Decades of what we'll call... light incest finally blew up in my face. I'd crushed the Cadence at every turn for 150 years. They could not stand up to the unified might of the houses that protected the realm, the houses that had fought the demonic incursion for generations. Their ancestors had lived and died--some on the battlefield, more at home in their beds; they had married and borne children and ruled the lands. But they were mortal, and I was not, and I didn't merely witness the rise and fall of dynasties: I guided them. I forged marriages and alliances and ensured a stream of children for the war effort. But... best laid plans and whatnot... I learned that I was not cut out to meddle in eugenics.

I'd spent so long focusing on maximizing the fertility of the land that I'd lost sight of a more important concern: can any of these love-crazed rabbits actually fight? And while my soldiers were many, they were weak; my hunters (read: archers) had the vision of Mr. Magoo and the mobility of Chris Redfield in the 1996 . For instance, I didn’t realize that one of my "reveler" heroes was hungover until he suddenly couldn’t move as many spaces. Characters that are "strong-willed" (which means they're unlikely to get the traits of their parents) don't project any force of personality on the field. When the game puts so much effort into creating a genetically diverse breeding pool of clashing and conflicting personalities, it's disheartening that little of it can be seen in battle.

The heroes of Massive Chalice felt more real to me as mythic heroes of bloodlines--their indelible effect on generations of warriors not fully understood--than they did as the figures they cut in battle. In the grand strategy portions, they were part of families with house sigils and house words and adopted children. On the field, they were hit point boxes killing other hit point boxes and I couldn't care less about them as individuals beyond being tools for securing ultimate victory. The game's lifeless artwork did little to alleviate this problem. Although watching the members of your Vanguards or Regencies age and wither away until death was fascinating, the look of the heroes was devoid of detail, and left me with an endless trail of blonde/brunette/ginger men and women with caberjack/crossbow/alchemist claws.

That's ultimately Massive Chalice's most unfortunate shortcoming. It’s a game with enough ambition and execution to spark the imagination, and enough organic entropy to let you suspend your disbelief about the families you help sire. But Massive Chalice extends you the invitation and then offers you a half-empty world in return. Massive Chalice's entropy speaks to me. The random chaos that one marriage can wreak over the decades is a mysterious well of excitement. But the flatness of its world and the tedium of several core elements of the Massive Chalice experience is a high price to pay.