Catching Strays

I haven't backed a ton of crowd-funded games, but enough to have a surprisingly wide array of reactions to the completed product. For a few I've been very active during development, even trying out Early Access and giving feedback. Sometimes I jump on a game as soon as it's launched. Other times it hangs out in my Steam queue for a while before bubbling to the surface. And there are a few that I never do get around to playing. 

 

"Stray Gods" falls into the "bubble to the surface" category. I backed this game what feels like ages ago, in The Before Times. It came out last summer; I think that at the time I was deep into Elden Ring, then from there into Baldur's Gate 3, then back into Elden Ring again, and what with one thing and another it fell off my radar. But as I finally have some down-time I was able to pick it up. Fortunately it's one of my favorite things, a Not Too Long Game, and I was able to finish it over a course of several pleasant days of chill playing.

 

Stray Gods is the first game from Summerfall Studios. Despite being a brand-new (Australian!) operation, they're staffed with industry legends. The entire reason why I backed Stray Gods (which had some other title at the time that I can't currently recall) was due to the involvement of David Gaider, my all-time-favorite video-game writer. Gaider wrote huge portions of Baldur's Gate 2 (possibly still my favorite RPG of all time), and created the Dragon Age setting (possibly my favorite fantasy game setting of all time), and has consistently been insightful in his public postings and speeches. Gaider was a pioneer in video game romances, which are especially dear to my heart, and has been an outspoken champion for increased representation in games alongside other forms of media.

 

I remember seeing a talk a few years back where Gaider mused over how odd his career path has been. The stereotypical progression is that someone will work on a personal passion project to try and get noticed, then hopefully get to work for a small indie team to actually ship a title, then graduate to a major AAA studio to work on a big game that millions of people play. Gaider has spent years working in AAA games, and feels relief and delight at stepping "down" to a smaller, more personal studio.

 

Stray Gods has a great hook: a roleplaying musical. Inspired to some extent by the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode "Once More, With Feeling", this is a game where encounters are resolved through powerful and emotional musical verses rather than through combat, stealth or spellcasting.

MINI SPOILERS

In the game, you play as "Grace", a young woman who becomes a mythological Muse. As a Muse, she has the power to inspire people, to stir them to action or draw out truth from them. Nearly all of the characters in the game are from Greek mythology: mostly gods and goddesses, with a few other beings mixed in. It's set in the modern world, and feels a little like American Gods in the way that these ancient beings brush up against contemporary society.

 

I think it's helpful to come to this game understanding "roleplaying" as meaning "playing a role" and not so much as denoting traditional RPG elements. The actual gameplay is pretty light, even more so than something like Pentiment; if you imagine a visual novel you're most of the way there. You can shape Grace's character to a limited extent, in particular by giving her one of three personal strengths. Throughout the game, "Red" options denote ones that are forceful (brash, aggressive, in-your-face); "Green" options are empathetic ones (being friendly, making people like you); and "Blue" options are questioning ones (investigating, curiosity, digging deeper). Certain dialogue options will be blocked off based on what trait(s) you chose, but for the most part you can respond as you like, picking options that match your perception of Grace or that feel most appropriate to the situation.

 

The game is fully voice-acted with amazing voice actors. Dialogue plays out similarly to BioWare games like Mass Effect or Dragon Age: you listen to conversations, with occasional automatic speech from Grace, and eventually come to a dialogue wheel type of thing where you can select a question or response. I've only played through the game once, but it seems that at least some choices are highly reactive; asking questions seems to mostly just give more lore and flavor but probably doesn't change the story as much.

 

They main "gameplay" unfolds during songs, which are key set-pieces. Usually something dramatic is happening here: Grace is trying to avoid some harm or convince someone to do something for her or to discover something. Unlike regular dialogue, there's a timer that appears during a prompt, and you'll have a limited amount of time to make a selection. (What happens if you fail to make a choice? I don't know! I was too scared to let it happen!) Your choice here seems to feed into the music - "Red" aggressive responses will modulate to a more intense sound, while "Green" friendly responses will generally be more peaceful - as well as changing the dialogue and what happens next. That said, I'm pretty sure that story-wise the last choice you make in a song decides what will happen next in the story.

