High was the sun and gladsome the breeze when Dragonkin Skywalker, Donald Duck and the Lady Galadriel arrived in the city of Vernworth, there to make new friends and disturb the peace. Oh sorry, let me back up a bit: this is the second chapter of my Dragon’s Dogma 2 hands-on diary, in which I experiment with fielding a party consisting exclusively of spell-casters.

I am playing a Mystic Spearhand – a wizard whose sorcery blends Jedi-style telekinesis with adept usage of a big pointy stick. Donald Duck (not actual name) is my fire and lightning-belching battlemage, while Galadriel (also not actual name) is either an area-healer or a frost cannon, depending on how she’s feeling at any given time. There’s also a haunting empty space where my third pawn ally, the hulking warrior Conan used to be. I fired him early on, as per the wizards-only stipulation above, then regretted it soon after when Galadriel almost got eaten by an Ogre.

The cobblestone roads and bannered archways of Vernworth sprawl before us. Adventure lurks in every corner and beams from the apple-cheeked faces of passing citizens. A woman in armour strides up to me and orders me to « let her alone ». Hmmm, this isn’t quite the immediate deluge of questing opportunities I experienced in Checkpoint Rest Town.

All right, let’s see what’s happening down yonder boulevard. I’ve barely walked 20 metres when Galadriel and Donald Duck start talking urgently about a ladder. This is an example of Dragon’s Dogma 2’s incidental pawn dialogue: your AI hirelings will notice things about areas, especially if they’ve been there before in the company of another online player. Sometimes, they will clue you in about hidden treasures and routes. Sometimes, they will confuse the hell out of you by magically detecting interactive fixtures through solid objects.

I spend several minutes trying to locate the mysterious ladder to no avail. Galadriel is obsessed with it, all but sitting down in the street and kicking the air like a toddler as she urges me to locate whatever’s at the top of it. She’s still whining about the ladder when I decide to head up the hill to Vernworth castle, and meet another staff-wielding mage pawn strolling into town. I belatedly remember that I’m one pawn short of a full party, and hire the stray spell-caster on the spot. Now, the vital question of an appropriately sorcerous name. I’ve got one pawn named for a character in genre fantasy cinema, and one pawn from the dread realm of Disney – it’s not quite the missing third of the Venn diagram, but I feel like what we need here is a magician from the world of theatre. Kneel, nameless wayfarer who was probably on their way to the grocers, or something! Arise, Ser David Blaine!

There’s precious little time to get to know David Blaine before we enter Vernworth castle. Pawns aren’t allowed within the fortress, presumably for reasons of Plot, so David Blaine, Donald Duck and Galadriel must loiter by the gatehouse while I take a tour of the grounds. Evidently scenting disaster, one of the PRs watching me play chimes in with some tips about the art of Mystic Spearhanding. It turns out you can charge up a short-lived personal forcefield, which would certainly have been handy in that lizard cave earlier. You can also launch an energy bolt and then teleport yourself to anything struck by it with a timely button press, which sounds like a wonderful way of latching onto flying bosses in order to stab their vulnerable bits.

Right now, however, my goals are humbler and more furtive: I’m looking for secret underground areas. Panic rooms, sex dungeons and such. Classic sidequest fare. An ominous door leads me to a spiral stair which descends to a torchlit barracks, where guards prowl disconsolately among wooden tables. One bow-wielding guard complains about being surrounded by whingers. I regard him sympathetically, then help myself to the contents of a chest (I can’t remember what exactly, but I think it was a healing item) plus some dried fruit from a table.

Hang on, the music has gone all threatening all of a sudden. « I’m not putting up with all this, » says the bow-wielding guard, and shoots me in the leg. Other guards come running. I flee back up to the courtyard while large, caped men crowd the stairway bellowing about « testing my mettle ». I stagger out into daylight like a hobbit exiting a cornfield with an apronful of stolen carrots. Every guard within eyeshot promptly spins toward me like something out of The Wickerman. All this over some dried fruit? Was it the king’s own dried fruit? Look, I’ll put it back. Just please stop stabbing me.

