Some Small Thoughts Regarding Shogun 2: Total War

Before 2018 was out, Steam started its regular Winter Sales and I have the fortune to be able to get a game I had grown increasingly interested for dirt cheap price (mostly because it had been out for some years) — the Shogun 2: Total War series for less than HKD120 (Available DLCs included).

This was my third purchase of the Total War series, preceded by (first) Napoleon: Total War and Empire: Total War, and is the first time I get to experience what medieval warfare is like. And my God did it make me think quite a bit.

This article is not a review of the game (because plenty of others had done it already), but some reflections upon playing the game’s main campaign (set between 1545 and 1600) and its standalone expansion Fall of the Samurai (set between 1864 and 1876).

Shogun 2: Total War

Let’s begin with the main campaign, depicting the Sengoku Jidai — or Age of the Warring States — between 1545 and 1600. This was the first time in my acquaintance with the franchise that I tried a campaign set in the (late) Medieval period, as well as experiencing a Medieval mode of battle, and it proved to be something of a shock.

I. The Technology Tree

But let me start with some quirks of the game that I find curious. Firstly, technological research in this game proved to be a surprise for me. In Shogun 2, technological research are conducted without any buildings required to be constructed, nor are there any agents that can speed research up, unlike Napoleon and Empire when “gentlemen” do these kinds of work. There are buildings in some provinces that have the ability to speed up research but it is not imperative.

This bugs me a little, because in Shogun 2, without any agents speeding up research it is highly likely that before going through the entire tree (or trees, because there are civil and military technology branches), the campaign would have ended in victory or defeat. For me who had been used to completing a campaign with the entire tree researched, this proved something of a pain. It feels like incompleteness in an otherwise victorious campaign. Even in the Long Campaign (lasting from 1545 to 1600; the Short Campaign only lasts for 30 years until 1575), there still are several technologies that were left unresearched when I achieved victory in 1600. Perhaps it is due to my inability to coordinate efficiently what technologies to research.

II. Food Production

Another quirk that strikes me as both interesting and puzzling is the campaign’s food production system. This is the first time (again, in my acquaintance with the franchise) that food production has had any potential to impact one’s grand plans.

In this campaign (along with the not-standalone spinoff Rise of the Samurai) apart from the treasury and the amount of taxes received for the next turn, there also is a number indicating the amount of food surplus the player possesses. Most of the time, it remains positive which is all fine and good, but if one did not plan a province’s development, or a famine struck at a time when no food surplus is present, this can drop below zero and, if allowed to continue, causes food riots and uprisings. I know because I had been there, though thank God nothing bad happened and eventually I was able to save myself from oblivion.

It will take two stages to get from rice paddies (base level) to land consolidation (level 4), and upgrading provides one more unit of food. In Rise of the Samurai (and unless you modded the Shogun 2 Campaign), there is also a choice to construct rice stores and gradually upgrade to granaries which provides an additional three units of food to the province. I actually find myself way more interested in planning the development of provinces than wars in the campaign (like in Napoleon and Empire) because it is very satisfying to boast provinces with plenty of food surplus and a total food surplus that reaches hilarious levels (e.g. 18 units). This feature makes one realize that strategic games like these aren’t just about winning battles, they also are about planning and developing civilian buildings. Shogun 2 is the first to make food a meaningful factor in campaign mode, previous games might display the effects of food shortage on population growth but they don’t influence public order.

Then comes the weird bit. For a nation totally surrounded by ocean like Japan, it is a bit puzzling to find ports that don’t produce any food at all. Neither trade ports nor military ports (not even Nanban ports) produce any extra food in both the Shogun 2 and Rise of the Samurai campaigns, which is strange considering that by all standards the Japanese of the 10th and 16th Centuries should have figured out effective fishing techniques, as a commenter on Steam Workshop’s “Ports Produce Foods” mod indicates, “given that fishing is a huge part of Japanese culture, you’d think ports would already produce food.”

But no.

Some say it’s a matter of balance in the game. With ports that produce food, this will empower the coastal clans more than landlocked clans; but the no-food ports kind of make no historical sense, and for a game that based itself on real history, making historical sense is kind of important(?).

III. The Mode of Combat

Then comes the greatest shock in this campaign, the wars itself. I don’t claim to be a good military leader in the game, but at least I stride towards the most economic way of spending lives on the battlefield. In Napoleon and Empire, this is fairly easy — load up the guns, be it muskets, rifles, or cannons.

Shogun 2 has none of this, other than bows and basic matchlocks. These are weapons terrible at reducing casualties (on my side) because bows are not exactly accurate, matchlocks take a long time to reload, and the AI have a tendency to charge their spear infantry at you. To save a regiment meant to sacrifice another, and it is terribly difficult to win a battle economically, which makes me really appreciate the existence of artillery. They allow battles to be done with quickly, effectively, and economically for the sides that possesses it.

