Author: Andrew Logue

  • The Myst and Riven remakes are glorious nostalgia trips for only the most patient gamers.

    The Myst and Riven remakes are glorious nostalgia trips for only the most patient gamers.

    As retro-inspired games have moved on from the sumptuous pixel-art of the early ‘90s to the chunky but evocative 3D visuals of the late ’90s, I often feel better suited to critique them having played their inspirations at the time and on original hardware. In contrast, the gorgeous remakes of Myst and Riven are based on PC titles I knew about but never actually played until picking them up GOG more than a decade late. I was too busy playing PC titles like Command & Conquer, Duke Nukem, Baldur’s Gate, and Unreal Tournament to consider slower-paced puzzle games.

    Playing the remakes of Myst (1993) and Riven (1997) in 2026 (while swapping back to the classic versions for comparison), I wish I’d never let them pass me by. Despite the updated visuals and overhauled puzzles in Riven, they remain games from a time when we weren’t bombarded with news about the next best thing the moment the previous best thing released. They are most rewarding when you explore them at a leisurely pace, notebook in hand, fully immersed in their bizarre worlds full of cryptic puzzles.

    All of which is a roundabout way of saying the Myst and Riven remakes are difficult to recommend these days to those without a strong nostalgic hook, a lot of patience, or a willingness to use guides on a first playthrough.

    That said, if they have piqued your interest, or if you’re looking to return the series as I did, you’ll want to start with Myst. It introduces a small cast and sets up the events of Riven but, more importantly, it serves as a gentler introduction to the gameplay loop and visual design language both games rely on.

    You play as a voiceless protagonist that fell into a cosmic rift only to discover a curious book titled “Myst” among the stars. Placing a hand on the page, you’re whisked way to the titular isle and the adventure begins. On a dock, with no fanfare, no HUD aside from a hand icon, and no journal with a quest log or structured list of notes and clues. If you want to know more, you need to push forward and figure it out yourself.

    It is a wonderful change from modern games with cutscenes that run on so long my TVs auto-dimming feature kicks in at the 10-minute mark.

    This also means that both Myst and Riven are 95% puzzle game, so direct storytelling is all but non-existent until the final minutes of the game. There are a handful of recordings and a few well-written journals that flesh out the nature of the “Ages” you explore, but both Myst and Riven are focused on a constant cycle of careful observation, noting down clues, prodding and poking mechanisms, seeing what happens, and trying to reach some “Aha!” moment as it either falls into place and brute force pays off.

    Riven is the better game but Myst feels a little better structured for newcomers and sticks closely to the original (to the point you can use a walkthrough from 1993). You stumble around the titular “Age” until you solve one or two puzzles to gain access to a new Age – realms written into existence by some initially unknown figure – in which you solve several self-contained puzzles, then return to the island with new knowledge to solve another puzzle that leads into yet another Age.

    In contrast, Riven takes place almost entirely in the titular Age, but you move back and forth across several islands using monorails or dimensional rifts. For both new and returning players, most puzzles have been reworked and there is a new tool to highlight clues and bypass a few puzzles that were unforgivingly exacting.

    However, each island feels less self-contained and it is easier to end up wandering around aimlessly, noting down random clues and taking screenshots that you might only use much later. It blows my mind that anyone in 1997 had the patience to go through the same experience by manually clicking through screen after screen of prerendered backdrops or video transitions.

    To both Myst and Riven’s credit, every puzzle feels unique even if they are seriously cryptic by modern standards. You sift through notes for clues on how to activate machinery using the correct steps, switches, symbols, or values. You link star constellations to dates in an observatory; transfer water through a convoluted piping system; link background sounds to directions to navigate a maze; tweak the colour and apertures of lenses; match symbols hidden in the environment to totems; and decipher a counting system in a fictional language.

    There is a lot of satisfaction to had solving puzzles compared to many modern games that seem to actively mock your intelligence. The downside is that these are not games to play if you’re tired– unless you’re actively looking to fall asleep on the couch or your desk chair.

    On that note, it is worth noting the incredible effort it took to recreate prerendered backdrops perfectly in a modern 3D game engine is not complemented by modern accessibility settings. Both Myst and Riven look gorgeous, with incredible soundscapes that do just as much to create an atmosphere as the visuals. Gameplay is limited to moving around small areas, observing details, and interacting with puzzles, but it feels impressively immersive on a big screen, in the dark, with headphones on.

    On the whole, I’d argue the Myst and Riven remakes are essential experiences for modern puzzle-game fans curious about where many genre staples originated from. That said, many other remakes of classic puzzle games, notably Microids’ Amerzone – The Explorer’s Legacy and Syberia – Remastered, have put a ton of effort into creating expanded journals and optional, incremental hints to guide new or returning players towards puzzle solutions. Purists might argue we have access to thousands of guides at any given moment on our phones, tablets, and PCs, but I’d argue it was disappointing to pull myself out of these incredible game worlds when I needed a hint.

    The Myst and Riven remakes were played on PS5 using code provided by the publisher. They are also available on PC and Xbox Series S/X.

  • Review: Hollowbody (PS5/PS5 Pro)

    Review: Hollowbody (PS5/PS5 Pro)

    I can’t fault Hollowbody for being authentic to the era it emulates – from the visuals and atmosphere to the controls, puzzles, and combat – but it never feels as cohesive as the classics. It has a strong start, an overlong and boring middle section, and solid finale if you’re fine with gimmicky boss fights. There were times I could believe it was a lesser-known and underappreciated Silent Hill clone from the early 2000s, but other times it felt a little aimless and lacking a clear vision.

