GOD OF WAR

Part 1 – One Journey Ends, Another Begins

This video was recorded and edited directly on my Playstation 4 with SHAREfactory™. If you’d like to see other games I’ve recently played or rated please visit Rebel Gaming Canada’s BIG GAMES LIST.

It has been a long time since last we saw the God of War Kratos. The vengeful and rage filled Greek God and former Spartan who battled through death, hell and Olympus to strike down his own father Zeus. Time has wrought the pain and tragedy into his tired visage. An old man to be sure yet he remains as intimidating and imposing as ever.

Kratos breathes in the cold winter air as he holds his face pressed tight against an elder wildwood tree. This is the last of the trees his loving wife Faye had so meticulously marked out for him and their son. Like breadcrumbs scattered through the forest, the boy and his father have been following her list of final wishes. You see, Faye has died.

The one person in the whole world able to temper the fire and fury in Kratos’ soul has now drifted into the forever after. He now finds himself all alone in the world to raise their son Atreus, a weak and sickly boy. Born of both God and mortal, Atreus is nothing like his father. In fact, the two are more akin to strangers than family.

A fleeting tranquility drains from Kratos’ face as he rises to his feet. Anger and pain wash over him and he unsheathes his axe, a gift from Faye, the Leviathan Axe. Kratos swings the axe hard and strikes the tree. He pauses a moment and then swings again and again. With three steady strikes he shears the towering tree clean through and it drops to the ground with a thunderous smash.

Closing his eyes tight, he lets out a long slow breath. Once again he feels his temper sooth only to be replaced by the grief it leaves behind. He stands in silence for a moment and pushes the sorrow deep inside. In that moment, he notices the bandages covering his forearms beginning to unravel and he considers, just for a moment, letting them fall away completely. With Faye gone, he wonders if he can still remain the man he’s become or will the man he once was come screaming back to life? Just then, he hears something behind him and snaps out of it before hastily refastening the bandages.

Atreus has returned with a collection of herbs and kindling for his mother’s list. He beams with pride as he calls out, “I found some.” However, Kratos turns his back to his son while continuing to tighten the bandages. He does not want Atreus to see what lay beneath. The cursed scars, brands from the Greek God Ares, brands from the Blades of Chaos. The searing reminder of the monster he once was. Those are scars and stories the boy is not yet ready to hear. He may never be.

“Get in the boat boy,” he tells his son, back still turned towards him.

Disappointment eclipses Atreus’ pride, that familiar sting of rejection he feels so often from his own father. With head hung low, he drags his feet to the nearby boat. Kratos picks the enormous tree from the ground and drops it on the dock where Atreus ties it to the boat. With the tree secured, Kratos grabs a sturdy wooden oar and starts paddling up the river.

Apprehensively Atreus scans the shoreline as a shrill chill skitters down his spine. “Father did something change? The forest feels different.”

“Everything is different boy. Try not to dwell on it,” his father responds glibly.

“Yes sir.”

Just down the river, Kratos docks the boat and plucks the tree from the rushing waters. A mere mortal would never be able to budge such a tree let alone carry it over his shoulder. However, Kratos is no mortal. A worn path leads away from the river to a rustic little cabin nestled in the woods. This is their home.

“That was the last,” Kratos sighs as he places the tree on the ground and readies to quarter it.

Atreus proceeds into the cabin. It is dimly lit and eerily quiet. A body lay enshrouded in the center of the room, his mother’s body. Carefully wrapped in linen and adorned with crimson red flowers she rests. The boy picks a candle from the entryway and steps close to the table to sprinkle the herbs across the shrouds.

“Lo there do I see my mother. Lo there do I see my father. Lo there do they call to me. Lo there do they call to me.” Tears well up in his eyes as he closes them and rests his forehead against her before repeating. “Lo there do they call to me.”

A cold wind howls through the cabin door. He looks over and sees the black silhouette of his father hulking in the doorway, the blinding glare from the snow outside blotting out any detail. Atreus wipes the tears from his eyes and says, “She’s ready.”

Kratos moves forward and stands over her for a moment. “Find your way home,” he whispers to her. “You are Free.”

Kratos carries his wife to the wooden funeral pyre he built from the wildwood tree and lays her down atop it. Unsheathing his axe, he kneels on the snow and picks up a flint stone. Sparks explode from the stone as he runs the edge of the Leviathan axe across it. It is not long until the kindling and dried grass catch fire.

Son and father stand and watch as the fire spreads across the pyre, a ballet of sparks dancing across the sky. Suddenly Atreus spots his mothers dagger through the flames and quickly reaches to grab it. The steel is red hot and it sears his hand. Wincing in pain he drops it in the snow, hand clenched in agony. “Sorry,” he tells his father.

