Possibly one of the most underappreciated games in recent memory has to be Fable II. I discovered it around release back in 2008 and lost what felt like countless hours of my life immersing myself in its deadpan British humor, charming quests, flexible and well-rounded combat, and rewarding exploration.
In ways that Fable could only dream of, its sequel confidently achieves the feeling of being a grand adventure. Albion feels massive in its scale and ambition by offering a plethora of quests that seem bound to the world, populated with NPCs that have individual habits and routines such as work shifts. The atmosphere of its towns changes throughout the day as markets boom into life at dawn before later winding down at the dinner tables and inns and finally slinking into the seedy alleyways after dark. The player's actions and deeds can alter Albion, which is brilliantly-illustrated in its masterful introductory sequence through a bureau of Fable II’s largest town.
Most of the game will be spent interacting with people. Rose is a lovable lass whose connection with your character is so strikingly believable that you can taste the history spent on the streets huddled together for warmth in a back alley of Bowerstone. Lucien makes for a cool villain by peacocking his lordly power before scuffling off to rebuild the Spire, forever looming in the distance and a constant reminder of your end goal. Theresa is definitely the highlight of the roster for me because of her elegant and mysterious presence. You get the sense that she’s a bit of a puppet master, gently guiding every piece of her chessboard in just the right way for some unknown goal-- yet without any expressed aggression or malice, only making you feel slightly uneasy if you become privy to this nuance.
Cinematics are presented primarily as interactive cutscenes. Entering a quest area or plot-relevant space triggers the cutscene to play out around you without removing control over your character, similar to Assassin's Creed [1] and the Half-Life games. Because of their passive nature, it is possible to walk away from most of these scenes if you so desire, or even to use expressions and slightly influence the way some of them play out, though not on the same level as Bioware titles, for example. Those that prefer a more focused and traditional storytelling device can hold the left trigger during these moments to zoom-in on the cinematic event, completely altering the camera perspective.
Fable II is delightfully forward-thinking and modern in its sensibilities. You've got men and women of all shapes and sizes, various sexualities, even some flexible ideologies. As a woman, I could dress like a nobleman, bulk up with some pies and Strength training, pick up a tramp from a shady corner of Bowerstone Old Town, and flex my way into her heart until she begged me to marry her. The precise opposite is true as well with many alternatives in between, giving a tremendous amount of freedom over your character and their life.
The game does a splendid job of instilling a sense of wonder and curiosity. I always looked forward to traveling to new areas, uncover lost treasures, and happen upon quests. What’s interesting about this aspect of the game is its breadcrumb system which constantly directs the player to their targeted objective with golden sparkles on the ground. It can be disabled if desired but I actually found that by telling me which way will progress the story I was more empowered to go off the beaten path and discover side content that wouldn’t accidentally snowball into the endgame. It’s also an inherently useful tool for navigation because hub areas are vastly larger than those in Fable, making it far easier to get lost, not know how where to go or how to get there.
Controls are very smooth and intuitive, though movement and the camera feel a touch too loose. Your character slides around Albion as if the ground is made of ice and their shoes of butter, making it very difficult to steer them through intricate environments. I grew accustomed to this and thought nothing of it after a few hours, but there’s no denying how gross it feels.
Maneuvering the camera is particularly floaty and sluggish, though it honestly doesn't get in the way too often because of the way it dynamically shifts depending on the situation; closing in for close-quarters environments, pulling out for combat, or tilting up to bring a distant castle into frame.
More annoying is the strange delay for the confirm/interact input with the A button which seems to just be a problem with the game prematurely indicating that you may interact with someone or something before it’s actually possible. To alleviate this issue, perhaps the game could have instead shown a grayed-out A button until you’re within interacting range before gaining its bright green hue so you aren’t mashing A in vain.
Combat has been ingeniously streamlined by mapping all melee actions to X, ranged actions to Y, and magic to B. This makes on-the-fly decision-making a breeze during fights and the mechanical simplicity affords simple inter-discipline combos as well. A decent handful of melee weapons introduce variety with heavy weapons not being as practical against agile foes as perhaps a sword might be, but the stagger afforded by a hammer can really turn the tide of battle. Ranged weapons employ auto-aim that can be easily manipulated with the analog stick but can otherwise be manually aimed. They’re great for picking off blokes from a distance with precision and are generally useful for juggling between melee attacks because of their speed and range. Magic remains the most effective method of dispatching everything in your path despite being technically stripped down when compared to Fable. I feel that the missing spells won’t be missed and don’t have a place in the sequel, so trimming the fat in this way leaves us with a more focused experience that’s still fun and easy to exploit. Holding B to charge up your spell makes sense, but having your spell change depending on how long you hold it is inspired. It again affords so much tactical flexibility in a way that avoids the cumbersome methods that most games have you managing active spells. Look no further than Fable II’s predecessor to see how awkward such a system can be to better appreciate the way this game supersedes the issue.
