When I first played The outer worlds in 2019, I was really disappointed. As a huge Fallout: New Vegas fan, I was excited for a new game in the same mold, but when I finally got it, its retro style seemed old and tired. It felt like a shadow of what had come before, not a celebration: a smaller, less compelling world, and a reminder that the basic formula had perhaps not aged as well as I had hoped.
But a lot of that feeling actually had more to do with timing. The Outer Worlds was released just 10 days after Disco Elysium. It was one of the newest and most exciting RPGs ever made, itself clearly inspired by the glory days of Obsidian but finding brilliant and strange new ways to revitalize old school concepts. With all of this still buzzing around in my brain, I couldn't help but think of The Outer Worlds as a rusty old relic back in the day (and I was certainly not the only one).
As the release of Avowed approached, I was worried that the same thing would happen again. It felt like a Skyrim throwback on a smaller scale (despite Obsidian's advice). fear of comparison) with some valuable new ideas. Now that I've played about four hours of a preliminary version of the gameI can say that… well, it’s sort of true. But this time around, rather than an awkward throwback, it feels like an enjoyable return to the classic RPG adventure.
Like I said, timing is everything. 2024 didn't have Disco Elysium, and while last year's Baldur's Gate 3 certainly continues to cast a shadow, the RPG that weighs on me the most when I first boot up Avowed is Dragon Age: The Veilkeeper.
BioWare's latest looks like the epitome of a certain type of very modern RPG design. It's elegant, flashy and spectacular. It's packed with quality-of-life features to make your adventure as smooth as possible. And it's as dull as dishwater. A deep disinterest in his own writing undermines his world of conflict and moral nuance, and his carefully compartmentalized encounters suppress any sense of discovery or emergent play.
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Avowed is a very different beast. On the one hand, as I arrive in the mysterious Living Lands, you could play a drinking game with RPG tropes on display: I'm shipwrecked with only the equipment on my back and a clue that I'm the Elected, tasked with curing the land of a magical plague, and thrust into the middle of a tense standoff between the free but chaotic inhabitants and an orderly but authoritarian empire. But on the other hand, twenty minutes after starting, I already have a good and clear understanding of a complex political situation with no easy answers, got acquainted with several key characters, made an interesting moral choice, I've made some fun discoveries and I want to see more of the world. I am In, and that's more than I can say for 50 hours with The Veilguard.
The familiar Bethesda-inspired first-person perspective evokes memories of another recent big-budget RPG: Starfield. This game offered a whole galaxy to explore, but all of it was lifeless and uninteresting. This was largely due to the sluggishness of its setting – a bland, “grounded” future where all the interesting conflicts were resolved 100 years before you arrived. As I passed through lifeless moons, I remember thinking then: “I wish I was in a fun little fantasy world with things actually happening there.” Well, there you have it: Obsidian has one for you.
If Starfield felt cold and sterile, playing Avowed is like putting on a nice old sweater. Is it fashionable? No. Are there any moth holes in it? Of course. But as the nights get cooler, it feels warm and comforting and smells of happy memories.
After the short tutorial section of the game, I let myself loose on a small stretch of coastline, able to just wander around and see what I find. Even with, I suppose, many side quests being closed to me (if I try to enter the nearby town where most of the important NPCs probably live, the preview simply ends), there are life and humanity in every little detail.
A clumsy arms salesman blurts out that he is separated from his wife. When I talk to her (she sells potions), she implies that they had a fight when he lost something important. When I later find an amulet with their names inscribed on it, there is no great fanfare or reward for returning it to them – just a gentle suggestion that reconciliation might now be possible.
As I explore monster camps, ruins, and caves, I discover a similar narrative everywhere. A deep hole covered in webbing leads to a giant spider boss's lair if it can be burned. A mutilated body in a bear's den bears a note ordering a new initiate to retrieve a “bear egg” as part of a cruel hazing ritual. Two soldiers guarding an elevator discover to their amazement that I picked a lock and climbed it from the other end.
In the dialogue, my options are clever, funny and give me real choice in what I want to say and do. I take more pleasure in telling these guards that they “can't deny me access to an elevator I've already used” than in any kind/sarcastic/mean response from The Veilguard or in the empty choices of Starfield, and even in the encounters I stumble upon. in the world, give me real freedom to act on how they unfold.
I decide to violently punish a grave robber's ongoing crime, and my Power attribute is strong enough to intimidate one of his buddies into abandoning it. I free a smuggler from her cell despite my companion's reluctance: by exploring the building, I have already discovered proof that she is not a villain. In a conversation about a major story NPC, I am able to decide my story with him: were we fellow soldiers, mentor and mentee, or even lovers?
Meanwhile, Kai, my new party member – a sort of swaggering fishman – discreetly fills me in on the local situation from his own cynical and complaining point of view. A hard land breeds hard people, he believes, but he is wary of the impact the new empire will have on the lawless local culture. He's joking, but his sarcasm hints at the uncertainty and sadness beneath the surface. We don't have many real conversations in four hours, and it's not like he's my new favorite RPG companion, but I already have a strong sense of who he is and what he stands for – and choices I could make. we could fight.
None of this is groundbreaking – and in particular, there's nothing here that would call into question the absurd level of detail, player freedom, or scale of Baldur's Gate 3. But as a result of some of the most disappointing major RPG releases in years, there's something very enjoyable about a fantasy adventure that's simply well-crafted and compelling. Obsidian's veteran developers could at this point be writing a politically volatile sandbox environment in their sleep, and it shows. I don't think there are a lot of grand ambitions at Avowed, but what there is is a clear and simple love for RPG writing and design, and I find that matters much more than I expected.
I fear some want Avowed to be much more than it is, even though the game's press tour has been more expectation management than hype. This doesn't look particularly good exciting game, and certainly not expensive either. But timing really is everything, and I think this could come at just the right time to be a soothing balm for RPG fans who feel burned by the bigger studios. Is it overwhelming with faint praise? Yeah, probably, but that won't stop me from coming back to explore all the caves and quests on this island when the game finally releases in February.
