Released: Jun 21, 1987
Version played: Ys I Chronicles+ (2013)

There is an invisible third pillar in the development of the first decade of RPG video games. The first pillar is of course Wizardry and Ultima, the two titans that emerged as the commerical successors to the early hobbyist RPG scene of the late 70s, and the golden age of Computer RPGs that followed as the 80s continued. The second pillar is Dragon Quest, combining elements of both with simple adventure game logic to create the Japanese Console RPG, the first domino in a chain that persists to annoying genre name debates up to this very moment. But Japan had computers too, among which developers and players evolved a scene of their own – both before and after Dragon Quest canonised what an RPG looks like. It is a scene that is hard to grapple with in the English speaking part of the world, for whereas ports and fan translations are rife on the Famicom, the various less popular RPGs for various less popular pre-Windows Japanese PC platforms were not so lucky. Safe to say, it was a thriving space in its own right, with tons of developers experimenting with the genre in many diverse ways. By which I mean I understand how reductive I am being when I say this, but nevertheless it must be said. The third pillar was motherfucking Falcom.

Xanadu sold 400,000 copies in 1985. This is a number that is legitimately bonkers given the size of the market at the time. It was so successful that it led to one of the funniest what if moments in video game history, Richard Garriott himself flying over to Japan to make a licensing deal with Falcolm, uniting the PC RPG giants of both sides of the pacific and cementing their dominance for years to come. It was not to be because it turned out all the art in Xanadu was traced from the Ultima III manual. Quite simply: lmao. One wonders what world we’d be living in if Richard Garriott had the foresight in that moment to let it slide.

I did not play Xanadu however. I didn’t play Hydilide and I didn’t play Dragon Slayer. I played Ys, an influential and important game in its own right but certainly less foundational a starting point than Dragon Quest and Wizardry when coming to look at the space of PC RPGs in Japan. I would have played Sorcerain but Sorcerain Original, the PS1 remake universally agreed upon to be the best version to play, doesn’t have an English Translation. Look what happens when you step outside of the light of privilege of “being a Final Fantasy fan.” Back in the day we watched Dragon Ball Z two episodes a time on tape, etc. etc.

The most remarkable thing about Ys is its to this day extremely unique structure. It is a game split entirely in half, the initial open world exploration and levelling, and then ascending the Tower of Darm, the game’s 25 floor final dungeon. As opposed to most RPGs both before and after, where progress in the dungeon is incremental, as you make decisions to stretch your resources to gain as much experience and gold as possible before returning to town and completing the cycle again, Ys locks you in the tower at max level, with no progress aside from equipment gains and losses along the way.

It is an incredibly effective choice. Dragon Quest uses RPG systems as the foundations on which to build an adventure, but Ys uses RPG systems as texture; as tempo; the rhythm section over which Falcom Sound Team JDK will be adding shredding guitar solos. It works in tandem with the famous bump system, to create a game in which every level gained and gear piece found is a change you immediately feel, taking enemies from walls impeding progress to buckling at your sword. The open fields and the cramped dungeon walls. Pressure and release. Builds and drops. The RPG not as self expression or mechanical challenge but pure backing track. No menus standing between you and the next bar.

This combines with a light narrative touch that tells a very simple story of getting the Things to stop General Bad Guy from bringing back The Darkness that had been sealed away Hundreds of Years Ago, with Ys choosing to focus less on this rote mechanical story and invest more in the sense of Esteria as an inhabited space. Every NPC is named, they worry about their family in other villages, they complain or make peace with their Islands supernatural stasis, they know each others names and react to the story in real and human ways. That girl that you rescued Adol, she’s waiting by the lake. Should I talk to her? Do you think she’d like me? When you find her sprite staring out at the ocean she tells you she doesn’t even need to get her memory back, she’s already so happy here. But it doesn’t ring true. She’s too important to the plot, and both of you know it.

It’s little touchest like this that make Ys really sing. The mysterious fae girl who immediately falls in love with you and is some type of reincarnation of the Goddess who exists to power up the shonen chosen one is boring and cliche, so Ys leaves that unsaid and does a really good job focusing on the small moments. The Seer who knew she would die as a result but still chooses to help you has a Grandmother across the Island, and that Grandmother takes care of Feena as she recovers. That Grandmother also has a son who leads the Thieves Guild, who the Mayor wrongly blames for stealing the Town’s supernatural treasure that has protected them until now – but he’d never tell the town. He can’t cause a panic. Lines drawn that didn’t have to be drawn, NPCs relationships crossing over in believable ways, it all creates a real sense of community in Esteria, a world worth saving because you know and care for the people in it.

Also the soundtrack is absolutely incredible. Like you already knew that but god damn.