Reaver: Anti Hero and Cad

Having recently played through Fable 2 several times I felt moved to create a tribute.  Not to Molyneux’s perhaps, overhyped, game in general, but to one character in particular.  While others have waxed lyrical about the companionship of their pooch and what a wonderful addition it is, I choose to worship at the altar of selfish narcissism that is the Hero of Skill – Reaver.

The Hero of Skill

An anti-hero of the grandest design, this louche character idles into existence in the last third of your game in grand style.  When we first meet him, he is posing for a sculpture, weapon in hand (and a mighty one it is) and won’t deign to speak with you unless you have scraped together enough fame to begin to compare with his.  Fair enough – after all, how could we compete?  He has over 200 ill gained years on every one else, after all.  His dashing cloak, pompous drawl, and coiffured hair speak of true villainy and opulent roguishness and only the great Stephen Fry can do such a character justice – his rich voice breathing life into Reaver like arguably no other could.

With a voice like that, you can almost forgive him...

Reaver isn’t pleasant or noble and his past is certainly a blacker shade of grey… who else would sacrifice an entire town including his family to the shadows in exchange for eternal youth? And unless you take a similar dark path while running his dismissive errand, he will happily sacrifice your vitality too.  There is nothing redeeming about the character – no honourable spirit beneath the fair complexion and jutting chin… the man is vain, arrogant, libidinous, and treacherous, but he carries it in such a swaggering, almost offhand style that it is a pure delight to watch.  Even when his attempts to betray me backfired and we had to escape down the wonderfully named ‘Reaver’s Rear Passage’, I was grinning at his rambling monologue.  The ballsy arrogance with which he assumes credit for victories before attempting to abandon me to Lucien’s whims may have had me shaking my head but I still couldn’t hate him.

Anyone who describes the Great Shard as an enormous, pointy, flying boulder is worth a laugh of respect and he’s the only one who will congratulate you if you choose the ‘Needs of the One’ in the last reel – someone has to, after all.  And when all is done and (largely) said, should you fail to despatch Lucien in a timely fashion, Reaver will grow bored and do the job for you… so perhaps he isn’t all bad and I’m right to adore him.  Indeed, his diary hints of regret at his actions in Oakvale and suggests that the man he is now is an attempt to distance himself from those tragic events.

Whatever Lionhead plan (if anything) for this scoundrel, I hope it doesn’t involve a bullet, for while Reaver is happy to serve up similar to rivals, enemies, and even friends, (and no doubt, me), it would be with heavy heart that I would match my flintlock pistol against his Dragon Stomper .48.  Fiction is replete with loveable scoundrels and for me at least, Reaver is just such a character and should you doubt my Reaver ramblings, then remember… even that other esteemed smuggler – Han, shot first.

Loveable rogues or selfish smugglers?

Without Reaver, for me at least, Fable 2 wouldn’t have been as enjoyable and while my character parks herself in his usurped house (his indignant words, not mine) and puts her feet up on his expensive table, he is undoubtedly flaunting his promiscuity with the ladies and gents in Samarkand or putting a bullet into the head of anyone who suggests that his cheekbones may rest a little lower than he believes… and the thought makes me smile.  It is characters such as him who add more flesh to the bones of a game and without whom, the colour would seem a little less vibrant – the memory of the game would fade that much quicker.  As it is, for me, this swaggering, self indulgent pirate gave Albion an extra swipe of the paintbrush that will ensure that it lingers more fondly in my memory.

I can say with a grin that I have explored Reaver’s Rear Passage and it was a delight, so I sweep my hat off, (very carefully) to the Hero of Skill and say ‘thank you’.  But of course, this obvious and deserved gesture is unnecessary as in true Reaver style, credit will already have been assumed.