    The impact of the visuals and atmosphere cannot be understated. Hollowbody looks, sounds, and feels like a PS2 survival-horror title around the time developers were transitioning to fully 3D environments. Semi-fixed camera angles, wonky movement and combat, mist-shrouded streets, gloomy maze-like interiors, the limited use of music with a focus on ambience – it was only the high-quality voice work that felt out of place.

    Hollowbody first places you in the boots of Sasha – a member of some sort of UN observation team – as she traverses a grey and desolate British coastline. Searching for a lost colleague, she descends into a dark cave system only to stumble upon a mysterious pit overgown with organic material and her seemingly deranged companion. Jump forward 12 days and you take control of Mica, a black-market smuggler now looking for a way into an exclusion zone to find her partner who disappeared at the end of the intro sequence.

    The British sci-fi setting is refreshing and the premise intriguing. You have a dystopian near-future dealing with extensive urban decay; the promise of urban regeneration from a charitable organisation with questionable intents; a biological disaster that left entire cities walled off; and a rushed government coverup to minimise accountability.

    All the basics are there but, aside from one NPC and some scattered documents, the only significant narrative beats are the lengthy opening cutscene and an ending that strings together up to four fade-to-black, cliffhanger-style scenes. I guess it’s a love-story at heart, but every other element felt disjointed or dependent on secret documents that demand a ton of backtracking to uncover. Denying the player key information and leaving them confused can be deliberate and effective in horror games but in Hollowbody it simply feels like some sequences were just less developed than others.

    As an example, an early trawl through an abandoned apartment block felt perfectly paced. A distorted voice taunts Mica over old landlines (that double up as manual save points); environmental details and scattered notes reveal the desperation of those living there; you get your first taste of the twisted monsters that stalk the quarantine zone; and an encounter on the roof that marks a divergence point that will  see you go on alone or with a companion that’ll drip-feed a few more details and trigger a different ending.

    When it comes to gameplay, you have puzzles and combat that also follow the classic formula. You hunt for actual keys or key-like items to progress, sometimes manually inspecting or combining objects to progress. The puzzles are self-contained and logical (outside of one elaborate secret) but get satisfyingly weirder as you push forward. Standing in your way are monsters that you’re never forced to fight, but dodging their shambling attacks can be difficult in tight spaces or when changing camera angles sabotage your movement.

    If you resort to combat, ammunition is scarce enough that you’ll want to save it for bigger or faster-moving creatures. As a result, much of the game is spent baiting attacks, backpedalling, then laying in with an assortment of equally useless melee weapons with inconsistent hitboxes.

    Fans of classic survival-horror might think this sounds par for the course and, yes, you are the target audience. However, Hollowbody relies too heavily on monster gauntlets and backtracking during a bland middle section, consisting of streets, parks, and sewers that connect the apartment block opening with the train station finale. The environments blur together, there’s little narrative momentum, puzzles feel simpler, and there far too many enemies roaming around aimlessly. Hollowbody may not be particularly long at 4-ish hours for a first playthrough, but if the opening and closing hours feel like excellent homages to classic games, the entire middle sequence is uninspired filler.

    It is worth pointing out that Hollowbody has options to reduce the enemy count and switch to a third-person camera system that works alright in outdoor areas. It also has a secret dog ending; an elaborate hunt for data disks to unlock lore; and some other familiar modes like enabling a big-head or playing from the first-person (which is worth messing around with in interiors to better appreciate the details in the environment).

    Now I’ve come across as more negative than intended, especially considering Hollowbody is a budget-priced indie game, so it’s worth reiterating it serves as an impressive nostalgia trip for those after classic vibes. The problem is that while game length is an eternal debate, after one and a half playthroughs, I feel Hollowbody would have been better off taking the Resident Evil 2 approach; offering an even shorter and less padded playthrough with the focus instead on pathing and puzzle variations between runs as you unlock new endings.

    Pros:

    • It captures the look and feel of early 2000s survival-horror games on the PS2.
    • Increasingly weird yet logical puzzles.
    • A novel setting, smart writing, and great voice work.
    • Limited music but excellent use of unsettling ambience.

    Cons:

    • Clunky combat and clunkier camera controls.
    • The middle section of the game is heavy on backtracking and monster gauntlets.
    • A gimmicky final boss battle.

    Score: 7/10

    Hollowbody was reviewed on PS5 using a code provided by the publisher. It is also available on PC and Xbox Series S|X.

  • Editorial: Total Chaos offers a rough but compelling psychological horror experience on the Nintendo Switch 2.

    Editorial: Total Chaos offers a rough but compelling psychological horror experience on the Nintendo Switch 2.

    Like so many third-party ports for the Nintendo Switch 2, it’s impossible to recommend Total Chaos without mentioning some caveats – unless, of course, portability is essential or you have no other console under the TV. That said, while Total Chaos has noticeable framerate dips and degraded visuals in the performance mode, it offers a rough but compelling psychological horror experience that is rare on Nintendo hardware. It’s also easier to appreciate if you consider it started life as an ambitious DOOM II conversion using GZDoom, before transitioning to the now ubiquitous Unreal Engine as a standlone game.

    Through nine lengthy chapters, the slow-burn opening sees Total Chaos evolve from a run-and-hide puzzler into a more traditional Silent Hill-inspired psychological horror – albeit entirely in first-person.

