The castle and town of Troia (or Toroia, for those who played it on SNES in the 1990s) has always fascinated me. The nation is governed by women. Its leaders and warriors are all female. Both the town and castle are marked by their greenery and water. It’s lush and peaceful. The music of each castle in Final Fantasy IV reflects the character of its nation; the imperious Baron, the warrior-minded Fabul, the sadness of destroyed Damcyan. Troia’s music reflects peace and contentment.
Playing it as a kid, I was always impressed and intimidated by the order and symmetry of the castle, especially compared to the mish-mash style of the other castles. Troia is swarming with female warriors, but it is also the only castle that has frogs in the water, a seemingly insignificant but nice touch that makes the castle appear friendlier. There is a soldier inside who confesses that Troia has never been in a war before, but the impression given through exploring the town and castle is that Troia is a powerful nation that jealously guards her power. I always imagined that their military might is such that they wish to avoid war for fear of unleashing it, in the same way martial artists swear that the best way to win a fight is to avoid getting in one in the first place – a line of thinking I never understood as a child.
In furiously Googling conducting research for this piece, I came across some familiar scenes from Troia. Considering Troia is female-run, it surprised me as a kid (and more surprising now) that the town is also home to a pretty robust prostitution racket. I’m sure there is an argument in here somewhere about the politics of sex and who has the upper hand, but I would have expected that in a matriarchal nation like Troia, prostitution wouldn’t feature so prominently. In the North American version of Final Fantasy IV, a lot of the text in the Troia was modified to try to present something other than what was going on (click here for an in-depth look at what was changed). Instead of a “pub” for example, they changed one location to a “Cafe.” Some of the lines that the patrons speak are completely re-written, making the whole visit awkward at times. Still, it wasn’t too difficult to decode that something scandalous was going on – even as a 12-year-old kid.
The video below is from the “pub” in Troia, in which you have to purchase a special – and expensive – pass to gain access. It’s a strange departure in the game. Once you talk to the guy at the desk you get sucked into a performance that looks like a kind of cabaret show. There’s a creepy feel of being at a nightclub in the middle of the afternoon, with only one other patron in the audience and the normal, calm village music softly playing in the background until the show begins. During the show, Cecil gets pulled into one of the chairs and is surrounded by the dancing girls. It’s an old game with basic graphics, so you have to use your imagination as to what’s going on. I’ve always been haunted by the way Cecil dips his head after he is pushed into the chair. He looks ashamed, and he holds it until all the girls leave, one by one and the town music fades back in.
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Carrying the Gun 