Tears of the Kingdom: Push and Pull, Part 1

Words: 2962 Approximate Reading Time: 20-25 minutes

Like everyone and their dog, I have been busy playing the new Legend of Zelda game. I am having tons of fun. I loved Breath of the Wild, so it’s unsurprising that I would love Tears of the Kingdom as well. Having consciously avoided discussion about it before its release, I have been able to remain surprised by so many of the changes to the core game (even where much has, unsurprisingly, remained similar).

I don’t really do reviews, but like with so many other major releases I find interesting opportunities to dive into specific subjects. And I thought this time around I would do something a little bit different: a deep dive into some of the systems of the game and how they work. More importantly, the ways in which these systems can create weird incentives or conflict with themselves.

Part of the purpose of this breakdown is putting words down explain some of my frustrations with the game. The little bits that I chafe against, even while I am enjoying the overall experience. It is also a way for me to think through how I play. And perhaps offer an opportunity for others to think about how they play.

And I wanted to call this series “Push and Pull” because it is a way of capturing the complexity of designing game systems. The ways in which the interaction of particular elements, or the ways those systems get used in practice, create potential conflicts. The design may be pushing you in one direction, but your own intentions may pull you in another. One part of the design may push you to do one thing, and another part of the design might pull you to do something else. It is a kind of disharmony that can be tough to really identify until we stop and pick everything apart, looking at the fine details.

The first topic I wanted to tackle was the combat in the game, particularly the weapon system. Players of Breath of the Wild are familiar with the weapon durability system and the game’s inventory spacing. Tears unsurprisingly keeps that basic framework, but reworks some of the core components. What I wish to investigate in this essay is how all that reworking and the individual gears of the machine both fit together, but also get in the way. The play experience is in a way both enhanced and hindered by these systems, and breaking down that interaction is useful to see not just how things go right/wrong, but why.

While I won’t be offering any story spoilers, for those who want to avoid any discussion of Tears – I am someone who is a big believer in and proponent of going in as blind as possible on a game – I suggest closing this down now and waiting. Those who are familiar with the game may well see none of what I’m about to say as a “spoiler” in the traditional sense, but there is enough revealed that any reader should be fairly warned.

Breath of the Wild Recap

Before going into Tears itself, let’s cover the basics from its predecessor.

Players in BotW began with no weapons. Instead, you picked up weapons throughout the world. Perhaps a tree branch, an axe you found propped up against a tree, a sword you found in a chest, or a spear you got from a defeated foe.

But key to that process was two things. Firstly, you had a limited number of weapons you could hold at a time. To begin, the player could hold eight melee weapons, five bows, and four shields. If you encounter a better weapon/bow/shield, you’d need to get rid of something else, first. You eventually could increase the number of inventory slots you have by finding Korok seeds and paying a vendor to expand your weapon pouches. But even then, you were limited to a total of 20 weapons, 13 bows, and 20 shields.

Secondly, the weapons break. Pretty quickly. Different weapons had different durabilities – tree branches and skeleton arms would break almost immediately, while steel swords would last a fair deal longer. But nevertheless, everything you picked up would eventually be lost with use.

The latter component was a source of a lot of frustration among players. And while I personally liked the overall system, the frustrations need to be taken seriously. Because gathering up weapons and then having them break in the middle of combat meant you then needed to go out and gather more weapons to replace them. Weapons are now a resource to be managed.

The overall point of this system, we might say, was to give a form of tension to combat by making players weigh whether they felt it was worth it. Sure, you could take down that gang of Bokoblins, but do you want to risk your weapons?

But that idea probably isn’t interesting on its own. In the early game, it may well make combat more intense – you start out with weak weapons, so a big combat encounter might seem scary. But once you get more weapon slots and start getting a decent cache of weapons together, that intensity goes away. Indeed, once you know where to find certain powerful weapons in the world (which respawn after a certain amount of in-game time), a lot of the scarcity goes out the window.

Plenty of other people have written or talked at length about the weapon system in BotW and shared their frustrations, so I won’t continue here. I merely want to lay out these basics for what is to come next in discussing the system in Tears.

Tears of the Kingdom and Weapon Fusion

So Tears’ layering begins with weapon fusion. It’s a power you unlock in the tutorial area (akin to how BotW gave you your primary powers to begin before sending you off into the big world).

