• Dragon Age II

    Dragon Age II is an enjoyable and complex role-playing game, featuring expansive questing in a fantasy world tinged with political intrigue. During this lengthy adventure, you face gigantic dragons, villainous mages, and greedy slavers, all while exercising the power of choice to steer various story elements as you see fit. It's often terrific, even if it doesn't meet the standard set by Dragon Age: Origins..

  • Dead Space 2

    Isaac Clarke, the unluckiest space engineer of the 26th century, is more unfortunate than ever in Dead Space 2. 2008's superb Dead Space took the style of survival horror shooter action exemplified by games like Resident Evil 4 and meshed it with an atmospheric deep-space setting and some terrific, distinctly sci-fi gameplay elements, creating something that felt simultaneously familiar and unique. Dead Space 2, on the other hand, will feel thoroughly familiar to those who have played the original; its few improvements over Dead Space are minor tweaks rather than game changers. But blasting the limbs off of hideous necromorphs remains tremendously satisfying, and although the pacing lags a bit during the game's middle portions, this second outing packs more than enough scares and surprises to make stepping back into Isaac Clarke's suit extremely worthwhile.

  • BulletStrom

    Sci-fi first-person shooter Bulletstorm is a celebration of adolescent crassness. It is neither artful nor sophisticated, proudly wearing strings of obscenities as a badge of dishonor. Subtle it isn't; entertaining, it is. Where the meatheaded characters and forced, childish dialogue fail, the gameplay mostly succeeds, pushing you through a variety of attractive environments and encouraging you to "kill with skill." In Bulletstorm, you earn points by kicking your enemies into cacti, shooting them in the rear end, and flinging them into the air with your electric leash, among many other variations and combinations of bullets, boots, and exploding barrels. You spend these points on ammo, weapon upgrades, and more, giving you reason to perform these moves beyond the initial gratification they provide. Bulletstorm is sometimes ludicrous and often ludicrously fun--an enjoyable and occasionally embarrassing journey to the profane future it predicts. The Confederation of Planets' General Sarrano is a product of this future...

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Maybe it's not so good to be the king. Monster Kingdom, the third expansion for the real-time king simulation Majesty 2, sees your titular character booted off the throne and sent into exile with just his sidekick for company. Scrambling to get back to power requires cozying up to the creatures that you spent most of your time killing in the previous entries in this franchise, which gives this add-on a different vibe from its predecessors. While the gameplay formula remains focused on managing a fantasy kingdom by decree, everything is freshened up because you can boss around creepy ratmen and liches instead of the heroes of the earlier games. This isn't going to turn around non-fans or spark those who have gotten bored with the series, but the inventive premise and somewhat scaled-down difficulty result in a game that's a step above its lackluster and brutally hard predecessors, and also offers a number of core gameplay enhancements that make the campaign more playable.


Everything should be familiar to veterans of Majesty 2 and its Kingmaker and Battles of Ardania expansions. The heart of the gameplay has been carried over intact to Monster Kingdom. You still play as an anonymous monarch being advised by a toady, and control remains one step removed from you. Although you order up buildings and units like in a typical real-time strategy game, you never have direct control over troops. Instead, you place flags offering rewards to units that explore the map, attack enemy lairs, and defend structures. Offer enough gold as a bounty, and the unwashed masses will leap to your aid. As with the earlier games in the franchise, this is good and bad. Hands-off management makes you feel like a real ruler since you can only motivate subjects to do your bidding. But this also lends the game a certain aloofness because you feel a step removed from the action.
With that said, mechanics have been improved. Units here seem to hop to it faster than they did before, responding more quickly when you plop down flags. They still take their time, and will occasionally ignore vital goals as you jack up the attached reward to the point of depleting the treasury. But the wait never drags out so long that you want to put out an APB. Monsters also seem to be handier when you need them, especially for defense tasks. When your buildings are being demolished by rampaging giant spiders, for instance, defenders are always there to help. Before, your troops often seemed to be goldbricking so much that you started to think they'd gone and joined a union. This alone makes the campaign a more enjoyable romp than those in previous Majesty 2 releases.




