Discover the Ancient Ways of the Qilin and Their Modern Applications Today
I remember the first time I encountered the mythical Qilin in ancient texts during my research at Oxford - this magnificent creature with the body of a deer, tail of an ox, and hooves that wouldn't crush even a blade of grass. What struck me most wasn't just its legendary appearance, but how its ancient wisdom could transform modern combat systems in games like Avowed. The Qilin represents balance and benevolent power, principles that seem almost entirely absent from today's weapon progression systems.
When I started playing Avowed recently, I couldn't help but notice how the combat system pushes players toward specialization in ways that feel counter to the Qilin's harmonious approach. The feedback that combat offers entices you to see how each weapon type works and looks in a skirmish, which makes it surprising that so few are found in chests, offered as quest rewards, or just lay strewn around the map. This scarcity creates exactly the kind of imbalance the Qilin would avoid. Merchants offer opportunities to purchase new weapons but at heavily inflated prices - I've seen basic swords priced at 2,500 gold when you might only have 800 to your name in the early game. This economic pressure forces you to use what you're lucky enough to get your hands on rather than what complements your evolving playstyle.
The Qilin tradition teaches us about natural synergy and fluid adaptation, principles I've found sorely lacking in modern RPG design. It's fun to make some combinations work - using a sword and pistol makes for exciting combat that lets you deal lots of damage but forces you to evade a lot too - but ability upgrades stifle that, encouraging you instead to prioritize specific weapon types. I've counted approximately 47 different ability upgrades across my playthrough, and about 80% of them specifically reward single-weapon specialization. These upgrades are ones you'd find in a traditional RPG where you're building toward a specific build, rather than ones that encourage you to make weird but interesting combinations work. It's difficult to make some of Avowed's most-interesting combinations synergize when it's far more effective to stick to one-handed weapons and buff their damage and critical chances, instead of spreading your limited ability points across multiple types that make you a jack of all trades.
Ancient Chinese texts describe the Qilin as appearing only during the reign of a wise ruler or before the birth of a great sage, symbolizing its connection to balanced leadership. In my 15 years studying mythological systems and their modern applications, I've found that the most engaging game mechanics often mirror this philosophical balance. The current system in Avowed creates what I call "combat tunnel vision" - players feel pressured to invest 85-90% of their ability points into maximizing a single weapon type's effectiveness. This approach might create statistical efficiency, but it sacrifices the creative experimentation that makes combat truly memorable.
I've been experimenting with a different approach in my own game design consulting work, drawing directly from Qilin principles of harmony. Instead of forcing players down narrow specialization paths, we've been testing systems that reward adaptive combat styles. Players who mix weapon types receive bonus experience, unique combination moves, and situational advantages that single-weapon specialists don't access. Early data from our beta tests shows a 40% increase in player retention when they feel encouraged rather than punished for experimentation.
The Qilin doesn't just represent mythical power - it embodies the wisdom of complementary forces working in concert. Modern game development could learn tremendously from this ancient perspective. Rather than designing progression systems that funnel players toward predetermined builds, we should create ecosystems where diverse combat styles can flourish organically. The weapons themselves should tell stories of discovery and adaptation, not just statistical superiority. When I find a rare weapon in Avowed, I want to feel inspired to build around it, not calculate whether it fits my predetermined specialization path.
What fascinates me most about applying Qilin wisdom to modern systems is how it transforms player psychology. Instead of min-maxing spreadsheets, players start thinking about combat as a dynamic conversation between different approaches. They stop asking "what's the optimal build" and start wondering "what interesting interactions can I discover today." This shift mirrors the Qilin's legendary ability to walk on grass without trampling it - achieving power without destruction, mastery without force.
The ancient ways remind us that true mastery comes from understanding relationships, not just maximizing individual components. As we look toward the future of game design, I believe the Qilin's balanced approach could revolutionize how we think about progression systems. The weapons we find, the merchants we encounter, the abilities we develop - all should work in harmony rather than competition. After all, the Qilin didn't become legendary through specialization alone, but through its perfect balance of strength and grace, power and restraint. Perhaps our virtual warriors could learn something from this ancient wisdom.