To start, most weapons you find are basically just sticks of some form. There are literal sticks, sturdy sticks, robot sticks…even swords are effectively metal sticks. The narrative conceit is that the story events have caused all metal weapons to degrade, so they are much weaker than before. A fair enough explanation.

So since weapons are weaker, how do you make them stronger? You attach various items to them. It might be as simple as fusing a rock onto a stick, or it might involve killing a monster and attaching its horn to a sword. There are plenty of fun little things you can do, like attaching weapons to other weapons, but the most powerful combinations tend to revolve around finding tough enemies, killing them, and then using their parts to make better weapons.

This means that all weapons have been divided into two components: a base and an attachment. Weapon bases now have different properties. Some are more durable and thus will last longer, some can do more powerful magic attacks with the right attachment, some can be thrown farther, and so on and so on. Some sync better with particular attachments, and for others it may not really matter.

As for the attachments, most of them will be retrieved by slaying monsters. And as I said, the more powerful the monster, the better the attachment you’ll get. This is similar to BotW, where more powerful enemies tended to also carry more powerful weapons. So the basic progression is the same. Some useful attachments can be gathered through basic exploration (such as diamonds, which can technically be retrieved from gem rocks or chests, but very rarely). But for the most part, if you want better weapons, you’ll need to kill tougher enemies.

However, due to the nature of weapon durability, these weapons will still break over time. So that super powerful attachment you got? You’re going to lose it eventually.

The combination factor also means that you want to think about the most effective way to pair bases and attachments, rather than merely attaching the strongest attachment to your strongest base.

This system then feeds into two larger problems with the design that conflict with the underlying combat.

Hoarding

The first of these problems was present in BotW as well. The ever-present question of “but what if I need it later?”

Players familiar with role-playing video games have surely encountered this before. When you have a resource that is universally limited (i.e. there are only so many you can acquire in the game) or functionally limited (i.e. you can get as many as you want, but you can only carry so many at a time or it’s too expensive to stock up on them), there is the question of whether using that resource is “worth it.” Sure, you’re in danger now, but what if you could get through the encounter without using that limited resource? That way, you could save it for when you really need it?

Of course, that moment may never come. You’re holding off for the next boss, and then the next boss, and then the final boss, and then the final boss’s second form, and then the third for- whoops, you actually just won. Congratulations!

If a player feels that a resource is too valuable to use now because they know that they can use it later, that’s fine. But if they refuse to use the resource because they think it might be useful later, then there’s a problem, and it’s a problem of design.

Both BotW and Tears run into this problem. Because weapons are fragile and you can only carry so many at a time, your most powerful weapons feel special. You want to hold on to them in case you run into a really tough opponent. But then, once you locate that opponent, you begin to wonder…what if there’s something even tougher out there?

In BotW, a couple things could help alleviate that problem. A few pretty powerful weapons could be easily acquired on a repeating basis (why not just stock up on the respawning Royal Claymore on top of the Woodland Tower?). But your really powerful stuff? That you had to get from fighting the strongest opponents. That kind of stuff you’d probably want to hang on to…just in case.

Tears ironically makes this worse, not better. By splitting your weapons into bases and attachments, you now have two powerful things to hold on to. Find a really good base for a weapon? Sure, you could fuse your strongest attachment to it…but what if you found something even better later, or something that synergized perfectly with that base? Find an amazing attachment? Sure, you could pop that onto an extra durable weapon base…but what if you found an even better base later, or one that synergized…you get the idea.

It’s not that you will never use your strongest stuff. The game ultimately wants you to use it. But the game is not only unable to overcome that little voice in your head that tells you to save your valuable equipment…it encourages that voice.

And add to that the fact that so many of the attachments have alternative uses. In particular, upgrades for your clothing. See, you can get different clothing sets with different abilities, and those can be improved by visiting a Great Fairy. The Great Fairy will increase the defense of your clothing items, in return for a certain number of materials. And the better the upgrade, the higher quality the materials need to be. Including stuff that would make great weapons. So now you need to decide whether you want to use those attachments for fighting, or for upgrades.

