frequent Ezio / Cesare sparring which occurs prompt greatest narrative intrigue, player investment. And their conflict is urgent, intense, and determined in nature, revolving as it does around the fabled Piece of Eden. An object of incalculable power and allure, its possession and mastery is logically sought. And so it is, and so Ezio fights and defends. At the conclusion of Assassin’s Creed II, this object did fall into his hands, after a literal fistfight with Rodrigo Borgia, corrupt Cesare’s father, in the Vatican. At this narrative’s opening, though, a direct assault is conducted, as Ezio’s villa and base of operations is subject to cannon fire and an encroaching infantry and siege equipment. In a highly tragic sequence, Ezio’s earnest uncle Mario is slaughtered in the assault. The Piece of Eden is taken, and the narrative is set in motion – Ezio must travel to Rome in search of the object, acting for its reacquisition. This one sequence frames the entire narrative, and the pacing generally is flawless, rarely slackening even as grounded matters are developed. Ezio’s various dynamics with Claudia, Machiavelli, Bartolomeo and others are developed in turn, though still events always revolve around Cesare. While some minor forces are cut down in pursuit of Cesare – see a chauvinistic French general, a hedonistic banker, and also Lucrezia Borgia, Cesare’s lusty, incestuous sister – the narrative acts with purpose, whereas the prior narrative in Assassin’s Creed II, wonderfully human though it was, still showed considerable directionlessness. This narrative cannot be commended enough, even as it concludes in a highly predictable manner – Cesare has been vanquished, Mario avenged, while the Assassins regain control of the Piece of Eden. While this conclusion is expected, its impactfulness is only barely tarnished.

Rome’s depiction is similarly triumphant – the city is steeped in atmosphere. An obvious departure from the past exists here – Ezio’s tale in Assassin’s Creed II spanned four distinct cities, while Rome and Rome alone is emphasized here. This is not necessarily a failing, and the city generally is very charming and very diverse, with ample differentiation existing from district to district. The western regions of the map are far and away the densest, with manifold habitations and other structures crowded about one another. Here, merchants and common NPCs have their presence; masked doctors, so adorned in efforts to ward off the plague, can be heard hawking their wares and remedies, while the blacksmith’s anvil frequently reverberates upon the hammer’s blow. Heralds boom about the pressing issues of the day, while tailors advertise their wares and their services. Considered collectively, then, immersiveness abounds, even as the NPC presence is traditionally fairly scarce – the streets are often devoid of life – while the NPCs which are included are subject to frequent repetition in character models. But still, Rome is singularly atmospheric and diverse, is almost magical, and gazing upon the urban sprawl from some towering vantage point is sobering indeed; Rome as city is a major illustration of humankind’s proclivities for creativity and ambition, potentials for immortality. Mundane buildings do not stand alone. Instead, they are complemented by massive, triumphal arches, by lengthy aqueducts, and by other objects suggestive of human ingenuity – see the Pantheon with its oculus or the sprawling Colosseum, which looms majestically and intimidatingly in the map’s southern portions. Repeated are the successes here, and a dynamic day / night suggests that Rome is in a state of perpetual flux. This system also portrays Rome as having dual-identities; the sunbaked aesthetics of the day time clash somewhat with the tranquil bliss predominating upon the sun’s descent, the blue skies dotted with brightly gleaming stars. Creativity abounds, then, as does environmental diversity, even as logic suggests diversity would be lacking, in that one city is emphasized, not four. Instead, creativity and diversity both thrive in Brotherhood, Rome being a rather humble and unostentatious city, the architecture decidedly austere.

Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood’s gameplay is spectacular and engaging throughout, even as substantial alterations are lacking (and even while the alterations which are enacted meet with mixed successes). As before, traversal is heavily emphasized, with essentially all objects in the game world made scalable, provided believable handholds and footholds exist. These locomotion systems generally are liberating and frequently exhilarating, especially when their mechanics have been mastered – simply navigating diverse, sprawling Rome is a major source of enjoyability, while a slightly increased climbing speed cuts down on the potential tedium seen in the earlier two titles. Even the world design reflects these locomotion-heavy systems, with manifold ladders scattered throughout, permitting very rapid ascension, while lifts exist to serve a similar function, and objects are in place which enable safe passage from rooftop to rooftop, with planks spanning avenues and throughfares – verticality matters, and whenever inhabiting the rooftop the player is at great remove from the NPCs below, even as their banter remains audible, their movements observable; detachment exists as Ezio is elevated over these citizens, citizens comparatively lacking in talent and in resolve. Subtle gameplay refinement has been achieved here, and simply navigating the map prompts ample delights.  

And combat is similarly delightful – if characterized by some flaws. The developer’s greatest experimentations directly revolve around an entirely new mechanic – the chain kill. As was the case with the previous two installments, counter kills are essential to the overall combat experience, providing a swift and easy means of dispatching the opposition (frequently in a highly stylized and visceral manner, too). Especially offensive approaches were almost discouraged and disincentivized. Here, too, this discouragement exists, and once a counter kill has been successfully executed Ezio can essentially dart about the environment, executing kill after kill, meeting with essentially no real resistance; the opposition falls swiftly and violently. The stylistic overtures are abundant here, too, and the animation quality is typically spectacular. Still, this mechanic’s inclusion almost trivializes the combat experience; Ezio is literally set apart from common man, possessing excessive virility. The pacing of combat is greatly enhanced, to be sure, and while such experimentation must be lauded, still this experimentation wrought ample and unneeded complications, as Ezio literally becomes a godlike figure – death is difficult to obtain even if sought, and the combat becomes a pure power fantasy, as dozens upon dozens of guards can be slaughtered. Narrative dissonance emerges. All throughout the narrative, Ezio’s fragilities and limitations are expressed – he cannot win, cannot reclaim the Piece of Eden, without his allies’ support and an expanded brotherhood. In combat, however, Ezio shows himself as devoid of fragilities and restraints; the chain kills’ implementation is flawed indeed, though still it is a major marker of uniqueness, marking a dramatic break from the past. The stealth systems are similarly flawed and basic in nature, primarily revolving around line-of-sight. The player can make use of hiding spots and can even interact with stationary or moving crowds to remain undetected, though stealth seems an afterthought when considered alongside traversal and combat. Masterful foundations are in place within these stealth systems though no real feats have been achieved yet, and the mechanics here are functionally identical to AC II.         

Greater gameplay experimentations do exist, though – consider most obviously the Assassin recruitment and Assassin expansion systems. After a certain narrative threshold has been passed, the player is allowed to expand the order’s ranks, primarily by interacting with oppressed civilian NPCs and slaughtering their harassers. Once this task has been executed, Ezio typically grabs the recruit, utters the line, “The liberation of Roma has begun,” and then the saved individual joins the ranks – the cause against Cesare Borgia is strengthened. While this mechanic is fine in theory, it is repeated mostly unaltered some ten or twelve times – dullness and repetition abound. But dullness and repetition are largely displaced as the player further interacts with these Assassin recruits. Much of this interaction is conducted in some dedicated menuing, as the player can assign the Assassins on missions throughout the Mediterranean, directly illustrating the Assassins’ wide-ranging influence. Each individual mission has its own difficulty level; some missions can be completed by even the most fledgling assassins, while others require the concerted efforts of some three or four master assassins. Successful completion of a mission typically awards currency (already in fair abundance). Similarly, some missions award inventory items, which can be used to purchase especially valuable gear once possessed in sufficient quantity. All missions, however, confer experience points for each participating assassin, further suggesting the constancy of change, as Assassin recruits perpetually increase in aptitude and talent. Compelling though this growth is, it is largely very automated. The player can choose whether to increase weapon proficiency or access to more durable armors, though the end result is always the same – any given max level assassin is essentially identical to any other max level assassin. Still, the experimentation here is very commendable, even as this entire managing affair is passive in nature rather than active – the player has little direct control over the accepted contracts – success is entirely determined by A.I. and by probabilities. But this tangible manifestation of the Brotherhood’s expansion is rather compelling indeed, communicating the weightiness and impactfulness of Ezio’s shaping actions. Brief descriptive blurbs also lend these missions subtle narrative and world-building heft, too. Most vitally, though, these trained and training Assassins also serve practical functions, in that they can be summoned at virtually any moment. At the most basic level, the summoned Assassin spawns and dispatches the intended target hastily and stealthily. But for a greater resource cost, the Assassins waiting in the wings can let loose a flurry of arrows, slaughtering numerous targets simultaneously. The balancing generally is perfect, and while I actually utilized these systems fairly infrequently, it is reassuring indeed to know that multiple allies stand always at the ready.

Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood’s greatest achievement, though, is related to its secondary content, very rich and exciting to experience. Gone are pointless side endeavors like races and letter delivery. Instead, such inconsequential acts are displaced by wonderfully consequential ones, missions for the polymath Leonardo da Vinci first springing to mind. Given his swelling genius and characteristic timidity, it is only logical he should be seized by Cesare, and then promptly exploited by that soldier and statesman. And so he is exploited, the end result of that exploitation being the construction of marital objects – see for instance a tank, a hang glider with bombing capabilities and a fleet boat armed with a scorching flamethrower. Deadly objects all, in the Borgia’s hands they could be bold weapons indeed. Reflecting this, in these missions Ezio must navigate smallish maps at fair remove from Rome, where he must locate the weapons’ blueprints, burn the blueprints, and then promptly use the weapon to escape a perilous predicament, the ultimate result being the object’s willed destruction. These are incredibly elaborate missions and incredibly enjoyable ones, the mission involving the hang glider arguably being most memorable and engaging. Here, the player must consider objects like altitude and traversal speeds, must consider when to strike and where to travel. An entire game could be crafted around these mechanics, carefully and lovingly developed as they are, even as they are emphasized for no more than a ten or fifteen minute span – developer passion overflows. For most developers, in these missions the core gameplay mechanics would simply be replicated unaltered. Here, though, Ubisoft strove for innovation, and were successful in their pursuit. Almost all of the side content is of this impressive caliber, and working with docile Leonardo is satisfying indeed, completion of these missions rewards a highly useful item – Leonardo gives the player a parachute, which actually opens up further options in traversal, allowing the player to move vast distances with grace and ease, allows the player to avoid fall damage: the object is liberating indeed, rather than being dull and deflating. Leonardo’s portrayal is excellent, too, and assisting him in his plight offers its own rewards; the Ezio / Leonardo fraternity is compelling.  

Complementing this masterfulness are certain Followers of Romulus missions, which see Ezio grappling with bizarre cultists, all in efforts to obtain a collection of keys and ultimately the armor of Brutus resting behind a series gates only openable with the correspondent keys, treasured objects for the barbaric, animal skin wearing cultist. These missions – roughly six or so in number – are actually rather diverse, some heavily emphasizing combat, others emphasizing platforming or puzzle-solving, while still others are an amalgamation of all these gameplay approaches simultaneously. Those which do press platforming and puzzle-solving are most remarkable, featuring spectacular level design and generally cinematic flourishes. These sequences’ slowness truly allows the player to breathe, and they thus offer a reprieve from the tensions dominating elsewhere, as when Ezio’s and the cultists’ blades clash. Diverse aesthetically, these missions see the player navigate such regions as diverse as the decaying yet magnificent baths of Nero, while even some papal enclaves in the Vatican are explored. They are immensely enjoyable and rewarding, even as the tangible reward is rather unexciting and disappointing – the Armor of Brutus is aesthetically rather ugly; here, the reward is deflating. Still, the act of laying claim to that armor cannot be praised enough, and almost all superfluous side content has been excised in Brotherhood – all side content matters, all side content is purposeful. Given genre trends of the present moment, this is unique and impressive indeed, modern open world games often characterized by unneeded and frustrating bloatedness. Not so here. See only Ezio’s interactions with his former Florentine lover Chritina. In these missions, the player is transported backwards in time, wherein Ezio’s amours and struggles with that beautiful girl are detailed. Abounding in emotion, they illustrate the game’s swelling heart.

