If you’re tired of the "chosen one" trope where a group of teenagers saves the world through the power of friendship and pure hearts, you’ve probably landed on Tales of Berseria. It’s a weird game. It’s dark. Honestly, it’s basically a revenge flick masquerading as a high-fantasy JRPG. Most games in the Tales series—and most RPGs in general—put you in the shoes of the hero. But the Tales of Berseria characters? They’re the bad guys. Or at least, that’s what the world thinks.
Velvet Crowe isn't interested in saving anyone. She’s hungry. She’s angry. She’s spent three years in a hole eating demons, and she wants to rip the throat out of the man the rest of the world calls a Savior. It’s a jarring shift. Usually, by the ten-hour mark, you've met a quirky healer and a noble knight. In Berseria, you’ve broken out of prison with a blood-mad swordsman and a witch who sets things on fire because she’s bored.
The brilliance of this cast isn't just that they’re "edgy." It’s that they are functional adults (mostly) with messy, selfish motivations that somehow coalesce into a family. It’s a found family trope, but instead of baking cookies, they’re committing light arson and destabilizing a global theocracy.
The Velvet Crowe Problem: More Than Just an Edgelord
Velvet is a fascinating protagonist because she’s constantly vibrating with a singular, destructive purpose. When we first meet her in the prologue, she’s a doting sister. She’s domestic. Then, the Scarlet Night happens. Artorius Collbrande, her mentor and brother-in-law, sacrifices her younger brother, Laphicet, in a ritual. Velvet’s life ends there, and the Lord of Calamity is born.
She’s a Therion. She eats Malaks and Daemons with that gnarly, bandaged left arm. But here’s what people get wrong about her: she isn't heartless. She’s traumatized. Throughout the game, her interactions with Number Two (later named Laphicet) show a woman desperately trying to suppress her maternal instincts because they’re a liability. You see her struggle with the fact that she needs to be the villain to get her revenge. She accepts the title of "Lord of Calamity" not because she wants to rule, but because it’s a convenient shield. It lets her stay focused on Artorius without having to explain herself to a world that wouldn't understand anyway.
Why the Support Cast Isn't Just "Sidekick" Material
A lot of games treat side characters as stat blocks or sounding boards for the lead. Berseria doesn't do that. Take Magilou, for example. At first glance, she’s the "annoying" comic relief. She’s loud, her outfit is a literal circus, and she talks in riddles. But as the layers peel back, you realize Magilou is perhaps the most cynical, broken person in the entire party. She’s a former prodigy who looked into the abyss, saw it was empty, and decided to make a joke out of it. Her "Magilou’s Menagerie" skits aren't just fluff; they’re a coping mechanism.
👉 See also: Little Big Planet Still Feels Like a Fever Dream 18 Years Later
Then there’s Rokurou Rangetsu. He’s a Daemon, but he doesn't act like the mindless monsters you fight in the fields. He’s obsessed with a singular goal: killing his brother, Shigure. He owes Velvet a "debt" for helping him find his sword, and he follows her out of a sense of twisted samurai honor. It’s a weirdly professional relationship. He’s probably the most "stable" member of the group, which says a lot considering he’s a literal demon of war.
The Malak Conundrum: Laphicet and Eizen
Laphicet (the boy, not the brother) is the moral compass, but not in a preachy way. He starts as a blank slate—a "Malak" without a will. Seeing him develop a personality by watching this group of criminals is both heartwarming and deeply concerning. He learns bravery from a pirate and empathy from a woman who eats people.
Eizen is the standout for many fans. The "Reaper." He carries a curse that brings misfortune to everyone around him. In any other game, he’d be a brooding loner. In Berseria, he’s the first mate of a pirate crew. He’s a scholar. He loves history and architecture. He’s also the brother of Edna from Tales of Zestiria, which adds a layer of tragic irony if you’ve played that game first. You know how his story ends. You know he eventually loses his mind and becomes a dragon. Watching him fight for his "creed" in Berseria is a gut-punch because you know he’s fighting a losing battle against destiny.
The Antagonists: Is Artorius Actually Wrong?
The Abbey is the primary antagonist group, led by Artorius Collbrande. They want to strip humanity of emotion to end the "Malevolence"—the literal physical manifestation of human sin and negative feelings. From a purely logical standpoint, Artorius has a point. If humans can't feel hate, they can't turn into Daemons. The world becomes safe. Peaceful. Quiet.
