NEEDLESS FAN FICTION
In my recent review of Baldur’s Gate: Enhanced Edition, I wrote about how much I appreciated that game’s sense of freedom. Without being open world, it was still a triumph of worldbuilding—a universe full of meaningful interactions, strategic combat, and rewarding exploration. Playing it felt like reading The Lord of the Rings for the first time as a kid (or watching Peter Jackson’s film adaptations, for that matter).
Siege of Dragonspear does away with almost all of that joy. In its place is a rigidly linear march through punishing encounters, erratic difficulty spikes, and vague quest objectives. It’s a deeply disappointing shift in philosophy. The question that kept nagging me throughout was simple: why? Why did this need to exist—and why did I need to play it?
Baldur’s Gate: Siege of Dragonspear is a belated expansion, developed by Beamdog, meant to bridge the narrative gap between Baldur’s Gate and Baldur’s Gate II: Shadows of Amn. I suspect very few players were ever clamoring for that missing chapter. Heroes are allowed quiet stretches in their lives. Not every waking moment in fiction needs to be drenched in drama.
The story begins shortly after the ending of the first game. You are celebrated as the “Hero of Baldur’s Gate,” but fresh trouble is already brewing in the north. A female aasimar named Caelar Argent leads a crusade, spreading chaos across the region. Her army eventually reaches Dragonspear Castle, and the bulk of the expansion revolves around joining a large military force to lay siege to the stronghold and crush the uprising.
The plot has surprisingly little to do with either of the main Baldur’s Gate games. Through an extended prologue and epilogue, it awkwardly attempts to stitch the narratives together, but I still finished the campaign feeling unsure why I’d spent so many hours here. None of the major events are meaningfully referenced elsewhere in the series. Unlike the base game, time dragged. Progress felt forced rather than earned.
I previously criticized the dungeon design of the original game, but those sections were at least the exception. In Siege of Dragonspear, they are the rule. Even outdoor areas feel cramped and claustrophobic. You’re constantly micromanaging scouts to detect traps and ambushes, frequently stopping to let them search. It’s often unclear what terrain is traversable and what isn’t, and nearly every corridor—indoors or out—is stuffed with traps, enemies, or both.
Enemy variety is another strange issue. Each map throws far too many different creature types at you. In the base game, entering a new area often came with a clear identity—this is a spider-infested region, for instance—and you could prepare accordingly. Here, anything goes. You’re forced to constantly reshuffle spells, weapons, ammunition types, and equipment. I spent an absurd amount of time buried in menus, memorizing spells, swapping gear, and reconfiguring my party. After longer sessions, my mouse hand genuinely ached.
As a result, every map becomes a slog. You can easily spend dozens of hours bouncing between the same locations, completing unremarkable side quests or retreating to rest, resupply, and resurrect fallen companions—who then need to be fully re-equipped because they drop all their gear on death.
I do appreciate the attempt at large-scale battles reminiscent of Helm’s Deep (The Two Towers). There are two such sequences, and they’re surprisingly competent given the engine’s limitations. Unfortunately, they’re the exception rather than the rule.
Overall, Siege of Dragonspear reminded me of Icewind Dale (2000), a more linear, dungeon-focused sibling to Baldur’s Gate. The difference is that Icewind Dale was more atmospheric, more confident in its identity, and far more engaging. I finished Siege of Dragonspear after roughly 50 hours, mostly out of stubbornness and relief. The story itself is serviceable, but nothing about it justifies that time investment. At least the presentation maintains the visual style of the classic entries.
Character interaction is another weak point. Several companions—Neera, Glint, and Minsc (whom I’ve never liked)—feel tonally out of place in what’s otherwise a serious, high-stakes narrative. Dialogue options often boil down to the same three archetypes: empathetic, sarcastic, or cruel. Roleplaying outside those narrow lanes is difficult.
I also once again chose a doomed romance—Safana—which predictably collapses for canonical reasons. Oddly enough, I didn’t mind. My half-elven fighter-mage, Flint, seems destined to be lucky in battle and unlucky in love.
Less forgivable was the final boss fight. Weapons that had carried me through the entire campaign suddenly couldn’t harm the enemy at all, who also appeared nearly immune to magic. A very specific set of high-level spells might have worked, but that would’ve required backtracking several encounters to respec, rest, and experiment—with no guarantee of success. Instead, I lowered the difficulty by one notch. Problem solved.
You do what you have to do.
One aspect I like, at least in theory, is the flexibility of quest solutions. Many obstacles can be resolved differently depending on your class, stats, or companions. My low-charisma protagonist often failed at dialogue checks, forcing me to fight or sneak instead. With enough experimentation—stat-boosting spells, potions, or companion assistance—you can usually find alternate routes.
I also enjoyed some of the new magical equipment: capes, rings, tiaras, and other curios with flavorful lore and unique mechanics. Rechargeable magic items, usable a limited number of times per day, are a welcome addition. One item allowed me to identify several objects daily, sparing me a lot of tedious menu work—unfortunately, I gave it away far too early to complete a quest.
Despite numerous updates, technical issues persist. Characters frequently clipped into each other and got stuck. One early side quest bugged out entirely and couldn’t be completed. I also experienced a hard crash that forced me to replay several dull encounters. Given the game’s age, I doubt these problems will ever be fully resolved.
In the end, Siege of Dragonspear left me deflated. I was genuinely excited to experience new Baldur’s Gate content for the first time in years, but this expansion lacks the ambition and magic of the original. On future playthroughs, I’ll almost certainly skip it. I’ll miss out on a few levels—the raised experience cap lands you around level 10–12—but that head start was never necessary for the vastly superior Baldur’s Gate II.
I can only recommend Siege of Dragonspear to die-hard completionists—and I suspect that 99% of them would still prefer every other game in the series.
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