Atelier Ryza 2: Lost Legends & The Secret Fairy is a JRPG sequel that is admittedly anime. I’m talking about the sickly sweet variety, where a gust of wind blows through some cherry blossoms, a schoolgirl turns to look at the camera and the power of friendship will always prevail. And in the beginning, I found it difficult to cut off his sickening positivity.
But learn to accept AR2, or at least, Neo-swerve out of your way of the sun and fanservice, and a surprisingly complex JRPG goes forward. So complex, in fact, that I still don’t really understand how turn-based combat or fabrication works, but I want to play more anyway. I have this desire to dig deeper and I can’t help myself.
I wouldn’t say that the AR2 storyline has anything to do with what hooked me. Set three years after the events of the first game, you play as Reisalin Stout (also known as Ryza), an alchemist who lives on the idyllic Kurken Island. She wants to improve her alchemy skills and decides that the best place to do this is the continent’s capital, Ashra-am Baird.
One brilliant thing leads to another, and soon Ryza is embracing old friends and remembering and planning new adventures. There is Tao, the smart one, Patty, the one who wields a sword twice its size, and Klaudia, the silent archer. More friends join the crew later, including my favorite Clifford, the romantic cowboy. It turns out that the gang is hungry to explore the ruins around the capital, as in the good old days! Meanwhile, I, having never played the first game, feel like an amnesiac at a school meeting.
AR2 is, for want of a better term, good anime. Even for an anime fan, sometimes it got a little too much. Ryza and his companions mark the boxes of the tropes, with thoughts and actions that are all quite predictable. Occasionally, I just wanted to take anything apart from a prepackaged answer from them. Don’t tell me about the fanservice either, as the game (surfing a wave of memes about thick thighs) employed many dubious camera angles.
After a little friendly exploration, Ryza and co. join a melon-sized creature called Fi. This little friend is the key to [waves arms vaguely] something, or something. From now on, you and the gang crawl through the dungeons to find out why this flying yeti rat is so important. However, this amounts to a lot of superficial text about how a big monster is changing the parts behind the scenes of each particular dungeon, but never really feeling threatened.
For those who played the first AR, I’m sure the renewed camaraderie will keep them interested, no matter what. But for newbies like me, the mystery surrounding Fi didn’t compel me enough to move on. I needed a major main antagonist to chase, or to escape, or even just to laugh at me.
But now cut to Ryza’s cauldron by breaking the door. Against all odds, this big pot was what got me back for more. It allows you to transform ingredients you’ve gathered around the world – like sardines, ore and plants – into increasingly powerful items: anything from a few curative beans to a new staff. All of this is presented through a stunning and complex crafting menu, and a skill tree so vast that I sometimes get lost in it.
At first, I was scared of everything, but I quickly realized that there is no wrong way to do things on AR2. I like the fact that it caters both to those who can touch its finer details, and to those of us – me – just happy to make a bracelet with some mushrooms and an ingot. There is a huge depth here for people who are knowledgeable in alchemy and like to play with percentages of statistics, but that doesn’t punish you for doing your best, even if you have no idea what you’re really doing.
This extends to AR2 combat as well. Much like Pokémon or Dragon Quest, you start a fight by running into a monster that is minding its own business. This takes you to a bespoke arena, and the turn-based battle begins.
Unlike some JRPGs, the action on AR2 does not pause indefinitely between turns. It happens in real time, which means that you must pay attention when you can attack and when the enemy can hit a shot. A sliding meter gives you an alert on this front, but I prefer you not to question me about the other 8,000 bars and numbers that go up, flash and tinkle at me.
Despite my lack of understanding, I really like the flow of combat in AR2. I think it’s because the meetings look like management mini-sims. Each attack feeds a number or bar and you use them to perform powerful moves with wicked animations. I found it immensely satisfying to fulfill these quotas, because before you knew it, you set up a sequence of special movements out of nowhere.
I know someone who understands the combat complexities of AR2 would roll their eyes with my mere combat prowess, but it felt like the game planted a helping hand on my shoulder, as if to say, “Hey, shut up, it’s okay. I don’t know what you’re doing, but here, make a flashy move. “There’s one I really like, where Patty lights his blade and draws it in a fluid motion, hurling a rotating fire bomb at the enemy.
The exciting combat helps to offset the occasional monotony of dungeons in AR2, which is a fairly standard fare. Mostly, you will run along corridors towards mission markers, fight monsters. Occasionally, you open a chest or climb some vineyards. There are no Zelda-style puzzles, unfortunately. You get a little boss fight as a pleasure, sometimes. They are not horrible, but I am not convinced that Ryza and the team find them as exciting as they demonstrate.
Although, the dungeons look very good. You have fortresses destroyed with moss-covered bells and submerged cities full of plants. Elsewhere, the capital with its varied districts and the forests that surround it are all attractive. They won’t take your breath away, but the game is full of absolutely cozy places to have fun.
But, in fact, these are additional bonuses on my journey, a good dose of WD-40 to facilitate a world of machines I made to increase Ryza’s performance. If you are able to overcome all self-conscious cuteness, AR2’s focus on craftsmanship may simply appeal to you. I mean, look at me: I’m on an unrelenting search for better equipment and I don’t even know what I’m doing. Imagine if I did.