Dragon X New Game

There's a certain euphoria that one feels, looking at a character creation screen for the first time. Limitless possibilities array themselves before you, thousands of tiny choices all adding up to a single cohesive whole that is utterly unique. In that moment, you can be and do anything you want to be – the only limits are your creativity, and the as-of-yet unknown limits of the game world you're about to enter.

What kind of life will I get to lead? What sorts of treasures will I be able to gather? What secrets will I find? What enemies will I overcome? These sorts of questions get your imagination running wild, until you hardly have the patience to design an avatar you'll actually be satisfied with, and find yourself hovering over the “Start” button with all the desire of a toddler in a candy store.

So, yeah, if I had to describe how I felt, staring at the character creation screen for SKO, I'd say I was pretty excited. But it wouldn't be my first choice of adjective.

If I had to pick, I'd say I was more “confused.” Or maybe “overwhelmed” would be a better word.

“SKO is a game that prides itself on uniqueness, Young Master Keiichi.” SiLVA, sensing opportunity, seemed intent on taking this chance to play tour guide. “As the game's director Shirayanagi Kousei once famously said, the world of SKO was designed to feel as alive as possible – and to feel like every player has their own wholly unique life within it.”

“Yeah, great. I get that you want to talk up the guy who invented you, but I really don't need the history lesson, SiLVA.”

“Well, it certainly sounds like you do. He's –”

“I know who he is.”

Brushing my overly-talkative virtual assistant aside, I heaved a sigh and set back to examining the daunting series of windows and prompts in front of me. What all that babble about uniqueness seemed to amount to was that there wasn't just one place where everybody started, or one story they all got to play through.

Rather, as the name of the game implied, there were no less than seven distinct factions, each with their own inhabitants, resources, and agenda. And as for story, well... Beyond the brief lore blurb I'd seen in the game's opening scroll – something about the collapse of an ancient empire leaving behind a power vacuum, and all of its former subjects now vying for hegemony – what actually happened in this world was entirely up to the players.

Rather than calling itself an open-world adventure, maybe it would have been more honest to say it was a giant team deathmatch, or a world conquest simulator. Wars for territory, wars for resources, wars for fun and profit – didn't really matter the reason, the goal of each faction was still ultimately the same: make alliances, hold its own borders, and take as much territory as possible from its rivals.

That much suited me just fine. Party multiplayer might not have been my strong suit, but PVP was a different story. The real problem was...

“There's how many playable races?”

“Eight primary racial groups including humans, with the seven nonhuman groupings further split into three subcategories each, Young Master,” SiLVA chimed in helpfully.

“That's... 22. 22 races. Why would you even –”

“Your calculations are correct. 3 x 7 + 1 is indeed equal to 22.”

“Oh, don't you even start.”

“I was simply congratulating you on your successful arithmetic, Young Master. But to elucidate your earlier query, SKO does not possess a standard class-based character-building system. Instead, the player is free to choose individual skills to master based on their own preferences and playstyle, while stat growth is primarily determined by their chosen race.”

“...And those stats then boost how effective your skills are. Yeah, I got that much. So the reason there's so many races is because –”

“Because the developers wished to encourage a variety of different possible playstyles, so that each and every player's experience can be made wholly unique to themselves,” SiLVA concluded. I just sighed, looking over the list again.

“Unique. Right. That man sure loves that word. Yet for all that talk, it seems to me like 'races' are just classes by another name.”

“I've received that feedback before, yes.”

“And just like how class picks in these sorts of games usually determine your starting location, it looks like each faction only has access to some of the races. So I guess on the bright side, that makes my choice at least a little bit more simple...” Tabbing off of race selection, I swapped over to the faction menu, scrolling through the list, mumbling the names to myself under my breath.

The Elf-ruled Principality of the Greatwood that controlled the northwestern forests, the amphibious Dynasty of the Deep that dominated the western seaboard and the ocean floor beyond it, the mighty nomadic warrior-clans of the Ivory Legion of the far northeastern mountains, the serene and isolationist Amato Isles off the eastern coast –

“Wait, really? They just called the Japan stand-in Yamato and removed the Y?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Young Master. It's a perfectly original name.”

The vicious and monstrous Obsidian Horde of the southern wastelands –

“...Any relation to the Ivory Legion, by any chance?”

“You'd think that, but although their racial compositions are similar, the two factions have almost no points of contact,” SiLVA answered cheerily.

“Right... I'm beginning to question the developer's naming sense.”

Then, the final two factions, deadlocked in the center of the continent. Ruling with an iron fist over cold mountaintops and barren steppes, claiming direct heritage from the Ancients and wielding the power of their mysterious technology: the Empire of Velkha. And lastly, their rivals – the former breadbasket of the old kingdom, with lush, rolling grasslands still ruled over by some of its ancient noble families: the Grand Duchy of Althea.

It was this last faction upon which my eyes were set. After all, that was where the friends who had invited me to join them a week earlier when this game first launched had said they were playing. Selecting it, I once more examined my options.

“Let's see here... so no Giants, Daemons, and... Abyssals? Those were the fish-people, right?”

“Those are the fish-people.”

“Those are all out. Same with Elementals and – woah, Vampires? You can play as a Vampire?!”

“Yes, Young Master. You can play as a Vampire.”

“...Just not in Althea. Darn. So let's see. That leaves Humans, Elves, and Therians, which are...” I clicked the option, only to see a sample character sporting a rather distinctive set of feline ears appear on the menu. “Ah. Fluffy.”

“Quite,” SiLVA concurred.

Still, none of those sounded particularly appealing. I was the type of person who'd never play a human in a video game if something weirder was available, and Elves just seemed like humans with extra pointiness. But I also wasn't too keen on running around as a catboy, or as a dog, or whatever other options there were under Therian...

“Oh? I thought all of the Monstrous races were out, but it looks like there's one that's still available. Let's see here... Hm? Dragonkin?”

I clicked the option. A towering sample character appeared before me, wild hair parted by a set of curving draconic horns, cheeks marked with shimmering scales, lips parted to reveal shimmering fangs, fingertips ending in vicious-looking claws, and a giant, scaly tail practically as long as he was tall coiling up from behind him.

Oh.

Oh hell yes.

“...Young Master?”

“...I can work with this.”