 

A little bit of gameplay unfolds when navigating around a city map - this actually reminded me a lot of the recent Vampire: The Masquerade visual novels from Draw Distance. And there are a few scenes where you pick from various items or people in a room to interact with. In both cases, you usually end up needing to exhaust every option, or at least do a few until a new choice to proceed opens up.

 

I haven't read anything about the game, and will probably research at least a little after publishing this post, but I get the strong impression that it's impossible to "lose" at Stray Gods. Your choices have consequences and things can turn out in different ways, so you may end up more or less satisfied with how things play out, but I don't think you'd ever, like, run out of HP and view a "Game Over" screen.

 

There are technically "romance options" in the game, but at least in my playthrough, it's a bit lower-key than what you would expect in a 100+-hour RPG. Romance choices seem to mostly be about expressing how your character feels about someone else, not necessarily leading to reciprocation. More on this below in mega-spoilerville.

 

Heading into a bit more detail (but still no major spoilers yet):

As mentioned above, most of the characters here are from Greek mythology. I've recently been thinking about the phenomenal game Hades, and it was interesting to see so many of the same classic characters appearing in both games. In most cases, their presentation in Stray Gods is significantly different, both from their Hades depiction and their traditional portrayals (with the necessary caveat that these characters have had a lot of different portrayals over the millennia, or even among the ancient Greeks). I'd say that, in general, Hades tended to portray exaggerated versions of the pantheon's stereotypes, while Stray Gods tends to subvert those stereotypes. (Or, maybe it's more accurate to say that Hades exaggerates the Olympians and subverts / reinvents the Chthonic gods.) Some specific characters like Persephone are almost polar opposites, others like Hermes go in very different directions.

 

One minor complaint: Some of the songs have awkward scansion, with what feel like too many or too few syllables in a line, forcing the singer to speed up or draw out different parts. The singers themselves are fantastic and handle this well, and maybe it would seem better without the (default) subtitles. I noticed this more often in the earlier songs. I may have gotten used to it, or maybe it was intentional and shows how Grace and the people around her are getting better at singing and songcrafting as her powers grow?

MEGA SPOILERS

I'm honestly not sure if I'll replay this, but I am curious just how much changes based on your decisions. It feels like there are some major differences based on early decisions you have on favoring one character over another: in particular, there's one conflict between Freddie and Pen, and another between Persephone and Apollo. I went with Freddie and Persephone and spent a lot more time with both of them than the other two, so I suspect that if I went the other way, Pan would be following me around on stakeouts and Apollo/Oracle would be giving me directions.

 

It looks like those four (Freddie, Pan, Persephone and Apollo) are the romanceable options, at least based on who has heart options pop up for them. I always chose the heart for Freddie and didn't pick it for any of the others, though if I had it to do over again I'd be curious how Persephone responds, now that I know more about her history with Calliope and seen how she acts away from Apollo. Something Terrible happened to Freddie late in my game, and I'm super-curious if that's a canon outcome, or if it was because I had indicated that she was the most important person to me. (What kind of a monster would design a game like that?!?!)

 

 

The primary plot is pretty interesting, with a good pace of discoveries and a few twists, but I found myself even more interested in the background plot, basically everything that has happened between Ancient Greece times and the present. One item is a big time gap, a period of about a thousand years after Zeus summoned the gods for a war; we know that the gods existed during this time and were doing stuff, but nobody remembers what happened during that time. I'm a little curious whether this points to a Neil Gaiman / Terry Pratchett-esque system where deities' existence and power is contingent upon the belief of their followers, and so during the Dark Ages when the ancient texts were "lost", the gods fell into darkness as well; and after being rediscovered in the Renaissance, they became relevant once again, but diminished due to their smaller presence in the popular imagination.

