Suikoden III is the Best Suikoden

Where its predecessor refined the series formula, Suikoden III innovates in many ways — some good, some bad

Charles Payseur
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So by now you’re probably wise to the scheme. I went ahead and wrote up why the first two games are the best games in the Suikoden series, and I’m back to make the case for the third. It’s the first game after the switch over to the PS2, and it’s the last game to keep to the progressing chronology set by the first two. It’s also the last where the series creator, Yoshitaka Murayama, was involved, though he didn’t stick around until launch. That doesn’t change the fact, though, that…

Game Art: Box art for Suikoden III
Where it all started for me.

Suikoden III is the Best Suikoden!

Suikoden III might be the most divisive of the games in the series. While everyone has a fairly consistent opinion of the series up to this point, and while most people are fairly consistent about where they stand with Suikoden IV, this game made a lot of decisions that didn’t always go over with fans. That said, it was my introduction to the series, and the reason I got addicted to Suikoden. After playing this, I had to track down copies of the first two games, eventually buying them for a combined $120 from a cousin of one of my friends in high school (~2007). And while I can see how fans of the first two games might bristle at some of the decisions the third made, it’s always been perhaps the nearest and dearest to my heart.

It’s Not Afraid Of Change

There’s a lot of ways that Suikoden III breaks with the traditions laid out in the first two games of the series — hell, there’s a lot of ways Suikoden III breaks with a lot of traditions of JRPGs in general. This takes a lot of forms, but perhaps the biggest is that the world map is a series of tracks connecting searchable areas. No longer can you just wander around an overworld getting into fights and enjoying your super tiny sprite. But for all that it’s different in how it feels, in function there’s really no difference, and I for one enjoy how that aesthetic choice runs parallel to the other ways that the game is different. Namely, the Trinity Sight System, which allows the player to pick between three (to start) characters to experience the story of the game. The first three chapters especially can be done in any order, and it gives the game a variety and a sense of freedom while also recognizing the tracks laid down, the way that everything is dovetailing together. And the game gives the player a huge choice at the end of chapter three that truly shifts the tone and events of the later part of the game.

Change is hard baked into the world. The locations feel more lived in, and the NPCs are more than just cardboard. They react to the events of the game, offering up different dialogue and, for some, slight progressing stories.

The game also introduces the series to the third dimension, with cities and locations to explore, dungeons to crawl, and a whole new level to the battle mechanic. No longer are characters stuck in two rows of three. At least, not beyond the first moment the fight begins. Rather, characters pair up (three pairs of two) and physically move around the battle space, their range and number of attacks determined by a complex system that is enhanced by another addition to the game — skills. Skills come in two varieties and are slightly different for every character. They can be trained at special locations that act like shops, and characters accrue skill points in battle. Ranging from Shield Defense to Swing, the skills are pretty straight forward but diverse enough to allow for customization both toward character personalities or player preference. And they’re powerful, so that with some grit and determination even a so-so character can be boosted into a powerhouse. Add to all of that the mount system, where certain pairs (Hugo and Fubar, most prominently) can combine into a single unit that shares a lot of stats and can straight up Murder Everything.

Further, change is hard baked into the world. The locations feel more lived in, and the NPCs are more than just cardboard. They react to the events of the game, offering up different dialogue and, for some, slight progressing stories. People sitting next to each other go from relative strangers to getting married (and some seem to go from together to splitting up). My all time favorite example is the small boy in Brass Castle who’s there to sell his pig, Johnny Lunchbox, who might actually be his brother cursed by an evil witch (only some of that is headcanon). There’s also a group of old ladies who keep sending the Zexen knights barrels of pickles, and I just love it.

Game Still: Combat. Geddoe’s main party squared off against an area boss in the Mountain Path
Combat completely changed, and truly innovated.

