Since the early days of role-playing games, I’ve always loved the illusion of freedom they offer. You talk to a random NPC, not knowing that a casual conversation might spiral into an entire questline.
That sense of discovery is its own reward.
But some games went further. They didn’t just let me explore—they let me rule.
They gave me a castle. Staff. Land. Responsibility.
That hooked me immediately.
I’ve always had a soft spot for highborn origins. If a game lets me choose, my characters are usually dukes, princes, lords, or something adjacent to nobility. Give me a title and a domain, and I’m in.
For a long time, very few RPGs truly committed to that fantasy. One of the best modern examples is Pathfinder: Kingmaker, which we’ll get to later.
First, let’s talk about the games that made me realize how powerful this mechanic can be.
(Also: spoilers ahead.)
Dragon Age: Origins
This game had everything I wanted.
It let me be of noble birth. It made me watch my parents die. It convinced me I was now the head of my house. NPCs across Ferelden acknowledged my origin in conversation. By the end, I could even become King-Consort (or Queen-Consort, depending on your character).
It was deeply immersive.
I miss this game—but I don’t replay it often. Modern graphics and pacing have spoiled me a bit, and going back feels harder than it should. Maybe one day I’ll get over that.
Or maybe EA will finally give it the remake it deserves.
Dragon Age II
This one is only here briefly, and honestly, it’s complicated.
I didn’t fully connect with Dragon Age II. The story had moments I liked, but it also had noticeable gaps. The visuals were a big step up from Origins, sometimes to the point where it felt like that was the main selling point.
Still, it did one important thing: it gave me status.
I inherited my mother’s house (after a traumatic sequence I’m still not over), became Champion of Kirkwall, and was treated with respect. I was wealthy, influential, and visible.
For a moment, I even had the chance to become Viscount of Kirkwall.
That power didn’t last long, but while it did—it felt good.
Neverwinter Nights 2
This game went all-in on the fantasy of responsibility.
I became a Knight, then a Knight-Captain, and eventually the ruler of Crossroad Keep. I gained land, a title, and authority within Faerûn. For the first time, my choices affected more than just dialogue outcomes.
I loved it.
The Mask of the Betrayer expansion took the story in a much darker direction and pulled me far away from my keep. It was excellent—but part of me wanted to return and continue rebuilding what I had started.
Later, Storm of Zehir let me create a new character entirely. I wasn’t a noble anymore, but I still had resources, influence, and the ability to shape the world.
Different flavor. Same feeling.
Dragon Age: Inquisition
This is the game where the fantasy truly clicked.
As the Inquisitor, I wasn’t just reacting to the world—I was shaping it. I built camps, captured keeps, judged NPCs, and managed an organization that spanned the continent.
Whenever I established a camp, I saw my troops fighting monsters, guarding roads, and helping nearby villages. The world visibly responded to my presence.
Even money and influence felt like tools rather than abstract numbers.
By the end, much of that power was taken away—but for most of the game, I genuinely felt in charge.
And yes, I’m still waiting to see where the story continues in Dragon Age: The Veilguard.
Pathfinder: Kingmaker
This game surprised me.
It began like a standard party-based adventure. I knew rulership was coming eventually—but I didn’t expect how deeply it would pull me in.
When I finally earned my title, I realized something uncomfortable: ruling wasn’t just a reward. It was work.
I had to manage time, crises, advisors, and the emotional weight of leadership. I could walk through my settlement and feel connected to it—not just mechanically, but humanly.
No other game had made that responsibility feel this tangible.
The time limits could be stressful, and yes, patches may have changed things since I last played—but the core experience stuck with me.
Power wasn’t just influence anymore. It was accountability.
Game Developers: Let Players Run the World
Players want to feel that their actions matter.
Story and characters will always be the heart of RPGs—but if you cast the player as a noble, a leader, or a ruler, commit to it.
Let us govern.
Let us manage.
Let us change the world in ways that don’t involve killing another monster.
Let us shoulder responsibility.
I promise—I’ll show up for that kind of game every time.