 

Another major plot point concerns the physical relocation of the gods from the Old World to the New World. The game is vague about exactly where it's set, but based on some context cues it seems to be America, and I imagine more specifically Manhattan; but from the gods' perspective any country other than Greece would probably qualify as a New World. Anyways, while the dialogue avoids explicitly stating some of these details, it sounds to me like what happened was: Ares felt annoyed at missing out on all the warfare of World War 1, so he revealed himself to the Axis and supported them in militarizing and rushing towards World War 2. With the gods revealed, they became vulnerable; in particular, Aphrodite was captured by the Axis. Her (unappreciated) husband Hephaestus then approaches the Allies and offers to help them construct the nuclear bomb; in return, the Allies help free Aphrodite and grant all of the "Idols" safe passage to the New World. Anyways, with all of these intriguing backstories I feel like Summerfall is in a pretty good place to set up a potential sequel or prequel to explore this world and these times in more depth.

 

Oh yeah, quick sidebar (which could have been in Mini Spoilers...) - even within the game, they aren't super clear on why the present-day mythological beings are known as "Idols". To me it seems like a corruption of "Eidolon", which is the enduring aspect of a being that passes from host to host when the previous one dies. Of course, "Idols" in the 21st century tend to conjure images of big, showy singers, which is very appropriate for the game. 

 

Anyways, since the relocation the Idols have been "safe" but have not been thriving at all. They've been shocked to discover that they can now be slain. Their powers are diminishing, and so on. This seems to be the animating force behind Athena, who takes desperate measures to try and reverse the decline.

 

I really really really really liked how Athena was the antagonist of this game but not a full-on villain: there are reasons why she acts the way that she does, and you can eventually show her the error of her ways and redeem her, without needing to physically destroy her (though I did also appreciate that there is an option to punch her in the face!). I love this style of story, in all mediums, and want to see more alternatives to "the game ends when you murder the bad guy."

There were a few minor plot things that I was left curious about at the end; I strongly suspect that these aren't "plot holes" so much as things that could have been explained if I had ventured down different conversation paths than I took. First, I'm not sure why Hecate was wrong about the future; multiple times she was surprised by things that happened when she shouldn't have been. Maybe Athena used her access to the Reliquary to rewrite some of her books? Possible, but also odd; I don't know why Athena would add a detail like Grace becoming Calliope seven months in the future instead of, say, writing that Grace murdered Calliope and will be put to death in a day. There are some references to Fates, so maybe Athena was able to change the future and Heccate's books just haven't been updated? That seems implausible, but I'm not very clear on the rules of this world. Or maybe Grace herself has some ability to change her own fate? That feels a bit more likely to me, in particular in the context of us playing this video game.

 

I'm also not sure how Athena got the ability to summon the Furies. I think that classically, the Furies only got involved for kin-murder, which doesn't seem to be the case here; again, the game doesn't need to adhere to classical tradition. I think someone makes a comment about how Zeus would have been able to summon the Furies, and I wonder if Athena was able to take some of these types of powers (without the other Idols knowing) in Zeus's absence. I get the strong feeling that there's an answer to this somewhere in the trial scene song.

 

Random note: Early on I had Athena pegged as the most likely killer, and was mildly pleased to be right. I definitely didn't have the whole plot figured out, but given who was in the cast and who seemed able to be eliminated and generally intuiting how these things go served me well.

Other random reactions:

My favorite song was Aphrodite's.

My favorite character was Freddie.

 

My favorite Idol was Asterion.

 

My favorite location was Underworld.

 

My favorite voice actor/actress was Grace.

END SPOILERS

All in all, Stray Gods was a delight. It's a perfect palette cleanser between some huge chunky RPGs I have played and will play, but it's very carefully crafted and lovingly made. The quality of the performances and attention to detail are much higher than you would expect from a game at this price point. It's also pretty nice to have an "RPG" that's ALL story, which is the part that I usually like best anyways.

Pentiment

In an odd bit of synchronicity, my reading of Menewood, set during the dawn of the Middle Ages, coincided with my playthrough of Pentiment, set during the dusk of the Middle Ages. Both are set in a world of towns and monasteries, show worlds where religious practice infuses every aspect of life, and where secular and sacred authorities exist in an occasionally uneasy symbiosis.