There Is No Villain

The series has always played with the ideas of villainy, but nowhere is that more apparent than in Suikoden III, where the villain is very literally…you. It’s a bit more complicated than that but one of the brilliant moves of the game is to give different perspectives and make none of them entirely right, none of them entirely wrong. Events are being manipulated, yes, but mostly people are just being people, full of their biases and intolerances, their fears and their hates. The Zexen, the Grasslands, and Harmonia are all after their own goals, all being led about by devious intentions, but it’s hard to point with any certainty to who the villain is. And when it becomes clear who has been doing the manipulating, who is trying to bring the world into conflict and crisis, it turns out to be a familiar face. One who, when he gets his own chance to be the viewpoint character, reveals that even his own villainy was part of something different.

Again and again the game comes back to tracks, comes back to choice and how choice might be an illusion.

Again and again the game comes back to tracks, comes back to choice and how choice might be an illusion. Certainly Luc wants to push back against fate, against the will of the runes, against the suffocating order that he sees as inevitable if things are left on their own. He doesn’t want to live in a world where fate is the only consideration, because his fate has always been awful, never gave him even the illusion of choice. And it seems as though maybe the game ultimately comes down on the idea that fate is absolute. That order will overcome chaos. Except that the game is deeper than that. And for all that there’s this focus on tracks, on the idea that you’re always going to end up at the same outcome, the same ending, there’s also a complete rejection of that. Because the story changes based on how you take those tracks. The game actually contains a multitude of different stories depending on how the player chooses to organize it. One character at a time or alternating, playing Thomas or skipping him, these are choices that do have impacts. That reveal different truths and outcomes.

It matters, the game assures, after building itself around a system that seems designed to keep the player from venturing outside the tracks of the game. It still matters. Infinite choice and chaos is never an option. It’s always a decision of branching decisions, some of which come back together again, some of which seem inevitable because it seems impossible to avoid them. But Luc changes his fate. Even if it’s tragic, even if all he can do is opt out, he does that. He defies the will of the runes, and it matters. Just as it matters who the player ultimately decides will become Flame Champion. That choice leads to similar, but also radically different outcomes, because of the personalities involved. It all matters.

Game Still: Hugo asking Chris why after she killed his best friend.
The cycles of violence here are intense and tragic.

The Plays (And Koroku)

So the plays are the best mini-game of Suikoden III, and are up there in the best of the series. There is so much to experience, as you travel around gathering up scripts and then casting your productions. There aren’t a huge amount of plays, and the end result is very brief, just a few minutes long, but you get bonus scripts for loading save data from Suikoden I/II and that gives a good variety and a lot of neat Easter eggs. Once you select the play to perform, it’s time to assign the cast, of which there are tons of options. Now, you do earn money based on how “good” the play is, but the bigger reward is laughing at all the ridiculous combinations of characters and roles that you manage. Yes, things get Real Queer, Real Fast when you play around. Yes, it is amazing. Yes, you can cast an entire play with non-speaking dogs. Yes, I will never not think that is the best thing.

On top of that, the smallest of the viewpoint characters you can play (out of six) is Koroku, the resident dog. He’s actually a Star of Destiny (though his also-recruitable dog friends are not), and he gets to run around the castle talking to people and getting bonus dialogue from everyone. There are some great bits of flavor to pick up, and a few secrets as well. And mostly, it’s just a fun bit of fluff that serves no other purpose than to have fun. And it is. It’s relaxing and you can even have him run around the horse track. Such a good doggo.

Game Still: Four dogs are putting on a play. Kosanji, as Viktor, says “…………”
They’re good dogs, Brent.

Mass Battle Gets Personal

Once again dealing with tracks, the strategic battles shift to a sort of game board-style interface where units are made up of actual characters who fight abbreviated battles using their abilities, magic, and equipment. Unlike every other game in the series, characters who appear in the strategic battles reflect their levels and stats rather than a separate calculation for their battle party. There’s not much in the way of control, but it makes for a less frustrating experience by dumping any semblance of the rock-paper-scissors dynamic and putting more control in the player’s hands. More than even the big boss fights that require multiple active parties, the strategic battles here really give the player a chance to mobilize large numbers of characters, forming different units that take attention and thought.

