#rather then a grand adventure of bloodthirsty vengeance

[irandrura]

I will aim for three posts, I think, trying to give some general feelings on Three Houses after completing one route (Azure Moon). This post will be on world and plot, and will have a mixture of things I liked and things I thought could be improved. The second one will be on characters and will be mostly positive. The third one will be a grab bag of other thoughts on mechanics, tone, where I think 3H fits into the series’ overall trajectory, and other things that occur to me.

It’s also worth noting that at this point I think I’ll grant myself license to read spoilers for the other routes. This is mainly because I don’t think it’s reasonable to need to play dozens more hours, many of which just repeat content I’ve already done, in order to get a full picture of the plot. That said, I realise that reading a wiki and skimming the odd chapter transcript are not substitutes for the experience of actually playing a route, so I will not make any judgement on the other three routes in terms of quality. I do intend to play at least Crimson Flower and Verdant Wind at some point, and that should be a richer experience than just reading, but I probably won’t start another forty-to-fifty hour journey straight away.

So, world and plot!

I think worldbuilding is one of Three Houses’ strengths, and is definitely a big step up after Fates and Awakening. Fódlan’s worldbuilding is not perfect, and sometimes has a few cringeworthy elements – in particular the King Lear references in the Alliance are a bit cheesy – but for the most part it successfully presents itself as a rich, interesting world, containing diverse cultures, and a complex history.

The sense of history is particularly important to me, especially compared to the last few games. I’m glad that the game goes to some effort to give Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester a sense of a shared past, full of rivalries and alliances. I can imagine setting other stories at different points in Fódlan’s history – Loog’s revolt, the occupation of Brigid and invasion of Dagda, the Almyran invasion, etc. – and those stories still being interesting and fun to play. I can imagine using Fódlan, perhaps centuries in the past, perhaps in the future, as a D&D campaign setting and it being quite interesting. That to me is a sign of good worldbuilding. If the world could easily play host to many different stories, not just the one I’m currently playing, then it can probably stand on its own quite well. This contrasts strongly with, say, Nohr and Hoshido, which felt like they were really just built for Corrin’s adventure.

I also appreciate that it’s not just ancient history that matters, but also the twenty years or so before the game begins. The heroes did not burst on to the scene ex nihilo, but all come out of particular historical situations. Events like the Insurrection of the Seven or the Tragedy of Duscur give you context for what happens in the game. The heroes generally have parents and families, and those families are relevant. They all come from somewhere, and while the details often aren’t described, what you get is enough to start imagining their home lives, and what might be going on elsewhere in the world. I really liked that and felt it was missing from the last few games. Can you imagine asking most of the Shepherds about their familes, or about the lands where they grew up?

Similarly, the range of visible cultures is one that I quite appreciate. Even outside Fódlan itself, mentions of Dagda, Brigid, Sreng, and Almyra help to make the world feel populated. That’s only the other regions that we know much about: there’s also Morfis, Albinea, and Mach, so the world is clearly quite large. Further, these different regions all have some noticeable cultural traits: the people of Brigid are animists and believe in many spirits, the Almyrans are a warrior culture and seem vaguely Persian, and so on. Within Fódlan there are visible differences as well, so the titular three houses are nicely differentiated.

The role of crests in shaping the continent also appealed to me. I believe I commented before that it reminds me of Birthright, an AD&D setting from the 90s that I have a soft spot for. While crests aren’t quite as powerful as Birthright’s bloodlines and don’t have exactly the same effects, the idea of aristocrats with real superpowers passed down in the bloodline, but which if abused can twist people into horrible monsters, was quite reminiscent of that setting. It’s a premise I’ve always found relatively intriguing, and I like that Three Houses does spend a little while exploring the social stratification that crests have produced. There are some interesting marriage politics going on because of crests; that’s really fun for me. Nonetheless I think the game also takes the right approach by not making crests too overpowering, and by firmly asserting that a person’s worth is not dependent on whether they have a crest or not. If it hadn’t done that, crests might have had some uncomfortable implications.

That said if I have one quibble it would be etymological. I understand that the Empire is vaguely Germano-Nordic, Leicester is vaguely English, and Faerghus is Franco-Celtic, but these aren’t always incredibly consistent, and names can sometimes be a bit surprising. The name ‘Dimitri’, for instance, stands out as being slightly out of place. I suppose its origin, ‘Demetrius’, is a Latin name and thus appropriate enough, but today I hear ‘Dimitri’ as Slavic, which doesn’t fit the established pattern for Faerghus. Still, this is a minor quibble.

The one exception to my general praise for the worldbuilding is the church, which I think is a huge mess. Maybe another route fleshes this out, but from what I played, it is extremely unclear to me how the church actually works. Was there a previous archbishop, or has Rhea been succeeding herself over and over, changing her name each time? How has the church been involved in history? We’ve had the occasional mention of cardinals, possibly with secret identities, but they’re entirely invisible and don’t seem to do anything. I would have liked more details on the church and how it fits into Fódlan’s history, because right now it feels like the anomaly, to me.

Moving on to the plot…

This had a number of issues, in my opinion.

Azure Moon was very much Dimitri’s story. In some ways I like that Byleth is simply not very important to the story. You are not the hero; you are the hero’s mentor. Byleth is more active than, say, Mark was in Blazing Sword, but still fades into the background compared to the true protagonist. However, I have to stand by the judgement that Dimitri’s redemption was too fast, and it probably would have been better to drop some of the church-related content for this route and spend more time exploring the characters and relationships that are at the heart of this story. Azure Moon is about Dimitri, Dedue, Felix, Sylvain, Annette, and probably Ingrid at the core: this rising generation of Faerghus nobility, with the long shadow of the past over them, struggling to overcome the sins of yesteryear and the cycle of revenge in order to build a better world. This story is good and I liked it, but a bit more polish and focus could have made it shine.