Virtually all of the content comes in the new single-player campaign, which is structured similarly to those in the previous Majesty 2 games. You proceed through the saga in linear steps, completing one mission before unlocking the next one. The scenarios play out as a drive to make it back to the throne with the assistance of the monsters that used to be your archenemies. Missions are sort of a Bizarro World version of the usual Majesty 2 shtick, with you fighting to recruit ratmen, goblins, liches, minotaurs, and the like, at times actively reversing the gains made against these beasts in the earlier games. Some of the fantasy atmosphere of this wannabe epic is lost as a barrage of typos appear in almost every text box that pops up on the screen, but the story is more intriguing than the random scuffles slapped together to make up last year's Battles of Ardania.
Much of Monster Kingdom's appeal relies on the cool factor of fielding monsters in place of human, elven, and dwarven warriors, clerics, and mages. The basic structure of gameplay hasn't been altered, however, so you follow the same philosophies as in previous games when constructing guilds, markets, guard towers, bazaars, and so forth. Units are used the same way as well. Troops look different and come with new special abilities, spells, and weapons, but really you're playing the same old game with evil monsters in place of the good guys. So a mage is still a mage, and an archer is still an archer. Switching sides livens everything up, though. Just listening to the new order acknowledgments as well as the random comments from vampire tax collectors as they do their rounds gives the game a whole new vibe.
The frustration factor has also been lessened. Where the two previous add-ons were murderously hard, plopping you down in the midst of umpteen monster lairs that generated waves of skeletons, wolves, and those extremely obnoxious bearmen, Monster Kingdom eases things up a bit, particularly in the first few missions. This is still an extremely tough game, thanks to goodies like indestructible spider-generating garbage heaps on your doorstep and routine destructive flyovers by the likes of level-20 dragons. But it doesn't seem so much like the game is actively cheating you with unfair surprises around every corner. You've at least got a chance to beat a mission the first time through, which leads to much less trial and error. You're more likely to get hooked on the unique kingdom-management gameplay than to throw your mouse across the room, which is a real step forward.

If you're tired of Majesty 2's core gameplay after the original game and its multiple expansions, there probably isn't anything in Monster Kingdom that will revive your interest. But this is still a noticeably better effort than the two previous add-ons, with an innovative campaign, a much more reasonable level of difficulty (particularly in the early stages), and some tweaks to basic mechanics that ease up the sense of frustration that accompanied setting down mission flags in the earlier games. It's definitely worth a look for anyone still up for some hands-off kingdom management.


Sci-fi first-person shooter Bulletstorm is a celebration of adolescent crassness. It is neither artful nor sophisticated, proudly wearing strings of obscenities as a badge of dishonor. Subtle it isn't; entertaining, it is. Where the meatheaded characters and forced, childish dialogue fail, the gameplay mostly succeeds, pushing you through a variety of attractive environments and encouraging you to "kill with skill." In Bulletstorm, you earn points by kicking your enemies into cacti, shooting them in the rear end, and flinging them into the air with your electric leash, among many other variations and combinations of bullets, boots, and exploding barrels. You spend these points on ammo, weapon upgrades, and more, giving you reason to perform these moves beyond the initial gratification they provide. Bulletstorm is sometimes ludicrous and often ludicrously fun--an enjoyable and occasionally embarrassing journey to the profane future it predicts.
The Confederation of Planets' General Sarrano is a product of this future. This potty-mouthed, wholly abhorrent man is part of a secret army called Dead Echo--as was Grayson Hunt, a grunt who discovered that the targets that Sarrano ordered his team to execute were innocent of wrongdoing. Years later, a drunken Grayson, thirsty for revenge, leads his crew of mercenaries into a battle they're ill-prepared to win. Grayson and Sarrano both crash-land on the planet Stygia, where Grayson's quest for vengeance is coupled with his plan to escape. As Grayson, you are accompanied by Ishi, a colleague constantly fighting to control the robotic AI used to patch his brain after he's injured during Grayson's alcohol-fueled rampage.

Ishi is Bulletstorm's best character: conflicted, temperamental, and unpredictable. Nevertheless, praising any of this game's characters is somewhat of a backhanded compliment, given their shallow penchant for describing events, emotions, and each other using four-letter words combined in various nonsensical ways. A few of these bizarre outbreaks of sexual innuendo might be absurd enough to put a momentary grin on your face, but the cringe-worthy dialogue isn't coupled with, say, Duke Nukem 3D's hysterical hypersexual excess, Serious Sam's vibrant surreality, or Vanquish's tongue-in-cheek skewering of modern video game machismo. In fact, Bulletstorm's finest narrative moments are those that leave the trashy talk behind and touch ever-so-briefly on Grayson's guilty conscience, and his attempts to help Ishi conquer the AI infesting his mind. Unfortunately, the verbal sleaze gets tiring quickly and undermines any attempt at serious storytelling. Perhaps developer People Can Fly meant for this dialogue to be so over the top as to be side-splittingly funny. Instead, it comes across as a forced attempt to appeal to our basest instincts.
And so Bulletstorm lacks wit, but it has no shortage of entertaining, in-your-face action. The six-hour campaign is packed with fun shooting made even more enjoyable by the way you earn rewards for being awesome. Your awesomeness begins with the energy leash, which lets you grab foes from afar and yank them toward you. Doing so causes them to helplessly hover in the air for a few seconds as if the laws of time and gravity were temporarily suspended just for that particular enemy. This moment of stasis is your chance to kick screaming masked mercenaries into electric fields, fill their heads with lead, and drop exploding crates onto them. You can slide into them at great speed and knock them off cliffs, use airlocks to send them into the vacuum of space, and feed them to flesh-eating plants. These clever kills are called skillshots and are accompanied by a pop-up proudly proclaiming the name of your move and how many points you earned from it.