It also certainly does not help that the very strongest equipment drops from the toughest of enemies, making the use and loss of those weapons feel particularly painful. I killed a Silver Lynel to get this attachment! If I use it up fighting a few Moblins, then I have to go kill another one just to get back to where I was! Better to just save it until I really need it, and beat the Moblins up with these sticks I found attached to some rocks I also found…

Gathering

The term I use for this second problem may seem like a mere repeat of the first, but upon further explanation it should make more sense.

Your limited inventory space for weapons can be a hindrance, but it also creates a form of immersive choice. You could hold on to normal weapons for combat encounters, but then be lacking in utility items (an axe and a rock hammer) when you need to chop down trees, open boxes, or smash ore deposits. Or you could have a couple of those utility items in reserve, but then leave yourself with less space for fighting weapons (and thus potentially forcing you to use those much weaker utility items). It’s an interesting conundrum for the first handful of hours in the game.

But as your inventory space grows, that conundrum goes away. Having plenty of weapons for fighting and a couple spare utility items is trivial. At that point, losing a weapon is less a moment of shock and fright and more a moment of annoyance.

One thing I mentioned that Tears added was a lot of new weapon bases with different effects. Some bases are normal, some are stronger than normal (literally, that’s their special effect), some are more durable, some are more brittle but radically increase the attack power of the weapon, some get more powerful when paired with particular attachments.

The variety of different bases is nice in theory, because it allows a bunch of customization. Do you absolutely love using flurry attacks (the special combo you do whenever you masterfully dodge an opponent’s attack)? Then grab yourself some Royal equipment. Are you most concerned with weapon durability? Then focus on Sturdy sticks. Love using charge attacks? Grab some Soldier weapons. And so on and so on.

But with that variety comes the limitations of the inventory. Unless you really do want just one kind of weapon, you’re most likely going to be aiming for a variety of weapons for a variety of situations. A few weapons for solid flurries, some Sturdy stuff for utility, maybe a Soldier Claymore or two for some better charge attacks, etc., etc.

So you will likely find yourself struggling with trying to collect all sorts of different weapon bases to get all sorts of pairings that blend well together. And with that, you run into the problem of gathering – you run out of space before you run out of options. Something has to go.

In the early game, this could all make for interesting choices as you had to think through how you wanted to progress through the game. As time goes on, though, one of two things is likely to occur. Either you want some of everything, just in case. Which means that you’re going to be disappointed because you can’t have everything. Or you focus on just one or two base abilities that you really like, and the variety becomes meaningless. Whenever you encounter a base that doesn’t have the qualities you want, it feels like you’ve wasted your time…and your weapons.

Whichever the case may be, you’re likely to be left with a problem. Either too much, or not enough. You have too many weapons that you like and want to use, but can’t hold at the same time, or you have a bunch of junk bases that you hold on to just in case you need them, but always hope that you might find one of your preferred bases instead.

Concluding Remarks

In talking about these two issues, I am not trying to cover every possible complaint with the weapon system in BotW and Tears. I could easily talk about the tedium that is fusion, for instance..

I could also talk about how I appreciate the customization options that comes with that fusion. The ability to really choose and craft weapons that fit your playstyle in more granular ways gives players a better scope for defining and optimizing their play.

Rather, I point these two particular problems out because they are large-scale systemic issues. They are problems that show up when you play the game for hours upon hours upon hours. They are the kinds of things you wouldn’t notice when the ideas are just theories. They would barely be noticeable if you are interacting with the game just a little bit at a time.

And in saying that, I don’t think this is a case of the developers “messing up.” As much flak as the degradation system gets, it exists to essentially solve a problem with open world combat itself: boredom. At a certain point, fighting in open world games loses its spark for any number of reasons. Often because you simply become so powerful that you can easily steamroll any enemy that crosses your path. The DNA of the Zelda franchise somewhat pushes away from the complicated and more theatrical combat systems of other (smaller-scale) action games, leaving anyone trying to work within such a framework to impale themselves upon the horns of a dilemma. There’s not really a “good” answer to all of this. There are ways that the fundamental system could arguably be improved to reduce the impact of some of these problems while retaining some of the interesting resource management aspects.

But if we wished to remove the system entirely and start from scratch, we would need to pose the following important question: how do we design a combat and weapon system that lives up to the “Zelda standard” (i.e. being fairly simple and approachable for a variety of players), without letting it become stale if the player engages with it for dozens or even hundreds of hours?