    Total Chaos Nintendo Switch 2 Story

    The tense and appropriately chaotic opening chapter might leave you confused about the genre, but you’ll quickly settle into a rhythm of inventory management, scavenging and crafting supplies, juggling melee weapons with limited durability, and rationing the use of firearms with severely limited ammunition. If nothing else, Total Chaos nails edge-of-your-seat combat design. It’s a game in which you only ever have enough resources to scrape through the next encounter before desperately scavenging for more.

    It can be a brutal game so there are difficulty settings and a “Tourist” mode that starts you off with gear. However, if you’re a fan of the genre, I would suggest sticking to the original experience in which you’re only ever just ahead of the difficulty curve. There are puzzles and switch hunts under pressure, stalker sequences, and a few run-like-hell set-pieces, but most of the game is about managing consumables and picking the right sharpened tools for the job.

    Total Chaos Nintendo Switch 2 Shadow Puzzle

    Basic enemies fall with a well-timed dodge or shove, followed by a flurry of attacks, but more complex encounters are gradually introduced. Skulking spider-like creatures blind you with web spit before rushing in; lumbering split-headed creatures grab you if you don’t first choke them with a thrown item; teleporting electrified creatures are set aflame with a well-aimed bottle of alcohol; and a screeching enemy forces you to look away to minimise damage mid-attack. Stalker encounters and boss fights might force you to stay mobile, sprint between crawl spaces, keep your eyes on a creature to avoid one-hit-kills, or use environmental hazards to damage them.

    There are also survival elements like stamina, health, bleeding, hunger, and madness to manage, so crafting is not just about taping blades or nails to sticks. You need to find healing sources (some of which might be less than sanitary), scrounge food to manage hunger and boost stamina, combine alcohol and rags for bandages, and there are even mysterious coloured compounds you can blend, Resident Evil-style, in your old syringes. Even with a generous weight limit, you eventually need to make choices about what to take with you and what drop near a save point to collect later.

    Total Chaos Nintendo Switch 2 Prison

    As an indie title and former mod, I am not going to pretend the gameplay mechanics are the most polished, but they are engaging and involved. What I didn’t expect was that the unravelling narrative would be the biggest hook; that and a morbid curiosity about just how much more challenging it could get.

    The nameless protagonist – possibly a member of the coastguard – arrives at the derelict Port Oasis after surviving a bizarre storm. Entering the looming port structure through a sewer drain, a scrawled note on the wall indicates there is no turning back – your last chance to backtrack to the boat and leave. Push forward and you’ve committed to a lengthy gauntlet through increasingly twisted environments and the creatures that haunt them.

    To Total Chaos’ credit, it plays its cards openly and it’s clear from the start on that whatever the protagonist is experiencing must have something to do with their past on the island.

    Total Chaos Nintendo Switch 2 Inventory

    Games can ruin the experience by revealing too much too soon, but Total Chaos drip-feeds its narrative beats and scattered documents with just the right pacing so that I was always left wanting to know more. What was the nature of the community at Port Oasis? Who does the voice on the radio represent and should you follow their advice? What happened during his last relationship that it left him literally haunted by manifestations of the trauma?

    Like all good psychological horror games, there’s a link between the narrative themes, the environments, and some of the creatures you encounter. Much of the basic gameplay loop involves monster ambushes and key hunts, but those moments are interspersed with set-pieces and boss-like encounters that clearly represent elements of trauma through the distorted visuals, creepy audio, tortured dialogue, and sparse but excellent music.

    Total Chaos Nintendo Switch 2 Melee Combat

    Even numerous underground sequences that ran on too long for my tastes proved effective at generating an incredibly oppressive atmosphere (often due to a lack of light sources) which triggered moments of relief when I finally emerged back above ground into the dim grey light and increasingly stormy weather.

    Of course, as with the gameplay mechanics, the indie nature of Total Chaos means you can’t go in expecting cinematic production values, just really effective use of the resources it had. My one critique is that some actions needed to get the alternate ending are obvious while others are so random you might want to use a guide if you only play through games once.

    On the whole, Total Chaos is an impressive conversion of a well-regarded mod into a standalone indie game – something I’d love to see more off given the long and often impressive history of total conversions mods. On Nintendo Switch 2, I’d recommend it to survival- and psychological horror fans but just be cognisant of its limitations and the compromised performance mode going in.

    Total Chaos was played on Nintendo Switch 2 using a code provided by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, and PS5/Pro.

  • Review: Regions of Ruin: Runegate (Steam Deck)

    Review: Regions of Ruin: Runegate (Steam Deck)

    Regions of Ruin was a compelling mash-up of genres when it released on PC in 2018. It offered Kingdoms-style settlement-building with gorgeous pixel-art; bite-sized, side-scrolling action paired with surprisingly dense RPG mechanics; and indomitable dwarves fighting back against an overwhelming horde of savage goblins and orcs. It also had a great soundtrack (suspiciously similar to that of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim) that perfectly complemented the action as you carved a bloody path across the continent on a barely signposted quest to uncover a path to an ancient Dwarven sanctuary beneath the surface.

    Eight years on, it now feels like an experimental, early-access version of Regions of Ruin: Runegate; a fully-fledged sequel that builds upon the scant narrative the first game offered, while delivering improved visuals, more varied combat with better balancing, quests with extensive narrative, expanded settlement-building, and refined RPG mechanics. You may prefer the classic visual style, but every other element of the game is hugely improved.

    That said, the fundamentals stay the same. Regions of Ruin: Runegate is designed for short but more-ish play sessions that have you bouncing between diverse but compact 2D zones – very few of which will take more than five minutes to battle, puzzle, or platform through.