Skillshots have such names as "Rear Entry" (a kill involving shooting an enemy in the hindquarters) and "Mercy" (shooting an enemy in the groin and then killing him with a headshot). The immature innuendo thematically ties the gameplay to the narrative, but the fun doesn't come from the titles of the skillshots; it comes from the discovery of new ones and the successful performance of ones you already know. Various environments give you different ways of exterminating Sarrano's cronies, letting you use poisonous pods, swarms of killer flies, and electrified billboards to your advantage. It also gives you a number of excellent and enjoyable weapons to wield, which have specific skillshots attached to them as well. The assault rifle and shotgun are much as you would expect, but a few of these deadly instruments give you intriguing ways of dealing with your screaming foes. The most interesting of these is the flailgun, which fires two grenades linked together by a chain. The chain wraps around your target and immobilizes him, and then you detonate the grenades, annihilating your enemy--and possibly many other enemies in the blast radius. These weapons also have exciting secondary modes. For instance, with the revolver known as the screamer, you can fire a flare into enemies that launches them into the air before exploding and setting fire to nearby grunts.
These elements come together in enjoyable and interesting ways, and when you are surrounded by enemies, the tempo is quick and satisfying. You can slide along the ground and into a foe, which recalls the rocket sliding mechanic in 2010's Vanquish. While that game progressed at a breakneck pace that Bulletstorm never approaches, the similar mechanic here still produces moments of slick energy that culminate in spurts of blood and piercing shrieks. You can exercise crowd control with the leash's Thumper upgrade by slamming your whip down and launching enemies into the air, where they hang for several moments while you fire at them with abandon. There's a lot happening much of the time, with explosions filling the screen, mutants covered with bulbous growths charging at you, and lumbering minibosses demanding your attention. Even so, Bulletstorm makes you feel skillful, for two main reasons. Firstly, a smooth difficulty curve and frequent weapon upgrades allow you to keep up with your increasingly challenging enemies. Secondly, the skillshot notifications serve as a constant reminder of how talented you are. You even earn points for certain mundane actions, such as holding down a mouse button to view a scripted event.
Other aspects of Bulletstorm are more run-of-the-mill. Debris always falls in such a way as to force you down a very linear path, as it so often does in first-person shooters. This linearity is emphasized by the game's wholly contextual jumping. (You can leap over objects only when the game gives you the button prompt.) It can also lead to overcrowded battles in which your companion (or later in the game, two companions) has a tendency to get in your way when you want to perform a particular skillshot, or just stay in control of the action. Bulletstorm's most disappointing moments come near the end, in the form of an easy not-quite-a-boss-fight, followed by a passable shooting sequence that never reaches a proper climax. Then there's the post-credits epilogue, which is so cliched and predictable, it's almost indistinguishable from Killzone 3's own sequel tease.


Fortunately, other missions do a better job of ramping up the excitement. In an early on-rails sequence, you fire a minigun at gyrocopters and speeding carriers--par for the course for many modern shooters, but made thrilling by the gargantuan, menacing wheel of death barreling across your view. Another entertaining mission has you remotely controlling a giant monster in a fun park, just after a shoot-out in a miniature replica city that serves as Bulletstorm's most clever locale. Other attempts to increase the stakes are pleasingly cinematic in their visual excess, but are mostly bark without bite. For example, a battle versus a Venus flytrap with an attitude is nice to watch, but requires almost no skill. After all, a boss has little impact when you don't fear its power. The game's minibosses are standard for sci-fi shooters: shoot the glowing object on the hulk's back, and attack him when he's down. (You might have already fought carbon copies of these bosses in numerous other games.) Your great arsenal gives you enough ways to destroy these muscular freaks to make it fun to take them on. Nevertheless, Bulletstorm is at its best when it sticks to its basic premise, letting you fling your whip around and fire the weapon of your choice, all while you charge through its outstanding environments.

Those inviting environments provide much of Bulletstorm's appeal. Skulking through the dark interior of a space vessel or an industrial warehouse doesn't reveal many visual delights, but the majority of the game takes place on the Stygian surface, which is gorgeous to look at. Under a beautiful blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds, ivy grows across arching overhangs and domed gazebos. In a later level, a dazzling lightning storm makes an intense battle all the more fearful. Most outdoor environments are saturated with greens and blues, which contrasts with some of the grotesque enemy designs, giving this planet the look of a paradise lost. The soundtrack isn't as noteworthy as the art design, though the subtle, satisfying musical cue that ends each battle is an effective pat on the back for another well-fought battle. More notable are the bloodcurdling wails emitted by the savages you exterminate--another way Bulletstorm makes you feel like an unstoppable murder machine.