Kratos kneels beside him and gathers a handful of snow, placing it in his son’s hand. “Squeeze,” he tells him. “This knife, it was hers,” he continues as he picks it off the ground and hands it to Atreus. “Now it is yours.”

With the funeral pyre consumed in flames, Kratos tells the boy to gather his bow it is time to hunt. Atreus heads inside to gather his things while Kratos lingers. He peers into the flames as if to see his wife emerge anew. With bow in hand Atreus asks, “What are we hunting?”

“You are hunting deer.”

“Which way?”

“In the direction of deer,” Kratos replies.

Atreus asks curiously, “Father why are we doing this now?”

“Because I need to know you are ready.”

“Then we leave for the mountain?”

“That depends on you.”

Atreus spots tracks in the snow and you follow them deeper into the forest to some old and weathered stone ruins. He spots another set of tracks, not deer but boar. Scanning the area, he picks up another set of tracks, these ones deer. They head over a small embankment and Atreus jumps down to follow them. In doing so, he startles a beautiful white deer with glowing blue antlers.

The deer runs off and Kratos growls, “Slow down boy. You are hunting deer not chasing them.”

“Yes father,” he says. As they move further down the path, Atreus catches sight of the deer again. Hurriedly he raises his bow and fires. He grunts in anger as the arrow misses.

Kratos tears the bow from his hands, “What are you doing! Now his guard is up only fire…” he calms himself, “Only fire when I tell you to fire.” Atreus apologizes but Kratos simple remarks “Don’t be sorry, be better. Now find it.” Atreus reaches for the bow but Kratos pulls away from his reach. “Find it.” And with that Atreus huffs and scowls but heads off after the deer.

The smell of death and decay tinges the air as they round a bend in the path. Without warning, they are set upon by a pack of Dragur. Once living, now dead, the Draugr are evil creatures of legend. As long as either of you can remember they have never been this close to the woods. Atreus was right; there is something wrong with the forest but for now, there is no time to think on it. Now it’s time to fight. Kratos grabs the Leviathan Axe and makes quick work of them. They explode in a fury of blood and flame as their bodies fall to ash, a righteous end for such unrighteous beings.

With the last of the Draugr destroyed Atreus spots the deer climbing the cliffs in the distance, “There he went into the temple. My mom told me never to go in there.”

“We do what we please boy. No excuses.”

Kratos proceeds to the large stone doors of the abandoned temple ruins and pulls them open. The worn stone and decaying wood cannot mask the artisanship of the ancient temple. They proceed up a set of stone stairs to a balcony overlooking a large gully. Atreus sees the deer cresting the top of a rocky outcrop in the distance. “Can I have my bow back now?”

“Can you hit it from here?” Kratos asks.

Atreus pauses as he considers the distance, “We should get closer. I went hunting with mother a bunch of times but you never wanted to take me. Why now?” He asks as they push deeper into the old ruins.

“It was her wish. And it was time.”

They continue working their way through the temple in search of a way through to the other side. A worn set of stone stairs leads down to a lower courtyard. It’s infested with Draugr but Kratos makes quick work of them. There is an exit on the far side of the courtyard leading out of the temple ruins. A cleverly designed set of metal gates block the way but Kratos is able to use the Leviathan Axe to get through. You see, the axe is imbued with powerful Norse magic. An icy blessing allows the axe to freeze things solid and the gift of recall allows Kratos to summon the Axe back to his hand at will.

Before departing, Kratos spots an ancient lore shrine and calls Atreus to see it. He recognizes the tale it depicts on the colorful panels, “Oh look it’s Skoll and Hati.” The giant wolves that chase the sun and moon. Where did they come from?” He ponders. “How did they get there?” As he deciphers the final panel of the legend he asks, “What happened there at the end? Did they eat the sun and moon and then everybody fights?”

The panel refers to Ragnarok, “the twilight of the Gods,” When a great war will be fought and many Gods will be killed. During Ragnarok it is foretold that Skoll and Hati will finally succeed in their pursuit and devour both the sun and the moon obscuring both heaven and earth. This some believe will signify the end of the cosmos and usher in a rebirth.

It’s not long before they are back on the trail and find the deer grazing in a small clearing. They have not given up their position and the deer is unaware they are near. “Father look,” Atreus says as he asks for his bow.

“Wait for my mark,” Kratos reminds him as he hands it to him. “Relax. Don’t think of it as animal, it is simply a target.” As the boy raises the bow and takes aim Kratos continues, “Clear your mind. Steady your aim and breathe in,” he says while guiding his sons aim. “Feet solid. Steady yourself. Exhale.” And with that Atreus lets fly the arrow. It strikes the deer true and the magnificent animal falters to the ground.

“I got it!” Atreus beams.

“Good.”

As the boy runs over to claim his prize, he is taken aback. “It’s still alive,” he says.