    You take on quests to aid locals and rescue dwarves; you cull greenskins and other threats that plague each realm; you smash through creates and loot chests for resources and gear; and you frequently return to Rivenbrook – a long-abandoned settlement connected to other realms by the titular Runegate. Unlike the first game, you have a more functional journal to track quests and there is a ton of narrative and world-building for those who want to know more about each realm and the history of the Dwarves.

    It offers a satisfying gameplay loop in which you briefly visit settlements or outposts to chat to the diverse inhabitants and pick up quests, travel across a stylish world map as the day-night cycle rolls on, and enter hostile areas populated by man or beast – all waiting to taste your axe (or sword, spear, knife, crossbow, and firearm) in chaotic battles full of pixelated gore and gruesome sprite death animations. Unlike the first game, combat feels challenging but better balanced to support all weapon types. Going stealthy and flinging throwing axes at unaware enemies is no longer the only viable option when dealing with endgame hordes.

    Battles on a 2D plane are inherently limited in complexity, but each weapon type – think one hand, two handed, knife, and ranged – has an ideal range, attack speed, crowd-control potential, and varied effectiveness against armoured foes. There’s a focus on managing a stamina bar that depletes as you accumulate wounds in battle, and you’ll want to rack up bonus damage by either hitting enemies from stealth, from behind, while they’re stunned, or knocked down. There is still plenty of jumping, dashing, and slashing during busy battles, but it feels more tactical once you’ve recruited and trained up some companions to draw attention away from you.

    As an RPG, there’s still a strong of focus on character levelling, equipping powerful gear, and rebuilding the Rivenbrook settlement to generate resources and gold, attract shopkeepers and companions, and open up crafting and enchanting stations. Unlike the first game, in which survival in larger battles could feel random, Regions of Ruin: Runegate does a better job of balancing escalating difficulty with character progression. By default, those who don’t rush the main quest will have ample opportunity to fill out an expansive skill tree with essential perks and incremental upgrades, while also looting, buying, or crafting powerful gear to tailor their build. It is a game in which you always feel like you’re on a trajectory towards becoming overpowered and self-sufficient.

    By the midpoint of my journey, tearing a path through the arid second realm, I had invested in restoring Rivenbrook’s fishing dock, lumber mill, and mine to ensure an infinite supply of basic materials for further upgrades, crafting, and enchanting. I invested broadly across the skill tree rather than hyperspecializing, with my focus on stacking every damage-over-time perk – poison and bleeding – with weapons that had a high chance to inflict burning status. I also spent a considerable amount of gold and a few skill points to level up my companions – ensuring they could tank some blows and even slowly self-revive while I led away enemies.

    Those who tackle everything on offer will find the challenge gradually diminishes, but at least Regions of Ruin: Runegate never feels like it is wasting your time. Restoring and upgrading resource-generating buildings in Rivenbrook means less time spent juggling workers. Merchant stalls, an armoury, and forges means less reliance on loot drops. Companions draw aggro and allow you to tackle encounters with more aggression or creativity. It’s an adventure the feels like starting as a minor rockfall before escalating into an avalanche of Dwarven rage.

    I played it exclusively on a Steam Deck and it was a fantastic fit for both the gameplay loop and visual style. The pixel-art looks great, especially when sunlight or moonlight filters through trees and rocky outcrops, and it hit 60fps most of the time (a fully upgraded Rivenbrook and battles with abundant fire effects dragging it down somewhat). It should run well on any more recent handheld PC and I hope a Nintendo Switch 2 port is next in line.

    The only two caveats I can think of is there is a little too much text to read through at times (especially on a small screen), and binging Regions of Ruin: Runegate is the quickest way to highlight its limited depth and repetitive nature. So long as you’re treating it as a pick-up-and-play game when short on time or between other games, Regions of Ruin: Runegate offers a fantastic 2D action-RPG with few flaws. It moves at a brisk pace, never wastes your time, and turn you into an unstoppable force of Dwarven vengeance leaving bloodied chunks of your enemies scattered across the realms.

    Pros:

    • An actual narrative and better-defined quests.
    • A brisk and immensely satisfying gameplay loop of escalating carnage.
    • Settlement building is even more satisfying and allows you to become self-reliant.
    • Improved pixel-art visuals, sprite animations, and another great soundtrack.
    • A perfect fit for the Steam Deck and other handheld PCs.

    Cons:

    • Longer play sessions highlight its repetitive nature.

    Score: 9/10

    Regions of Ruin: Runegate was reviewed on PC (Steam Deck) using a code provided by the publisher.

  • Editorial: Dread Delusion offers console players a weird and wonderful mini-RPG with Morrowind vibes.

    Editorial: Dread Delusion offers console players a weird and wonderful mini-RPG with Morrowind vibes.

    Dread Delusion is both a compact nostalgia-trip for time-constrained older gamers, and a means for younger gamers to get a taste of early, first-person, fully-3D RPGs like The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind.

    Despite its obvious retro inspirations, it’s smartly designed and “fun enough” by modern standards but what is does best is evoke classic vibes and encourage exploration. Like Morrowind, Dread Delusion’s best attribute is not the gameplay but the distinctly otherworldly setting, the intriguing lore, and the striking aesthetics. It has a unique atmosphere that elevates the experience, even if the storytelling is simple and the gameplay loop straddles the line between charmingly dated and perfunctory.

    Not high praise for those who exclusively play “AAA” games and value cinematic storytelling or ultra-polished gameplay, but Dread Delusion knows what it wants to be and does so with confidence. It has a compact structure, varied but streamlined mechanics, and frugal dialogue trees that ensure it avoids making the mistake so many modern games do – wasting the player’s time and dragging out the experience to the point even the best qualities are rendered repetitive and tiresome.