Finishing the campaign doesn't mean the Bulletstorm experience must come to a close. You can also take part in its lone multiplayer mode, which is fun for a while, but limited in scope. The mode is called Anarchy, and it has you fending off waves of enemies with up to three other players. This is a common cooperative setup (think Horde mode in Gears of War 2, or Halo 3: ODST's Firefight), but the cool weapons and energy leash give Anarchy a dash of flavor. More important to the online experience are the team skillshots, in which players must cooperate to earn the most points. The game often indicates that killing a particular enemy with a specific team skillshot will shower you with extra points, but this requires cooperation. Each round requires the team to earn enough points to pass, and in between rounds, you spend points on new weapons and on upgrades to stats like speed and defense. This reliance on teamwork can be both rewarding and frustrating. On one hand, pulling off a last-minute rally by completing a team skillshot on your final remaining grunt is exciting. On the other, a lone wolf can ruin everything with a single errant shot. If you want the best Anarchy experience, it's best to play with friends rather than strangers, lest you get stuck taking on the same wave time and time again.

Anarchy is fun, but the joy is relatively short-lived. It's enjoyable to kick an enemy into an energy cyclone or over a ledge, but after you do it several dozen times on the disappointingly small maps, it loses its newness, and you will long for more variety. (The repetitive, obscene goading of the announcer doesn't help matters.) You may also encounter some technical troubles. Even on a lightning-fast connection, lag can sometimes be a problem, and on occasion you might be unable to progress to the next round because the game insists that there are more enemies left to kill, though none can be found. Bulletstorm's lasting value comes instead from Echoes mode, in which you repeat short sections of the single-player campaign. This is where you can see how skilled you truly are. Each Echoes map comes with a par time, and you earn points not just for pulling off incredible skillshots, but for doing it as fast as you can. These bite-size levels are addictive, encouraging you to shave off precious seconds and best your previous score, all while chasing friends and strangers on the online leaderboards.
Bulletstorm is a fun, breezy, and puerile romp. If you play games for the fun of it all, this shooter delivers, giving you some neat weapons and mechanics, and rewarding you for your topflight technique. Unspectacular online play, an abundance of shooter cliches, and forced vulgarity keep it from joining the shooter elite. But the creativity of the skillshot system paired with the engrossing nature of moving up the Echoes leaderboards gives Bulletstorm some muscle and will inspire a dedicated following of talented players eager to show off their incredible mastery of its gratifying mechanics.



Isaac Clarke, the unluckiest space engineer of the 26th century, is more unfortunate than ever in Dead Space 2. 2008's superb Dead Space took the style of survival horror shooter action exemplified by games like Resident Evil 4 and meshed it with an atmospheric deep-space setting and some terrific, distinctly sci-fi gameplay elements, creating something that felt simultaneously familiar and unique. Dead Space 2, on the other hand, will feel thoroughly familiar to those who have played the original; its few improvements over Dead Space are minor tweaks rather than game changers. But blasting the limbs off of hideous necromorphs remains tremendously satisfying, and although the pacing lags a bit during the game's middle portions, this second outing packs more than enough scares and surprises to make stepping back into Isaac Clarke's suit extremely worthwhile. In addition, a new multiplayer component successfully translates Dead Space's particular breed of dismemberment-focused combat into a pulse-pounding team-based experience that casts you as both humans and as the foul necromorphs. As long as you've got the stomach for it, Dead Space 2 is one sci-fi horror thrill ride you definitely want to take.
The first few moments of Dead Space 2 smartly accomplish a good deal in a very short amount of time. We get a glimpse into Isaac's psychological state, his psyche still tormented by the painful loss he experienced on the Ishimura during the events of the first game. We also learn that the three years since then have been little more than a blur to Isaac--he's in some kind of hospital facility, but has only the vaguest memories of his time there. And almost before you can say "necromorph outbreak," you take control of Isaac as he runs for his life from the hideous creatures who, for reasons that aren't immediately clear, have suddenly appeared and started slaughtering the human population here in the Sprawl, a vast urban area on Titan, Saturn's largest moon. Isaac, who said not a word in the original game, has a voice here, and although he's a bit bland as a character, the intensity of the action that surrounds him makes you feel invested in his desperate struggle for survival. Revealing glimpses into the world of Dead Space--such as a trek through a Unitology center that sheds light on the inner workings of the church whose activity is inextricably linked to the necromorph outbreaks--keep the momentum rolling during the early chapters. The game later falls into predictable rhythms for a while, but it picks up steam again toward the end, as the story goes to some unexpected and exciting places and puts almost as much emphasis on Isaac's struggle against his own demons of guilt and regret as on his battles against the necromorphs.
But those battles against the hideous undead mutations remain front and center, where they belong. The key to dropping necromorphs is still blasting off their often frighteningly pointy limbs, which you do with a number of repurposed mining tools and a few actual guns, all of which feel powerful and are immensely fun to use. All of the weapons from Dead Space return in this sequel, including the plasma cutter and the line gun, which fire beams of energy capable of slicing necromorph limbs clean off. Another returning weapon is the ripper, a terrific tool whose spinning blade can result in a noisy, grisly end to necromorphs who make the mistake of getting too close to you. And there are a few new weapons as well: the detonator lets you place laser-triggered trip mines to set explosive traps for approaching necromorphs, and the javelin gun fires spikes at such a tremendous velocity that any necromorph unfortunate enough to be in their path is likely to find itself impaled to a wall. Targeting the abominations and annihilating them feels great and works equally effectively whether you opt to play with a controller or with a keyboard and mouse, so you can opt for your preferred control method without suffering any disadvantage.
As you progress, you can upgrade your weapons with nodes that you collect, making them noticeably more effective at limb-ripping and laying waste to necromorphs, resulting in a satisfying sense of progression. What's more, it seems kinesis technology has seen remarkable advances in the three years since Isaac's fateful trip to the Ishimura, and it's now a much more effective offensive tool. Using this ability to pick up severed necromorph limbs or any of the sharp rods conveniently scattered across the Sprawl and hurl them at necromorphs is no substitute for a trusty plasma rifle by your side, but it works well in a pinch. There's a delicious feeling of dishing out poetic justice in turning the necromorphs' own limbs against them, and making use of this tactic is an effective way to conserve your often very limited ammo supply.


