Sovereign Syndicate and the World Beyond the Page

One of the strongest tools a piece of media has in its toolbox is your own mind.

Picture this:

You're out on the balcony of your Venetian hotel room, leaning against metal bars that are cool to the touch. It's late in the evening, with the sun lazily hanging just over the horizon, casting long shadows amongst the twisting canals below. The day was warm, but there's a crispness to the ocean breeze that sends a shudder down your spine. You draw your overcoat tighter across your shoulders as your mind wanders. Once more you think on the woman in the bright yellow dress - with flowing brown locks and an easy smile - that locked eyes with you from across the market stalls. You consider what she may be up to in this  very moment - could she be on another balcony, just like this one, overlooking the same orange-pink sunset? A twinge of longing tugs at you from within, as you know in your heart you'll never cross paths again.

Sovereign Syndicate draws its world with extreme care, revealing just enough of its back alley streets and dingy locales to provide a sense of place. Not a cobblestone or lamp post is wasted, a wonderful construction of a fictional place to feel yourself sinking into this fantastical version of Victorian-era London. However in actuality, the physical space for your multiple player characters to explore is fairly minimal. What the game accomplishes with its words is far greater than lavishly recreation of an entire city can ever convey on its own.

This game builds its reality with every conversation and every description. The Sacred Heart orphanage is a place we learn much about long before entering; the interiority of our first protagonist Atticus effectively draws the building for us before we even enter. But it's not just the walls, classrooms and fireplaces it conjures, no - it's the oppressiveness of those walls, the mischief made in those classrooms and the often meagre warmth of those fireplaces that builds a place of character, not just physical space. These words tap into your own mind and your own experience, allowing you to pour your own memories and sense of self into this world and build your own subconscious connections with its cast of misfits and miscreants. 

I'm not convinced the tarot system works all that well in Sovereign Syndicate. It's too easy to fail and reload over and over until you hit the desired outcome, and somehow feels more out of your control than the dice rolls of more traditional cRPG fair. Thankfully, the game doesn't need to worry - it's too easy to get sucked into this version of London, a place I would never want to live but one I adore to visit, at least in this digital form. 

It's too easy to soak in the portrait its words paint; a world that is larger than life, where minotaur magicians drink to forget their woes and automatons search for meaning beyond basic labour. Drink it up, marinate in it, and be entranced by language and imagination.