T w e n t y S i d e d

There is one last thing I would like to test your patience with, and it may indeed surprise you: there is so much to love about Final Fantasy XII.

Yes, I’m surprised by it, too! I try to bear it in mind, but I forget sometimes.

I will maintain once more that I could not have gone through all this effort and thought for a game I thoroughly disliked. I have been somewhat unkind to it, but I only care in the first place because there is something in this game that seized my imagination and hasn’t yet let go. There are people who can play a game they hate, that gives them nothing but pain, and remark upon it, and say meaningful things about it and entertain people with their lamentations. I admire these people, but I am not one of them.

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There are a few characters to whom I’d like to extend an honorable mention. Yes, there are a few characters in the plot that I find interestingly written, and, as I transition from talking about the cast to digging a little deeper, who have a little more going on under the dome. Strangely, all of them number among our enemies— or perhaps not so strangely, if you consider that proximity to our party bears an inverse relationship to being interesting and depthful.

Starting from the bottom and working our way up, I find myself oddly endeared by the Judges Magister, despite most of them appearing in three scenes or fewer. Aside from Gabranth, Judge Ghis is the most prominent in the story, and I think the game uses him well in a nuts-and-bolts sort of way to represent the Empire through the first act of the game before being sacrificed to demonstrate the fatal allure of the nethicite. But Ghis has no interaction with the rest of the Ministry and takes no part in what I consider their most interesting scenes in Archades. As Vayne plays Macbeth above, the Judges Magister find themselves playing a community park rendition of Julius Caesar.

In their introductory exchange they all wear their helmets, making it look and sound a bit silly, but it makes them seem more formal and impersonal, setting up a contrast for later. The looming succession occasions a show of their viewpoints: Drace is more concerned with virtue than with unblinking loyalty, Bergan is a malevolent voluptuary of power, and the elder Zargabaath naturally takes an institutionalist posture, respecting his duty despite his clear concern. Gabranth falls right in the center of these three. He capitulates to the Empire’s power and serves them after the fall of Landis, subverting Dalmasca and damning his brother through deception, finding purpose in life through the dogged fulfillment of his duty. Yet in spite of his misdeeds, his warmer exchange with Judge Drace reveal a sense of virtue that he hopes his duty to Larsa can fulfill.

This scene is paid off when Gramis is assassinated. None of the judges wear their helmets for this scene; in a literal and figurative sense, the masks come off, and their true selves are revealed. Drace rejects her duty for her sense of justice, and is laid low by Bergan, who is loyal to the most eminent person of Vayne, not the Law. Zargabaath does his best to restore order in spite of the travesty. Vayne forces Gabranth to capitulate to his power and choose duty over virtue, ending Drace’s life, leaving him disillusioned and embittered.
Continue reading ⟩⟩ “A Travelog of Ivalice, Conclusion: DUSK”

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