Seeing these kind of old-fashioned battle scenes simulated before my eyes also makes me very grateful about living in a world in which warfare has largely vanished. I need not fear about someone cutting me down with a katana, or shooting me dead with multiple flaming arrows. These are horrifying and gruesome ways to go and are a shared fate for many Ashigarus that did the fighting. You gain a bit of perspective when playing this game. This might be overly sentimental but I do believe in the phrase “every life lost is a tragedy” and while the “men” in the game were merely data, I cannot help but to put myself in their shoes. In times like these, I still try hard not to go to war.

Ergo, the Metsuke is a godsend.

Shogun 2: Total War Fall of the Samurai

Then we get to the standalone expansion, Fall of the Samurai. This, I think, is probably the franchise’s closest call ever to actual modern warfare for it sets itself between 1864 and 1876 — during the late Shogunate and early Meiji era. This is the time when Japan struggled between to modernize or to become a quasi-colony like contemporary China, and the war depicted in this expansion pack is the Boshin War of 1868 and 1869.

I. RAILWAYS!

To be honest, I am more at home with modern warfare — the most economic kind of war in terms of lives. But the first thing that pleased me very much is for the first time in the franchise, railways actually played a role! Even in games of war, I can’t get away from my enthusiasm on railways apparently.

Though in history, railways did not appear in Japan until 1872, and construction of it did not take off until after the timeframe of this campaign, in here one can construct railways as early as 1866 (if you work hard enough, and you choose the right clan). This is an important tool later in the game because it facilitates rapid transport of agents and troops — especially the army in question contains artillery pieces. Artillery significantly reduces an army’s movement range, so that what could have taken 3 turns on foot would now take 5. Railways helped alleviate the problem by transporting troops between long distances (e.g. Edo to Kyoto) typically in less than 3 turns.

Also, it provides a very good boost to the economy of the province too, since railways made commerce easier.

However, there are some disappointments with this unique feature.

Yes, the railways enable rapid transport of troops and agents, as well as giving a major boost to the provinces’ economy, but it is also not really that important in the game.

First and foremost, the railways are still a far cry from the extensive network renowned in contemporary Japan. Here, only Honshu get a railway, and even then only the Pacific side of Honshu get it. The rest of Japan, apart from a branch from Edo extending into Echigo and Echu (likely the precursor to the contemporary Shin’etsu Main Line) don’t get any railways at all. This is historically correct seeing that Japan’s railway boom did not happen until way after the Boshin War and the Meiji Restoration is over, but is nonetheless very bugging because the side facing the Sea of Japan, and the entirety of Kyushu, Shikoku and Ezo/Hokkaido have no railways at all, hampering military operations and economic development in those regions.

Though this is contrary to my arguments I made in the “Why ports don’t produce food” section of this article, I thought when you play a game that enables you to remake history, it includes the right to build railways anywhere in Japan, especially in Kyushu where the difficult terrain merited its existence.

But no, again. And might I ask: Were telegraph offices that rare in Japan in the 1860s so that only the Pacific side of Honshu possessed it?

Secondly, in terms of the railway’s ability to affect one’s plans to victory, I have to confess — it’s not the big of a deal, not compared to Gatling Guns, or armoured steam ships. This is because even agents (i.e. Geishas, Shinobis, Ishin Shishis, and Shinsengumis) cannot travel on foreign networks without military access, let alone armies. So, either one will have to annex the territory, or will have to alight at the nearest station and walk there — not entirely helpful. It’s a good tool, but one that is not imperative. I only rush to build railways because I am biased towards it. Plus, the cutscene for the first railway is very amusing.

II. Naval Warfare and Ports

There are also something noteworthy about this expansion’s ports and naval warfare. For starters, ports (Trading ports and military ports) can now bombard hostile ships which make planning ship routes a slightly more demanding task. One need to be mindful of where to drop anchor because doing this wrong can mean the destruction of an entire fleet — that’s how powerful coastal batteries can become.

And important too, if one is not to have his trade routes being raided to the point of uselessness. When I first played as the Choshu clan, I made the mistake of not researching the relevant technology and not building military ports (which, compared to trading ports, possesses greater defence capabilities) to defend my trade routes with the results of imminent bankruptcy. I have to backtrack to my last save (quite a number of turns earlier) to avoid complete defeat.

As for actual naval warfare, again I’m more at home with it in this form than those in Shogun 2 proper. Mostly because it involves no inaccurate things like arrows, also because the ships are more familiar and better looking. Among the many ships, the Kasuga is easily my favourite in both looks and practicality — it is reasonably fast, sturdy and powerful all at the same time. Sure, the Kaiyo Maru has more guns but she doesn’t travel as fast; and the Kasuga’s paddle wheel said so much about 1860s steam ship designs. It is iconic. There also are torpedo boats. These, like railways, are helpful so long as one knows how to use them properly, but not essential. Once one got the hang of it, torpedoes can be a fast and spectacular way to take out an enemy ship (Ships torpedoed in this game almost certainly guarantees a withdrawal, if not total loss).