But it also becomes a graveyard of the living.
✨ Don't miss: Why the 20 Questions Card Game Still Wins in a World of Screens
The conflict between the Tales of Berseria characters and the Abbey is essentially a fight between chaotic, messy freedom and cold, calculated order. Eleanor Hume serves as the bridge here. She starts as a devoted Praetor of the Abbey, believing she’s on the side of justice. Her journey into Velvet’s party is the most traditional "hero’s journey" in the game. She has to unlearn everything. She has to accept that the "evil" Daemons she was taught to hate are more human than the "holy" Malaks she serves. Her internal conflict provides the necessary friction that keeps the party’s dynamic from feeling too one-note.
Combat Synergies and Personality
In Berseria, the way characters play actually reflects who they are. Velvet is a relentless bruiser. You don't play her defensively; you mash through her combos, staying in her "Therionized" state as long as possible, draining your own life to keep the pressure on. It’s reckless. It’s desperate. It’s Velvet.
Contrast that with Eizen. His "Flash Warp" soul break requires enemies to be downed or stunned. He’s a punisher. He waits for an opening and then hits like a freighter. Magilou’s "Spell Absorber" is the ultimate middle finger to casters. She literally eats their magic and spits it back at them. It’s disrespectful, which is exactly how she approaches every fight.
Why We Care About a Bunch of Misfits
The game spends an inordinate amount of time on "Skits." These are optional conversations that pop up while you’re exploring. While some JRPGs use these for world-building, Berseria uses them to show the mundane side of being a fugitive. You’ll see them argue about how to cook a specific fish, or Eizen getting way too excited about a rare coin, or Eleanor trying to teach Laphicet how to properly fold laundry.
These moments are the glue. Without them, the game would be a grimdark slog. With them, you realize these people don't just tolerate each other—they love each other, in their own broken, dysfunctional way. They are a "family" not because they share a goal, but because they are the only ones who can see each other's scars without flinching.
🔗 Read more: FC 26 Web App: How to Master the Market Before the Game Even Launches
What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
There’s a common misconception that Berseria is a tragedy where nobody wins. That’s not quite right. It’s an ending about agency. Velvet spends the whole game being driven by her past. In the end, she makes a choice for the future—not just for herself, but for Laphicet.
The relationship between Velvet and the younger Laphicet is the soul of the narrative. He isn't a replacement for her dead brother. He’s his own person. Velvet’s ultimate sacrifice (or "sealing," depending on how you view it) is her first truly selfless act since the start of the game. She chooses to become the eternal battery for the world's balance so that Laphicet can live in a world where humans are allowed to be messy, emotional, and flawed.
Actionable Takeaways for Your Next Playthrough
If you’re diving back into the game or picking it up for the first time, keep these specific tips in mind to get the most out of the cast:
- Don't ignore the Skits. Seriously. Even if you aren't a "lore" person, the skits are where the character development actually happens. If you skip them, the characters will feel like tropes. If you watch them, they feel like people.
- Rotate your party lead. Don't just play as Velvet. Playing as Magilou or Eizen completely changes how you approach the combat system and makes the "The Abbey is the enemy" vibe feel more personal from different perspectives.
- Focus on the "Creed." Pay attention to the word "Creed" when Eizen and Rokurou talk. It’s the central theme of the game. It’s not about doing what’s right; it’s about doing what you’ve decided is right for you.
- Check the gear names. The equipment often has flavor text or names that reference the characters' backstories or the lore of Tales of Zestiria (which takes place 1,000 years after this game).
- Experiment with Switch Blasts. Using the "Switch Blast" mechanic isn't just for tactical advantage; it triggers unique voice lines between specific characters that show how their relationships are evolving.
Tales of Berseria isn't a game about saving the world. It’s a game about a girl who got screwed over by the world and decided to hit back. The fact that she found five other weirdos to help her do it is what makes it a masterpiece.
To maximize your experience with the cast, try focusing on Eizen’s side quests regarding his pirate crew. These missions provide deep context for his "Reaper’s Curse" and offer some of the best writing in the game regarding the burden of leadership and the price of loyalty. Additionally, make sure to complete the "Class 4 Administrative Zones" (the arenas) using different characters; the unique victory quotes often reveal subtle nuances in how the party members view one another's combat prowess and growth.