While most of the enemies don't warrant discussion, we need to talk about the Rock Trolls-- who do their ancestors proud by being, yet again, a god-awful encounter. Normal combat methods don't hurt the trolls, instead only taking damage by killing bugs that stick out of their pores. This means melee attacks are out of the question due to where the bugs are located and magic is often too slow to land a hit on one of the little critters because they hide every so often, giving the troll moments of pure invincibility. No matter how you slice it, these are poorly designed and take far too long to deal with.
Rock Trolls aside, this isn't an especially challenging game outside of a few spikes in difficulty here and there. Should you perish, however, you’ll likely be left quite puzzled as to the game’s take on death. Rather than dying, being shown a ‘Game Over’ screen and then thrown to a recent checkpoint or save, Fable II knocks your character onto the ground momentarily, the fatal blow resulting in a permanent scar on their person that isn’t even called attention to, and then discards some unspent experience points. On the surface, I can understand peoples’ assertion that this makes the game too easy, but I’d love to dispute that. In what way is a standard game over more of a hardship than Fable II’s knockout system when both scenarios have you running through the same scenario and fighting the same enemies until you eventually succeed? I would argue in fact that it more effectively penalizes you by having a constant reminder of your failure through scars and a short-term consequence by making you work harder to make up for that lost experience, but we get the added benefit of not having our time wasted. Had the game been made today, I can even see it lifting Shadow of Mordor’s Nemesis system to add even more depth, stakes, and dynamics to not only combat but the world. It’s easy to think of the ways it could be used in the Fable series, where the Nemesis becomes famous for downing your hero, gaining his own notoriety and instilling fear in the populace. He could use that to take over a town or village and establish a fort you need to take down, and finally beating him will net you a ton of renown as well as a trophy unique to your individual experience with this grunt-turned-villain. If the recently announced Fable IV is willing to pull from any outside sources, I absolutely hope it takes some notes from the Nemesis system.
One of the interesting aspects of the social interactivity in Fable II and its successor is how metered the experience is. Because the game gives you so much information about what each NPC likes and dislikes as well as providing actual meters for moods and other aspects of those systems, it becomes far more of a numbers game than of feeling like you're interacting with an actual person. It's difficult to knock this as an actual problem because coming up with a different solution would be probably very challenging and it does a good job at what it's trying to do, it's just that the side effect makes it seem both less human and less personal.
I feel far more in control over the look of my character than in Fable. Getting to choose my character's gender and influence her physique, sexuality, and fashion sense brings me closer to her and makes me care far more about her well-being and role in the story. Where Fable II blunders in this character morphing system is how extreme it tends to be. I found it far too easy to become overweight, and bumping up in strength turns female heroes into absolute nightmares. I honestly couldn’t stand looking at my character beyond level 2 strength so I never went higher which vastly limited her physical efficiency.
A hugely underappreciated mechanic of the game is the dog. His nose for treasure, fighting capability, and general companionship add a lot of life to the moment-to-moment gameplay. On a more subtle level, he serves as a unique morality device where townsfolk will react to the dog based on your alignment. So if you're feared and reviled they might kick your dog in the street, but if you're loved and revered they'll pet him and say he's a good boy. This is one of the more successful ways the game demonstrates consequences for your actions and provokes emotional responses. I think perhaps the one way he might have been made even more useful and perhaps less controversial is to combine him with the breadcrumb trail. Many people take issue with the linear nature of the breadcrumb trail, and likewise with how the dog 'gets in their way', so having the dog be your trail by telling him which quest to target and then following as he leads the way would strengthen your bond and give him an undeniably useful purpose. It even has the potential to fix how firmly the game holds the player's hand because the dog could become distracted by things other than the targeted quest the way he already does, which would of course flat-out disable the breadcrumb until you either indulge in the dog's distraction or try to make your way without him before he eventually returns to begin leading you again. As it is, I find the dog completely unobtrusive and really bonded with him very quickly.
