Playing Dishonored instills a strange mix of vulnerability
and strength, where I’m given a superhero’s ability set but feel like I’m
always one mistake away from death. Errors are severely punished by aggressive
enemies, and because powers are tied to a limited mana resource, they can’t be
spammed. I can’t simply blanket an area with rats. I can’t use my wind blast
ability to repeatedly knock aside any that stand in my way. I need to be
careful about timing, precision, and chaining abilities together in an effective
manner.
Exploration is also rewarded. Opportunities for discovery
are all over Dishonored’s fictional city of Dunwall, where a plague eats away
at the poor and hardens the insularity of the ruling class. When I fled to the
rooftops, for instance, I found an open window that led to a porch where a
nervous looking man gripped the railing. I snuck up and choked him, then pulled
a special item from a nearby pile of junk that I could use to augment my
abilities.
There aren’t a huge number of abilities in Dishonored, and
each can be leveled in ways that not only strengthen but alter functionality.
The possession ability initially allows me to inhabit the bodies of rats and
fish, sometimes to escape, sometimes to squeeze through small spaces to access
alternate paths to guarded structures or enter otherwise locked treasure rooms.
With an upgrade to the ability I can possess humans. Though the possession time
isn’t long, that means I can more easily disrupt a patrol path or walk a guard
to his doom. The wind blast ability initially knocks down enemies and shatters
doors, but after an upgrade it can actually kill foes by slamming them into
walls. By combining these active abilities with the different weapon types and
passive enhancements, it seems like the number of ways to solve problems will
only increase further on in the game, ideally leading to some outstanding
climactic missions.
My mission in this particular instance was to infiltrate a
party at a mansion and take out a target named Lady Boyle. Unfortunately three
at the party shared the name, so another part of my mission was to discover the
proper target. First I accessed the facility by blinking through an open hole
in a sewer grate and breaking into the mansion’s basement. Then I reloaded and
blinked over the front gate, where I plucked a fallen party invite from the
ground and handed it to the guard, who promptly led me inside.
This mansion’s courtyard and interior were not hostile
spaces – in fact most at the party seemed happy to see me and impressed with my
menacing outfit. It was a costume party where all wore masks, which ranged from
subtly unsettling to outright bizarre. One particularly uptight partygoer wore
a full-head whale mask, and the woman he was talking to wore a moth mask
complete with pluming antennae. When he left she turned to me and asked for a
drink. I went back to the buffet table across which was laid a colossal
glistening fish gutted open and steaming and scooped a cup of cider out of a
fountain. She thanked me and in return revealed the identities of two of the
Boyle ladies wandering around the party in identical outfits. I snuck upstairs
past a guard and plucked a note from a desk to uncover the identity of the true
target.
I didn’t have to do any of that. I could have walked into
the mansion and shot the first innocent I saw. I could have moved between the
rest of the terrified revelers and snatched their coin purses while slashing at
any guards who got in the way. I could have tried to kill everything in the
building instead of investigate. When I eventually did attack, the fights
proved to be fast and unforgiving. Enemies shot guns and blocked and dodged and
did seemingly everything they could to avoid taking damage while continuing to
deal it.
A particularly striking element of the scene was how Arkane
was able to hide threats in plain sight. Several characters standing around the
party held what looked like sci-fi accordions and I assumed they were there to
provide entertainment. But as soon as I plunged my sword into a guard’s neck
they started playing and generated an anti-magic field that inhibited my
abilities. Suddenly they’re the biggest threat in the room, whereas moments
before they seemed a perfectly fitting part of the backdrop. Tricks like that
work because Arkane built such a densely detailed dinner scene where everything
seemed to be in the right place and appropriately extravagant.
Dishonored is so exciting to me not only because it rewards
creative gameplay, but because so much care was clearly taken to build a place
with enough layers and moving pieces to give it a curious plausibility, to make
it seem like every time you push it pushes right back.