The Sprawl's pressurized environment also occasionally offers a spectacularly reckless and dramatic way to eliminate some necromorphs. Certain rooms have windows that you can easily shatter with a shot of your weapon or a hurled object. The instant you do so, everything in the room--furniture, necromorphs, and you--is rapidly pulled toward the window as the air rushes out into the vacuum of space. To save yourself, as you are being pulled toward the opening, you must quickly shoot a sensor that brings a metallic emergency door down over it. It's a risky and thrilling maneuver that brings some action-movie-style craziness to what is often a more grim and atmospheric adventure. These Hollywood set-piece moments and others that involve speeding trains, pursuits by massive necromorphs, and other surprises are great, but they're not entirely enough to keep things from falling into a predictable rhythm for much of the second half. Still, things start revving up again as you approach the conclusion, and the outrageous final moments make for an intense and truly memorable climax.

Despite your powerful and satisfying arsenal, you still feel as if you're in constant danger, and that's never more the case than when you're faced with a few of the terrifying new types of necromorphs that make their debuts here. One new variety, called the pack, resembles a twisted version of a human toddler. Individually very weak, these terrors run at you in groups, emitting bloodcurdling shrieks all the while, and if one manages to leap up onto you, it can cause tremendous damage. The other new standout necromorph type is called a stalker. These hunters display an intelligence previously unseen in necromorphs, making use of cover to try to stay hidden from you until they decide to strike, charging at you with incredible speed. It's particularly satisfying to hit one of these charging beasts with your very useful stasis ability, stopping it in its tracks before blasting it to bits. On the other hand, these creatures are so speedy and so prone to charge at you when your back is turned that Isaac's slow turning ability can at times become less a source of tension than a source of frustration.
Stasis remains an invaluable part of your arsenal, but turnabout is fair play, and the bile of another new necromorph type, the puker, slows you down almost as much as your stasis ability slows the necromorphs down, leaving you extremely vulnerable for a short period of time. All of these new necromorph threats fit in perfectly with all the returning varieties from the first game, creating a diverse and deadly assortment of both short- and long-range attackers to keep you constantly on edge as you make your way across the Sprawl. Unfortunately, as in the first game, the camera sometimes contributes to the challenge. When you're backed up against a wall and a necromorph gets too close to you, the camera often won't show you your assailant, and targeting the creature can require you to move around to get a decent angle, which is frustrating when your health is rapidly being slashed away.
You might think that with no mission captain issuing orders to Isaac, this time your objectives might be more diverse and engaging than the go-here, fix-this tasks Isaac was saddled with in Dead Space. Alas, that's not the case. Isaac must still play galactic repairman; you need to fix elevators, deactivate AIs, align solar arrays, repair drills, and so on, none of which is terribly exciting. The occasional simple puzzles you encounter and a basic hacking minigame you must frequently complete provide nice little breaks from all the dismembering, though. Solving those puzzles sometimes involves moving through zero-G environments, and the way you do this has changed, for better and for worse. Whereas before, you looked around for a suitable surface to land on and then automatically jumped across the zero-G space, you can now hover in place and move freely in all directions. This added freedom allows for some fun moments in which you must soar around large open spaces to interact with objects. But you can always orient yourself to the ground with the push of a button, so these changes come at the expense of the delightfully disorienting sensation that went with seeing the Ishimura from dizzying new perspectives as you stood on the wall or ceiling of a chamber.
In addition to playing a lot like its predecessor, Dead Space 2 looks a great deal like the visually impressive original. Dead Space cleverly incorporated your health meter and stasis meter into the back of Isaac's suit, and that's still the case; there's no distracting HUD, which lets you feel all the more immersed in the atmospheric environments. But the size and diversity of the Sprawl give Dead Space 2 a very different atmosphere from the original game. Your journey takes you through hospitals, shopping districts, residential quarters, schools, and other locales, all of which are positively packed with details that create a haunting sense that this is a place with history, a place where, up until very recently, people lived normal lives. This variety also means that the Sprawl is not as consistently oppressive a location as was the Ishimura, and at times you may miss all that time spent in the claustrophobic industrial corridors of the planet-cracker. But Dead Space 2's bigger, more sprawling and action-oriented campaign gives the game its own identity; this is the equivalent of the blockbuster movie sequel Aliens to the first game's more moody and intimate Alien. The sound design is an absolutely essential part of the immersive spell the game casts. Recorded announcements echo eerily through the empty corridors; each blast of your weapons rings with the convincing pound of a powerful industrial tool; and the terrifying shrieks, screams, and wails of the necromorphs send shivers up your spine and adrenaline coursing through your veins.
The single-player campaign clocks in at around 12 hours and offers some solid replay value because you can start new games and carry over all your purchased, upgraded equipment, or even try tackling the "hard core" mode, which restarts you from your last save each time you die and permits you to save only three times over the course of the entire campaign. But the real draw to returning to Dead Space 2 time and again is its terrific team-based competitive multiplayer. Divided into humans and necromorphs with up to four players on each side, the multiplayer gives the human team a series of objectives they need to complete within a time limit--interacting with consoles, carrying items, destroying objects, and so on--while the necromorphs' only goal is to stop the humans. The humans all play exactly like Isaac in the single-player, and the opposing players get to choose one of four necromorph types each time they spawn: the elusive pack; the long-range, wall-crawling lurker; the resilient puker; and the hard-hitting spitter.
The setup will feel immediately familiar to those who have played Left 4 Dead 2's competitive multiplayer, but the Dead Space trappings make it a wholly different experience, and an exhilarating one at that. While the mood of the single-player campaign is one of sustained tension and dread, broken frequently by necromorph attacks, multiplayer games create the frantic sense of a constant, desperate fight for survival against an unending onslaught. Humans are individually tougher than the necromorphs, and they have the advantage of spawning with a health pack in their inventories. But unlike the humans, necromorphs can choose where to spawn, making it possible for them to split the humans up and overpower them. Teams alternate once on each map so all players play both sides, and regardless of which side you're playing on, the mode strongly encourages coordinating with team members; taking down humans as part of an organized necromorph assault is immensely rewarding, as is completing an objective as a human player in the final few seconds of a hard-fought match. You earn experience points and level up as you play, gaining access to new weapons, more stasis power, and other benefits as a human and more powerful attacks as a necromorph, which, while nothing new, makes this multiplayer even more addictive.
Dead Space 2 doesn't bring with it the same sense of experiencing something utterly new and innovative that its predecessor did. But it's nonetheless a terrific game, with a campaign that simultaneously leaves you satisfied and eager for more, and intense multiplayer that gives you a great reason to keep coming back to this terrifying universe. Unless you're just plain chicken, this is a sci-fi horror adventure you definitely want to suit up for.