    Dread Delusion doesn’t offer huge depth in the moment-to-moment gameplay, so you only spend only a minute customising your prisoner-protagonist before being introduced to the primary quest by way of an Inquisitor agent, trapped within an iron maiden-style cage, bleeding between raspy breaths. You’re then tossed out onto the floating Oneiric Isles to begin your adventure with minimal fanfare. It feels brisk, a little messy, but the opening sequence is devoid of exposition dumps or the overlong cutscenes so common these days I’ve had to change my TVs power-saving settings.

    A massive fort looms above of you. Inquisition machines clank and groan around you. Jagged islands of rock, strung together by precarious bridges, float above a ruined and charred planet below. Tree-sized mushrooms and bizarre fungal shrubs – typically in shades of vibrant green, blue, and pink – stand in stark contrast against the reddish-purple sky with its pulsing “neuron star” connected to others by glowing threads of energy. The excellent music kicks in and it all felt incredibly weird and wondrous in a way I’ve not experienced in a big budget sci-fi or fantasy games for ages.

    When you factor in the lack screen-filling tutorials and condescending secondary character to sprout advice, the opening sequence also places the onus firmly on the player to push forward, explore, and experiment if they want to know more.

    Of course, Dread Delusion offers up a lengthy quest involving the hunt for a Navy-captain-turned-sky-pirate Vela Callose that will take you across the Isles and to the ruined world below. You’ll learn about the “God Wars” and the rise of Apostolic Union, the ancient Emberian civilisation and the devastating “World Rend” event, and you’ll meet the factions contesting the Oneiric Isles – but there’s so much more depth for those who explore, talk to every NPC, and read the stylish book extracts scattered around.

    The gameplay that ties everything together is fun, familiar, and streamlined – like a “best of” rewatch your favourite series where you have to foresight to skip the inessential episodes. You have light and heavy attacks paired with block and parries, all governed by stamina and strength. Offensive and defensive cypher spells require mana and high lore. You can charm NPCs in dialogue, pick locks and disarm traps, or manipulate magical objects to open alternate paths and secrets. There’s even a stealth system with bonus damage for thief-types that enjoy spending half their playtime crouching with a bow.

    Armour, clothing, and weapon variants are limited but offer impactful upgrades that consume increasingly rare materials. Rings and accessories are unique and buff specific attributes or skills. Alchemy allows you to brew useful and situational potions. You can purchase and upgrade housing in each island kingdom, unlocking temporary skill boosts, crafting stations, and gardens with alchemical ingredients. You eventually unlock an airship of your own to access new areas.

    Dread Delusion offers a little bit of every RPG staple for you to dabble in as you explore, just never with enough depth to derail your momentum and the narrative pacing.

    Despite these streamlined mechanics, Dread Delusion still prioritises role-playing and provides quest solutions that can shift your standing with different factions and affect the outcome of regions. Your dialogue choices have the most impact, but you can also avoid harming faction relations by simply sneaking through an area or unlocking alternate paths to bypass combat. The levelling system – in which you “embrace delusions” to increase attributes – consumes “glimmers of delusions” that are awarded on quest completion or found in secret areas. There’s rarely a good reason to choose a violent outcome if you don’t want to.

    There’s a fair argument that the minute-to-minute gameplay feels a little underdeveloped, but the impact on the experience is limited by Dread Delusion’s relative brevity for an RPG – maybe 20 or so hours to explore everywhere and do everything on your first playthrough. The focus remains on constant forward momentum and exploration while you resolve quests the way you want to. Dread Delusion never feels like it’s wasting your time getting bogged down by grindy gameplay systems or cinematic aspirations that impact the pacing.

    Going back to the Morrowind comparison, the Oneiric Isles are simply a joy to explore as every new region means new sights to see, new biomes and creatures, new people and quests, and more lore to discover. For console players, it offers a rare mini-RPG with incredible vibes and, as a bonus, runs well on every platform including the Nintendo Switch 2.

    Dread Delusion was played on a Nintendo Switch 2 using a code provided by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, and PS5.

  • Editorial: Caput Mortum is a short, sweet, and satisfying ride that’s all too rare these days.

    Editorial: Caput Mortum is a short, sweet, and satisfying ride that’s all too rare these days.

    Caput Mortum is a compact love letter to 1994’s King’s Field, albeit one taking a few cues from the more modern horror titles like Amnesia: The Dark Descent.

    It wastes no time dropping the player outside a crumbling 16th-century French tower once dedicated to alchemy; it seamlessly blends puzzle-solving and monster encounters with retro-inspired visuals (and an old-school control scheme for purists); and it delivers a briskly paced journey into the depths.

    Direct storytelling is limited so you’ll need to find scattered notes and environmental clues to reveal the alchemists’ experiments and their cruel attempts at creating new life. The protagonist’s motivations remain a mystery throughout but serve as an excuse for the player to witness the unfolding events.

    The late ‘90s inspired blocky 3D environments are impressive. Each floor of the tower feels visually distinct and atmospheric, is full of environmental storytelling details, and tension-building audio and short music loops are fantastic.

    What I enjoyed most though was the brisk pacing and compact length – both of which ensure ensured Caput Mortum never outstayed it’s welcome (and it’s appropriately priced too). I uncovered the fate of the alchemists, their creations, and the mysterious voice guiding the protagonist, then I walked away satisfied but also keen on a second playthrough to unlock additional notes without needing to invest dozens of hours.

