"If there's a secret sauce in For Honor, it's that the game happens in your body more than it happens in your mind."

No one speaks more eloquently or more passionately about Ubisoft's inventive reboot of fighting games than its creator, Jason VandenBerghe. No one should. The Feb. 14 release marks the end of a 15-year "odyssey" -- as he puts it -- to get this game made.

It all started with a wooden sword.

"I took a course in German longsword," he said. "[It's] this rediscovered martial art; we figured out how the knights used the longsword. And it's really cool!"

VandenBerghe had been studying at his local San Francisco dojo for a year when, on the way home one day, he was struck by an idea: wouldn't it be fun to play a game that translates sword-fighting to the controller on a visceral level?

"I was so impressed by the style [of German longsword] -- it was so simple, so clear, so elegant. I thought, 'What would happen if we took these stances and we put them on the right thumbstick?"

With that, an odd scene suddenly played out on the streets of San Francisco. VandenBerghe -- a large, big-bearded man with a wooden sword strapped to his back -- started fiddling with an imaginary controller. He was mapping out how his virtual swordplay could work.

"I imagine it was quite a sight," he said, chuckling.

There are plenty of video games that feature sword-fighting, but this idea had a specific goal: VandenBerghe wanted a game that would capture the "emotions of combat." Something you feel rather than think about.

While he carried the pitch around for a decade and a half, the beginnings of For Honorare rooted in a more distant past. It all goes back to an early fascination with swords and swordplay.

"When I was 16, I was the guy who was doing summer work at the [Renaissance faire]. That's me. I did that crap," he said.

Long before VandenBerghe left his German longsword class with the kernel of For Honorin his head, he knew what it was like to put on a helmet and swing a sword at another human. And he knew how thrilling it could be.

"I wanted a game that felt the way I feel when I pick up a weapon," he said.

He knew from his long obsession with armed combat -- which fueled his interest in video games -- that there was no game scratching that itch for him. In fact, most of those that touched on his favorite subject matter did the opposite.

"[They] were all really cerebral," he said. "It was all: observe and memorize. I didn't want that."

"I wanted to be on the battlefield and feel that lizard brain activate. Feel the sense of survival, fight-or-flight... I wanted that."

He speaks with such passion about the idea now that it's hard to imagine him spending 15 years trying -- and failing -- to sell it. But that's exactly what happened.

For starters, it was an unusual concept. This was before the days of Dark Soulsand other technically demanding melee combat games. Most publishers didn't see a road to success in the notion of a melee combat game with a script-flipping control scheme.

VandenBerghe's approach could also have been better. It took him a number of years before he figured out how to pitch his idea, which was less a game and more a notion of reinvented game mechanics.

"When I was starting to pitch it, I started out with 'I have this really great idea for a new control scheme that would make melee combat feel way better.' And people were like," -- he made a loud snoring noise here -- "'I fell asleep on the second word of your sentence there, kid.'"

So for 10 years, it was a long parade of "no" responses. The idea didn't fly. There wasn't an audience that publishers could see and the pitch's nerdy roots -- not a game, but gameplay-- was an ineffective sales pitch.

Everything changed when VandenBerghe, working as a narrative director on Far Cry 3, went out to lunch with Yannis Mallat, the head honcho at Ubisoft Montreal.

Mallet asked: "What do you reallywant to do?"

"So I told him," VandenBerghe said. "And he said, 'Hmmm. No, but I've got somebody I want you to meet."

That someone was Stephane Cardin, a Ubisoft producer who would go on to become a key figure in For Honor's development. Cardin worked with the team that produced Ubi's Prince of Persiaand Narutogames -- they had a lot of experience working with melee combat.

"I pitched it to them and they said yes," VandenBerghe said. "So now, five years later, here we are."

It's not quite that simple, however. There was no For Honoryet in 2012; simply an idea for a control scheme. VandenBerghe, Cardin, and their team were really into it, but no one could agree on what to build on top of it.

"We had all these discussions on the team. And of course, these open forum discussions -- because that's how you do it -- it was always people arguing," VandenBerghe explained.

Factions formed. Some wanted a game about knights in armor. Others felt the swordplay would work better with viking warriors. A third group was convinced that the simple elegance of samurai swordplay would work best.

Everyone felt very strongly about their chosen warrior, to the point that some threatened to leave the project if they didn't get their way. After a few weeks of this, VandenBerghe turned to Cardin one day with a ballsy suggestion.

"Hey Steph," he said. "How about we do knights, vikings, andsamurai?"

Cardin looked at his creative partner and paused to think. "I kinda love that," he said.

"Me too! Why hasn't anyone done that?"

"I don't know. Let's do it."

"OK."

And thatis where the game we now know as For Honor-- which tosses knights, vikings, and samurai into an epic, not-at-all-based-in-reality war -- was born.

VandenBerghe's enthusiasm is downright infectious. Hearing him talk about it -- his deep, booming voice brimming with excitement as he prepares to unleash this thing he's carted around for 15 years -- you can't help but get caught up. You're excited forhim.

"I have never been more present in a creative endeavor," he said, beaming.

He mentions the thrill of watching people fall into the game during playtests, on the eve of For Honor's release. These total strangers pick up the controller and, as they start messing with his baby, VandenBerghe delights in seeing them get into it.

"I can hear from the words they're using that they've fallen into their own warrior. The part of their brain that knows how that works, that has been living inside of us for our whole lives, has woken up and suddenly it's speaking," he said.

"I love that."