This review contains spoilers
Dave Gilbert and all those hanging out under the Wadjet Eye umbrella have been banging out some of the greatest adventure games of the 21st century since 2006’s The Shivah, every bit as essential a game to the canon of the genre as a Monkey Island or Broken Sword or Space/King’s Quest. The Blackwell series in particular represented (mostly) a high for them that I considered impossible to top, especially after Epiphany’s perfect closing chapter.
And yet here we are, with Unavowed. A new high for Wadjet Eye, and an exemplary specimen of what the genre can be.
A solidly written story of mysteries, magic, and many deaths is what you get for playing, but the playing itself is the true joy, using a team-building mechanic where you can take any two of an eventual four (well, five) partners with you to investigate the hellish machinations an apparent demon possession caused your player character to inflict upon New York, and each of these partners has their own moral values, distinct opinions on choices you make, and abilities for puzzle-solving, delivering something akin to Dungeons & Dragons’ moral alignments, albeit with them managing to rationalise or cope with you doing something completely opposed to your opinions.
Not that you’ll often find that being the case. By choosing certain teams, it influences you the player as a role-player yourself (and your character is even something of a choice too, as you combine gender and job for some variation, and name yourself, kinda). It makes you want to not just choose what your team-mates are suggesting to please them, but also to choose something based on their input, as the writing is so well done as to make them feel like fully-realised human beings (or half-djinn in one case) whose opinions you value.
There was one moment within the game where I had, without much thought, chosen Mandana (aforementioned half-djinn with a sword) and Vicki (ex-cop, has gun). This is a team more accepting of the ‘easy’ solution to problems, and one where I would feel less guilty for doing just that. We’d survived an outburst of unfettered creativity (long story), and had to deal with the one who inflicted this upon us. In other, similar situations, Eli (un-aging fire mage) or Logan (bestower with a child ghost attached) would pull me down to earth. But no, this was a team that could kill, and I the player wouldn’t feel guilty. Instant choice. Vicki. Bang. It felt like a natural outcome of the team chosen, regardless of the possibilities available, and that’s some storytelling magic. It’s one thing to give a player choice. It’s another to make one of those choices feel incredibly natural under the circumstances you’ve made for yourself.
And that’s the magic of Unavowed. It creates these moments with you, and that now feels like the baseline adventure games should aspire to.
And yet here we are, with Unavowed. A new high for Wadjet Eye, and an exemplary specimen of what the genre can be.
A solidly written story of mysteries, magic, and many deaths is what you get for playing, but the playing itself is the true joy, using a team-building mechanic where you can take any two of an eventual four (well, five) partners with you to investigate the hellish machinations an apparent demon possession caused your player character to inflict upon New York, and each of these partners has their own moral values, distinct opinions on choices you make, and abilities for puzzle-solving, delivering something akin to Dungeons & Dragons’ moral alignments, albeit with them managing to rationalise or cope with you doing something completely opposed to your opinions.
Not that you’ll often find that being the case. By choosing certain teams, it influences you the player as a role-player yourself (and your character is even something of a choice too, as you combine gender and job for some variation, and name yourself, kinda). It makes you want to not just choose what your team-mates are suggesting to please them, but also to choose something based on their input, as the writing is so well done as to make them feel like fully-realised human beings (or half-djinn in one case) whose opinions you value.
There was one moment within the game where I had, without much thought, chosen Mandana (aforementioned half-djinn with a sword) and Vicki (ex-cop, has gun). This is a team more accepting of the ‘easy’ solution to problems, and one where I would feel less guilty for doing just that. We’d survived an outburst of unfettered creativity (long story), and had to deal with the one who inflicted this upon us. In other, similar situations, Eli (un-aging fire mage) or Logan (bestower with a child ghost attached) would pull me down to earth. But no, this was a team that could kill, and I the player wouldn’t feel guilty. Instant choice. Vicki. Bang. It felt like a natural outcome of the team chosen, regardless of the possibilities available, and that’s some storytelling magic. It’s one thing to give a player choice. It’s another to make one of those choices feel incredibly natural under the circumstances you’ve made for yourself.
And that’s the magic of Unavowed. It creates these moments with you, and that now feels like the baseline adventure games should aspire to.