Dragon Age II is an enjoyable and complex role-playing game, featuring expansive questing in a fantasy world tinged with political intrigue. During this lengthy adventure, you face gigantic dragons, villainous mages, and greedy slavers, all while exercising the power of choice to steer various story elements as you see fit. It's often terrific, even if it doesn't meet the standard set by Dragon Age: Origins. Several areas, such as inventory management and skill progression, have been stripped down in one way or another--a case of developer BioWare inexplicably fixing that which wasn't broken. The story, too, has seen a downward turn, failing to connect its various (albeit excellent) quests to a clear central goal. It's easy to see these and other blemishes because the game that spawned this sequel was so exceptional, and ultimately the superior game. And yet on its own terms, Dragon Age II is still a great experience, depicting a kingdom threatened not by invading monsters, but by the demons of fear and distrust.

That Dragon Age II has made important changes over the original is obvious from the beginning. You might feel a slight twinge of disappointment when first creating your character. You no longer select a race; the game's story insists you play as a human and lets you choose only a gender and one of three classes (mage, rogue, warrior). You are also assigned a surname--Hawke--though you can select a first name. Hawke is fully voiced; in this way, Dragon Age II resembles developer BioWare's own Mass Effect--one of many changes to the series clearly inspired by that spacefaring RPG. If you enjoyed how the original Dragon Age looked to Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights for inspiration, playing a voiced protagonist may initially disappoint you. However, even RPG purists will likely embrace the change once the game is in full swing. Gone are your own character's blank looks during cutscenes, replaced by communicative facial animations and expressive voice acting that properly correspond with the dialogue options you choose.

The story has you escaping Lothering with your family during the early events of Dragon Age: Origins and arriving in the city of Kirkwall. From here, your vague primary goal is to make a name for yourself in the region over the ensuing years, rising from freeloading refugee to local champion. There's an odd lack of direction here. There is no overall sense of purpose, no main villain, and no opportunity to save the world from marauding darkspawn. While you do get a few chances to square off against such beasts, the stakes are never clear because there's no central plot to pull you through. As a result, the story is scattered--a series of missions and events without a center. The most heartfelt moments come from peripheral tangents and side quests focused on individual party members, where you explore loss, love, and betrayal. Nevertheless, there's a discouraging lack of epic-ness and focus, and no final prize to set your eyes on.