Kratos kneels down and places his hand on the deer’s forehead. “Your knife,” he instructs. Atreus attempts to hand his father the dagger but he responds, “No. Finish what you started.”

Atreus raises the knife with one hand but he doesn’t strike. He pauses as he now truly sees the deer. It pains him. He strains and clutches the dagger with both hands until he turns to his father. “I can’t.”

Kratos leans over and clasps his hands around his sons. He presses the knife into the flesh of the deer’s neck and slowly removes his hands. Atreus finishes pushing it in all the way to the hilt. He lets go of the dagger and leans back, eyes as wide as saucers. In a state of disbelief he attempts to speak but can only mutter one word, “I.”

Kratos looks at his son and moves to comfort him but pulls away. Instead he removes the knife from the deer and returns it to Atreus. In silence they sit for just a moment until a massive hand reaches up from below the outcrop and grabs the deer.

Instinctively Atreus stabs the enormous hand but it reacts and smacks the boy through the air. Kratos jumps to his feet and leaps towards the monstrous foe kicking it in the head. It’s a giant troll, a Norse beast standing nearly four times the height of any man. The troll stumbles back from the kick and now having lost interest in it, drops the deer at its side. Now the troll has a new prey and it plucks a giant stone pillar from the ground. Atreus yells, “Are we going to fight that?”

“We have no choice,” his father tells him as he readies the Leviathan Axe.

The massive troll is a powerful beast. It slams the stone pillar into the ground like a club shaking the ground so hard it nearly knocks Kratos over. Kratos chooses to keep his distance for most of the fight relying on the Leviathan’s magical properties.

Back in possession of his bow, Atreus provides assistance by firing a barrage of arrows and diverting the troll’s attention. The beast is formidable and its durable hide is tough to pierce but a well-aimed throw finds the axe splitting open his stomach. Mortally wounded the troll falls to its knees. Jumping atop its head, Kratos pummels the creature until it can no longer fight back. He grabs a hold of its tusks and jerks suddenly snapping the troll’s neck.

“That’s what you get,” Atreus shrieks as he dashes over and slashes at the troll’s corpse.

“Boy.”

“You think I’m afraid of you?” He pants. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing!”

“Boy!” Kratos hollers as he grabs his son by the arms. “Look at me boy!”

Atreus eyes have gone wild and he huffs and puffs like an animal. Struggling for air he says, “We did it.”

Kratos looks at his son and decides, “You are not ready.”

“What? Are you serious? I found the deer, I proved myself. How am I not ready?”

“We are going home.”

“I haven’t been sick for a long time. I can do this.”

“You are not ready,” Kratos snarls.

Returning home, Kratos sends Atreus inside while he walks to the remains of the funeral pyre now completely burned away. He reaches down and collects a bag of ashes. Holding them in his hand his eyes quiver as he looks at them. He waits a moment before finally fastening them to his belt and moving inside. He sees his son sitting on the bed pouting.

“It’s not fair,” Atreus mumbles.

“You lost control.”

“That thing was trying to kill us. Besides it’s not like you don’t get angry when you fight.”

“Anger can be a weapon if you control it, use it. You clearly can not.”

“I haven’t been sick in a long time. I’m better now.”

“Fine.” He holds his hands up palms facing his son, “Go on then.”

“You want me to hit you?”

“I want you to try.”

Atreus swings and Kratos slaps his hand. “Ow!”

“Try Again.”

Once again his son tries to punch his father’s palm but Kratos slaps his hand away. The boy jumps to his feet “Why are you doing that?” He shouts.

“Too slow. Try again.” This game continues and Atreus grows angrier and angrier until he screams to stop and falls to the ground coughing. Kratos picks his son off the floor and tells him, “You’re anger. You can get lost in it. That way is difficult.” Scowling, Atreus tries to walk away from his father but Kratos pulls him back, “And you Atreus are clearly not ready.”

The cabin rattles and the dust from the rafters shakes loose as a thundering sound soars over their home. “What was that?” Atreus asks.

“Quiet,” Kratos orders as they stare towards the ceiling.

An almost deafening rhythmic whooshing sound, as if giant wings flapping from the heavens, suddenly stops followed by an eerie moment of silence. Then comes the knock at the door, the knock that will change everything.

“Come on out! There’s no use hiding anymore. I know who you are.” A stranger bellows at the door.

“What’s going on do you know him?” Atreus whispers.

“More importantly I know what you are.” The stranger continues.

“Boy beneath the floor now!”

“But you told me never to go down there. Who is that?”

“I do not know,” Kratos growls as he tosses aside a bearskin rug and opens a hidden trap door in the floor.

“What is he talking about?”

“I do not know, get in.” As Atreus jumps into the hidden crawl space Kratos covers the trap door with the rug.

“Just tell me what I need to know. No need for this to get bloody.” The stranger cackles as Kratos moves towards the doorway.

To be continued…

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