The game's economic systems are surprisingly well-balanced. Weapons, clothing, food, items, and everything in-between that can be purchased costs just enough gold to seem reasonable within the context of both the setting and gameplay. You won’t be stocking up on 50 apples for nothing and it’ll take a while to save up enough for a really good sword, yet a little persistence and exploration of the many systems empower you to reach any economic goal. At the bottom of the greedy totem pole are jobs which task you with performing simple blue-collar work. These are presented as very basic timing minigames whose mechanical and conceptual simplicity offer a great deal of accessibility while rewarding those that can muster the vaguest hint of timing prowess. The only thing weighing these down is the game's incessant knack for slowing down to an absolute crawl which fundamentally hinders your ability to get the timing right. Your own inventory can be bartered to earn a profit as well, fueling the economy by supplying shops with goods while lining your pockets with the gold enough to tackle the most lucrative source of income. Every home, shop, and establishment can be purchased. Houses can be rented out and stores push a percentage of their profits right to you every five real-world minutes and it’s even possible to raise or lower their prices, which is yet another way to steer the alignment of your character on top of the inherent monetary gain.
I love a good arena, and The Crucible is a wonderfully executed one. Each round takes place in different rooms which keeps the fights fresh while also granting the player a small break as they travel between them. This is an especially profitable method for farming experience and gold in a convenient, condensed location.
Albion is a setting that uniquely comes to life through its perpetual simulation. Every action takes time and pauses for nothing, save for menus. You can see this demonstrated by watching townsfolk proceed with their routines in the background while you work, or noticing the time difference after traveling between locations and after sleeping. The only thing holding this system back is how short the actual days are, deflating the otherwise impeccable sense of scale achieved by showing that life continues with or without you.
While the game isn't riddled with bugs, pop-in is plentiful and there's a quirky awkwardness to exploration and combat as bodies land in places you can't reach and become stuck. The game itself will kill these unfortunate souls as a cheeky band-aid to this particular problem, so the result is the same and it doesn't really get in the way. What did get in my way, however, was a soft-lock caused by no fault of my own. During a story mission that forced some NPCs to follow me, I discovered a hidden underwater cave and looted the chest dwelling within. Upon my attempt to leave, I found one of my followers blocking the exit. There was no coaxing her out of the way using the follow or dismiss expressions and attacking her was impossible. I even made a strong effort to fudge my way around her in any glitchy way, but couldn’t manage it. I ended up having to reload the mission which was a gigantic pain because it's most recent checkpoint undid a lot of combat. It’s worth noting that this is an incredibly rare issue, though, as the only example of such an extreme bug in my four-ish playthroughs of the game.
As someone that isn't generally a fan of collectibles, I found Fable II's gargoyles a genuinely fun diversion from the main story path with rewards that are presented in an unprecedented cool manner.
Leaps and bounds more impressive than the title preceding it, Fable II is genuinely quite visually arresting even twelve years later. There’s a stronger visual identity to the art style that looks less like a hodgepodge of generic fantasy than Fable. The introductory sequence is especially beautiful with its dense snow and heavy gaslamp atmosphere. The rest of the game looks great as well with poppy energetic vibrancy and a real unique sense of motion.
My biggest issue with the graphics is how little effort it takes for your character to look unpleasant as a result of the game’s morphing systems, such that the difference between a hero that looks like Jabba the Hutt or Princess Leia is two apple pies and a strip of beef jerky. It indirectly restricts my choices if I care at all about keeping her attractive not only to myself but the townspeople.
Russell Shaw returns as composer, but this time with real confidence and competence in equal measure. The game is given a uniquely Fable II voice that stands out against other fantasy action-adventure works. The music is playful and bold in a way that makes you feel deeply invested in the setting. The battle music is procedural which is quite innovative for the time but does result in some bland and samey tunes that quickly become a touch grating.
Voices are pretty flawless, whether they’re main characters or the blacksmith’s son up in Rookridge. Standouts are Theresa’s (Zoë Wanamaker) otherworldly cadence and demeanor as well as Lucien’s (Oliver Cotton) conniving regality. Don't even get me started on Reaver (Stephen Fry) who oozes a smug repulsion.
Albion is as grand and alive as ever, though it owes none of this achievement to the game’s sound design. Ambient effects are quiet, almost timidly hiding in the background to scarcely be heard when nothing else gets in the way.
The user interface is a marked improvement over that in Fable and is honestly just good in general. Every item is clear, navigation is logical, and every piece of information you could want from it is provided-- unless you’re looking for a competent map.