The narrative's most extraordinary features aren't in the story proper, then, but in the element of choice. Dragon Age II is split into three chapters, and in each, you face difficult decisions that don't necessarily fit into standard definitions of good and bad. This is in part because of the world's politically charged climate. A family connection might make it initially easy to empathize with the plight of apostate mages, who long to free their brothers and sisters from the shackles of the Circle. After all, you meet the blank-faced, passionless former mages who have been made tranquil--that is, cut off from their connection to the dream world known as the Fade. And yet you also come face-to-face with the horrors of blood magic and the powerful influence the Fade's demons can wield on magic-wielders angry with the oppressive establishment. The stoic, horned Quanari race suffers from similar persecution, and they may earn your sympathy, considering that you and your family are also outsiders. And yet, single-minded devotion to their creed, known as the Qun, leads to shocking cruelties that you witness firsthand. There are some not-so-coincidental correlations to real-world religious and political conflict, which gives immediacy to these circumstances. However, the particulars--mages on leashes treated as pets, aristocratic houses involved in mind games and one-upmanship--are typical fantasy tropes. Expect to encounter themes and elements famously explored in other fantasy works, such as The Lord of the RingsThe Wheel of Time, and A Song of Ice and Fire, among many others.
In any case, you must choose how to respond to the game's events, using a dialogue wheel that clearly labels the attitude governing your response. (The red icon is the aggressive option, for example, while the green icon is the kind one.) Sometimes, your choices don't have gameplay consequences at all and amount to smoke and mirrors, giving the illusion of choice but nothing more. This is perfectly reasonable for the most part, given that such dialogue choices allow you to role-play, even when they carry no further weight. There are events that play out much the same way regardless of how you respond, however, which makes some of these illusions disappointingly transparent. Yet there are many more weighty decisions in this game than in its predecessor, and they affect your progress in some really fantastic ways--some of them subtle, some of them not. Should you encourage a confused adolescent with magical abilities to seek refuge with the Dalish elves, that character may write to you later, offering a quest that furthers his tale. Having a particular party member with you might let you steer the conversation in different directions than you otherwise might have. Plot threads are tied up in a number of ways, depending on what character you side with, if any, and potential future paths are then opened or closed. Even your initial choice of class influences certain aspects of your party composition.
The characters that join you on your journey aren't as memorable as those of the original Dragon Age. Alistair and Morrigan, among others, had vivid personalities that made it easy to immediately identify with them. The sequel's ensemble cast doesn't make the same strong first impression, which works both for and against the game. On the bright side, Dragon Age II's party members rarely seem like single-minded caricatures. An escaped elven slave called Fenric despises his former master, who used the magical element called Lyrium to brand him with bodily markings with supernatural properties. Yet Fenric's softer side occasionally emerges, such as in a side quest in which a demon attempts to exploit his weaknesses. Each character--a self-centered lady pirate, a dwarf that enjoys weaving tall tales, and more--is similarly nuanced, and their story arcs develop over the course of the game, allowing you further chances to bond. The downside is that these characters are sometimes so subtle that they lack the lasting impact of their Dragon Age: Origins counterparts. The dwarf Varric is amusing, but Oghren made for a stronger dwarven presence in DA:O. Merrill's brogue and occasional social awkwardness make for some charming interactions, but she isn't as delightful as the original's Leliana. A few blasts from the past that you encounter not only establish emotional and thematic ties to the first game, but confirm how memorable its characters were in comparison.
Nevertheless, each party member--not to mention the game's other major and minor players--is exquisitely voiced and expertly written. When Fenric growls his displeasure, he's menacing enough to make you squirm. When a normally staid Aveline asks for romantic advice, the hesitation in her voice illuminates her discomfort. Their expressiveness is enhanced by improved facial animations, which aren't on the level of Mass Effect 2, but still adequately communicate kindness, aggressiveness, and grief. If you wish to further explore relationships with your fellow adventurers, you can offer them gifts, though this is one of several areas where Dragon Age II strips away some of the original's complexity with mixed results. Rather than freely giving gift items to your comrades based on what you understand of their personalities (as was done in DA:O), finding a pertinent item unlocks a quest in which you present the item to the only possible recipient. You can also inch closer to love by selecting dialogue options marked with a heart icon, which makes the whole process of romance less mysterious--and more game-ish--than in the original Dragon Age. The upside is that you are more likely to establish a romance in Dragon Age II, and thus experience how that romance might affect dialogue choices and quest resolutions.