In terms of actual events, though, I have to say that a lot of things in the story didn’t make a lot of sense. The most obvious case is probably the rematch at Gronder Field. I understand the desire for a three-way battle there as adults, a rematch that contrasts dramatically with the mock battle they fought as students. However, as cool as the scene is, I don’t feel the set-up for it made a lot of sense: in particular Claude and Dimitri have no reason to fight each other. Dimitri might still be bloodthirsty and vengeance-obsessed, but that should translate to a charge straight at Edelgard, and Claude seems cunning enough to let that happen without getting in the way. There might surely have been better ways to set up a conflict there, especially since the writers have the get-out-of-jail-free card of a faction of evil shapeshifters trying to foment conflict. All you need is for a few Slitherers to deliver false messages or instigate a skirmish or two to start a battle based on a tragic misunderstanding.

Similarly, my confusion at the Leicester Alliance disbanding and the Kingdom absorbing the Empire remains present. I can guess that they wanted every route to end with Fódlan united into a single realm, but in this particular story it seemed strange, given how much the story had focused on freeing Faerghus from Imperial occupation and on defeating Edelgard. Dimitri’s ambitions were personal, rather than the grand schemes to reorganise Fódlan politically that both Edelgard and Claude have.

I wonder if there might be an unspoken cultural difference here? As someone from a Western European background, I am quite comfortable with the idea that many different nations can rightly exist on the same continent, and see coexisting self-determining territories as a quite good result; but perhaps in Japan it might be more natural to think that “an empire divided longs to unite”? The game begins with the territories of the ancient Adrestian Empire split into three nations now. Perhaps, like Warring States of either China or Japan, they must be united back into one? Three Houses to parallel Three Kingdoms, perhaps? The Japanese title of the game does not mention Three Houses, to be fair, but the title is an allusion to classical Chinese poetry, so I wonder what assumptions or resonances might be in the background.

Moving along, the logistics of war in general stood out to me as rather odd. I can’t tell whether you’re supposed to be canonically returning the entire army to the monastery in between every battle or not, but even if you’re not, you march all over the continent with very little regard for things like plausible logistics. Invading the Empire, winning a battle at Gronder, and then stopping to run all the way back up to Fhirdiad and liberate it in a single battle seemed particularly odd, especially when you also somehow make time to visit Arianrhod way out in the west. I wouldn’t be that strict about this in most games, but Three Houses does have that lovely detailed map and shows coloured lines with armies moving around, so I felt that it drew attention to one of its own weak points. Here I think the game contrasts negatively with the Tellius pair, which also feature a bunch of continent-wide wars, but generally seem to avoid bizarre logistics.

Finally, let’s talk about the ending. As I mentioned in one of the linked posts above, I was a bit surprised that there was no resolution to the Slitherers subplot in this arc. I liked the scene where Dimitri asks Edelgard why she did all of this before the final battle, but unfortunately they just talk about ideals. If I were Edelgard I might have mentioned the part where I did all this at the behest of – while also hoping to turn on and destroy – a faction of evil subterranean wizards who have been fomenting conflict throughout all of Fódlan’s history. I might also have mentioned the part where I believe the Church of Seiros is run by a different faction of ancient immortal manipulators, since that also seems key to understanding why Edelgard thought such drastic measures were necessary.

Perhaps that didn’t come up because if Edelgard were to mention those motives, it would quickly become apparent that she has already achieved most of her goals, and there is no more reason to fight. By the time of Edelgard and Dimitri’s fateful meeting, the Slitherers have already been defeated (albeit inadvertently, when we killed Arundel), the Church of Seiros is already shattered, Fódlan is close to being reunited under one government, and both we and Edelgard know that Dimitri wants to establish a more participatory and egalitarian form of government that should resolve some of Edelgard’s worries about crests. If Edelgard were the utilitarian fighting for the greater good that she portrays herself as, she could simply surrender, arrange the sort of peace treaty that Dimitri clearly wants, share all her knowledge with Dimitri and Byleth, and work for a brighter future together.

The final cutscene was thus quite striking to me. By ‘Light and Shadow’, it is extremely clear that the war is over. Even if Edelgard were somehow to successfully kill Dimitri, she would be killed immediately afterwards, and no good could come of it. But Edelgard cannot surrender. It is the one thing she cannot do, that she will never do. After the heart of the story was Dimitri’s redemption, and his painful struggle to turn away from his crimes and start anew, it seems appropriate to draw this line between them.

Both Dimitri and Edelgard did terrible things: he from vengeful passion, she from sincere belief it was for the best. But he could change his ways, grow, and find a new beginning. She never could. At the midpoint of Azure Moon, Byleth offers Dimitri his hand, and taking that hand and accepting help is the point at which Dimitri’s redemption begins. At the end, Dimitri, having learned this lesson, offers Edelgard his hand… but she does not take it.

There were plenty of places where I thought the plot could be improved, in terms of time, pacing, focus, and even practical things like why certain battles happen or how troops get there. But ultimately the story worked for me, I think, because the emotions worked. I can excuse a lot of nonsense if I care about the characters and the emotions resonate. I would rather do that than have a story that makes perfect logistical sense, but in which all the characters are flat and boring.

Next time I’ll talk more about supports and all the other characters.