Post Script
Why Wings Of Ruin’s wilful AI is a strength, not a shortcoming
AI companions get a rough time of it. Belittled, insulted and widely mocked, our little computer-controlled friends are frequently the cause of frustration – and understandably so. They end runs early, deploy useless attacks in battle and more often than not are more trouble than they’re worth. But what if that unpredictability, that lack of focused logic, was used as a mechanic?
AI teammates in RPGs have never been popular – the multiple post-release versions of Persona 3 gave you direct control of your allies for a reason – but Monster Hunter Stories 2 addresses that in a way appropriate to the feral, semi-tame monsters you build gentle alliances with as you progress. Charging headfirst into battle with a Royal Ludroth, say, means you want something that hits hard, smacks other monsters about a bit and then soaks them with a powerful wave of water. In this game’s skill triangle, power beats technical. But as the raging Tetsucabra prepares its attack, your Royal Ludroth – acting of its own free will – decides it’ll go for a speedy attack this turn. Which loses out to technical. Oh.
But therein lies the charm. Similar to Pokémon, you have a party of other creatures you can call into battle – perhaps the feckless Royal Ludroth needs a break (well, its head is a little muddy after that Anjanath fight) and we can coax a Bulldrome in instead. Maybe that’ll be more consistent in its attacks. Having to dedicate points to order your creatures around makes them feel more like, well, creatures. Predicting when they might deviate from how they’re supposed to behave and having contingencies set up to best soften their impact is a truly mesmerising part of a game that often feels like it needs to click in your face to get your attention.
It works the other way, too. If a monster you’re facing is known to pile on the technical attacks for the most part, if you break its horn off or shatter its femur, it might start mixing it up – probably just to spite you. Watching your neatly organised flowchart of attacks, healing items and support buffs fall apart as an angry Nargacuga skewers your erstwhile lizard friend really hits you in the heart.
Monsters are supposed to be wild and unpredictable – that’s the whole point of the Monster Hunter series – and seeing that instinct-driven, non-human logic work on both ends of the battlefield is a delight. Having an AI companion yell “You need to learn their patterns!” in a patronising way if you happen to read an encounter wrong should be irritating, but that’s exactly what you’d call out to a fellow Hunter getting bodied by a Rathalos in any other mainline Monster Hunter game. In that sense, it feels entirely authentic.
We’re reminded, inevitably, of Trico and how The Last Guardian’s baked-in awkwardness matched its belligerent personality. Whether it’s our imagination or not remains to be seen, but some monsters – the more mischievous types, perhaps – seem to intentionally swap out predicted moves for unnecessary buffs or weird esoteric attacks just when we’re about to land a fatal blow on a boss.
Given that the game’s main narrative conceit is about kinship and forming bonds with these creatures (Pokémon, eat your heart out), seeing some of the more primeval beasts march defiantly to the beat of their own drum is reassuring. Monster-collecting games should embrace weird, wonderful (and even outright stupid) AI more in the future; there’s nothing more endearing to an RPG player on their last morsel of health – staring into the jaws of defeat at the hands of a particularly stubborn mega-boss – than a considerate special move from an ally that has been famously uncooperative up until that exact point. These are the moments that stick with you, the emergent stories you never get tired of telling. And they’re almost worth all the frustration it takes to get there.