The question of narrative branching in Japanese Role-Playing Games (JRPGs) is a fascinating and complex one, often centering on player choice and its tangible consequences. When the discussion turns to games featuring kingdom or faction allegiances, a natural point of comparison emerges: Fire Emblem Fates. Released in 2015/2016, Fates is famous for its foundational, binary choice where the player must align with one of two warring kingdoms, Hoshido or Nohr, with a third "Revelation" path available as DLC. This decision famously splits the game into three distinct campaigns with unique stories, maps, and characters. To many, this represents a pinnacle of branching narrative in the genre. However, when we broaden our scope to examine other JRPGs that incorporate kingdom or faction choices, we find that Fates, for all its ambition, often represents a specific, somewhat rigid type of branching. Many other titles achieve greater depth, nuance, and player agency through more integrated, systemic, or morally ambiguous approaches to kingdom allegiance.
The branching in Fire Emblem Fates is best described as "macro-branching." The choice between Hoshido and Nohr is a single, monumental decision made early on, which effectively locks the player into one of three largely separate narrative silos. The branching is profound at the campaign level—playing Birthright is a fundamentally different experience from playing Conquest—but within each individual path, the narrative is remarkably linear. Once you choose your kingdom, the story proceeds along a predetermined track with limited further divergence based on your actions. The choices you make within, say, the Nohr campaign, do not alter the kingdom's overall fate or your standing within it in a significant way; they might affect support conversations or individual character survival, but the central plot beats remain fixed. The "branch" is less a fork in the road and more the selection of an entirely different road map at the journey's outset. This structure provides incredible content volume and replayability but sacrifices the feeling of shaping a single, dynamic world.
In contrast, many other JRPGs employ what can be termed "micro-branching" or "systemic branching" in relation to kingdom choices. A prime example is the Suikoden series, particularly Suikoden II and Suikoden III. In these games, the player's allegiance is not a one-time choice but an evolving relationship built through a series of decisions, recruitment efforts, and strategic investments. The core conflict often involves building your own army and headquarters (the eponymous castle). The branching is not about choosing a pre-written path but about actively constructing a faction's strength and alliances. Your choices determine which of the 108 Stars of Destiny you recruit, which directly impacts your available forces, the capabilities of your castle, and even the outcome of large-scale wars. The narrative divergence is woven into the gameplay systems; failing to recruit a key strategist might lead to losing a major battle, altering the political landscape. This creates a branching narrative that feels emergent and organic, a direct result of the player's cumulative efforts rather than a single, stark decision.
Another layer of complexity arises in games where moral alignment is intrinsically tied to faction choice, creating branching paths defined by ideology rather than simple geography. Tactics Ogre: Let Us Cling Together is a masterclass in this approach. Here, the player's choice between three factions—the Bakram, the Galgastani, and the Walister—is not a clear-cut good vs. evil decision. Each faction is mired in its own justifications, prejudices, and crimes. The branching is profound and often heartbreaking; aligning with one group means opposing characters you may have grown fond of in a previous playthrough. Crucially, the game features a "World" system that allows players to revisit key decision points and explore alternate branches without restarting from scratch, acknowledging the weight and complexity of these choices. This creates a web of interconnected narratives where the "true" story is the sum of all possible paths, a far cry from the more isolated narratives of Fates. The branching in Tactics Ogre is about perspective and moral consequence, asking the player not "Which family will you choose?" but "Which flawed vision for the future will you champion, and what sins are you willing to accept to achieve it?"
Furthermore, some modern JRPGs have begun to blend kingdom management with narrative branching in ways that create persistent world states. Triangle Strategy (though spiritually a successor to Tactics Ogre) exemplifies this. The game’s narrative is driven by a Scales of Conviction, where party members vote on major decisions based on their convictions, which the player can influence. These choices—such as which kingdom to ally with or which resource to prioritize—have cascading effects. They determine which characters join you, which locations become accessible, and which battles you fight. The branching is constant and impactful, occurring at multiple junctures throughout the story rather than just at the beginning. This results in a multitude of endings that reflect the sum of your diplomatic and moral choices, creating a branching structure that is more of a complex flowchart than a simple tree with three primary limbs. The focus is on the journey itself being a series of branches, each shaping the final outcome.
It is also worth considering games where the "kingdom" is the player's own, and branching is tied to its development. The Dragon Age and Mass Effect series (while Western-developed, they heavily draw from JRPG conventions) demonstrate this with their Paragon/Renegade system and companion loyalty. Your treatment of various factions and party members doesn't just change a ending slide; it determines who fights alongside you in the final battle, which factions provide support, and ultimately, the survival of key characters and the political state of the world post-conflict. This level of consequence, where seemingly minor interactions can have major ramifications later, represents a deeper form of integration between choice and narrative than the path-based model of Fates.
This is not to diminish the accomplishment of Fire Emblem Fates. Its model of macro-branching is incredibly effective from a production standpoint, allowing for tightly crafted, focused stories tailored to each faction. The emotional impact of choosing between blood and bond is powerful, and the gameplay differences between the more straightforward Birthright and the challenging, morally complex Conquest are significant. It offers a clear, compartmentalized form of replayability.
In conclusion, while Fire Emblem Fates stands as a bold and memorable experiment in narrative branching, JRPGs as a genre frequently explore forms of branching that are more intricate, systemic, and interwoven with core gameplay mechanics. The branching in Fates is broad but shallow within its chosen paths, relying on the selection of distinct narrative lanes. Games like Suikoden, Tactics Ogre, and Triangle Strategy demonstrate that branching can be a continuous, evolving process where player agency shapes the world through recruitment, moral choices, and strategic decisions. These games create branching narratives that feel less like choosing a pre-written script and more like authoring a unique story within a dynamic world. Therefore, the answer is a nuanced yes: many JRPGs with kingdom choices do indeed possess more, and more sophisticated, branching than Fire Emblem Fates, achieving their complexity through integration and persistent consequence rather than a singular, defining fork in the road.
