and a murder most foul!

I want to take you somewhere.

To Victorian-influenced streets, broken and crumbling, decorated with a heavy patrol of hungry guards and rats. Debris forms hidden coves and secret caches left behind from families long fled. Homey pubs, intricate brothels, and upper-class estates cling to a dying city.

A floating world, dreamlike and separate from the rest, watches on impassively.

People are murderous and hungry in their washed-out tones and dirty clothes, and there’s a dark thread of otherworldliness as people are driven mad by an outside touch. It should be an ugly world by all accounts, but it’s too deep and resonant to condemn. Everything, even in its state of sickness, is infinitely more vibrant than the world you live in now.

It may be clear by now that I have an intense appreciation and possibly bias towards Dishonored. Even so, I stand by the opinion that Dishonored is downright poetic.

If you haven’t played: Dishonored is a stealth game centered around a seemingly straightforward revenge plot. I think the entire game was marketed on the revenge thing, although there’s a little more nuance to it than that.

Personally, I enjoy the simplicity of the goal. It feels like more often than not, books, movies, and games are under the impression that a highly complex plot will be more interesting and engaging to an audience. Usually, I can’t keep up and get bored, so a plot like Dishonored’s feels refined in a way. As if they cut away all the fat and focused in on what mattered.

Something about the game–and I haven’t figured out what it is yet–is tied to the season. For some reason, when the weather starts to turn cold, around October/November, I have a recurring desire to return to the game. It’s been that way since high school (about 5 years ago at the time of writing this). Logic can’t explain it. I’m like a bird returning to the place it was born with that strange internal compass that boggles scientists.

I’ve never thought about it until now, but I guess I have a strong personal connection to this game. It feels strange to realize literally as I’m writing this.

But nobody cares about that. Back to the summary. If you haven’t played: you play as Corvo Attano, mute protagonist and royal protector to the Empress and her daughter, Emily. I’m pretty sure the trailer spoils what happens but I won’t be as cruel. No, no, no, instead I’ll just link to the trailers. That’s waaay better.

It’s hard to begin talking about Dishonored because I don’t know where to start. There’s honestly so much in this game that makes it fantastic and it’s legitimately one of my favorites. I feel like I say that for every game, but it’s true. There are so many elements that influence me I’d need a book, not a blog post, to talk about them until I’m satisfied.

But, I could pick out a favorite. If I absolutely had to pick out one of the elements of Dishonored that makes it amazing and unique (which I do), the choice would be easy.

But there are levels to it, so I have to do the whole “there’s a frog on a bump on a log in a hole in the bottom of the sea” thing.

We have our hero Corvo, who lives in Dunwall. And sometimes when Corvo goes to sleep, he goes to a dream world, where water falls up and buildings are caught suspended in a strange gravity. And in this dream place, there’s a man. This man’s name is The Outsider and he is my favorite thing about Dishonored.

The Outsider is never fully explained in the first game. When you first meet him, you actually don’t know who or what he is. It’s only through your eventual journey through Dunwall that you see his influence: shrines hidden in swathes of purple, people who can teleport and cast spells, and a religious order who advocate against his supposed existence and worshippers.

Let’s talk about The Outsider, by which I mean let me talk about The Outsider. You just sit back and give me moral support.

The Outsider is a constant in his own realm, watching the tinkerings of humanity for his own amusement. He’s not good or evil, he’s just present in a behind-the-scenes kind of way. The events of Dishonored wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t intervened, and the gameplay wouldn’t be as fun without his gifted powers. The game would be so different in his absence.

I think what I find most appealing about The Outsider is that he’s the core of the poetic nature of Dishonored. He’s a bored god, amused by the antics of his select humans and picking favorites out of the most “interesting” ones.

The way he speaks, with detached tones and careful word choice, makes him feel like a weirdo at first. But the casual reminders of how old and omnipresent he is reminds you that he hasn’t been human for a long time, if ever. A leviathan in human clothing, a miasma of chaotic force, or a big rat wearing sunglasses; I don’t really know what he is. The game never feels compelled to answer that question, and I love that. Maybe it’s the sense of mystery that keeps me spellbound.

Dishonored is an amazing game. I’m always saddened when I talk to someone who hasn’t played it because it’s unlikely they ever will. Its time in the spotlight is long over and I doubt it’s collecting many new players. It’s just the nature of games: everything keeps moving, and newer, better titles release to demand your attention. It’s a shame.

I’d really like if more came from the Dishonored franchise, even in the form of the written word or more animated shorts.

The city of Dunwall is an amazing place, even rotted by the plague, and I really think you should visit it. You should visit The Outsider’s realm, too.

I’m sure he’d like that.

(I wanted to note that I haven’t played Dishonored 2 or Dishonored 1 DLC yet. I bought everything, but it’s been sitting untouched in my Steam library for a few months. They changed The Outsider’s voice actor and that’s a huge reason why I’m dragging my feet on playing the new stuff.)