Fable’s map was embarrassing, and Fable II’s is no better. It isn’t useful at all for finding areas of interest such as inns or shops, rendering it mostly useless. At least its inadequacy is somewhat masked by removing the minimap altogether, leaving it only accessible from the menu screen so as to not needlessly clutter the HUD which is a decision I do admittedly appreciate.
One big blemish in the UI is that using items kicks you out of the menu and back into the game without retaining any memory of where you were within said menu. Similarly, oddly, the main menu always defaults to 'New Game' despite the presence of existing save files, of which there is no built-in way to delete. They also don't show your hero either, instead displaying an image related to your active quest which makes managing multiple heroes needlessly difficult since they only refer to each hero as "Hero 1" or "Hero 2" rather than, say, their title. This is shockingly bad design, especially when contrasted against the game's otherwise rather stellar UI.
Convenience features would go a long way in improving the remaining blemishes of the interface. For example, the process of purchasing weaponry could do with a proper compare feature so the player wouldn’t have to back out to their inventory and compare stats. I’m aware that the game tries something along these lines with a text that indicates if the weapon is ‘better’ or not, but it often just seemed to not work at all without any rhyme or reason. Though far more minor, it would also be nice if interacting with a bed displayed the current time so you could make an informed decision on how long to sleep without having to check the time from the pause menu first.
Each time skip does cool stuff to the setting, though I think Lionhead could have taken this further. I like that the later skip ages your dog and shows that the Spire has grown so tall that it pierces the clouds, but it's a shame that more of Albion couldn’t have altered according to your deeds up to that point or at least changed seasons to further emphasize the jump in time. The more ideal scenario would be to age all of the characters because as it stands, only Lucien, your dog, and your children, should you have any, have grown older by this point. Again, it's a wonderful idea but falls just short of true greatness.
The significance of Wraithmarch is something that only players of the original game can fully grasp. Despite not having cared much about the first game, seeing Oakvale destroyed, barren, and ghastly after 500 years is both humbling and sad to me. It's a pretty powerful moment that beautifully demonstrates the passage of time in a way that makes you feel small.
Backtracking a bit on Fable’s concept of “heroes”, this time around the title is granted to special individuals destined for their role in the story. This is far less confusing with regard to terminology and suitably epic, but the heroes themselves need more development. Hannah, being the first hero to join your cause, receives the most depth and is easily the most likable and relatable. Garth is fine, but difficult to empathize with aside from an off-handed moment where he expresses guilt over not having foreseen Lucien’s foul intent that led to the death of your sister. I like this a lot but it’s over in the blink of an eye. It's also cool that if you read between the lines a bit, you can piece together that Garth was imprisoned within the Spire because of this implied meeting between he and Lucien just before your own meeting with him. Reaver receives almost no development whatsoever beyond his immortality and sass. It’s disheartening because his personality is disgustingly alluring and he has a lot of potential, but the story wraps up almost the moment he joins the guild. It’s yet another way that the Fable series indirectly shafts Evil playthroughs because Reaver serves as the one main character you can relate to on such runs, as both Hannah and Garth are unquestionably good-natured.
I like that, in the end, Theresa claims the Spire as her own in an almost hissing manner giving you no input on the matter. Reflecting on this with the context of her being a 'hero' intrigues me for her role in the third game. Might she be the big baddie? Her omnipotence and omnipresence throughout Fable II would certainly lend an interesting air to that aspect of her character.
The ending is understatedly great. Killing your family and illustrating that the game had been silently keeping track of your hero throughout their journey just for this moment to show your growth at each major milestone sent shivers down my spine. Getting to kill Lucien at any point during his monologue is empowering, though inarguably disappointing in that there is no proper final boss. You face a gauntlet of his forces shortly before, but no boss fight in sight. I suppose it humanizes Lucien and subverts expectations, but then I wish he at least summoned something big and cool as part of the aforementioned gauntlet. The endgame choices are solid and I definitely struggled to decide between Sacrifice and Love. It’s too bad that there isn’t a second more evil choice than gaining money, but it’s hard to argue how mean it is to give the middle finger to your dog, your spouse and kids, every person that died to build the spire, and your sister for a pile of gold.
I'm constantly struck by just how much better a game Fable II is than its predecessor. I mean no exaggeration when I say that it is superior in every single way. The best part, though, is that it isn't only a great game in comparison, it's fantastic all on its own. From the moment you boot up the game, it delights with charming atmosphere and style before wrapping you up in its engaging and deep systems, mechanics, and writing. Not only does this title stand tall within its genre, it’s shoulder to shoulder among the best and is easily one of the most unique and fun games I've ever played. I love Fable II, and I think you will too.