Have you noticed? You can’t spell ‘Edward Kenway’ without ‘wayward’. And the protagonist of Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag truly embodies the word. At the game’s beginning, he spins a story to his wife about riches in the New World and leaves Bristol by boat. “I want food that don’t make me sick,” he tells her. “I want walls that hold back the wind. I want a decent life.”
He writes home once a year, and otherwise behaves like a man with no responsibilities, to his family or his fellow sailors. After a sea battle spits him out on the shore of Cape Bonavista, he winds up in an altercation with an Assassin named Duncan Walpole. Or “posh git”, as Kenway calls him. When Walpole tries to negotiate passage to Havana, Kenway attempts a robbery, and the fight escalates to the point of murder.
“I’m onto you, Sneaksby,” Kenway cackles, chasing his quarry through the jungle with carefree abandon, as if playing a game of tag that incorporates sabers.
Soon enough, Walpole lies dead in Cuba, his body hidden in a bush, and his outfit donned by his killer. Kenway impersonates the Assassin in the hope of profiting from a deal with a local governor – selling the maps found in Walpole’s pocket, which detail the location of every Brotherhood hideout in the region.
It’s worth noting just how unusual an introduction this is to a protagonist in the series. The induction of Ezio Auditore into the Brotherhood in Assassin’s Creed 2 had been ritualistic and reverent. In a ceremony held at the top of a tower, witnessed by some of the greatest minds of the Renaissance, Ezio had somberly accepted his role in tearing down the Templar’s control of humanity. That centuries-long mission was held to be sacrosanct.
For Kenway, by contrast, the peaked hood is merely a costume to be exploited. By the time he has a proper conversation with a robed-up follower of the Creed, he’s killed still more assassins, and betrayed the location of the rest to Europe’s great empires. Then, he has the audacity to insult them. “By God, you bravos are a cheery bunch eh? All frowns and furrowed brows,” he laughs upon meeting the Assassin mentor Ah Tabai.
Yet Kenway was the perfect match for Assassin’s Creed players in 2013. Ubisoft had released six entries in seven years, and the lore of the series was already a tangled muddle of science fiction and lineage. In fact, the overarching plot that connected the games was so unpopular that Ubisoft had prematurely killed off its modern-day protagonist, Desmond, in Assassin’s Creed 3. As initial plans for a trilogy expanded to the point of confusion, fans became tired of tracking story threads across hundreds of hours of play. Many wanted a soft reset.
In that context, Kenway was a breath of ocean air. This was a man unburdened by lore; one who would never have the patience to read a codex entry about aliens or Pieces of Eden. He laughed in the face of po-faced expositionists, and interpreted the Creed in whatever way he saw fit. To him, the mantra “everything is permitted” was a continuation of Nassau’s pirate mindset – representing freedom from country, duty and allegiance.
At the same time, he offered plenty for series diehards to dig into. Thanks to Assassin’s Creed’s non-chronological journey through history, fans of the series knew something about Edward Kenway even before meeting him. Namely, that his son Haytham would grow up to become a Templar grandmaster, and that his grandson Connor would in turn become an Assassin during the American Revolutionary War. Somehow, a certain ambivalence to the cause was baked into Edward’s DNA.
This relaxed attitude to matters of import was a powerful match for the format of Black Flag, which presented players with greater freedom than ever before. Where its predecessor had confined sea missions to a particular corner of the map, Black Flag let you steer your ship to any point on your compass. It didn’t mind whether you were doggedly pursuing main quests, chasing the treasure in the belly of merchant vessels, or hunting hammerhead sharks with harpoons. If the plot took a backseat to more trivial concerns, as they so often do in open-world adventures, then Black Flag could support that. After all: it’s an approach that suits a man who digs in his heels when faced with obligation.
Ultimately, Kenway is changed by his time in the West Indies. His story takes place over a span of several years – long enough for him to see the damage done by his actions. “For years I’ve been rushing around, taking whatever I fancied, not giving a tinker’s curse for those I hurt,” he says. “Yet here I am, with riches and a reputation, feeling no wiser than when I left home. When I turn around and look at the course I’ve run, there’s not a man or woman that I love left standing beside me.”
On her deathbed, a friend asks Kenway to clean up the mess he’s made. It’s this plea that convinces him to reassess the ideas of the Assassins – which have always defied simple understanding, even for longtime players. “If nothing is true, then why believe anything? And if everything is permitted, why not chase every desire? It might be that this idea is only the beginning of wisdom, not its final form,” he muses.
I won’t lie to you: Kenway is a little less fun once he’s wised up. Controlling a wrecking ball is undeniably exhilarating, and the resulting hangover is more of an apology tour. Yet his redemption arc is convincing and well-earned. Stubborn personalities tend to require plenty of lessons before embracing change. And Kenway’s slow transformation befits a long game – giving the story somewhere to travel while you’re still mopping up missions on far-flung islands.
Now that Resynced is on the horizon, he’s the perfect man to meet the moment once more: heading up a game that rejects the stodgy RPG trappings of modern Assassin’s Creed in favour of a simpler call to the sea. Black Flag wants you to feel wayward, and Edward Kenway is ready to give you permission.
Jeremy Peel is a freelance journalist and friend to anyone who will look at photos of his dogs.