 

Pentiment is a very unusual game. It was created by Obsidian, the studio behind some of the best RPGs ever (KOTOR 2, NWN 2, Fallout: New Vegas, South Park: The Stick of Truth, and Pillars of Eternity). It plays much more like an adventure game than an RPG, although there are some vaguely RPG-ish elements. The most striking aspect of Pentiment is its visual presentation, which perfectly aligns the setting, story, theme and gameplay. The main character, Andreas Maler, illuminates manuscripts. The art style looks very flat, as in a medieval painting, before the Renaissance reintroduced perspective.

 

At any point during the game/story, you can pause and zoom out from the action, at which point you see the current scene as a panel in the book telling your story. This is supported by marginalia: unfamiliar terms may be defined, but more often there's some fanciful illustrations of imaginary beasts, like something out of the Voynich Manuscript.

 

My favorite aspect is probably the dialogue. There's no voice acting here, all the text appears on-screen in speech bubbles. Each character "speaks" with their own distinct hand. Peasants have relatively rough scripts, while townspeople have more refined cursive. The monks have particularly ornate and beautiful flowing calligraphy, and University-educated men likewise "speak" in strong, detailed lettering. A particularly nice, subtle touch is that the font color grows gradually lighter, until the speaker refills their "ink" and after a brief pause resumes "speaking" with strong black lines again. A major exception is the printer in the town, who "speaks" by laying down lead-set block type and then "printing" it.

 

Pentiment is the shortest Obsidian game I've played, but it's longer than I thought it would be, with a story that grows and takes some fun turns along the way.

 

 

MINI SPOILERS

Your player character, Andreas Maler, is a bit of an outsider who straddles different worlds. At the start of the game he's employed by Kiersau Abbey, but is not himself a monk: he's a journeyman artisan helping brothers in the Scriptorium with illuminating custom manuscripts. He rents a room from a peasant family, is friends with the villagers and a peer with the monks, traveling between those worlds. Born in Nuremberg, he doesn't have family connections in the Bavarian Alps; this outsider status gives lots of opportunities to ask questions.

 

I mentioned before that there are some light RPG-ish elements to the gameplay. During dialogue, you get a few chances to decide on the background and abilities of your Andreas. Your options include things like knowledge of nature, with medicine, with classical history, with theology, and so on. You could also decide whether your apprenticeship took place in Venice, Genoa, Milan or some other city. In all cases, picking a particular background or skill will unlock unique dialogue options.

 

There are also a handful of persuasion checks in the game, where you try to convince someone to do something. The outcome is usually based on previous things you have told them, but sometimes it can be influenced by your actions or skills. I'm honestly still not sure exactly how the mechanics of this work, but it seems like each check needs a certain number of "positive" points in order to pass (as opposed to a die roll or something).

 

Most of the gameplay consists of walking around and talking to people. There are a few puzzles to solve and a few fun minigames (none of which are repeated). It definitely seems like some things are missable, so you're well served by walking off the beaten path and talking to everyone, even if it doesn't show up as an objective. (On the other hand, this is all ultimately just a story, so missing something doesn't mean you'll "lose" the game, just that future events may play out differently.)

 

The core plot of the game revolves around a murder mystery. A prominent man is murdered and a monk who you know to be innocent is accused of the crime. As an outsider, you are trusted to conduct your own investigation. This primarily involves questioning potential suspects, but also searching for clues and looking for other evidence.

 

The overall setting and murder-mystery angle made me think of The Name of the Rose, the excellent novel from Umberto Eco. Like that novel, this game is driven by the murder, but the murder itself is also deeply connected with theological matters.

MEGA SPOILERS

There is very limited time in the game to do your investigations and make an accusation. I was mostly focused on the weird stuff in the monastery, particularly the occult objects, and didn't spend much time at all with the villager suspects; I don't think I ever even spoke with Lucky and didn't follow up on anything with Martin. During the trial I accused Ferenc. I had the most evidence to implicate him, and he'd been "difficult and evasive" during questioning. The other plausible character to accuse was Sister Matilda; I felt very bad for what had happened to her, though, and listened to the pleas of others to keep her name from the investigation. (I couldn't really picture her murdering the Baron, although I did toy with the idea that one of the other sisters might have done it on her behalf.)