Foundationally, Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood is terribly similar to its immediate predecessor, though doing just enough to claim its own distinct identity – see most strikingly the shift in atmosphere, sprawling, beautiful, and diverse Rome morphing into a character in its own right; it is a magnificent environment, one clearly steeped in history and one clearly lovingly crafted by the developers. Further unexpected – and not entirely fruitful – experimentation can be seen in the inclusion of secondary objectives, which are attached to essentially all missions of any real import. These are entirely optional, and while these added parameters do prompt potential excitement and tension, and while it can be rewarding to fulfill an especially difficult challenge, this inclusion actually diminishes player freedom in that it encourages an almost predetermined approach to the mission at hand; the parameters bound the player. In this regard, it is actually more liberating and enjoyable to push back against these mechanics and complete a mission organically; if the player can accept not attaining 100% synchronization always, the experience improves considerably – this precise change, then, this incorporation, is rather constraining. The robust economy system, meanwhile, is also paradoxically good and bad. It is a dramatic improvement over its predecessor, certainly, wherein economic expansion was exclusively confined to the Villa Auditore, with only a handful of purchaseable and repairable structures. Here, though, essentially the entirety of Rome can be purchased and renovated, whether speaking of a lowly blacksmith’s shop or tailor’s shop, or of such titanic monuments as the Pantheon or the Colosseum. Narratively this is exciting – the Borgia influence is being toppled, while the people are deriving considerable benefit from Ezio’s exertions. From a gameplay perspective, however, these mechanics are not particularly engaging, in that they are painfully straightforward in nature – travel to the desired shop or monument and press the purchase button: that is the extent of this feature, rather tedious and uninspired. When further regarding this economy, if the player is proactive and begins the renovation process early, then they need never really worry about currency, especially when considering the assassin contracts provide further passive income. Whenever new weapons or armor sets are desired, then, they can be very easily attained, even as success in gameplay can be achieved even with starting weapons and armor, combat principally being a straightforward affair.

But even while some stumbling does inevitably occur – see most strongly the overemphasized chain kills, whose inclusion trivializes combat by destroying all skill-based, engaging components, prompting automatedness – much remains to be championed; repeated are the successes. Consider the side content, eclipsing in grandeur, enjoyability, and complexity the primary narrative content (enjoyable though it frequently is). It is baffling that these resounding achievements are so easily missable, and the player who adheres strictly to the core narrative without dabbling in secondary content is sorely disadvantaged in Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood, a wonderfully focused affair and a game with a fast-beating heart. See only Rome, or most strikingly Ezio Auditore himself, masterfully portrayed, being an admixture of wise guardedness and youthful passion, both warring within him as he grows further embroiled in the Assassin / Templar struggle. Now, however, he is not simply engaging in that struggle but is instead overseeing it – now he is truly in command of a brotherhood. He is accordingly burdened with responsibilities, which he characteristically bears gracefully. It is a marvelous experience throughout, even while occasionally conservative, sharply relying upon the tropes and mechanics earlier established in Ezio’s first odyssey. Some strides are made in developing Desmond Miles’s own odyssey as the modern-day sequences are periodically dwelt upon, some of them unfolding in the long-abandoned Villa Auditore, another unfolding in the sprawling Colosseum in the dead of night. Far more elaborate than the sequences in, say, Assassin’s Creed II and in the original title especially, some advancements have indeed been made, though narrative intrigue is fleeting, the modern-day narrative nonsensical. Still, Ezio’s journey and his charisma compensate for these relative failings, and the end result is a highly memorable and directed experience.