The shells are noteworthy too. Apart from the traditional cannon balls, there are now explosive and armour-piercing shells available once the relevant research has been completed. Both are terrifyingly effective — never had I seen a ship can caught on fire and surrender so quickly, and never had I seen a ship’s hull can be destroyed so quickly as well. Copper plating is no match against explosive shells, and iron plating hardly give any protection to “advanced” armour-piercing shells. The range of the ship’s guns are amazing too, which created a great contrast with both Napoleon and Empire when naval battles are individual duels between ships at close quarters while in here shots can be fired at a ship quite the distance away.

One last note, if you want a ship to stop, put her in reverse (astern) first, then click stop, otherwise the ship will drift quite a bit before coming to a standstill.

Afterthoughts

Having now familiarised myself with the game, and written this article mostly reviewing the features of the campaigns (despite claiming this as not a review), I should probably focus a bit more about the thoughts I had playing this game.

I think the game’s most fascinating aspect is its proximity. Japan is a nation I have often heard about, and still have a place in daily conversations. Japanese history still plays a role in shaping contemporary life, especially its role in modern history. The game reflects very well periods of history that, outside of Japan, was little mentioned in textbooks. The Sengoku Jidai is nowhere to be seen, except probably in games; and the Meiji Restoration barely gets a mention, let alone the Boshin War.

The Boshin War Campaign is particularly thought provoking for me, because it told a story rarely heard. And the modern setting has a sort of familiarity and relevance to contemporary life, hence adding to the attraction. It is interesting to note that the Japanese never merely acquiesce to modernization and western influence. Outside of Japan, the typical story was like this:

There was the Tokugawa Shogunate, and then the American came along, signed the Treaty of Peace and Amity, Japan opened its doors, Meiji Restoration, Modernization, First Sino-Japanese War, Japan as a world power...

The Boshin War was skipped entirely, if not mentioned in anecdotes, giving the image that the Japanese were somehow exceptionally open to foreign ideas when in actuality they have to undergo a civil war to settle the question, and plenty of people were not that accepting towards Western influence (hence Modernization lowers happiness in the game). Shogun 2’s Fall of the Samurai campaign gives a good look into what Japan was like on the eve of the Restoration, and it gives an important channel for us contemporaries to imagine what it was like to be a Japanese in the 1860s when there were much momentous change.

Imagine you were there seeing Japan’s Locomotive №1 depart Shinbashi Station in 1872 when the first Japanese railway opened; imagine being a soldier on the field about to take down the enemy only to find they possessed a weapon that can fire at the equivalent rate of hundreds of rifles in seconds; or imagine being a fisherman seeing the monstrosity that is the corvette Kasuga passing by you with its chimney bellowing smoke into the air and its gigantic guns clearly displayed.

Imagine the shock — it must have been tremendous.

Games like these are an interactive volume in itself, how good it is depends heavily on how historically accurate the makers made it. Books tell us how people lived, games show us how people lived, and as writing class teachers have said — there is a difference between showing and telling, and showing often has a more lasting effect than mere telling.

It is also interesting to explore the different possibilities of history — after all, what-ifs are a fascinating aspect when it comes to history, and games provides a fictitious but plausible picture of how things could have been. For example, what would happen if the Otomo managed to convert Japan into a Christian nation? Or what if the Shogunate managed to defend against the Imperialists? There is no definitive answer to these questions, and many a historian would say it was a pointless question. Nonetheless, it is interesting to speculate, precisely because history can happen one way or another. Also, there is a sort of pride in being able to remake (virtual) history, to right historical wrongs (albeit virtually).

Fall of the Samurai especially is quite able to let people understand the problem of perspective. In the campaign’s intro video, depending on which sides one chose (Shogunate or Imperial) one get different narrations (e.g. “The Shogun welcomed the West and signed the Treaty of Peace and Amity…” or “The Shogun abandoned his people and signed the Treaty of Peace and Amity…”). The beautiful thing about this is unless one had played as either side, one only get half the picture. To get the whole picture, one will have to put oneself into others’ shoes, to stand on the other side and understand their argument. For me anyway, using different lenses to examine the same historical period is always an interesting exercise, and the game gave me yet another tool to practice the art.

Ultimately, the conclusion comes down to this — never underestimate a game’s ability to provoke thoughts. If you are willing to dig deeper, it is likely that through games like these, you can learn more about certain periods of history, because they provide an interesting way for you to start exploring it.