During the trial I ultimately just shared the information on Ferenc and didn't even mention any of the other suspects, nor the notes I had found. My motivation was to avoid dragging any innocent people into the system. During the execution, I had very strong doubts about my choice!! It's an absolutely brutal, gut-wrenching scene, with Ferenc screaming and crying while surrounded by variously jeering and horrified onlookers. I felt filled with regret.

 

I was under the impression that Pentiment was a very short game, so I was kind of expecting it to end after the execution, perhaps to encourage a replay and learn more about the mystery. Instead, there's a seven-year time-skip. Andreas is now a master artisan who has returned to Nuremberg, gotten married, and become a respected and successful person. He has returned to Kiersau to pay his respects to Brother Piero, the monk was was falsely accused of the Baron's murder. In the intervening time Andreas has traveled and expanded his skills, so you essentially "level up" by selecting some new background options.

 

Before long, another murder occurs, this time of a local agitator. In the intervening years, Martin Luther's reform movement has turned into a schism, and there's great fear about cracks within the Catholic church. Father Gernot's previously harsh taxes have turned draconian, causing widespread misery among the townsfolk. As before, there are plenty of likely suspects who may have wanted to commit the murder. And there is even less time than before to investigate: instead of a few days, you have a single day to identify the murderer before the mob of furious peasants lynch the abbot.

 

There's even less convincing evidence this time around. In my game I focused on Brother Guy. You find damning proof that he has been embezzling money from the abbey. In my mind, this made him singularly responsible for the misery infecting Tassing: Gernot has been under the impression that Kiersau's finances are dire, which motivates him to impose his brutal taxes; if it wasn't for Guy's theft, perhaps the village and country wouldn't suffer so much. That said, I was even less sure about Guy than I was about Ferenc. While the motivation is clear, I never found any evidence placing him at the scene of the crime.

 

Things feel much further out of control in the second act than the first. The peasants are at the end of their rope, with a few voices pleading restraint but many more ready for drastic action. A few villagers hold especially important positions. The miller is by far the wealthiest member of the town and for decades has exploited his monopoly to impoverish the farmers. In contrast, the baker is a kindly Christian man who provides bread to those in need at a fair price. The baker is widely respected and, while supporting Tassing's grievances, consistently pleads for non-violence. During a tense confrontation, the miller accidentally shoots and kills the baker; this elevates the violence even more, spiraling into the burning of the miller and, eventually, the monastery itself. Andreas perishes in the flames while trying to save books from the scriptorium.

 

Now comes another time-jump, this time of 20 years, and this time a character jump as well: you now play as Magdalene Druckeryn, the printer's daughter, who was just a baby in the previous section and now is a young woman. Somewhat like Andreas you can select your skills and background; in my game she was persuasive and had a great head for finance and figures. One especially cool thing is that she gets a skill based on a previous decision made: what book Andreas bought her as a gift during the previous act. In my game, he got her a novel of chivalrous romance, and as a result she unlocked dialogue choices relating to tales of nobility.

 

The mechanics of gameplay with Magdalene are the same as with Andreas, but everything about this last act of the game feels very different from the first two. While you can choose between different dialogue responses, Magdalene tends to be funnier than Andreas, with a sharp, dry wit and more options for non-verbal responses. While time felt extremely compressed in the first and (especially) second acts, it's positively langrous in the third, with days, weeks or even months passing between scenes, unlike earlier where every hour meant the difference between life and death. And this time around you aren't trying to solve a murder. There's still Weird Things happening, and the backdrop of the previous murders loom over the town, but much less of a frantic race to pin a suspect.

 

Over the course of the first two acts, you gradually come to realize that, while some individual technically committed the murder, they were coaxed into doing so by some mysterious entity, whom Andreas dubs "The Thread-Puller". The Thread-Puller previously wrote notes in purple ink with a very ornate hand, secretly delivering them to people with a motive to kill the victim and providing details on when and where they'll have the opportunity to do so. Now, in the third act, the same types of notes start to appear again. Magdalene's father Claus is assaulted, surviving but badly injured, and Magdalene herself eventually receives notes as well.