I’m resigned to a difficult battle, but fortunately, these are not very diligent guards. As soon as they see that I’m running in approximately the direction of the castle gate they forget I was ever there. I take the opportunity to double-back through the now-hospitable soldiers into a vast, shadowy throne room. My gamer instincts guide me to the rear of the throne, and sure enough, there’s a treasure chest behind it housing a posh « Heraldic Cape », which makes Dragonkin Skywalker look like he’s wearing his mum’s curtains. Having completed my inadvertent test run of Dragons Dogma 2’s crime-and-punishment system, I rejoin my pawns at the castle entrance, and we head back into town.

I’ve seen what the castle had to offer; now it’s time to sample the local businesses. I walk into a pleasant, candle-lit tavern and approach the bar. Will I buy a round of drinks for everybody? Er, yes, sure I will, partly because I feel like I need to patch up my reputation after that Dried Fruit skirmish earlier, and partly because there is nobody here except for one glum-looking musician. Will I buy another round of drinks for everybody? Go on then, one for the road.

Is it possible to get NPCs drunk in Dragon’s Dogma 2? I feel like drunk Dragon’s Dogma characters would be a fun time, given that most Dragon’s Dogma characters already behave like parents who have been hurriedly drafted into the school production of The Princess Bride. I look over my shoulder to ask the PR about these matters, and am given to understand in not-so-many-words that, no, you can’t get lashed in Dragon’s Dogma, what do you think this is, a Warhammer game? You’ve been buying rounds of medieval Bud Zero for an empty room at 2000G a pop, you oaf, now run along and fight some dragons already. As if I’m not embarrassed enough, the PR points out that I’m entering the area I explored during the last round of previews – perhaps I’d like to, you know, demo that new region that was so prominently advertised on the invitation?

Fine. Back to the oxcart station it is. Along the way I’m asked by a man named Donovan to convey a letter to one Ser Lennart in Melve. I have no idea where Melve is but there doesn’t appear to be a time limit, so by all means. I then try to take an oxcart back to Checkpoint Rest Town and am soundly rejected because look here, Jim me lad, ox carts only depart cities in the early mornings. I can however ring a nearby bell to fast-forward the time.

Having apparently spent a whole night ringing a bell, I board the cart and a woman clambers in with me. « If it were up to me, I’d never leave, » she mourns, then gets out of the cart again. I’m not sure what they put in the drinking water round Vernworth, but whatever it is, they could probably charge a high price for it in the taverns. Then it’s time for the lovely ritual of an oxcart departing, which is hopelessly inefficient by the standards of fast travel in other games, but a joy to behold regardless. The driver rings the bell as the mercenary escorts and my pawns form a loose wedge around the vehicle, at once thrilling and embarrassing me, because look, it’s just a bloody oxcart and I am the only passenger.

I doze off in transit, and wake in the dark to discover that we are being attacked by a Cyclops with a goblin entourage. There’s a chance of these raids happening whenever you try to fast-forward oxcart journeys (which you will want to, because oxcarts travel slower than people). But in this case I wonder if my recent acquaintance Donovan might be to blame. In giving me that letter to deliver, he may have guaranteed that I’d meet with some opposition on the road. I call down curses upon Donovan, wherever he may be, then ask the PRs if I can stay in the cart and let the mercenaries fight the Cyclops. After all, I’m the customer here. I paid good money for this expedition. No, I can’t stay in the cart, what do I think this is, a film? I glower at the PRs and sit in the cart obstinately, until the Cyclops blunders into it. OK, I guess I’ll get out there and do my part.

Next to the Ogre from last time, the Cyclops is a literal pushover. It’s got strength and reach, but it’s much less steady on its pins. Partly, of course, the fight is easier because I have three mages backing me up this time, in addition to the oxcart guards. But I’m also finally getting my head around the Spearhand’s skillset, which strikes a good balance of low-damage suppression fire and teleporting stylishly into close range.