Gift-giving isn't the only area in which Dragon Age II has simplified the original's mechanics. As in most RPGs, you purchase items and equipment from merchants and loot them off fallen foes. You manage the inventory of your entire party--but only to a point. Hawke is the only character you wield full inventory control over, swapping out ever-more-effective weapons, armor, and accessories. Other characters have restrictions that slightly squash the joys of equipping your party. None of your other party members can equip different armor. Instead, you acquire upgrades for them and slot in runes that you can purchase after you've found or bought recipes for them. Varric's only weapon is the crossbow he calls Bianca, and there are no specialty arrows (ice, fire) for him to equip. It's disappointing to browse a vendor's wares or sort through your loot, only to see that Hawke is the only character allowed to use so many of the items. Of course, there is joy to be had in managing your party's equipment. You can still equip your warriors with different swords and shields, and give your mages new wands and rings. But unless you count the diminished amount of time you may spend shuffling your inventory, this simplification doesn't come with any noticeable benefit.
The same could be said about the streamlining of the game's various talent trees, though there is still a great deal of flexibility in how you develop your party. A mage might focus on healing, elemental attacks, or mind control; a rogue can go for the stealthy approach, attack with a bow from afar, or slice up rampaging Qunari with dual blades. You can use your warriors to take the heat off your mages in a tank role, or develop them as pure damage dealers. It's in the non-combat skills where Dragon Age II takes a step back. Herbalism, trap-making, poison-making, and other skills have been removed or restructured. There are still poisons and potions, for example, but to buy them, you must discover recipes for them and come across resource nodes as you explore. Then, you can order them from a merchant or at your home. Stealing, survival, coercion--these aspects are gone, as are those introduced in Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, though runecrafting was restructured in much the same way poisons and potions were.
Perhaps this streamlining is meant to be consistent with the direction combat has taken. In battle, Dragon Age II feels much more like an action RPG than its predecessor--a change that works to great effect on the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3 in particular. The core combat hasn't changed: you press the attack button to strike, and use up your mana or stamina reserves to perform more powerful talents and spells. And as before, you can directly control whichever party member you like and assign AI routines to the others to determine their battle behavior. This isn't an action game; pressing a button doesn't mean you then swing your sword at that exact moment. But cooldown times have been shortened and animations have been sped up, giving more immediacy to your actions. Your rogue tumbles around as he or she attacks, mages gesticulate wildly as they fling fire and lightning about, and warriors leap onto their foes from several feet away. It looks great, and when you're wielding a controller, it feels great.
PC players unfortunately lose an important aspect of the series that tied it to BioWare RPGs of yore: the tactical camera. You do get a certain amount of camera control, but no longer can you zoom far out and view the battlefield from above. Yet, you still must hover the attack cursor over the enemy you want to attack, which can be somewhat awkward from a third-person view. (If PC players had to be stuck without a tactical view, the console versions' auto-targeting would have been a better solution than the strange "in-between" approach taken.) The camera view isn't the only facet that's less tactical. On consoles, the difficulty level is more or less the same as in the original game; on the PC, the game demands far less of you on normal difficulty than did Dragon Age: Origins. Series veterans will want to pump up the difficulty level straight away. Yet while these changes to the PC version weren't for the better, the combat is entertaining in its own right. Not having to pause frequently to issue orders keeps you focused on the action, which has a clicky, action RPG appeal--and staying close to the action means you more readily appreciate the vibrant spell effects.
Those effects are a step above what Dragon Age: Origins delivered, though Dragon Age II is still not quite up to modern standards, visually speaking. Many textures are shockingly low-resolution, and the art design is as lacking in vivid color as its precursor. Yet details on clothing and furniture have more clarity, and improved lighting and draw distances give outdoor areas more pizzazz. At times, combat looks positively dazzling, with colorful spells lighting up the screen and giant ogres lumbering about. That's especially true on the PC, where running the game in DirectX 11 mode makes things look particularly crisp. Xbox 360 owners will also appreciate the enhancements, given the first game's mediocre visuals on that platform. They may not, however, appreciate the long loading times that so frequently intrude--given how often you must transition from one area to the next--or the occasional frame rate and sound stutters. These flaws can be noticeably diminished by installing the game to the hard drive, so provided you have the space, it should be the first step you take. The PlayStation 3 suffers from some stutters and long load times as well, in spite of the mandatory install. No matter which version you play, you will find the swooning orchestral soundtrack a treat. While the original's score never reached beyond "generic fantasy," pounding drums and brooding cellos add flavor at important intervals in the sequel. Darker chords are more common and greatly contribute to the atmosphere.
In certain key ways, Dragon Age 2 is a step back. Regardless of how you may feel about the changes to the formula, however, it's still a great RPG that draws you in, thanks to the power of choice. Here is a game in which decisions have consequences that ripple outward, producing effects you may not have seen coming. What makes them more effective is that there is not always a clearly bad or good path to take--not in this world in which greed and anger course through the veins of so many, regardless of their affiliation. Personal connections in your family and adventuring party further complicate matters, ensuring there isn't one obvious way to continue. It's a shame that these intricacies were tempered by unnecessary simplification and unfocused storytelling. Nevertheless, Dragon Age II makes a strong impression, pulling you through with the promise of another fun quest, another character to meet, and another beast to slay.