 

The game ends with a bunch of surprising but well-earned revelations. (I know we're in Mega Spoilers here, but still, if you think you'll ever play this game you should skip ahead!). First is the discovery that Andreas Maler is still alive: he lost consciousness during the fire but did not die, and has been living a marginal existence on the outskirts of town for the last two decades as he deals with the grief of the death of his apprentice. Magdalene thinks that Andreas has been stalking and threatening her, but he's actually been watching over her and Claus, protecting them from harm.

 

While researching the history of Tassing for a mural she's drawing, Magdalene learns that Tassing was built over older Roman ruins. In particular, there used to be a temple to Mithras known as the Mithraeum which was apparently lost or destroyed in a floor. Andreas and Magdalene decide to go looking for it, as this seems to be where the Thread Puller moves between locations and retreats when threatened. Andreas has some kind of hallucination here, processing all his thoughts about his abandoned wife, dead son and dead apprentice. Andreas and Magdalene find the Mithraeum, and inside it Sister Amelie, the anchoress. She's been a presence throughout the game, seemingly walled up inside of the church, suffering from hallucinations/revelations that have occurred shortly before each death. As she "speaks", we realize that she has the extremely elegant hand that wrote the Thread Puller's notes.

 

But much like the murderers themselves, Amelie herself isn't really responsible: her hand wrote the notes and delivered them, but she didn't come up with the words or have any intention to cause harm. The thread puller behind the thread puller is none other than Father Thomas, the eminently likeable and mild-mannered local priest. Amusingly, I'd just been thinking about how much I liked Thomas: he's definitely orthodox in his religious beliefs, as one would expect, but always came across as kindly, thoughtful and compassionate. I think this is reinforced through his art style and presentation: he's almost always smiling, is slightly pudgy, and walks with an adorable rocking motion, all of which subtly signifies him as harmless.

 

Thomas lays out the reason behind the murders, which Andreas and Magdalene have partly put together. The village of Tassing is literally built on a lie. The original Roman settlement was abandoned, leaving behind statues, buildings and other artifacts. Later, when Christian refugees found and re-settled it, they identified those artifacts as being of Christian origin: statues of saints, a labyrinth of Mary. This drives Tassing's identity, Kiersau's mission, and even the local economy, as pilgrims journey to see those holy relics. But they aren't holy relics of the Church, they're actually pagan symbols of Rome.

 

This all started several years before the game when Kiersau's previous abbot found a book, Historia Tassia, that laid out the history. Thomas poisoned the abbot, making it seem like he died of natural causes. At the start of the game, the Baron brings another copy of the same book, and Thomas arranges for the Baron's murder to keep the book from view. (This doesn't go as planned, as Martin stole the book anyways; but the book remains hidden for many years without re-entering circulation.) Finally, Otto discovers the missing head of "Saint Moritz"; what the illiterate Otto doesn't realize (but Thomas does) is that the head is emblazoned with the words "MARS PATER", proving that the statue is actually of the Roman god. Finally, Claus and Magdalene's investigations into the town's history for the mural threaten another avenue of exposure; Thomas never makes an actual attempt on their lives, but tries to scare them off.

 

Everything gets wrapped up somewhat satisfyingly. Thomas brings down the ceiling of the submerged Mithraeum, but Andreas and Magdalene manage to rescue Amelie and escape. You can choose whether to share the truth with all the hurt it may cause or keep it concealed. The game ends with Magdalene leaving Tassing to start a new phase of her life in Prague, while Andreas reenters society as a welcome member of the Tassing community, in touch with his art once again.

 

Once everything clicks together at the end, I felt almost overwhelmed by just how perfect the story of Pentiment is. There are like four or five different layers of meaning that all resonate with and reinforce one another; they're all present throughout the whole game, but (at least for me) don't really come into focus until the conclusion. Going back to the title, "Pentiment" is the re-emergence of an element of a painting that was painted over by an artist; either age or abrasion can remove the newer image and reveal what was underneath it the whole time.

