When the Dragon's Dogma 2 The loading screen announces that I probably don't have to worry about dying from a big fall, I'm glad. This means I can escape from ledges with impunity, because the game says my pawn – my ever-loyal companion, my protector, and my sentient extra inventory – “can break your fall.” I test this statement immediately and instantly by crepe on cold hard rock. I don't even have time to struggle or scream – my body simply submits to gravity. I'm dead, my pawns are nowhere in sight, and I'm playing my favorite game of the year so far.
Capcom's long-awaited sequel the dogma of the Dragon follows largely the same formula: an action RPG set in a medieval fantasy world where existence is defined by the duality of a Dragon and its potential slayer, a singular Arisen (the former chooses the latter within him tearing out the heart). The Dragon is a harbinger of the end times, and the Risen Ones, who have the power to control characters called pawns, must fulfill their destiny by killing it. This time, the Arisen's sworn duty is to serve as Sovran in Vermund's kingdom, which proves to be a struggle as the game opens with my royal self waking up in a prison camp.
But we're not here to talk about me. We're here to talk about Oni Peepaws.
Pawns are creatures of the Rift, a blue limbo where they wait for Arisen in other realms (i.e. other players) to summon them. I created my main pawn in the image of my cat; we won't analyze this decision any further than the fact that they are both very good boys, very loud. Oni Peepaws is an imposing ginger cat, although I doubt anyone could tell tiger to his face – he's a proud Beastren, a breed of cat originating from neighboring Battahl. Using a Riftstone, I keep two additional pawns to complete my group: the pawn of a friend named Lady Omelet and a third random one. It's an understatement to say that the pawns constitute the backbone of the game. They are, in my mind, the incredibly pure and anarchic heart of its fundamental identity.
Lady Omelette takes orders. She is 15 levels above me, having been created a few days earlier, and has seen a lot more of the world than the rest of us. When she wants my attention, she waves and does a little dance to indicate the way forward for the quest I've prioritized. The pawns strategize, gossip, learn from each other, and gather knowledge to bring back to their own masters, each going about their business according to their behavior pattern. Oni Peepaws, like his namesake, are independent and a little haughty; Lady Omelet is talkative and a bit bossy. They push me to scale cliffs and walk Byzantine paths to reach a dark chest containing a single bottle of lantern oil. Sometimes the pawns bicker nicely about their different tactics. I am criticized, praised, scolded and finally, after falling from a big monster, caught and saved by a pawn. My Arisen is surrounded by a noisy swirl of love, and it's beautiful.
Later in the game, I rotate my two support pawns like in an RPG version of Mambo #5. There's Rita, a slightly maniacal mage who destroys all the boxes and creatures in her path to see what's inside. There's Kratos – I've seen at least two wandering around the rift – who I accidentally lost during a Benny Hill-style chess sequence on a rope bridge. I meet Abby on the road. She speaks fluent Elvish and I choose her because it is impossible to deal with elves without a translator. Steve is an Astarion lookalike with a sweet tooth; a thief named Princess annoys me because she hangs around.
When we come across slapstick new ways to kill enemies, the other pawns are excited by the prospect of sharing new strategies with their masters. Whenever possible, I help pawns complete their individual quests (tasks assigned to them by their masters) so that they can return home victorious. (Not all pawns belong to other players; there are official ones “owned” by Capcom, but where's the fun in that?) The final party I threw to take on the Dragon was a team made up entirely of catboys, a strategy I silently swear by. to adopt as a lucky charm.
Oni Peepaws goes on adventures when I log out and returns to share his successes and failures. In one travelogue, he vaguely describes “suffering many injustices” at the hands of another Arisen, and I am filled with burning indignation. An early death in the game (pawns don't die but must be revived) leaves him slightly shaken, and he dwells on this “failure” as we complete a mundane escort quest. As I sift through other pawns in the rift, I cling to Oni – in all his myriad forms as I make him try out different classes and builds – as both comforting and constant. There are many like him, but he's mine, and I think about what he does while I'm offline and wonder what he's learning, not just from other players but from other pawns as well.
My pawns discuss the disturbing rumor of Dragonsplague, which would make them hostile and unmanageable. The disease spreads like a hot potato. According to a friend, I can “cure” Oni by letting him go to another realm and infecting someone else's pawn. The problem is that I don't know what the symptoms are; an in-game pop-up explains that pawns won't even know if they are infected. It doesn't take me long to find out, spotting Oni with bright red eyes, oblivious to his predicament. As a safety measure, I strip him of his belongings and his armor; that's when I notice that my third pawn, Xun, is hiding red eyes under his low-brimmed hat. To be even safer, I throw all three of them into the sea, where the Brine dissolves their flesh and returns them to the rift. When I pick up Oni, he apologizes for his failure.
The truth is, I'm the one who's sick. Maybe I didn't finish the first one the dogma of the Dragonbut I'm on my way to becoming one sick dogma. Pawns are not just core gameplay mechanics, but key to how the game so brilliantly embraces the constraints of storytelling and artifice. There is no attempt to equate this pawn vanity with sound facts or a sense of “immersion.” This is a story about how stories are told and retold – through pawns and players – and about the body of knowledge that forms between the bones of this shared tradition. There's nothing immersive about constantly being reminded of the setting in which Vermund and Battahl exist.
Instead, it's a delightfully imperfect trinity of emergent storytelling, ambient multiplayer, and the eternal adage of shit happens – and sometimes that's all you need from three weird little guys for an amazing adventure.
Dragon's Dogma 2 is available now on PC, PS5 and Xbox Series X/S.
