As I eagerly stepped into the vibrant world ofDragon’s Dogma 2, my heart brimming with anticipation, I envisioned a grand adventure filled with mythical beasts, thrilling battles, and the promise of forging meaningful connections with the diverse array of characters populating this fantastical realm. Little did I know, however, that my journey would be colored by a bittersweet realization, leaving me, a queer male gamer, feeling somewhat unfulfilled amidst the awe-inspiring landscapes and epic quests that lay ahead.
My type of hero wasn’t as welcome as the many adventurers who would come to the game.
Off On A Less Colorful Journey
Traversing through Dragon’s Dogma 2, accompanied by theeclectic mix of Pawns belonging to my friends, each contributing their unique skills and quirks to our adventure, I found myself swept up in moments of awe and excitement. The camaraderie we shared made every encounter with mythical creatures and daunting challenges feel like a fully immersive and endlessly entertaining journey.
Yet, amidst the thrill of exploration and battle, there lingered a palpable sense of disappointment, casting a shadow over my otherwise exhilarating experience. This feeling of disillusionment stemmed primarily from the glaring absence of meaningful representation and romance options for queer male characters like mine.
Reflecting on my experience with thefirst installment of the series, I recalled the poignant connection I had forged with Reynard, a traveling peddler whose presence served as a constant source of motivation and companionship. From our initial encounter on Seabreeze Trail to the multistep quests that kept him intertwined with my journey, Reynard became more than just a merchant — he was my confidant, my ally, and my friend. The task of protecting him from the dragon’s assault added a layer of urgency and personal investment that enriched my gameplay experience in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
However, in Dragon’s Dogma 2, this sense of intimacy and connection seemed to have evaporated into thin air. Despite the game’s vast world and myriad of quests, the absence of a character like Reynard left a noticeable void, a reminder of the profound impact meaningful interactions can have on the player experience.
The closest I got to such an experience wasfollowing Glyndwr’s storyline.
Dragon’s Dogma 2 Really Needs A Transmog System
Everyone knows that glamor is the true end game.
Headcanon Is My Only Romance Option
As I navigated the bustling streets of Vernworth, I stumbled upon Glyndwr standing outside the armory in Merchant’s Square. Our encounter sparked the beginning of a remarkable journey, as I embarked on his quest chain, starting with the simple yet meaningful task of gifting him a human-made bow. Together, we honed his skills in Sacred Arbor, forming a bond through shared challenges and mutual respect.
… the word “friend” flashing on the screen served as a stark reminder of the game’s shortcomings in acknowledging and validating queer relationships.
As we delved deeper into Glyndwr’s narrative, I was captivated by his connection to the elven people and the taboos he challenged alongside me. Our journey reached a pivotal moment when Glyndwr revealed his sister’s capture by an ogre, pleading for my aid in her rescue. Racing against time, armed with gemstones and wine to speed our journey, the tension of the rescue mission only served to heighten the burgeoning connection between us.
Despite the trials we faced together and the tokens of affection Glyndwr left during his visits, the narrative failed to fully explore the potential for a deeper romantic connection. As ambiguity shrouded our relationship, I couldn’t help but wonder about the untapped possibilities of a love story transcending boundaries, lost amidst the winds of narrative uncertainty.
The game only offers two romance options, both of which are female characters, Ulrika and Wilhelmina. While this validates the experiences of straight male and queer female players, it leaves individuals like myself on the sidelines, feeling excluded and overlooked. This limitation was disappointing, especially in light of the potential for a more inclusive and evolved romance system hinted at by the success of similar games like Baldur’s Gate 3. I had to face the fact that headcanon would be what got me through the rest of the game.
Wilhelmina’s Story In Dragon’s Dogma 2 Left Me Hanging
Wilhelmina deserves justice.
Limping Across The Finish Line
Faced with this disappointing reality, I found solace in the game’s armor system, which surprisingly allowed all Arisen characters to equip “women’s clothing.” This inclusivity provided a welcome opportunity for self-expression, allowing me to dress my character in scantily clad armor — a subtle yet empowering way to express his queerness and find much-needed validation. I vividly recall one particular outfit where I changed his hairstyle, giving him an almost nonbinary Princess Leia look, which felt like a personal triumph in embracing my own identity within the game. Yet, even with these creative liberties, the absence of meaningful romantic connections continued to gnaw at the edges of my enjoyment, reminding me of the game’s missed opportunities for inclusivity.
As I reached the conclusion of the game, a sense of emptiness settled over me like a heavy fog. Despite completing the after story and lingering for a while longer in the world of Dragon’s Dogma 2, I couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment and disillusionment. The realization that male queerness was nearly absent from the game cast a shadow over my entire experience, leaving me with a sense of longing and frustration. Even as I witnessed Glyndwr chasing the dragon that my Pawn had transformed into, a scene that should have been filled with triumph and excitement, the word “friend” flashing on the screen served as a stark reminder of the game’s shortcomings in acknowledging and validating queer relationships.
Despite these feelings of despondency, a glimmer of hope remains on the horizon. Capcom’s willingness to engage with fans and solicit feedback about the game’s future offers a ray of optimism. Perhaps, with enough voices advocating for a more inclusive romance system and the opportunity to deepen relationships with characters like Glyndwr, the developers will heed our calls for change. Until then, I hold onto the hope that future iterations of Dragon’s Dogma will offer a more diverse and fulfilling gaming experience for players like myself.