 

That's definitely what has happened in Tassing, where multiple civilizations have succeeded one another, each literally building on top of the previous one. Pre-Roman pagan culture was succeeded by Roman culture, then the early Christian refugees from Switzerland, who were gradually assimilated by nearby Bavarians. Farmers in the fields find bits and pieces of ancient Roman pottery and tools, long buried and gradually brought up to the surface again.

 

As with the physical objects, so with the legends and culture. From the first act of the game you've noted the strong parallels between the stories of Saint Moritz and Saint Satia, and older pagan stories that are still remembered in the town. It's now clear that those old stories had some names changed and some details updated, dressed up in Christian clothing but still the same. (Which was extra-cool for me to see, since that's basically what Hild is doing at the end of Menewood, so I was kind of witnessing both the start of that syncretic practice and its denouement a thousand years later.)

 

That same pattern of re-emergence repeatedly echoes on an individual, personal level as well. The evidence of the crimes are hidden, but come back again. People experience traumas in their childhood, suppress it for years, then see it erupt in adulthood. Actions you took in the early stages of the game are re-presented at the end: "choice and consequences", but with an incredibly strong tie-in to the game's overall theme.

 

Finally, I was really struck by all of the family trees shown at the very end of the game. In my playthrough, I was rather annoyed by Otz, so I didn't have Magdalene pursue any relationship with him. She remains independent at the end, which is kind of cool; but also comes to seem rather lonely as you see the flowering of other families. There's a strong sense of connection, growth, history, and support through familial ties. Also some sad things to see as well: it looks like the Roma and Artemis are burned at the stake, presumably for heresy, which may have been at least partly due to my encouragement of their unorthodox beliefs.

 

A few final random thoughts: overall I actually really enjoyed how religious faith was presented in this game. As seems appropriate for the setting and the era, religious references fill peoples' speech, with giving thanks to God, offering prayers, seeking and sharing encouragement and comfort. It isn't a separate activity or belief but something deeply ingrained in every aspect of life. It's portrayed with a good deal of variety and nuance as well, with cerebral debates at Kiersau Abbey alongside simple and homely religious practice in Tassing. I really enjoyed the presence of an Ethiopian Copt, which was accompanied by some fantastic (and, I believe, accurate) art. While Thomas is ultimately shown to be bad, I still really enjoyed seeing his scenes of confession; this put me in mind of Catholic novels I've read, like Willa Cather or Walter Miller, which respectfully portray the positive aspects of this practice: surrendering individual suffering before a greater power, accepting grace and the serenity that can come with absolution.

 

One very cool aspect of the long timespan of this game is getting to see the long-term growth of characters. One that particularly struck me was Martin. In the first act, I was strongly tempted to accuse him of the murder, mostly just because he's such an unpleasant and irresponsible person. The only reason I didn't was because I didn't have nearly as much evidence on him as I did for Ferenc. Then, in Act 2, you see how he's grown into such a supportive and helpful person, which made me very glad that I didn't murderize him! (Of course, this is complicated by the fact that Martin isn't actually Martin. I'm not sure if I'll replay this game, but if I do, I'll be very curious to see how that particular story changes.)

My favorite evolution is probably the Doctor. In the first act he is such an unlikeable, arrogant, condescending jerk, who clearly hates being in Tassing and hates everyone there. By the end of the game, you can still see traces of his pride and vanity, but he's also made it clear through his deeds that, under his attitude, he's come to deeply love this village and everyone in it, and feels good about devoting his life to their health.

And, visually, it's just fun to see little kids grow up into adults, and see the adults get a little grayer and a little pudgier. I can relate!

END SPOILERS

Pentiment has been one of the most interesting and enjoyable games I've played this year. It's great to see Obsidian stretching their creative muscles and doing something different; I'd love to see, say, BioWare doing a similar spin on their moribund Dragon Age franchise. The gameplay was pretty simple but very effective, and the story and setting tickled all sorts of interests for me: history, religion, art, politics, guilt, atonement, community, justice, economics, power, love, family. This felt like reading a book, in the best sense of that phrase, and I think it will linger with me in the same way a finely plotted and layered novel will for a long time to come.