I get some nice synergies going with David Blaine, our new recruit, whose ample stage experience comes across in his adroit sense of timing. At one point, I lob a goblin into the air with telekinesis and David Blaine swats it with a thunderbolt. Galadriel, meanwhile, performs her classic party trick of levitating out of harm’s way and freezing everything. This proves additionally helpful in that it gives me a dangling light source to navigate around in the dark (I’ve forgotten to equip my lantern). Always bring a luminous flying Elf Queen to a Cyclops fight, is my motto. In short order, the marauding beasts are crispy deep-fried/flash-frozen nuggets of ragdoll, and it’s back into the cart to sleep through the remaining miles to Checkpoint Rest Town.

Where I must reckon with an old nemesis. If you recall, the events of my entire Dragon’s Dogma 2 travelogue so far essentially stem from the obstinacy of a single guard in Checkpoint Rest Town, who refused to believe that I had a real permit for access to Battahl – the game’s second major area, and the supposed focus of this preview hands-on. This one guard is making me fail at journalism. Well, I am going to settle his hash tout suite.

But how exactly will I accomplish this, given that killing the guy will not solve the problem of the massive portcullis between me and Battahl? I entertain terrible fears that I might have to go on some powerfully unglamorous permit-fetching quest of some kind. Sheer bureaucracy, unworthy of the Arisen! But then, as I’m following a large, well-appointed horse-drawn carriage up through Checkpoint Rest Town towards the gate, I undergo the kind of epiphany you only get after countless years spent honing the craft of James Gournalism. The carriage is clearly heading for Battahl. There is nobody inside, and I look hella noble in my Heraldic Cape. Perhaps I can hitch a ride.

I sidle up carefully, open the doors and slither inside the vehicle. The driver notices immediately. He is very displeased, and says so. But slave that he is to his programming, he doesn’t actually stop driving the coach. As we rumble up to the portcullis, I flatten myself against the woodwork and hold my breath. The guards are unmoved. The portcullis rises. My pawns amble through – apparently, pawns don’t need permits. I look back at the PRs, who appear mesmerised, speechless at my ingenuity. Are we doing this? Is this a thing we can do?

We’re through. We’re through. Friends, it’s official – I have immersive-simmed Dragon’s Dogma 2! A lesser journalist would have balked under the pressure and timidly agreed to follow a breadcrumb trail to a permit somewhere, but I have pierced the Looking Glass, weathered the Ion Storm and become Master of the Arkane arts. I have cracked the code, applied myself to the systems and emerged triumphant, a gamer indeed.

youtube« > { e.preventDefault(); e.currentTarget.closest('figure').innerHTML = e.currentTarget.querySelector('template').innerHTML; enableElements(); })(event)" title="Click to play video from YouTube"> 『Dragon’s Dogma 2』 Main Trailer

I step triumphantly from the coach and straight into a waiting horde of absolutely furious lions. The Beastren of Battahl do not take kindly to emergent gameplay and creative problem-solving, it seems. Will they let me off if I say, run away screaming into the countryside? The castle guards back in Vernworth did, but the difference here is that I have my pawns with me, and pawns never run from a fight, even when everybody they’re fighting is conspicuously over-levelled. Donald Duck and David Blaine disappear under a tidal wave of cats in armour while Galadriel vanishes skyward and I am hustled into a crevice and viciously hacked-about. I’m knocked on my back and it looks like death is imminent, but instead, one of my attackers pounces on me and proceeds to truss me up like a turkey. Darkness descends.

When I regain consciousness, all is quiet. I am stripped of my inventory and dressed in rags – no heraldic cape, no enchanted spear, not even my hard-won handful of Dried Fruits to console me in my hour of need. I am standing in a small room with earth walls. At one end, there is nothing but empty air and the sound of distant water. At the other, there is a locked door. What sorcery is this?

I’m in gaol!

Next week: the third and final part of our Dragon’s Dogma 2 hands-on journal, in which there are golems, rope escalators and bats.