While in most of the other Suikoden games you can get by with focusing on under twenty characters, Suikoden III takes a bit more than that.

It also means that this is perhaps the only game to really reward the kind of dedicated exploring and leveling up of large numbers of Stars. While in most of the other Suikoden games you can get by with focusing on under twenty characters, Suikoden III takes a bit more than that. Which might seem a bit daunting at first, but the structure of the game already requires the player to have played with and leveled up quite a few characters. And, for those who like leveling up and powering up characters, the game opens up that possibility and gives some very real consequences for it.

Game Still: Strategy battle.
Careful planning and over-preparedness are highly recommended.

Everyone Has Personality

Another departure from the first two games is the decision that there really is no unnamed protagonist. And while the heroes from Suikoden I & II did have personality and character, they were also largely silent. That’s certainly not the case here, and gives a much different feel to the story and the experience. Hugo is young and eager to see the world, and just as soon as he goes out he’s pulled into a conflict that immediately seeks his destruction. He’s angry and his teacher is a duck warrior who’s trying — but really is in over his head. Chris has spent her life under intense scrutiny, everyone around her waiting for the slightest mistake. It’s made her push for perfection — and expect it in everyone else. And Geddoe is fucking tired without losing his optimism, without losing his need to be around people, building a family even as he knows he’ll likely outlive them all. Even Thomas, who technically holds the star of the Hero, is timid but forthright, hoping to live up to expectations without knowing what that means.

If they had subtitled the game A Children’s Crusade, I wouldn’t be surprised, because the ages of the fighters probably averages the lowest of the series. [A] whole slew of children displaced by war and circumstance.

There is no silent protagonist. Everyone is a character. And really, if they had subtitled the game A Children’s Crusade, I wouldn’t be surprised, because the ages of the fighters probably averages the lowest of the series. It’s not just Hugo but a whole slew of children displaced by war and circumstance. They’re joined by adults of all sorts but for me the focus on younger characters gives the game a feeling more of hope than of despair. Though dark, and at times rather bleak, the focus is more on the power of change, the power of standing up to a perceived fate in order to make things better. And there’s a great sense that for Hugo and many of the other kids, they are growing up in a time of conflict and doubt, when they might be hurt and traumatized by what happens to them, but instead band together, protect each other, and refuse to allow the adults around them to lead them into ruin.

Game Still: Hugo’s face from the opening cinematic of the game.
The characters work pops even more than the opening cinematic

And, Okay, It’s Not Perfect

Certainly there are some complaints that could be lodged about parts of the game. The art style, which can seem a bit round and chibi, doesn’t always match the very gritty elements of the story all the time. And the dungeons aren’t nearly as robust as those of most of the other games, and can get a bit repetitive because you have to go through them all about a million times (though the area bosses and mini-bosses were appreciated). The mini-games aren’t as numerous, either, though what’s there is nice. The castle itself is very cool, but it doesn’t change much as your army grows. And the AI in the strategic battles can leave a lot to be desired. The game has lots of replay potential, too, given the big choice needing to be made about who will be the Flame Champion, but it’s a big ask to replay given the length of the later chapters and lack of New Game+.

But It’s Still Awesome

Because for all that it deviates from the expected, that’s what made the series great to begin with. Suikoden III tells a big, ambitious story in a big, ambitious way, and it pays off on the shared history it has with the first two games. For Luc, certainly, it’s the close of a story that began with Suikoden, and for everything else it’s a moving and appropriate way of progressing the larger story of the setting. Sadly, it’s also the last we get, and represents the furthest forward in time the series goes. There are many worse ways it could have closed. Lingering questions still exist, yes, but there’s no denying it’s satisfying and a bit heartbreaking, looping back around, watching that orb return to the island where the rules of Suikoden were first laid out. Where Leknaat is waiting to close the chapter on what could definitely be the best game in the series.

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Charles Payseur
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Charles Payseur is an avid reader, writer, and reviewer of all things speculative. Find him on twitter as @ClowderofTwo