    Gameplay is admittedly limited at first and focuses on deliberate movement and interacting with the world using a single hand. You use the mouse or thumbstick to manipulate puzzle items and keys, while wielding a small selection of weapons that double-up as tools. The controls are straightforward and intuitive, with guidance provided notes or visual cues.

    Combat is deliberately clunky but basic enemies are manageable, and the more dangerous ones you run from. You bait an enemy’s attack animation, then counter until it falls.

    Exploration and puzzle-solving, sometimes under threat, are the strengths of Caput Mortum. As you descend, you encounter progressively more complex puzzles, starting with simple key hunts before evolving into scanning for clue, matching patterns, and concocting alchemical compounds. Some early encounters require matching hand gestures to survive attacks, while brief sections have you navigating torchlit tunnels pursued by a stalker-type creature.

    There are some dated mechanics. Quickly switching between a free hand and weapon is annoying but rarely needed. Meanwhile the game claims it only saves when entering new tower levels, but I found autosaves occurred after major puzzle solutions and before you enter dangerous areas.

    Ultimately, Caput Mortum does everything I want from a short experimental indie title. A brisk but satisfying experience that gives you some bigger budget thrills with zero padding. In 2026, a game that’s short, well-paced, and offers a satisfying conclusion is rare enough to warrant praise despite a few flaws.

    Caput Mortum was played on Xbox Series S|X. It is also available on PC and PS5.

  • Dungeons of Dusk (PC) Preview – Old-school charm that needs to break free from some dated designs.

    Dungeons of Dusk (PC) Preview – Old-school charm that needs to break free from some dated designs.

    After two hours with Dungeons of Dusk, my immediate thoughts were, a) the combat loop is fantastic, and b) who shows off a new game with a sewer level? A three-part opening slog through sewers that felt like endless green-brown walls with dripping sounds and sparse ambient music. As first impressions go, I’d have picked another location or created a vertical slice of three different map themes but despite my misgivings, there is clearly potential on the gameplay front if developers 68k Studios would take some inspiration from more recent dungeon crawlers.

    Dungeons of Dusk Sewers

    For context, I never grew up playing ‘90s first-person dungeons crawlers like Eye of the Beholder, Lands of Lore, or Stone Keep. It was only later that I encountered games inspired by them – notably the Legend of Grimrock and Vaporum games – and began working backwards through my GOG library. Dungeons of Dusk, as much as I appreciate its adherence to some classic designs, should not be afraid to modernise elements to improve gameplay variety and pacing.

    Starting with the good, I enjoyed the hybrid turn-based combat. As an unashamed fan of grid-dancing combat, Dungeons of Dusks does an excellent job of turning that mechanic into a more thoughtful and deliberate experience. Your character moves exactly as you’d expect from the genre: forwards, backwards, or sidestepping, while you can swing your view around in 90° increments and look down at the floor. It is deliberately anachronistic but, like classic tank controls, I love it when a game is smartly designed around those limitations.

    Dungeons of Dusk Sergei Boss

    Once combat is triggered, every grid-movement or attack you make counts as a turn. Move a grid, attack, or use a consumable, and every engaged enemy will do so too. With a mix of melee and ranged weapons, melee and ranged enemy variants, and all movement or attacks restricted to the grid layout, it becomes a game of Dusk-themed chess. You’ve got to be aware of your immediate space; effective weapon and special attack ranges; status effects; consumable area-of-effect patterns; and potential hazards to avoid or exploit. No matter how visually messy combat becomes, you can always stop, swing your view around to assess the situation, and plan your next move.

    Simple but intuitive RPG-like mechanics service the combat. These include a currency for merchants, a weapon upgrade system that uses collected scrap, and a sprawling skill tree that offers incremental upgrades as you invest points after each level-up (which also incrementally boosts basic stats). Unfortunately, the rest of the experience feels comparably underdeveloped and is dragged down by a strict adherence to dated level design. Exploring every corner of a map was always a highlight in these games as you uncovered new gear and levelled the party, but it gets incredibly dull if all you have is the combat loop paired with monotonous visuals.

    Dungeons of Dusk Skill Tree

    Dungeons of Dusk has key- and switch-hunts, and it has a handful of secret wall panels or vents, but it lacks the density of many classic games. There’s little outside of the combat to break up long slogs back and forth through samey-looking corridors – all the more noticeable once you’ve cleared out an area. Legend of Grimrock and Vaporum offer more modern examples of how you can construct levels with more interesting and interconnected layouts, and they both demonstrate how you can turn them into secret-packed, multi-part puzzles that make exploration as exciting as the combat. I’ll be keeping my eyes on Dungeons of Dusk but I’m hoping it evolves into something more than just its combat loop.

    Dungeons of Dusk was played on PC (Steam Deck) using an early access demo code provided to gameblur by the publisher.

  • Don’t skip Sovereign Syndicate on console if you’re a fan of expressive writing and intricate worldbuilding.

    Don’t skip Sovereign Syndicate on console if you’re a fan of expressive writing and intricate worldbuilding.

    The first thing that comes to mind when thinking about Sovereign Syndicate is how excellent writing can carry mechanically and visually underwhelming games – so long as you have an audience willing to read. At first glance, Sovereign Syndicate looks to chase the Disco Elysium formula, turning your protagonists’ internal dialogue and resultant personalities into the equivalent of traditional RPG classes. However, the longer you play, the more you’ll realise their starting attributes and evolving personality add flavour to the journey rather than function as hard skill-checks.

