Throne and Liberty is a checklist simulator

The more I play Throne and Liberty, the more it feels like I’m trapped in a checklist simulator. Sure, the checklist(s) are long and varied, but a long checklist is still a checklist—and that doesn’t scream “fun” to me.

When I log in, the first order of business is teleporting to Stonegard Castle to do what every Throne and Liberty player loves most: shopping. Not for gear or anything exciting—just my daily/weekly ration of time-gated items. Cooking supplies? Check. Daily materials? Check. Mystic keys? Check. Thrilling stuff.

Since everything in this game revolves around contract coins, my next task is to knock out the daily contracts. There’s a faint whiff of strategy here—optimizing which contracts can be done the fastest—but let’s not pretend it’s exciting. It’s just a checklist within the daily checklist.

Next up? The daily dungeon runs. I burn through my dungeon currency, loot the rewards, and, when the currency’s gone, move on to other tasks. Because why enjoy exploring a dungeon when the game can cut you off once you hit your quota?

At this point, I’ll pull up the event schedule and start planning my life around the game. Is a world boss happening? Maybe a dynamic event? Oh, wait—I missed it because I dared to have a life outside the game. Too bad, no random low chance at loot for me.

When there’s no event to crash, it’s back to the grind in open-world dungeons, where I chip away at another time-gated currency. Of course, I’m not just grinding aimlessly—I’ve got more checklists for that! Open-world dungeon contracts bought earlier? Time to tick those boxes.

Somewhere in all this, I remember my guild contracts. Gotta kill the right enemy types in the right locations because if we don’t finish the guild contracts, the guild rewards vanish into the void. And while I’m in the guild menu, let’s not forget my mandatory time-gated guild donations! The sooner I check that off, the sooner I can donate more, because donating isn’t about generosity—it’s about efficiency.

Oh, and the weekly missions. Can’t forget those. Grit your teeth, win three PvP arena matches, and pray your teammates don’t expect competence from you because you’re just here to get it over with.  Track down those mystic portals, complete events, spend currency.  Don't forget to check off collecting your random reward for the weekly missions.

Somewhere along the way, I remember the battle pass. Yep, another checklist! This one even has me setting my “world tree leaf” to 90% so my amitoi can heal me when I don’t need it. Why? Because the battle pass demands it. Resistance is futile.

Speaking of my amitoi I need to remember to teleport to my amitoi house and send them on their next mission.  Then set a reminder to come back a do that again at the allotted time I set (1,2,4, or 8 hours).

Notice a pattern here? Almost nothing I’ve described is something I wanted to do. It’s all dictated by the game’s endless checklists, none of which care if I’m enjoying myself. Sure, I might want to do some of these things—but I’m doing them because I have to, not because I want to.

And when the checklists run dry? Might as well log out. The PvP is awful, the event schedule is rigid, and the PvE is fine, I guess. But without those rewards dangling at the end of a task, there’s little reason to stick around.

Some folks argue that “it takes forever to run out of things to do,” and fine, I’ll give them that. But that’s not the point. The problem is the compulsion. I’m not playing because I’m having fun—I’m playing because the game demands it. My personal enjoyment rarely aligns with the game’s busywork, and that’s why Throne and Liberty is wearing out its welcome.

Note: this post was edited with the help of AI. The thoughts are my own.  The grammatical correctness is the AI.