I can't accuse developer Spiders of not trying. Bound by Flame is an action-heavy role-playing game about choice, and it liberally borrows from the BioWare book of conversation tropes, presenting you with narrative decisions now and again that affect allegiances and spawn conflicts, most of which can be solved only through swordplay. Vulcan is an apt name for the game's central character. He (or she, if you choose a female avatar) is a member of a mercenary group called the Freeborn Blades, but in the midst of fighting to stave off an invasion of undead creatures called deadwalkers, he finds himself sharing his brain with a growling demon. Vulcan's mind becomes rather overcrowded as a result, but at least the demon grants him the ability to conjure fire, bringing sense to his mythology-inspired moniker.
Bound by Flame's most intriguing choices are those that see Vulcan deciding whether to bend to the demon's whim or assert his individuality, and the more you side with the demon's advice, the more you take on stereotypical demonic traits. The Fable series allows for a similar metamorphosis, but the changes are even more ferocious in Bound by Flame's grim fantasy world. As I faced the final battle, a scrawl of reddish runes had been etched into my blackened chest, from which flames poured out; I had not one, but three sets of curled horns growing from my head; and my voice had taken on a diabolical rumble as the two competing identities became further intertwined.
The consequences of your decisions aren't just cosmetic: growing horns means you can't wear helmets and thus reap their defensive benefits, but you do gain enhanced magic power regeneration by way of compensation. There are other trade-offs, as well, but mutating into a fiery fiend was such a delectable experience that I never regretted taking that path in spite of my usual goody-two-shoes proclivities. To be sure, there are choices to make in Bound by Flame's story that have nothing to do with the demon within, but narrative choices are most effective when you're invested in the potential consequences, and the game's poor dialogue and characterizations aren't apt to make you care about anyone's fate but your own.
Take, for instance, the scholar called Sybil, who might need to cope with great loss depending on a decision you make early in the game. The inexpressive writing and voice acting keep Sybil's story from tugging at your emotions, and when you take her to collect three books later on, her ability to relate information immediately, without having to actually read those books, is dumb. Characters are introduced one after another, and many of them are available as battle companions, though you can only invite one to your adventure at any given time. The roster includes a sharp-tongued mage, a prim-and-proper zombie type, and a suicidal knight. They have tales to tell if you ask them, but hearing their stories is like hearing someone recite