    Sovereign Syndicate is still a role-playing game in the sense that you shape the decisions the protagonists make, unlock new response types as a result of their experiences, and influence their outlook on the world. The more effort you put into tackling the secondary content, the more dialogue options you give yourself down the line. However, the initial character class and stylish Tarot card system are just another form of dice roll modifiers, and you can always save-scum your way through any skill-check if you really wanted to.

    That flexible structure and a focus on lengthy dialogue sequences can make Sovereign Syndicate feel closer to a visual novel with light RPG elements, but that’s no bad thing for those that enjoy reading and using their imagination fill out details that the inconsistent visuals and artwork cannot provide. Set in a Victorian-era London, where steampunk technology and low-fantasy magic coexist, Sovereign Syndicate takes you on a lengthy journey that switches back and forth between three characters, with plenty of minor details and interactions to embellish the narrative.

    Atticus Daley is a minotaur trying to drink away his troubled orphan past, before a mysterious stranger with gun and a new nagging voice in his head set him on a quest to discover the fate of his mother. Clara Reed is a human courtesan tired of entertaining London’s elite and looking for a way to raise enough money to smuggle herself across the Atlantic. Teddy Redgrave is a dwarf and war veteran, who now spends time tweaking his automaton “Otto” and taking contracts to hunt down mythical beasts and common vermin plaguing London. It is an eclectic cast with different views on the world and characters around them, and each takes the lead on investigating secondary plot lines that run throughout the adventure.

    That structure ties into the verbose writing that, while not always consistent in delivery, is wonderfully intricate and expressive. Dialogue with key NPCs, internal monologues, and observations of the world around them are unique for each character. This allows the developers to flesh out every character and dole out heaps of worldbuilding; it provides the player much better insight into the motivations of each protagonist; and simply makes exploring the world incredibly satisfying – albeit only if you’re willing to read.

    In contrast, the gameplay mechanics feel perfunctory and drawn out as you traverse several areas of London repeatedly, talking to everyone you can in each chapter to ensure you don’t miss important interactions or clues that update quest entries. Tarot card draws for dialogue challenges and environmental interactions are just dice rolls. You have an inventory but there’s little reason to ever open it as key items are flagged in conversations or during interactions when needed. It can grow increasingly tiresome and left me wondering if Sovereign Syndicate would have had better pacing if it gone for map- and menu-driven exploration systems similar to visual novels or point-and-click adventure games.

    That said, Sovereign Syndicate still feels unique and there is little like it on consoles aside from the aforementioned Disco Elysium. It feels like a fantasy-steampunk adventure novel recreated in video game form, and it’ll be a treat for those who enjoy visual novels or those who pore over lore documents in games. You could accuse the writers of overcomplicating or embellishing elements, but I loved the detailed internal monologues, frequent exposition, rich flavour text, and the minor changes to my options as each character evolved. If a visual novel/RPG hybrid with great writing is your idea of a good time, don’t pass up on Sovereign Syndicate (and I hope there’s a Nintendo Switch port at some point).

    Sovereign Syndicate was played on Xbox Series S|X using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC and PS5.

  • Escape from Ever After is a slick and fun homage that stretches itself too thin.

    Escape from Ever After is a slick and fun homage that stretches itself too thin.

    My first thought when putting fingers to keyboard was just how much better Escape from Ever After could have been if it had spent time with a merciless editor. Coming from a two-person indie team, it has a strong start, solid writing, thoughtful gameplay, and is far from a bad game. The problem is the longer I played, the staler the gameplay loop felt, and the more I noticed the impact of limited assets.

    Escape from Ever After - The Three Little Pigs

    For all vocal fans of the Paper Mario games, there have been surprisingly few attempts to copy that formula – think paper-craft sprites in 3D environments, serving a streamlined RPG that focuses on platforming and puzzles during exploration, and mini-games during the turn-based combat. 2019’s Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling is the most successful example that came to mind but Escape from Ever After now offers another indie alternative if you’re looking for more of same or don’t have Nintendo hardware.

    Escape from Ever After benefits from a great promise befitting the aesthetics. Fairytale protagonist Flynn and his arch nemesis, the dragon Tinder, are captured by Ever After Inc – a “real-world” corporation that has figured out how to extend their operations into storybooks, reduce iconic characters to white-collar workers, and exploit their fantasy worlds for profit. Deciding that they could do more damage from the inside, Flynn and Tinder begrudgingly team up and accept an employment contract from the unhinged middle-manager Mr Moon.

    Escape from Ever After Wolfgang's Lute

    The setup provides an excuse to move between the office hub in Tinder’s castle – full of office worker archetypes doling out side-quests – and a half-dozen worlds based (very loosely) on classic fairytales and other literature. There are subverted classics like The Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood, but also unexpected choices like an amusing, age-appropriate take on Lovecraft’s The Shadow Over Innsmouth. Each world has its own problems, usually exacerbated by Ever After Inc.’s rampant capitalism, and each introduces a companion that’ll join Flynn and Tinder on their adventure. Like the Paper Mario games, it is closer in style to a JRPG, so the few dialogue choices you get don’t have any real impact on how the story plays out.

    The writing still managed to impress and tug on the heartstrings at times, despite no voice work and the player controlling the dialogue flow, but gameplay dominates the experience. It revolves around exploration, some light platforming and time-based challenges, and also some light puzzling that use your companion’s abilities: think hitting distant objects with Flynn’s buckler, setting things on fire with Tinder, or manipulating plant growth and wind using Wolfgang’s melodies. It makes exploration far more interesting than simply running between set-piece battles and, naturally, you can return to worlds with new companions to use their abilities to unlock new gear, trinkets, or discover ink bottles that upgrade attacks.

