Why Evie Frye Makes Me Love Assassin’s Creed Again

I thought I was done with Assassin’s Creed. Having played every mainline game in the series, I’d like to say I’m well versed in its many highs and lows; witnessing first-hand how the mediocre games have gradually begun to outnumber the good ones, with last year’s bug-riddled Unity still fresh in the memory as an obliterator of any enthusiasm I once had for this historical, neck-stabbing franchise. After that debacle of technical ineptitude, tired ideas and rapidly aging mechanics, there should have been no going back to Ubisoft’s flagship franchise. And yet here we are, just one year removed, and despite the series’ many missteps and current downward trend, Syndicate has managed to keep gnawing at my attention.
Assassin’s Creed has always had beautifully realized cities, from its humble beginnings in the likes of Jerusalem, Florence and Rome, right up to Unity’s phenomenal recreation of Revolutionary Paris. Just walking the cobblestone streets of the French capital was a joy to behold: taking in the sights and sounds, sampling the architecture and the contrast between the rich and poor, from the grandiose golden interiors of La Marais, to a raucous pub of singing Parisians in Ventre de Paris.
And so we come to London, 1868—the bait Syndicate has used to reel me back in. I mean, how could I resist? My immediate family hails from North London, and while my parents were smart enough to move to the outskirts just before I was born, I’m very well acquainted with my nation’s capital. Family outings and school trips made sure the gamut of tourist hotspots was ticked off the checklist of Things to Do in London, while more low-key outings have accrued over the years with venture’s to music gigs and sporting events in Brixton, Finsbury Park and the like. I’ve never been to Italy or the United States (woe is me, right?), and have only ever driven through Paris on a trip to Disneyland, so the lure of an Assassin’s Creed game actually set somewhere I’m intimately familiar with was far too tempting to pass up.
I’m glad I took the plunge.
Syndicate’s London is the visual marvel I had hoped it would be. As intricately detailed as Paris before it, this rendition of a coal-covered London is immediately familiar yet foreign at the same time—a city inching ever closer to modernity, while still seeped in remnants of the medieval era. The landmarks are as you would expect: wonderfully realized in all their vast splendor, from St. Paul’s Cathedral to Big Ben, and beyond. The Tower of London is just as I remember it from a fairly recent visit—the patrolling Royal Guards replacing tourists snapping pictures—while Trafalgar Square is as busy as ever, with its healthy pigeon population offering no better sign of authenticity.
Yes, it may be over a century ago, but familiarity permeates almost every nook and cranny of this London town, particularly when it comes to that distinct London feel. If you’ve ever visited the city then you know the one: a unique sense of place that transcends famous landmarks and recognizable sights. It manifests in the dreary grey skies that blanket the city in gloom. In the clouds that unleash a torrent of rainfall that lines the streets with puddles, reflecting the chaos of its bustling crowds back onto the populace. And in the trains that bellow out of King’s Cross filled with weary passengers, as merchants with sore backs try their best to sell their wares by shouting at the top of haggard lungs. This is certainly London.
It enticed me back to a series I had fallen out of love with, yet it’s not what made me fall for Assassin’s Creed all over again. That was Evie Frye.
Though the marketing may not have always made it apparent (nor the box art), Evie Frye is one of Syndicate’s two playable protagonists, sharing the spotlight with twin brother (and top hat lover) Jacob. He’s the archetypal Assassin’s Creed protagonist—you know, the one that this series has clung to ever since Ezio Auditore lovingly graced our screens—and Evie is his perfect foil. Intelligent, witty and caring, but relentless when she needs to be, Evie is an astute counterpoint to Jacob’s rogue cockiness and cavalier approach to all things assassin. They’re the consummate double-act and a believable team—one’s strengths making up for the other’s weaknesses—and the writing does an excellent job of bouncing the two of them off each other in the sort of playful way you’d expect of twins who bicker and argue, but still clearly love one another.