    Escape from Ever After Boss Fight

    The combat is fun as it’s a low-numbers game, in which most enemies have health points in the single digits, and new gear or skills feel significant rather than incremental. Gaining XP and levelling boosts the party’s max HP, MP, or trinket slots – items that offer interesting buffs and potential trade-offs. More important is which party member abilities you use to deal with enemies that are flying, shielded, armoured, or buffing one another. You need to time button presses for blocks and attacks; complete mini-games to maximise the impact of special abilities; and simply spamming the basic attack will get you nowhere.

    Returning to my opening statement, the biggest problem Escape from Ever After faces is the 20-ish hours it takes to roll the credits. Aside from multi-phase boss encounters, there are too few enemy variants; the charming visuals slowly give way to that “made-in-Unity” look; and even the brilliant soundtrack becomes grating once you’ve heard it enough times. As someone who would always take a shorter game with a satisfying conclusion that leaves me on a high, rather than a longer one that simply leaves me relieved to see the credits roll, I can’t help but wonder why so many developers don’t follow the less is more principle?

    Escape from Ever After was played on Nintendo Switch 2 using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, PS5, and Nintendo Switch 1.

  • Editorial: Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on Nintendo Switch 2 crams a massive CPRG onto tiny hardware to varying degrees of success.

    Editorial: Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on Nintendo Switch 2 crams a massive CPRG onto tiny hardware to varying degrees of success.

    As a fan of classic CRPGs who grew up playing Baldur’s Gate, Icewind Dale, and Neverwinter Nights, I can’t help but love Owlcat’s isometric CRPGs. Just how much I love them, however, depends on the amount of free time I have. Their prior CRPGs based in the Pathfinder universe – Kingmaker and Wrath of the Righteous – have their flaws, but their epic scope and ambition made them easy to forgive once I was hooked. Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader continues that time-devouring trend, albeit this time within a distinctly gothic, grimdark, sci-fi universe.

    For that reason, the prospect of a Nintendo Switch 2 version, which I could pick up and put down whenever I had the time, was incredibly tempting – despite having sunk 60 hours exploring the Koronus Expanse in the Xbox Series port already. Like all good CRPGs, there is scope for replayability by rolling a different character class, experiencing the impact of tackling missions in a different order, adventuring with a different group of companions, making different major decisions at the end of each act, and role-playing a more ruthless or evil character (not that I ever do).

    Having now sunk another two-dozen hours into Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2, the results are predictably hit-and-miss given the size of this game and some hardware limitations. Portability always requires sacrifice – especially when dealing with a small screen in a menu- and text-heavy game. On the upside, the outcome is mostly positive if affordable and optimised portable play is your goal. If, however, you intend to make use of the Switch 2’s hybrid nature and occasionally play it on a 4K TV, the results are less impressive.

    Starting with the good, Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2 is feature-complete with no gameplay compromises (and it’s cheap). It is every bit as massive and engaging as the PC version or the other current-gen console ports (and the DLC expansions are arriving soon). The platform has no shortage of lengthy Nintendo first-party adventures and third-party JRPGs, but this is a rare western-styled CRPG for fans of the genre (the other options being literal classics, like Beamdog’s and Aspyr’s remastered D&D IP: Baldur’s Gate, Icewind Dale, and Neverwinter Nights). Isometric exploration, tactical turn-based based battles, dialogue choices with abundant skills checks, more exposition than anyone needs, and major choices that alter the later acts – it’s all accounted for.

    It took a post-launch patch or two, but Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2 runs as well, if not better than the PC version on the Steam Deck and original ROG Ally (my only other points of handheld comparison). On the handheld screen, enabling TAA produces a slightly softer but less noisy image, while the framerate sticks to the 30fps target outside of a few rapidly panning cutscenes with alpha effects. Coupled with a UI and controller scheme developed and refined for the current-gen consoles, it feels more than responsive enough for general exploration and the turn-based combat. Even the load times are respectable, albeit a little longer than on the other consoles.

    The are, however, three issues of note – one subjective and two with gameplay implications. When docking the Nintendo Switch 2 and connecting to a 4K TV, you are getting a better experience than the Steam Deck or ROG Ally is capable of. However, the image is notably blurrier than when playing on even the budget Xbox Series S (especially when dynamic resolution scaling kicks in), and it appears to lack some post-processing effects that leave environments looking too bright and lacking depth. Of course, visual quality is subjective and the ability to easily suspend, resume, or continue your game away from the TV is a major perk.

    More problematic are the awkwardly overlapping menus, tooltip boxes, and tiny text when playing in handheld mode. Navigating exposition-heavy dialogue menus, cycling between environmental text descriptions, and comparing items in the inventory is a core part of any CRPG and incredibly frustrating on a small display. One potential solution is using a Joy-Con 2 as a mouse, but the implementation is an all or nothing approach. The gamepad UI is replaced by icons around the screen and almost every aspect of the game is controlled by the mouse, slowing down the pace by making actions like simple camera control frustrating.

    Ultimately, you’ll need to consider how plan to play Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2. If you play mostly in portable mode, it is an impressive version that looks and performs better than all but the most high-powered handheld PCs. The text size and limited screen space is an issue, but the rest of the port is solid and it looks good on a small screen. If, on the other hand, you alternate between portable and docked play (or if your Nintendo Switch 2 lives under the TV most of the time), Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader looks rough in comparison to other current-gen console ports, and the mouse controls need more refining. All that said, if the Nintendo Switch 2 is your only console, CRPG fans should jump on the opportunity regardless.

    Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader was reviewed on Nintendo Switch 2 using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, and PS5.